New Changes

This blog is on life support. After some thought, I am thinking of just pulling the plug on it. However, I have decided to give myself permission to reinvent the blog for 2014. New ideas, new directions... That is all for now.

My Child

I saw you on yesterday. You made me happy. Yet, you seemed to be so far away. I asked you if everything was alright. You replied yes, but it doesn't feel right. So, you played your music, through a veil of silence. Yet that veil, might as well been a wall. Dividing us and multiplying things. Subtracting our connection but causing things to not add up. So, like God. I wait. Until you speak again, My child. Richard J Wright

Bible Study A Path In Ministry

Forgetting You're Black

Negro, where ya been?

Where have I been? I ask that of myself all the time. Life feels like a time warp that you fly through and other days it feels like a DJ Screw tape, slowed and chopped. Regardless, I have been just laying in the cut. I have written pieces but I decided to let them wallow in the saving file. Perhaps some of them will see the light of day, but I am not sure. I have an abundance of material but decided against publishing it because I felt some of work was incomplete. Some offerings need more and others need less. Yes, I am a bit off but hey such is life for a brotha. So what's up? Well, I just celebrated another birthday. That was cooler than penguin's beak. Life is pretty good. It isn't perfect, (when is it ever) but it is pretty doggone good. Work is work and I am on vacation starting today so that is always peace with me. I am working on some pieces this week. A play and a skit for church programs upcoming and trying to lock down the new book I am starting. Writing takes time, and it takes patience. Sometimes, I would be honest and say I don't have but God is showing me.

Random Thoughts

Enjoyed dinner with my pooh bear. Fries was too salty, tragic. Doctor's visit was good, I hope things are even better in six months. I felt old looking at these youngsters today in the mall. Something is missing. I don't know what it is. I couldn't help but think about that situation today. LORD, please help my mama to be happy. I'm not so sure about this event. I will go reluctantly, maybe there will be a blessing.

Becoming Bored... A Cautionary Tale

Boredom. It happens all the time. Well, perhaps not all the time but you can find yourself right there. In this season, I find myself here. Uninspired. Unmotivated. Basically too many doggone uns in my life at this time. I thought by now I would be knee deep in the writing of my next book. Yet, I barely even care. First it was writers block, then it was no time. Yet, I gotta be honest with myself. I am bored. Lets be a little honest. Work. Is very boring. I am not challenged and there are day where I just want to walk away. I am not using my degrees and finding a position in my company isn't going to happen it seems. I do my work and at times I have fun at it. Yet, this isn't what I want to do for the next 10 years of my life. I am contemplating going into teaching. Truth is, I do not know if I really want to do that. Yes, I have a gift for it. However, given what teachers are faced with on a day to day basis, its not exactly paying a truck load of money. Teachers are grossly underpaid. Which is why I have stayed on my job because I will basically make the same money. Better to deal with the devil you know, versus the one you do not. Church life. I love church. I love ministry. However, I would be lying to say I am not bored. Perhaps there is some sin in my life that is making me feel empty. I don't know. Either way. I am. I don't like it and I am sure I am not the only person who has ever been here. I hold a servant's position but I am feeling this way. I still love God, I still love the work. Perhaps, I should pray more. LORD deliver me from this boredom. I don't like this feeling. I gotta fight through it. There is no other way. I could find some new hobbies or something but I feel I will only become bored with that later on. I do know that at the end of the day, I am not hopeless. One of my all time favorite HBO series called "The Wire" featured a scene where a cop who went undercover was shot. As she recovered in the hospital, a couple of detectives came to see her to see if she could identify her assailants. She identified one of the men that shot her but refused to identify another one though one of the detectives clearly was directing her to identify him. She quietly remarked to him these words, "Some things just gotta play hard". In this situation, I just have play it hard through it. Truthfully, that is all of the excitement I can take at this moment anyway. In a strange way, maybe God is doing me a favor. Hmmm...

Caged Masculinity Archive post 11/17/2009

I am trapped in a cage of masculinity. Wrapped in chains appearing in invisibility. Tortured by the thought that I have be strong. Not realizing what I thought was strong, was so wrong. To be hugged by my father was not commonplace. Yet, even today there's barely a trace. Knowing that he was not hugged himself. Caused him to transfer this burden of wealth. "Fix your face, boy dont cry" All the time my spirit mourns silently asking "Why?" I have never understood the opposite sex. It caused me to have toxic relationships and expect. Love dont love nobody and who's gonna love me. If love dont mean nothing and especially if I am not free. The best things in life are free. Then why do I suffer cost continually? With God's help I have been able to heal. Take the emotions and wisdom I hold and feel, with the right mindset and perspective. To have balance is my one objective. Be strong, but not be ashamed of my tears. Be faithful, though i have failed over the years. Be sensitive when I want to be cold. Be vibrant in all things and love bold. I just want to be a man, and not be defined by things. Especially my masculinity and all the tradition it brings. Richard J Wright (2009)

Interracial Connections

Interracial connections are apart of the learning experience in this world. The one thing you as a person must realize is that this is a big world and you are not as important as you think you are. As a Black man, people of other ethnicities, have their thoughts about me. Black men are either adored or shunned completely. We have a unique perspective, experience, and world view. Truthfully, there is no such thing as a Black man. Like all classification, the tenets are based upon inferred conclusions. A brother once told me that Black people are like snow flakes. None two are alike. That is the truth. Which beckons the question? How can we unite if we are not the same? We can only come together in our commonality. Steve Cokely use to say that Black people can only unite in two capacities, victory or defeat. All one has to do is look at the Travon Martin killing and George Zimmerman trial. The results of a not guilty verdict was met with wide spread protest. In the aftermath of the verdict, a couple of the jurors have spoken up. Both citing the law as the reason Zimmerman was found not guilty. The rap group Above the Law had a song lyric that says "It's not what you know, it's what you can prove". The latest juror to come out, the only Hispanic said that Zimmerman got away with murder. The law was on his side. What is interesting is that people by just looking at her, might conclude that she is a Black woman. Just cause it looks Black, doesn't make it Black clearly.

KCOH this morning on person to person with the legendary Michael Harris talked expressively about race today. It was an interesting exchange with the co-hosts chiming in. The perspectives on race have changed but the old paradigm lingers. Particularly with the older ones among us. Black men today share relationships with people of many different people. This is an interesting thing because At 45, I do not have friends among other racial or ethnic groups. I have desired those relationships but over the years, nothing really developed outside of the workspace. At work, there are people who you get to know because you share time and space with them but even that sharing is limited often to sole task of making our respective employers rich above measure. In my work field I encounter people of different backgrounds everyday. I do find myself wondering if these same "friendly" people would be friendly if they saw me on the street somewhere. Its a conversation I have with myself because I do realize that as a Black man, I am the object of scorn and fear for some people. At times you have to communicate to people that you are harmless. A friendly hello or smile from time to time helps. I have to solicit conversations many times to break the awkwardness of someone's perception. In elevators, you see the tugs of purses. On sidewalks, you hear the doors on cars lock. Its an amazing dynamic. Some people would rather be feared and hated for what they are than loved for what they are not. Years ago, a middle eastern American said a remarkable statement to me. He said he liked Michael Jordan because he didn't act Black. Whatever that means. I knew what he was getting at. Black people tend to let people know they are Black from time to time. Its not like we run up in buildings and announce to the audience that "hey, the Black guy is here!". No. Black people tend to really not take any crap. We have and taken enough and still to this day continue to but some stuff we call BS on and we have no problem regulating when we have to. This attitude tends to offend people but guess what, too often we are on the offended side. A lot us are mad. We have a right to be. Slavery, Jim Crow, lynchings, discrimination, poverty tend to piss people off. I have heard often that Hispanics make better workers than Blacks because of our attitudes. Harder workers, less attitude. As a result, 12 to 13 million illegal aliens from across the border call America home.

In America, Brown people or Hispanic or a better term La Raza, are our closest allies. However, there are problems. Huge ones. Historically, we have suffered similar fates due to our economic struggles. Our neighborhoods are filled with Black and Brown people struggling to get the same dollar. Often, the criminal element has exploited this dynamic. Turf wars and gang violence are the results of misunderstandings and greed in the drug trade. Yet, we all know we share much more than that. Historically, whether its out East or West or down South Black and Brown can and do work together. However, the slave master does what he does and divides the people. Yet, we know together we are far better off than if we try to separate ourselves from one another especially we live in the same communities. I admire the La Raza. They are a beautiful people with a rich history. Game recognize game. Since we are beautiful people with a rich history, we can appreciate others who have that as well. Everything is education. We should encourage our youth to study and learn who people really are. People are more than what they eat. For some reason, we want to reduce our knowledge base to a carnal level by enjoying something people perhaps commonly ingest. Such is foolishness. While I can get with some good Tex Mex, I know that isn't the whole sphere of who they are. People are too complex for that short sightedness. The issue of Black people connecting with people outside will always be intriguing. I love and respect all of God's people. Its a shame that often times, we do not get that same love and respect. The crazy part is this. Black people are admired throughout the world for their struggle. While ignorance runs rampant in our communities and people who do not look like us tend to exploit that pain through the marketplace, these same people have to also admire our people's resolve when it comes to freedom. This country is brewing with a variety of people from all over the world. Black people fought and died to make it so. Its just too bad, many people will not or cannot see the truth.

Archive Post "Dream land Occurances" 2/27/10

Dreams.
Some folks dream and others do not.
I am one who happens to dream... alot.

Tonight, or should I say this morning I had two dreams.
Without going into detail because some stuff is just too personal and wayout after all its a dream.
All I can remember from the first dream was I was a pastor.
I was teaching, and I could see the church I pastored.

All I can really remember from the next dream was I was a gangster. I was shooting at some people and I remember my crew being under fire and us going through a small opening in a window and laying down those who attacked us.

Then I woke up.
I then heard a voice say... "choose life".
I then heard another voice say, "six millions ways to die... choose one".
Then I heard myself say... yeah, there are six million ways to die, but only one way to live".

Bizarre.
Sobering.
Truth.

Is it something I ate or more?

Life versus Abundance or the Appearance of It.

What Do We Do? A call for reflection and action

What Do We Do? A call for reflection and action. In the wake of the George Zimmerman trial verdict, people are upset. The not guilty verdict has sparked protests and has charged the nation emotionally. While I share my people’s pain and disgust with the verdict, I am torn as well. How much responsibility do we as a people have in the face of injustice? How much personal responsibility must be laid at our feet? I read online a comment from a pastor who said that Trayvon Martin was a sacrifice. I found the comment a bit disturbing. If Trayvon was a sacrifice, who benefits and should we thank George Zimmerman for getting out of his car? Poppycock. Here is the deal. Black America can be mad, irritated, frustrated, or sad. We can go through a plethora of emotions but at some point, we must look in the mirror. While it’s popular to say things like “I am Trayvon Martin”, the questions begin to form; “Who is Trayvon Martin and do I really want to be him?” Let me be clear. I cannot excuse what George Zimmerman did. I will not excuse what George Zimmerman did. However, we have to ask ourselves what could have Trayvon did to save his own life? People on the radio this past week humorously spoke about Trayvon getting the best of Zimmerman. Yet, no matter how he fared in the fight, he still wound up dead with a gunshot wound in the heart. How wonderful it was to see the Miami Heat basketball team to be photographed in hoodies? Then I saw something online that bother me. Somebody photo shopped a picture of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr in a hoodie. I found the gesture about as noble as a ring in a pig’s snout. I ask myself what bothered me about it. I realized that a work of art is subject to interpretation. The meanings I will find will not be the same as another. The only thing the two men have in common, Dr. King and Trayvon Martin aside the fact they were both Black and are dead is the fact that their lives were taken from them. It is hard to bridge their lives in my mind. President Barrack Obama apparently has no problem making that bridge. He reflected on his own life and wonders to himself he too could be Trayvon Martin. All of us Black males, boys and men, could be a Trayvon Martin. However, our decision making could be the difference. At this point, I want to hold the mirror up to us. Trayvon was a teenager who happened to talk recklessly and smoke pot. Even though George Zimmerman was on trial, Trayvon Martin’s character was put on blast. If I had a dollar for every time that fact was swept under the proverbial rug by many Black folks, I might be able to pay off my student loans. It is the questionable character of our dear brother that suffered the most. Good credibility in court is like having A-1 credit to a bank. You are perceived to be trustworthy. If you have questionable credibility, well you might have to go a rent to own store because you shown yourself to not be so trusting. Can we really blame the jury that found George Zimmerman not guilty? Sure we can. However, let us be honest. George Zimmerman fit the profile of a neighborhood watch man; somebody who cared about the community and somebody who was trying to protect it. Trayvon’s facebook page and his past were outlined as troublesome. Like so many misguided youth, he portrayed himself as perhaps a “thug”. While his character and issues should not matter. Trust me. It does matter. A good name is more precious than rubies. Ok. I have a question. Why was Trayvon walking to the store in the middle of the night? It was late and why is a 17 year old child walking to the store alone at that time of the night? Where was his dad? Call me old fashioned but if any child of mine asks me can they walk to the store at midnight will get nothing less than a no from me. We do not know what happened that night. The horrible truth is only Trayvon knows and he cannot tell us. It is time for our community to begin to have the conversation. How do we protect ourselves? In the face of this trial, the extreme among us may begin to justify arming our children. Honestly, the questions beckon a resounding “why not?” If Joe Citizen can kill our children in the face of “feeling threatened”. Well, all bets are off. I cannot emphasize enough the importance of having this conversation. We have talk to our teens and young men. Town hall meetings with our youth are in order. Black leadership needs to listen and Black leadership needs to undergo reform. If the scholars and philosophers among us can question President Obama, then those who claim “Black” leadership can have their feet put to the fire. While folks complain about the clock being rolled back, some of us are snoozing at the wheel. Let us be honest. Power backs up only to power. Marching has its merits but at some point we are going to have build a war chest of resources and stay out of the mall. You fight this war with your choices. You vote, you keep your representatives and senators accountable. You keep your community activists honest. Most of all, you affect the bottom line economically by saving, investing and spending with your people. All of the money we spend in this country should have us at the top of the food chain instead pleading with Massa for justice. We must think globally as well. Years ago Randall Robinson wrote a book called “Quitting America”. At some point, we too must entertain that option. That is the wonderful thing. WE HAVE OPTIONS! WE DO NOT HAVE TAKE ANY OF THIS. In closing, we need to address the violence of our children. We cannot expect people to take us seriously, if we are not outraged by the senseless murders that take place in the country every single day. Every day, Black males are going to prison or the cemetery. We need to deal with this. Our community needs to heal. That can only happen if we repent. As mad as we are at those who make policies and laws we hate. We need to sweep around our own stoop. In my opinion, nothing can happen until we show God we are serious about healing. Our children need resources, faith, purpose and a plan. If protest is all we tend to do, then we need to protest that!

Candy and Tea

Candy and tea is a weird combination to me. Perhaps one or the other, belong to the 12 year old brother. Candy and tea has never really appealed to me. Or is it walking in the rain for it a little insane. Candy and tea will never agree with me. Or perhaps its the hoodie covering my head, or something I might have said, to cause me to wind up dead. You can taste the rainbow, get married in the rainbow, get rights for the rainbow, I just don't know. Or you can drink tea from Arizona and by morning be a goner. Or you can move to Arizona, and face conservative cacti that will prick you, and pick you, and trick you, and flick you, and nick you. I just don't know. And Florida with its bad weather, bad voting booths, and scandalous truths. Stand your ground, only to be found, on the ground, shot down by a mad dog, without a badge, without a care, property value means more I dare. Black life rates real low, just don't go to the corner store Skittles and Arizona tea. Skittles rings up at $1.09. Arizona tea rings up $1.09. Don't forget the tax. Because they tax our lives. They tax our pain. They tax our babies out in the rain. Just a doggone shame. Nothing left to explain. Candy and tea just doesn't do it for me. Richard J Wright 2013

Bible Study: Treasure Hunting for Christian Single Men

Peace By Pieces

The pieces of a human are fragile. Delicate as an autumn leaf in the hands of a child. Together they make one whole. Yet, they are torn apart by sin. Where is peace when war is all a man knows? His thoughts of it are looming pipedreams, they dance in his head like a sweet lullaby. He is reduced to believing it can't be real. His hope is in his hopelessness. So sad. So sad indeed. Yet, he learns one day about a savior. A man named Jesus. He makes him whole, and gives him peace, in pieces of a sacrament. To commemorate His life, which was broken for man. Through His brokenness are we made whole. No longer in pieces, but in peace by His pieces torn for you and I. Richard J Wright (2008) from the book Odyssey: Faith In the Strength of Israel

random thoughts... 5 things that say you are preacher

1. Everything means something. 2. You have more than 3 bibles. 2 of them are raggedy. 3. Either you are loved greatly or people cannot stand you. 4. Your family doesn't understand you. 5. You have 3 suits that need buttons or alterations.

Samson. A Cautionary Tale

A Man's Heart

A man's heart is seldom revealed, for his world consists of many things concealed. Whether its anger hidden in teardrops or pain for respect and props. He will not share with you, even when you desire him to. For a man must have thick skin to hold a tender heart. Otherwise the people in his life, might be tempted to rip it apart. So you are spoon fed pieces of a man. A sort of incompleteness with no room to expand. You plead with him to share his heart because perhaps you might have shared yours. You constantly try to peek behind the mask. You so often find yourself the last. So I will share mine with this one thought in mind. You do not know me so you do not have to be kind. You can ridicule or disrespect, yet you cannot puncture what has been concealed to protect. For my dreams and motives desires and ambitions lead me to strange shores producing curious predispositions. I live, I love, I learn, I laugh, and I cry just like you but perhaps not in words I could reply. Instead study my eyes and peek into my soul. They are not wells of pain masked in glares so cold. If you smile at me, I smile at you. Frown at me and this is what I do too. I could hide behind pride, but that would be a lie. So instead trying to see, what you want to see. See life for what it is and be free. For I will love if I am allowed to. For I have to pay like you what is due. Just hold the moment grasp it in the palms of your hands. Do not wish for more than you really can stand. Take it for what it’s worth and learn to love a man. For his heart is like yours if you take the time apart, to learn the worth of one man's heart. Richard J Wright

Freedom...Whose?

How happy is the 4th?

How happy is the 4th? My pastor at bible study talked about inner dependence versus inter dependence. Citing the pending holiday, he talked briefly about how people would barbecue and pop fireworks but will not even think about the holiday and its significance. We know that the declaration of independence was signed on this day in 1776. Yet, a lot of people could care less for whatever reason. The militant side to me does not care. When this document was written, Black people were still in the chains of slavery. So it seems odd to celebrate a day of freedom when freedom was not apart my people's lives. So how happy am I on the 4th. I am happy for a plethora of reasons, but the declaration of independence isn't one of them. While Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had to remind the powers that be in his day about the importance of that document in the face of mobbing whites, burning churches and lynching, the "real" dirty south could careless about the rights of Black people. So while others celebrate with flags in the front lawns, families getting together, and laughter, I cannot be mad. The graveyards are filled with freedom fighters who people never met but paid the ultimate price for freedom. The more radical among us will decry this day and I cannot be mad at that. In America, all is not fair. Then again, such is life. What I do know is that either way, I can be but I do not have to be happy about the 4th. So how do I really feel. I bless God for this day. I bless God for allowing me to see another day. I bless God for all the 4ths of my life. Let those who will celebrate, celebrate. Let those who will protest, protest. After all that is the genius of America. We can agree to disagree.