kholioli

[kholioli]

Before anybody starts commenting about Azealia or Lauryn, let me say that I've known what self hate looks like long before Banks found bleach cream and bullied 13-year-old girls on Twitter and we all heard Unplugged and the homophobia and illusion that came with it, and yes, they, too, need/needed psychological help. And many of us who have been paying attn have already acknowledged that. And, of course, wish them both a person caring/concerned enough to get them there. And then, let me say also, that this post is about Kanye. And #blackgenius and #solitude while among many and #pressure and #power and #grief and each and every fan/foe + the media debating and deciding your mental state before you take a moment to check in with yourself. This is about #crazy and #arrogant and #off and #attentionseeking and #stupid and #nigga and #notblacknomore and homogenous expectations of existence and #stillstriving when it #allfallsdown and #impact and a lot of us, most of us, not knowing what it looks like/or takes to get to old or new Kanye, or even old or new versions of ourselves. But most of us know lashing out and anger and rage and not having the words for the feelings but speaking them anyways. And #selfsabotage. On wtvr level we live. At least I know them. And. This is my post. And this is my #possibilitymodel. And right now, I don't want to make it about black manhood or femme politics or babying another man child. I know what "am I crazy? They think im crazy. Idk but don't think I am" feels like. I know shame when losing it in front of all the ones you've been holding it together for. Right now, I can only make this all about #Kanye. #northsdad #writing

[kholioli]

#AndSoItGoes #Itsnotjustabeyoncesong -- Hi. My name's khoLi. And for years I've been a liar, a people pleaser, and an all-around victim of a neveerending #desire to be loved. I say this, because not wanting to hurt folks has constantly kept me in hiding, even from myself. So, I might as well stop that. Right now. With you guys. And really, there's not much more of a lesson here other than that previous way of living isn't sustainable. OK, and maybe another lesson: avoiding all disaster is the quickest way to find oneself standing in the middle of ruin. And then maybe: sometimes ruin is necessary for identifying and defining your own resilience. And then: Life is hard. There's no need to make it harder. Just #playnice.

[kholioli]

During our last workout, I was explaining the ways in which #unconditionalove - the experience, understanding, and belief in it - often registers differently for #queerwomen because of the traumas we experience when having to constantly negotiate our being via outsider comfortability in life. This could be with our parents, communities, friends, our own lovers struggling w/their own identities, etc. -- Anyways, @arisaawhite perfectly encapsulates so many experiences of being an #outsider AND a range of #black and #queerdesire in her newest book of #poetry. There's a link to my full #feels on it in my bio if you're interested. -- #writing #arisawhite #yourethemostbeautifulthingthathappened

[kholioli]

Seeing my name and words in print never fails to brighten my day. Knowing that I got to work with @eastbayexpress' @sara.baku (my favorite #editor ... and it's hard for me as an editor to admit that about another editor), and write about the amazing @arisaawhite ... that's just like icing on the literary lover's cake. -- #blessings #drkholi #blackwomenwriters #yourethemostbeautifulthingthathappened #writing

[kholioli]

#MOOD -- #jasminroberts "Black Man, White House"

[kholioli]

There was a time ...

When I wrote poems just to get me through ... until the next time we met. We don't know each other anymore.

[kholioli]

Carter Mathes, Cheryl Wall, Evie Shockley (left to right)

Brent Edwards (unpictured)

This is my dissertation committee. They happen to be three (four if you count Brent) of the most intelligent, most emotionally available and sound, most supportive human beings I’ve ever encountered in the academy.

And I realize, this, and most of my experience at Rutgers University, is an anomaly for young black girls (or women, or however we identify) in the academy. I will personally add that my experience is even more foreign for women in the humanities. I believe this to be especially true of Literatures in English.

When I say my experience, I mean that I was not completely defeated by my decision to loan my brain, my ideas and ingenuity, to an institution never designed for my undeterred success. 

I was able to:

Endure the rigorous bootcamp that is three years of course work, otherwise known as three years of consuming more material than you might ever be able to truly process and understand in any logical or useful manner.

For 7 years, impart knowledge into fledgling undergrads needy of writing and poetry comprehension skills. Somehow without damaging most of them for life. 

Identify a list of entirely too many books (all African American literature, all written between 1750 and 2013) that I studied and created effective discourse around.

Pass a 2-3 hour oral exam on those previously discussed books.

In my own time, and definitely in my own way, complete the dissertation.

With ease, and grace, and damn good reception from my committee, defend said dissertation. 

Graduate (a ceremonious piece of closure many of us forgo) … with a whole host of other doctors … a surprising amount of them being women of color.

I, of course, still have my own drama to work through around the academy. But the point is, I’m on the other side now. And from that side, I can still see that it needs work. I can still see, even from my privileged state of having done it my way (as Frank Sinatra, and then Jay Z might say), that there is so much more work to be done. Period.

And isn’t that the deep dark place from which guilt emerges: a beautiful but painful meeting of skill, and talent, and bitter conviction that you could be, but are not, doing more? 

Isn’t that what makes you look at a picture at 6 am and begin writing a full length blog about nothing and everything at the same time?

Do not leave the arena to the fools.

Words given to me by Toni Cade Bambara via Nikky Finney in a crowded Hampton University auditorium years before I would even enter the academy. 

Words by which, even today, I’m bound. 

Fuck.

Currently, my only plausible and authentic response.

I’ll figure it out though. In (my own) due time.

[kholioli]

all. the. love.

[kholioli]

When you need to go off a bit for the people.

[kholioli]

A man unrequitedly in love will stand outside your home and knock, throw, kick, holler, relentless in pursuit. Foreign to the idea of a space he is unwelcome in. A woman unrequitedly in love will sit. She’s far away from your house. She knows it’s not for her. She will wait, she has gifts prepared if she is ever invited in. She has herself prepared if she’s not.

[kholioli]

Concept: You love me. We aren’t afraid of hurting each other. It’s warm outside and we have a dog. We can be honest and free and play in the river. Things aren’t perfect, but they seem like they are because we’re both finally happy.

[kholioli]

Sometimes life is really very hard. And you're misunderstood. And you misunderstand. And you feel hurt. And alone. And you may worry. But you can also trust. And if you do so, you might get through another day knowing you've shown up, as asked, or as you prefer, in integrity, in your purpose, with clear vision. Even with as difficult as waking was. Even with as difficult as breathing is, when your chest has been this tight for this long. Even with how fear has found its way around each corner you attempt to turn. Even with everything suggesting you might perish, you can know you will not. And you can do a thing, like making it out the house to a #pumpkinpatch party, and find a piece of joy in #sage colored produce, and revel in a small thing, and, in honesty, say "I tried." - #writing

[kholioli]

when it's 1 something am and you're randomly awakened by some sound you still haven't figured out yet.

and then it's 2 something am so you decide, like the old black grandmother you endeavor to be, your old black grandmother, to put the baby (Cholula) back to sleep ... then to stay up and work ... on whatever your hands lead you to.

and it's still 2 something and this morning, like many mornings, your hands just happen to your laptop ... and uniting with your laptop leads to an outpouring of words and action for yourself and your partner in most crimes. and you find yourself doing the diligent work of self and communal care, in action.

and then, just like that, it's 4 something and Krys is now the black grandmother - "Chile turn the devices off" - and that care reminds you of balance, of knowing when to go hard and when to go home, and knowing that both are equally important for survival.

and then it's 6 something and you have a meeting in 3 hours about an independent course curriculum you've designed ... and you're grateful. and that gratitude reminds you that this is what you've worked (so very hard) for ... the very moment that you're in ... however it feels, whatever it comprises.

and then it's 7 something and you force yourself to write a long and cryptic status update, because any lesson that decides it needs to begin at 1 am and end no less than 5 hours later, is one that clearly belongs to the universe - and all its inhabitants.

have it. because --> this is what you've worked (so very hard) for ... the very moment that you're in ... however it feels, whatever it comprises. you're always almost there, and still already in it.

[kholioli]

[kholioli]

No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don’t.

Stephen King, The Stand (via hopedownthedrain)

[kholioli]

here’s to hope.

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)