Category: Me Myself&I

I made that creature at Indiecade. It’s already the end of the month. Things move fast when you bust your ass.

Basically, for the first time of my life I work with black folks. Bruh. It’s fucking weird how it doesn’t change anything and yet does change everything. I don’t make much but that “perk” is like some chill water on a hot day. Damn it feels good.

I keep thinking about a friend in France who was telling a story about how on his trip to India at some point, he was the only white dude around for like, 2 hours and how he felt stressed out.

Of course I giggled in front of him and of course I didn’t have to explain nothing. All my white friends around knew what I meant and giggled too. It reminded me that if I felt stressed out too sometimes being in an overwhelmingly different environment, it was OK. And also, I was pretty good at it.

I never feel the pressure while doing it, I never stress out about being the black dude in the house I embrace the challenge. It’s always an after thought when I review my performance and then I’m like “shit, that explains part of why I was tense as hell!”. Because there are so many ways to be judged and not get a second chance. Black folks rarely, very rarely get a second chance. So I try to get things right  immediately which tends to make me try too hard too. Balance, why are you so hard?

It’s a pain when your ctrl keys are acting up. One day I have to type them five times to get something done, the next day they work perfectly fine. For two hours. Then they don’t work at all, then come back. I’ve been trying to fix them but for now, no luck and less everything.

Two roommates out, two in. Transformed my desk to a modern, minimalist standup desk. A little wobbly for now but I feel great using it. My TV gig is going on. Spent the weekend with my favorite dog. Dogs unconditional love is something very profound and we take that for granted. I already miss him, his morning excitement and all. Next time, buddy. Next time, we’ll go out.

Last week. 40 kms on my green saddle, a little sunburn on my forehead and tons of smiles.

October for the past five years always has been rough as hell. But as temperature falls a little bit while the breeze gets colder, it’s still summer. It’s still so sunny and I remember that first experience and how I loved it. Damn, son.

Summer 94, twenty years ago. Little sister, my black ass, grandpa’s hand. Mom behind the camera.

What’s weird with this picture is that it’s a pretty accurate description of my life this year.

If you’re a dude in that decade between 10 and 20, chances are you’re spending most of your time with your peers, judging and talking shit about women. We’re here sitting with our beers, telling our friends that we hate that girl or would fuck this one etc. It’s pretty limited. I couldn’t live this past 20, sorry.

I was 21 and the time was spring 2001 when I went on my own to a feminist meeting. No one knew, at that time feminism was totally unspoken of even though feminism is older than dust. I was in a relationship at that time and I was wondering about the future and how does it work with a woman in your life, stuff like that. I didn’t trust girls when I was a teenager, they all seemed to not know or want anything from when they’ll be adults. To me what women of my generation were supposed to do was to have plans other than stay at home. But it was more complex to approach for them. Anyway, I had given up on getting information from Kurt Cobain and Slash fans. But here I was in my early 20s and wondering how do women feel in this world because yeah, I had never really asked myself that before (yes, pot). And I could already perceive that it was probably very different. I wanted to know why. I knew society kind of shapes our behavior too. I wanted to know how.

So there I am, one out of three other dudes, sitting in an overcrowded café in Paris. Women, all ages, all together. Us, deer shutting the fuck up, smiling awkwardly. And communication began. For my nerdy brain, groking all those points of view was enlightening as fuck. Same patterns as for racism, it helps. I guess it’s way harder for you white guys.

Years and years later, I made lifetime feminist friends, I walked the streets with them, I laughed and felt desperate at the state of what humans know and what we do. I had great sex with some feminists too, it’s all good guys. My dick is fine, didn’t get cut off. But you need to listen and stfu though. It’s a nice principle, I like it. Do the work in your head, in private, thanks.

14 years later though, it feels strange. Progress has been so slow, it’s even been reverted: in Spain when I started to dig feminism abortion was more than legal it was almost advertised, an Hispanic feature. Now they’re trying to ban that individual, basic woman right. India’s rape culture, barely imaginable. Chris Brown’s fans, Rihanna’s face. Religion back in full force since 9/11 fucked everything up to be honest. Also weird, the fact that feminism became bankable (hello, pop stars) and made the real arguments, the challenges that we have to take on fall in the background where no one looks at (salaries, anyone?). Meanwhile, dudes and bros don’t even bother evolve, they just ignore everything that says that they need feminism too, they’re too busy fitting in a dumb herd. In the mean time a lot of women took the heat and paid hard for their freedom, pushing a new generation born in this economic clusterfuck to reverse back to the good ol’ times. “Well you go get the money, honey. It’s crazy outside.”

I really don’t think there’s any other way to understand women’s lives thus making society a better place, without digging some feminism and that’s not done with a fight but a conversation where one listens for a very long time. That’s you dude, in case you’re a bit slow.

Change, and re-arrange. The only thing you’re going to lose is the illusion that men run everything. No, we are not. Never been.

I use Uber quite often. It’s awesome for riders. It’s terrible for drivers.

When I say it’s awesome it’s a bit more than that, it’s life-changing. Ordering transportation in a couple clicks, wait 5 minutes max and pay three times less than a cab is disrupting as fuck.

The problem is drivers make less and less because there’s more and more of them, Uber adds fees and more importantly doesn’t offer anything to their contractors: drivers have to pay everything for their cars.

It’s horrible because I can’t afford cabs –and their service sucks- and drivers can’t let the opportunity of making some bucks driving around LA for a couple hours go away.

It’s how Tech caters to the masses, which are cheap –we all are-, disconnect itself from any accountability –drivers are contractors- while Uber can experiment with hundreds of millions of dollars of investment. We’re like rats in a lab and it’s so obnoxious.

Let’s all jump to the future now and have a basic income and botcars (all of you drivers don’t look at the road anyway).

In my weekly communication with my parents, last week I wrote back to my mom talking about what’s going on here and I mention Ferguson, obviously and this story because that’s us. No answer. I get my sister by email later on, she’s literally writing “but, that’s racism!” and my mind goes blank because there’s so much to deal with when I read that.

Earlier today, Skype session with pop and mom. No mention, no questions. Nothing. It’s disappointing yet not surprising even here no white people want to engage on anything about race. We can’t solve anything if we never talk to each other but nevermind.

“I’m doing fine, for an immigrant black man” is something that pops up in my mind a tad too often. I have a pretty accurate idea of how built-in segregation is and when I see all those black men and women killed for nothing… I work for TV these days and yesterday I was running full speed out of a store with a phone cable in my hand in a super white neighborhood, what if my life was ended in 30s I thought and it made me run faster and cringe inside, very weird feeling.

When I sense all that my survival guts kick in. I wonder where I’m at the safest and it’s where I come from, statistically speaking. But then I trade a great energy and intoxicating vibe to a grey, fossilized and as-racist world. I did the test so often the past few years.

People love to intellectually jerk off on those wedding pictures but to me they’re drenched in Blues. I’m telling you from actual experience that this is the best part for those kids especially the black one. They’re so proud and happy and know it’s the future for humans. Even if they can sense that what they live is not the norm, they aren’t prepared for the actual world we’re living in. You know, the difference between “really?” and “fffuuu”.

Adopting kids outside your race is such a great idea, but such a heavy burden for us realizing when we’re out of the Perfect Bubble in which everyone is equal and things make perfect sense that it was not really real. And yet it’s the future.

We have pocket computers but this picture is still “amazing”. It’s so fucked up.

The US  internationally speaking, ugh.

Locally though, I’m having a blast. This morning I talked to that big dude I was saying hello to for months. He’s an architect and works in construction, lives a block away. Not only I have billions of question about construction and modern California architecture but he knows someone who does sound and who’s kind of searching for audio people with skills. Oh and my architect friend is giving me $700 worth of acoustic foam this weekend which is nice. BAM

Next at my favorite basketball playground I shot a video of brother J working out and talking, sending a super positive message about how you need to just do it you know the drill.

And then tonight this happened.

Glad she’s OK (but also that was the car I was supposed to use for my driving test). C’est la vie.

Crazy week son. I did so many different things. Yesterday was pretty awesome, travelled to Pasadena to get my landlord’s car and pick up some stuff for me from my friends over Burbank. I’m thankful for that sunset from my balcony, seriously. So good. Bad part is it’s starting earlier, I can’t eat at 18:48/6:48pm watching it.

Next week I finally have that behind the wheel driving test, after I drove a minivan for hours last week, I should be good. Yeah, you can drive with a temporary driver’s license and you need your own car to pass the test, it doesn’t really make sense (in France, you can’t drive until you have your license and they provide the car for the test because you’re not supposed to drive remember?).

Things I’ve been told:

“You don’t sound French…” said a cool dude, kindly all suspicious and shit.

“I need to make a gif of you walking, you look like straight out of Foxy Brown.” said a cool girl, laughing.

“LOOK AT IT” said a Uber driver, showing me how we’re the only car on my boulevard at 1:45am.

I haven’t gotten a flat tire in hundreds of miles on my bike and the odds are totally against me now. Do not like.

It’s not pessimistic, brother, because this is the blues. We are blues people. The blues aren’t pessimistic. We’re prisoners of hope but we tell the truth and the truth is dark. That’s different.

Cornel West, laying it down for me.

That prisoner of hope thing is the only thing that wakes me up and makes me want to do better. Powered by despair, batteries not included.

I broke down, in tears watching the video of that man getting arrested for sitting on a bench. Couldn’t cry for weeks with Ferguson and all the horrible lack of justice permeating our black lives (so many stories, so many) and this one really brought the “I can’t” in my eyes.

Then to make sure I would be blue the entire weekend I watched the documentary Noirs de France on YouTube, the story of black people in France from the mid 1700s to now, reminding me how and why I have been feeling more and more uncomfortable there. The past year in Paris, because I had problems speaking French I went up a notch on the racist scale, I could read the “that dude is a fucking immigrant who can’t speak” faces but I didn’t care. I’ve seen more, enjoyed more and took more shit than you dear cashier so your pesky judgmental attitude can’t even reach my toes. Fall back.

It’s not just that I have hope I’m also living it more often than not, being friends with so many different and awesome people. In just three months my black ass got new white, black, Mexican and Jewish friends of course Gaza and Ferguson feel like a breach in space time continuum, an insecure past that doesn’t match what I’m living. August 2014 showed me how far society is from me and how fragile multiculturalism is. August 2014 denies my life so much I want to punch that month in the face and choke it to sleep. Fuck you, August 2014.

Exhausting.

Fascinating to witness how the news deployed:

– A young black man killed. Black people lose their shit, white people stay mostly silent.

– Militarized police takes action, fucks the press over. Black people lose their shit, white people too.

Just this shows how race and lack of empathy are connected –not my race? I don’t feel anything- and it is so blatant and widespread it’s hard to watch in real time at a large scale.

I keep thinking of those white mass shooters, incarcerated and not killed on sight. I think of Christopher Dorner black ex LAPD cop who went on a rampage on police officers over “abuse allegations” (like it’s not plausible with any PD in the US). Burned down in a mountain cabin like it totally makes sense. Black life has no value on this planet.

I keep thinking of Mike Brown’s mom words: “do you know how hard it was to get him off the streets?” And she did, for nothing. Her son was executed. The situation could be so much worse down there. There is such a monstrous brewing anger in all of us black people watching this shit unfold for decades, dozens of Mike Brown after dozens of Mike Brown. You have no idea.

My white family that I love is completely out of my black experience, so hard. They don’t want to know, I told my sister she’s not even moved or feel for me. They’re fine sticking their heads in the sand, in their bubble being like “oh that’s why you’re sad?”. Jesus fuck, man.

I moved to CA. I just got my temporary driver’s license. I’m so scared to get arrested. What if I had just a little too much fun and the night ends up like the worst nightmare or even the End? I’m a target. At the same time I know it will probably not happen because I’m wary as fuck, I’ll use Uber as much as I can and unlike this poor guy I knew. But hell, that constant vigilance shit is exhausting.

I’m in Atwater Village for 3 weeks which Wikipedia tells me is 1.4% black. I live now in a 93% Latino and black neighborhood so the change is felt, people don’t look at me the same way here, courtesy is pretty dry. Always disappointing to experience first hand. The first days walking the dog, wearing my hoodie, I wasn’t feeling great. It’s beautiful around though.

I’m so tired of this constant anxiety. Nothing makes sense, nothing matters when you are in the position of potentially getting killed by the police knowing they’ll get away with it. Nothing matters.