Remembering Gordon

I’m thinking about Gordon Parks a lot lately because his birthday just passed at the end of November. He would have been 98. Another reason he’s been on my mind, I just recently spent three nights in a row in bed with his novel “The Sun Stalker.”

“The Sun Stalker” is so good, the story held me in its grip both as a reader and a writer. The main character is JMW Turner, the British landscape painter (1775-1851) whose achievements in art have been compared to Shakespeare’s in the realm of literature. It is simply breathtaking to witness how he renders the glare of the sun over land and water, and captures atmosphere and light in his seascapes and in his historical and mythological subjects. Turner was also a prolific artist, producing more than 20,000 paintings and drawings in his 60-year career.

Gordon Parks, possibly the most famous of Life magazine photographers, once told me that Turner had been an important influence in his own work. Turner was also an inspiration to the Scottish poet, Harry Craig, who said he once saw a Parks photograph in an exhibition that immediately reminded him of Turner’s painting, A Storm at Sea.

Together, the photographer and the poet tried to interest Hollywood in a movie about Turner’s life and work. But they got nowhere. One producer even nixed the idea, mistaking Turner the painter, with Nat Turner, leader of a slave rebellion and subject of a novel by William Styron. Before his death, poet Craig made Gordon promise to keep pursuing their movie idea. Though the movie never materialized, the idea morphed into Gordon’s novel.

In his handling of “The Sun Stalker”, Gordon is a cinematic story teller. He sometimes cuts from one scene to another in the way a movie director might film them. And no wonder. Gordon Parks was a filmmaker in addition to his many other talents: poet, composer, musician, memoirist, documentary maker.

Gordon, a black American man, was born into a harsh life on the Kansas prairie just 12 years into the 20th century, and details of his life are well known. By contrast, details of Turner’s real life remain mostly a mystery beyond the fact that he was the son of a London wigmaker. Despite their differences, the two artists had in common their rich imaginations and their keen observations of the telling details.

That Gordon could so fully imagine the trials and triumphs of a painting prodigy, make believable the people, places and events he might have experienced, and transport the readers to that other time and place and hold them there reveals a fabulous story teller at work. It’s what I think we all hope for as writers and readers. I know I do. I’m so grateful to Gordon Parks for leaving the legacy of his inspiring words and pictures.

The Race

I don’t know anyone whose life hasn’t been touched by breast cancer---either up close or at a distance. And, whether we recognize it or not, we are all in the struggle to come up with a cure.

I say this because we sometimes take actions unconsciously---not thinking about the consequences.

For instance, when we buy certain products, everything from greeting cards to cars to yogurt, part of the purchase price may be going to help fund breast cancer research, education and support services. We may be donating without even realizing it, not doing so consciously and deliberately.

I have lost people who were the closest to me---relatives and friends-- to breast cancer. And I have some who are breast cancer survivors. With the disease striking so close to me, I grow fearful every year as the date approaches for my annual mammogram and breast exam. There have been times when I let the date pass, postpone it ‘til I can’t ignore the voice asking me about my fear and assuring me that I can face it down.

I’m lucky and I know it. I have seen the same wise and wonderful radiologist, Dr. Gail Phillips, for the last 15 years or so. We met when I worked for News 12 Long Island at a time when activists in the area were searching for clues to why breast cancer incidence seemed unusually high in their communities.

Dr. Phillips goes over my x-rays with me, calmly pointing out the tiny calcifications present in my breast tissue. She explains why some look suspicious and others don’t. When she thought biopsies were called for, I had them. About three times. Each time they have come back negative. Dr. Phillips is as relieved as I am when after she reviews my mammogram, she can say, “OK, Melba, everything’s fine.” I return to the changing room grateful, grateful, grateful.

So, I’m thinking that when the Komen NYC Race for the Cure sets off in Central Park on Sunday, September 12, I will consciously, deliberately make my gratitude manifest. Give some bucks and put on my walking shoes. (I’m not a runner).

REGISTER AT KOMENNYC.ORG/RACE

STRINGS ATTACHED

Last Friday, August 27, was one of those “You should have been there” evenings. There was Trenton, NJ. Not a place I especially associate with extraordinary violinists or out-of-this-world modern dance. Just goes to show how wrong some assumptions can be.

The occasion was a fundraising held in the War Memorial/Patriots Theater, an architecturally stately building that surely has its own story to tell. On this night, a ballroom full of peaceful patriots turned out to give financial and moral support to The Conservancy (NJ). The Conservancy (NJ)is both a place and a dream. It is becoming a center where young people and artists come together for learning and teaching. Think of art in the broadest sense of the word and you’ll be in tune with Sterick and Jacqui Ivey. They are the driving force in resurrecting the historic Trenton Conservatory of Music--where young Jacqui Ivey took piano lessons-- as The Conservancy (NJ). They envision a place where children engage in all sorts of artistic expressions from cooking to drumming. "There’s a lot of talent in Trenton” she says. Given the current cutbacks in public school art programs, Jacqui Ivey feels the need is urgent, and she is determined to nourish young talent while promoting local artists and arts events in the process.

The benefit performances were stunning, with The Wesley Drears Duo, Dancespora and the Scott Tixier Group taking turns on stage. Scott, just 24 yrs old, is an amazing jazz violinist (with a ‘fro that won’t quit). A native of France who now calls Brooklyn home, Tixier is winning kudos within New York’s jazz musician community.
His energy and virtuosity got me thinking about the late Noel Pointer,the brilliant jazz violinist,record producer and social activist who I admired and once interviewed. Pointer, also a Brooklynite, died of a stroke in '94 just before he would have turned 40. As an activist, he led fellow artists in raising public awareness around the controversial dismantling of the African Burial Grounds in lower Manhattan. His legacy also includes a foundation and a music school. Empowering Children One Note At A Time was the mission of Noel Pointer. I am inspired and feel the thread of our human connectedness when I see people like Scott Tixier and Eric Thomas, a Trenton elementary school teacher,---and others--joining with the Iveys in that same spirit and commitment.Check out the web info on Scott Tixier and Noel Pointer. And learn more about the Iveys work: www.theconservatorynj.com
href="http://www.theconservatorynj.com/">http://www.theconservatorynj.com/) .

For The Record

Stuff happens on the Internet sometimes that makes me wonder. Case in point: A photo of me turned up in someone’s blog post and beneath the picture is this line: “1971 Nightly News.” Problem is that image (which I was never crazy about because it looks like I borrowed my hairstyle from Albert Einstein or Don King) was shot last year, not 29-years ago as that line suggests. Also, Nightly News is the title of NBC’s network news program. I was never associated with it though I did work at WNBC-TV, the local station, for 5 years. There is a difference.
(You’ll find a link to the blog in question at the end of this.)

That said, I appreciate the blogger’s mention of me. But I disagree with the commentary describing the back-and-forth about natural versus permed or weaved hair as a debate. In my opinion it’s not a debate at all. More like people in media looking to stir up controversy on a slow news day, aided and abetted by fearful folks who think their way is the only way. And when you throw in Chris Rock and his movie, you’ve got distraction posing as a documentary fronted by a comedian who seemed to be in over his head trying to be funny (or is it serious?) about black women and their hair.

Real dialogue, on the other hand, is what occurred at last year’s Heads Up! A Soulful Celebration of Our HAIRitage. This program at Brooklyn’s Kumble Theatre was an invitation to “talk, laugh and be fearlessly tender-headed.” It featured an academic, a filmmaker, and an environmentalist joined by writers, hair care entrepreneurs, musicians and performers who engaged in a grown-up, thoughtful and multi-layered look at issues, implications and assumptions related to our hair. No name calling. No finger pointing. No taking sides about whose hair is better than anyone else’s. A standing-room-only audience walked away with plenty of food for thought.

In her commentary, the blogger asks, “What has hair to do with advancing our people or solving any of the societal ills black people are facing today?” I think whenever our hair prompts dialogue that gives us insights into these conditions, it’s a good thing. Whenever discussions about our hair opens doors for developing strategies to resist self-limiting ideas, it’s a good thing. Whenever reasoning about our hair helps us dismantle the insidious notion that being black is some kind of disability, rather than a gift, it’s a good thing.

So, I say let enlightened discussions continue. We’ll be doing our part on September 29th 2010 when we present the next edition of Heads Up! A Soulful Celebration of Our HAIRitage.

Stay tuned.

http://essence.com/hair/commentary_1/commentary_hair_politics_natural_vs_permed_php

The Decision

Ohioans love their sports. I know because I grew up in Akron, Ohio where the zeal for basketball and football was almost a religion---and still is. Where sports at all levels---high school, college and the pros ---attract high energy fans
.
Sell-out crowds used to jam South High School’s gym (my alma mater), and Central Hower High’s, too, in basketball season. Those same folks could be counted on to fill Akron’s Rubber Bowl for football games. And it was a source of pride in Akron that the Cleveland Browns football team ---and their future Hall-of-Famer, Jim Brown--- sometimes used our stadium as their practice field.

Those were the days when Akron owned the title “Rubber Capital of the World. “ That reputation died a while back. But my hometown is still where the Soap Box Derby is run, going back to 1935.

And baseball? Back in the day, my family rooted for the Cleveland Indians and as a kid I got to watch Satchel Page, Larry Doby, Lou Boudreau and other legends in action. We went nuts when Cleveland won the World Series in ‘48.

So why am I reminiscing about the good old glory days of Akron and Cleveland sports? All these thoughts came flooding back as I followed reports about The Decision, that cliffhanger starring Lebron James.

The news in a nutshell: Lebron, basketball super-star who was born, raised and grew his basketball greatness in Akron, chose to exercise his free-agent option and exchange his Cleveland Cavaliers uniform for one from the Miami Heat. It’s worth mentioning here that long before the Cavs drafted Lebron right out of high school, Gus Johnson and Nate Thurman---both of them Akronites, had already preceded him into the National Basketball Association and made their homies proud.

Considering Lebron’s roots , I wasn’t surprised that he broke a lot of hearts when he announced he was hitting the highway and taking his talents to South Beach.

And I shouldn’t have been surprised that The Decision generated so much hoopla, hyperbole and yes, hypocrisy. But from the reaction, you’d have thought Lebron was ditching America to go join the Taliban in Afghanistan.

For years, sportswriters couldn't heap enough praise on Lebron, starting while he was still in high school. Basketball fans far and wide compared him to Michael and Kobe. After the Cavs drafted him, giant size Lebron billboards sprouted around Cleveland’s Q arena and local fans gobbled up seasons tickets to watch him. Anybody selling anything Cavaliers-related loved them some Lebron.

But once The Chosen One made his choice, those folks turned on him. Some of the hotheads even set their Lebron number 23 jerseys on fire, motivated perhaps by a nasty open letter from the Cavs owner in which he called Lebron everything but a child of God.


In what looked to me like a rationalization of their irrational reactions, some of Lebron’s critics said it wasn’t his departure that turned them off, but his “process” and The Decision, ESPN’s ridiculously hyped-to-the heavens television show that turned them off. They claimed that breaking the news in a cable tv "special" televised live to an audience of 10 million viewers was nothing more than a sorry display of Lebron’s massive ego.

By most assessments, The Decision was hands down the most lame tv show in history. I agree. But why blame Lebron for ESPN's ineptitude? The cable network produced and aired the show, not Lebron. It’s not his fault that ESPN padded the first half of the "special"with 4 sportscasters sitting around asking each other "What do you think Lebron's gonna do?" As if at least one of them hadn't already had that question answered by one of his "sources".


Sure, Lebron agreed to do the show, but the guy was only using and being used by the same media folks that built the pedestal he’s now standing on. They had more than a hand in making him the over-the-top super-celebrity that he has become. A mega celeb who can keep people talking and wondering "What do you think Lebron's gonna do?" for the better part of the last NBA season.


Sports columnists, experts and commentators on radio and tv fed off of Lebron speculation for months leading up to The Decision. The hype leached into most of medialand, even reaching supposedly serious news pograms.

Now, many of these same folks are among the name-callers and the critics who talk about hype and the media as if they themselves are not part of the celebrity-making process, the ones that helped turn a kid with a talent for basketball into the greatest thing since sliced bread. The media, the NBA, the marketers, the Cavaliers owners and organization---and not least of all, the fans----crowned King James---and now they're pissed because he's acting the part and speaking of himself in the third person.


The fans and the Cavs organization now damming Lebron ought to be thankful. He did, after all, give the Cavs 7 good years, led them to the NBA finals in 2007, to the best record in the league in the last 2 years, into the playoffs 5 times, to say nothing of putting Cleveland and Akron in the spotlight and back on the sportsworld map.


As for The Decision to change employers, according to Labor Department statistics, Americans aged 18 to 38 will change jobs 10 times in a lifetime. That gives Lebron 9 more times to move his talents to another workplace. It’s time to cut the guy some slack.

Michael, Madoff and Palin

I've wanted to write something about covering Michael Jackson and the Jacksons at Madison Square Garden many years ago. But I couldn't recall the exact concert dates. So, I put off posting anything, Then I remembered I had a T-shirt from the event stored away in one of the dozens of boxes in my garage. And lo and behold! there it was, in the box neatly labeled T-shirts, and looking brand new. Guess I never even wore the thing. But at least it confirms that I didn't imagine covering that concert for WNBC-TV on either the 18th or 19th of August in 1981.

What I remember most vividly about that night was spotting Katherine Hepburn in the MSG audience. She was seated a few rows away from me with her grandniece, and when the concert opened with the wall of sound, the fantastic lights and pyrotechnics, the Jacksons all rhinestoned-up, sliding and gliding and bumping and grinding to "Can You Feel It?", Ms. Hepburn looked startled and rushed to put her hands over her ears.

From New York, the Jackson tour went on to Boston. Thanks to a friend who was one of Jackson's managers and arranged my interview, I got to see the concert a second time. Both times--- when I was granted a backstage "audience" with Michael at MSG and when I witnessed the Jackson arrival at the arena in Boston--- what left a lasting impression on me was how my friend and everyone connected with the Jacksons tip-toed around Michael. Whatever he said, was the final word. Whatever he wanted, was granted. All the adults seemed cowed by the kid.

In short, it seemed even to me---an outsider--- that nobody said "no" to Michael. Nobody who wanted to keep their job or stay in his good graces. Michael seemed to have learned early on that his talent was power and with that power he could bend people to his will.

I think it's not too big a stretch to say that what was true of the King of Pop, could also be said of Bernard Madoff, the King of Ponzi Schemes and of Sarah Palin, the Alaska Distractor.

Like Michael, the quintessential performer, Madoff and Palin have displayed blinding performance skills in their respective fields of finance and politics. Madoff convinced his investors that he was the master of money, that he could make big bucks for them even when just about everyone else was losing theirs. And Palin, well, she could deliver a speech--written by somebody else and read off Tele-Prompt-R---better than all the high profile Republican presidential wannabes combined, and could draw crowds that cast candidate John McCain in the role of second banana on his own ticket.

Now Michael is dead. Madoff is behind bars for 150 years. And Palin, though she has left the building and gotten rid of the governor title, is still on the loose. Still looking for the best way to leverage the extraordinary magnetism she is said to exert on some people.

I think it can also be said that Michael, Madoff and Palin are/were extraordinary in a couple of other ways First there were the numbers each could command. There was Michael rocking the music world with Thriller, his 110-million ( or is it 90 million?) best seller album plus all his other albums and hit singles. Then Madoff , said to have guaranteed 13 to 20% annual returns to his investors. One of whom, in a telling quote, said people invested in Madoff, not with him. And Palin ,warm up act and main attraction for stadium-filling fans in the tens of thousands who tended to drift off whenever she turned the mike over to the man responsible for luring her into the GOP spotlight.

And for the news and entertainment media, where numbers rule, these three--in life, in death, in handcuffs---were like manna from ratings and sales heaven. How to explain the over-the-top coverage of these folks? Well, blame it on their ability to attract the numbers. Or as Rachel Maddow put it one evening on her MSNBC show, "The reason she (Palin) is so newsworthy is because she is so popular."

Aah yes. Popularity. Like so much in this life, popularity in moderation feels good. Extreme popularity, on the other hand, can kill you. Or land you in jail. Or have you believing you are all that even when the hard evidence clearly says you are not.

Hey, Nurse!

There are real nurses. And then there are reel ones. Fifty-three years ago some of us who earned our stripes in nursing entered what might be called the marine boot camp for nursing students: The Bellevue School of Nursing.





In recent weeks, one of the networks debuted a dramatic series with a nurse as the lead character, HawthoRNe. Just in case you missed it, this nurse is not only an RN, her professional title is embedded in her last name. Clever, right? She's played by the beautiful Jada Pinkett Smith. Ms Smith---the wife of actor, Will Smith--- is also the show's executive producer.





On another channel, another nurse drama, Nurse, Jackie. ( I almost slipped and said Nurse, Judy but Judy's a judge in one of those reality shows headlined by people in black robes, not white lab coats.) Edie Falco stars as Nurse Jackie. In reel life Ms Falco was the beleagured wife of Tony Soprano.





Now, I admit I haven't seen either of these shows. But I have seen some Hawthorne promos and I caught Ms Falco on The View and heard her in an interview with NPR's Terri Gross. And one thing I observed that these reel nurses have in common: they are both tough cookies! In one of the Hawthorne promos our heroine is being manhandled by somebody in what looks to be a hospital corridor or maybe it's a police precinct. Her hair is messed up pretty badly, there's blood down the front of her lab coat and she's screaming at the top of her lungs: "Let go of me, I'm a nurse." Maybe she's being arrested or just having a bad day in the ER. In fairness, there are other promos with Ms Smith looking very subdued as she looks out at us--her audience-- and assures us, "I'm on your side." Or maybe "I'm always fighting for you." Something like that.





Ms Falco, making the rounds to promote her show, looked great on The View. Like a woman proud of her shapely legs and anxious to show them. But she was decked out in a dress so tight and so short that it was distracting to watch her spend half her talk time tugging at her hem. On radio, where legs and hems don't matter, Ms Falco made a point of saying that she likes acting parts of tough women of very few words. Or something like that. Anyhow in a clip from the show, Ms Falco as Nurse Jackie was giving a big shot doctor hell. I think she may have reversed one of the doctor's orders because she believed his prescribed treatment wouldn't be good for the patient. I almost fell off my chair when I heard that exchange. Actually is wasn't really an exchange because I think the doctor was mostly speechless.





I know nursing has changed a whole lot in the 50 years since Bellevue awarded me my diploma. But I can't believe today's nurses are telling doctors to drop dead, or something like that. Less than a month ago, I had a chance to interview and spend time with dozens of my former classmates---many of them retired now---and not a one sounded anything like Nurses Jackie and Hawthorne.





Real nurses from back in our day, remember when women's career options were limited to nurse, teacher and social worker. All of the so-called "helping professions." Today, it's a whole different story.





That's a point I made when I tried to get a couple of news organizations to cover the reunion of my class on May 16. I thought there was a story worth telling about women who came along in the days before "women's lib", who were members of one of the largest classes of nurses-in- training in the history of Bellevue Hospital, itself one this country's oldest public hospitals. In it's day, Bellevue attracted the best and the brightest from all over (not being immodest here) and on graduating they served in all sorts of situations: clinics, ORs, ERs, Viet Nam, the US Senate, schools, Indian reservations. They assumed leadership roles in the profession and helped educate students and younger nurses. Some got married and raised families and continued working.





But guess what? There was no actionable interest in these real nurses. Fugeddabout it! Who gives a darn about people whose work is helping save lives, not taking them.?Or about women from the 60's who are over 60 when that 60-seconds of air time on your average news and talk shows could be spent on murders and celebrity hotties in thigh high dresses. The real life adventures of nurses were not reel enough. And since I started this post, Michael Jackson has died! Michael Jackson 24/7 on MSNBC puts the lie to the often heard media mantra, "Oh, we don't have enough time for (fill in the blank), or "We're running out of time, could you sum up your remarks in 10-seconds?"





I'm not expressing sour grapes here. I spent almost 30 years covering all sorts of breaking news and features as well as so-called "human interest" stories (a dumb term if I ever heard one. Any story lacking human interest has no place in any news outlet). So I know a good story when I see one. I thought some other folks might, too. But they were busy with the swine flu, or some other panic story that had not yet materialized.





More than ever news stories are about what "may" happen, what "could" happen. What "is"
happening is just too....uhmmm, too boring. Not scary enough. Today's reporters need to be predictors, crystal ball gazers. It's not enough to be here now, one must be way ahead in the future. Speculating, for instance, about who will be running for president in 2012!





I fear that many American have reached a point where they prefer the reel to the real. How else to explain the popularity of the mis-named "reality" shows? Or of Hummers, the military vehicle-style for people who wouldn't be caught dead on a real battlefield say in Pakistan or Afghanistan.



Here we are smack dab in the middle of a national debate about reforming our health care system and the delivery of health care so that all Americans are not only covered, but can get quality care without bankrupting the nation and where are nurses' voices being heard? Not on Face The Nation, Meet The Press, This Week....or any of the media platforms that supposedly educate the populous and give exposure to opinion-makers.

Nurses are and have always been important actors on the health care scene! And I'm talking about real nurses, not the people who play nurses on television.