2nd Annual Activism Right There (A.R.T.) Festival, 3.10.09

Host: JENNIFER JOHNS (Oakland)
DJ: K-SALAAM (Minneapolis)$5 youth under 21 and students $10 non-student adults

Tickets will be available soon at the Zellerbach Box Office, or at http://tickets.berkeley.edu/

The event will kick off with a panel discussion by the Third World Liberation Front. TwLF originated in the late 1960's at San Francisco State University (my alma mater!) as a coalition of the Black Students Union, the Latin American Students Organization, the Filipino-American Students Organization, and El Renacimiento, a Mexican-American student organization. Together these organizations led protests, strikes, and sit-ins that eventually lead to the establishment of SFSU's College of Ethnic Studies and expansion of the Black Studies department. This event will celebrate, honor and encourage student activism through art: music, dance, and spoken word.

Performances by: (not full list)

I'm hella looking forward to catching another set by my new obsession 40Love. I caught their performance last night at Milk and was blown away by the powerhouse female emcee Haze. Not only does this fly Miss have style I can relate to (wife beaters and kicks all day, ya'll) but she has a tongue that spits Bambu-style like a machine gun. AND SHE'S FROM THE BAY. I had to bow down. Last weekend I lost out on the Blue Scholars performance (FML!) and I don't wanna miss out on another chance to get lifted! I haven't heard live music since Hopie and Bambu blew the stage out at FatCity, damn..... My body, my mind, and my soul are awake and alert now. I am ready to be rejuvenated by my favorite love: hip hop.

"Nasty" - Janet Jackson // Objectives

Ms. Jackson at her finest. Not only is the song an anthem for all the ladies who know what they want. . . the video is true poetry in motion.

---

I'm not a prude,

I just want some respect

So close the door if you want me to respond

Cause privacy is my middle name

My last name is control

No, my first name ain't baby,

It's Janet... Ms. Jackson if you're nasty

----


When writing a resume one must be specific in naming an objective. It is the first section in your resume (after your contact information) and gives employers an idea of whether or not the position you are applying for is right for you. An effective objective is clear and direct. This is what you expect to gain if hired. I have learned that putting

"To obtain full-time employment in the Criminal Justice field."

is not as effective as:

"To obtain a full-time case management position in a non-profit organization that provides services for low-income citizens."

Yes the first example may get you a job, but the second objective will get you a career. Trust, I have written and rewritten my resume many times. Objectives will change as your experience in the work field grows. With each new job you learn what you are capable of doing and what you refuse to do. Honestly, writing new resumes was always a positive way for me to build self-esteem and the perfect chance to manifest new responsibilites in my life.

In order to successfully manifest your dreams (if that is what you are inclined to do) you must be clear and specific in knowing what you want. So check your vocabulary because sometimes the Universe gets confused.

That being said, I have changed my vocabulary.

"A paycheck" becomes "a living."

"A job" becomes "a career."

"A perfect body" becomes "A healthy body."

"Friends" become "companions."

"A boy" becomes "a man."

Objectives 1 & 2 realized. Objectives 3, 4 & 5 in progress.

Do YOU believe in the power of YES??

Oh. My. God. This is the most entertaining video I have seen in a loooong time. Gotta love those gay men. Thanks for sharing, Lil Buddha.

New dance move: The Fork in the Garbage Disposal!!!!!

Living Hero - Allan Frias

When I first moved to the Bay Area my first dance teacher was Allan Frias, who has now become one of my living heroes. You may remember him from the first season of So You Think You Can Dance, breaking it down as Big Papa. While he didn't win the competition, he made a big impact just by making it on to the show. If you've ever seen him, you'll notice that he is a HUSKY fella. If you've ever seen him dance, you'll notice that his size doesn't stop him from dropping down and breaking a motherfucker off.

After a few years, I was able to begin a work-exchange program at Dance Mission on Tuesday nights and got to watch Allan's Advanced class do their thing. His choreography always amazed me as it is laced with subtle sexuality and powerful eight counts that draw inspiration from West Indian dance forms. While I idolize Allan, it is his Sucker Free, real ass human side that makes me love him all the more. He sweats like a madman when he dances; he sports Warrior's paraphernalia; and he allows little kids to sit in on his classes every once in a while, free of charge. One night as I was sitting in the back room counting the night's revenue the familiar tickle of California herb came floating in from the window. I turned around and there was Allan, sitting on the fire escape smoking a blunt making choreography in his head. How could I not fall in love with the man?? He is such a celebrity to me that every time we run into each other, I gush as if he were Justin Timberlake.

Tonight was the first night I've been to one of Allan's classes in ages and, like always, homeboy spouted some knowledge that reminded me why I love him (and dancing) so much.


-----

"How do you bump your booty? Use your tailbone. The PADOW is all there."

"I don't care how big you are, you can get down on your hands. I'm bigger than all of you motherfuckers, you're all smaller than me and I can fucking do it. You can do it!!"

"Dance is all about confidence. Trust, cause ain't nobody watching you anyway. Do whatever the fuck you do, but do it confidently."

"Open your pussy, it's okay! Dance is sexual. If you can dance, then you can fuck. It's all about being able to catch the rhythm."

Why Become an Escort? // CREAM

"People often ask me why I became an escort. They seemed to think that someone forced me into it, or that I am desperate for money. Many people look down at being an escort as something that is both illegal and immoral, I happen not to agree. A woman should become an escort if she thinks that is what she would like to do.

There are two main reasons girls become escorts. Number one, I think is the money. You can make a great deal of money, you can make a salary that a doctor or lawyer would in as less as 10 hours a week. Sounds like a get rich scheme, its not. The other is free time. Now that you have lots of money, you will have time to spend it, lots and lots of time".


Isabella

--

The other day I told my boy (and future bodyguard) Nicholas that I didn't want to dance for the money.

"No, I just want to perform on stage." Obviously, that was a half truth.

A part of me is hungry for money, as shameful and capitalistic as that may sound. I just think of it in terms of business, not the act of sex or the emotion of lust. When I dance, I would be getting paid for a service that I provide. It would be money earned not given. My money spent the way I decide.


Oh, the dream.

=)

Student First. Performer Second.

"As with any art form, there is so much training one must do before they should EVER even consider being an ambassador of that art form."

-Micaya

Micaya is an old dance instructor of mine from Dance Mission Theater in San Francisco. She taught me that one can NEVER be too old to dance, to always bend my knees, to NEVER act like a diva ("Leave your ego at the door and learn"), and that "the beat is God." I take her words to heart as I continue my journey to the dream.

I also watch these videos to remind myself that I have to be disciplined in my study so that I don't end up looking like these girls....














You know how some people tell you not to touch a knife or a gun until you fully comprehend the power that it holds? I shall not get up on stage until I've got enough power, confidence, and bravada to work it like a boss.

God bless!

New York City. // Pole Dreams

Lift off in a couple of hours.

Nervous, yes, because I'm an East Coast first-timer.

Excited enough to bring 5 pairs of shoes, three of them stilettoes. I gotta knock them Brooklyn boys dead, ya dig? Bring a little West Coast swag.

Prepared to never come back because I fall in love with Big City Lights so easily.

---

Isn't it beautiful? It's not mine, but by the time I hit quarter century, it will be.

For the past year I have been harboring dreams of becoming a stripper. Well, maybe not a stripper . . . shall we say an exotic dancer? A burlesque performer? A champion pole dancer?

Hate on me all you want. My sense of self, while not entirely complete, has progressed from that timid middle school girl that hid behind oversized jackets that covered my frame to a slightly Narcissitic young woman sporting cut-off wife beaters and a pair of killer stilettoes (see above).

I do not sing. I do not rap. I do not play instruments. And I am certainly no model. This I have come to accept over the years. But there is one dream that I am not going to let go unlived. This is my new obsession, my objective: performing on a titanium pole in stripper shoes. Again, hate on me all you want. Let society's stigma of half-naked dancing influence your judgments. I don't give a fuck. This is my dream, not yours. And my dream will not serve to objectify me.

That being said... my next big purchase (after, of course, the canvas art of Mos Def for my apartment) is going to be a removable dance pole and a set of mirrors for my living room walls. Now, I don't plan on making any money off of this dream. (Unless my boy Mac Boo makes it as a rap superstar and hires me to be backgroud eyecandy. Love ya, Boo!) I plan on living my dream in private for the sole purpose of personal self-development. I love to dance. I love to be sexy. I love when people watch me do both. Like I said, narcissitic. Not to say that I'll take my dream to the streets and offer it up to casual passersby or post performances on youtube for all to see. I wouldn't subject innocent bystanders to that. Oh no, this will be the special treat. The icing on my future husband's cupcake. Pa-dow! Some women can bake pies, others hem slacks. I'll be the only wifey on the block who can twirl. I've already got my first song picked out: In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins... that drum rift in the middle of the song is just sessy.

But, more important than whoever my Prince Charming may be... is the fact that when I picture that beautiful pole in the middle of my kitchen... I can't help but laugh. I can't help but think of all the fun that I'll have with it. I can't help but say to myself, "eL, you're fucking awesome." My dream isn't the most practical application of my hard earned money, yes, that much I will admit. But, neither are my tattoos. I'll leave practically to my mother.


Target Date to Live the Dream: March 1, 2009.

Until then...

Working on Saturdays

If the paperwork is done by 9am, you may youtube for the rest of the day. Coffee, bagel, and an air conditioned office? I'm straight.

#1 Rex Navarette- Death of a Manila Folder. Quite possibly my favorite segment ever. "What the fuck was Narding thinking?!"





#2 Courtney & Will- Samba. I. Want. To. Do. This. Give me a dress, a man like Will and I'm all over it. Thrills.

Living the Dream

"You're gonna blog about this tomorrow morning, I bet."



-----
The first thing I see when I walk into to the room is the pole. Red, lifted, inviting. I dance around the idea of jumping on that circular stage, wrapping my legs around the metal pole and doing a private dance. . . but this is a public place. And even though the security guard standing in the back of the room has already given me the thumbs up, I remain grounded. I stay in the audience with the rest of the spectators, sip on my beer and laugh at the life before me. I stopped believing in magic a long time ago, but with a Coke in his hand and a chuckle on his brow, my favorite Magic Trick restores my faith in human connection. These moments remind me that true relationships come from experiencing life. So we tap drinks and wait for the show to start.

"There's a lot of dudes here," he observes.

My eyes sweep the length of the bar and wander up the VIP stairs. Something purple catches my eye. Or was it something shiny? A beautiful ebony woman sitting alone at a table, wearing sunglasses indoors and bobbing her head steadily to the beat. She had no facial expression, but the rhythmic motion of her neck spoke volumes. I point out her beauty to my friend and he teases me, daring me to tell her she's beautiful.

"Or buy her a drink," he says. In an instant I understand what it's like to be a man looking at a woman. It takes a good amount of courage to approach a beautiful stranger. It takes self-confidence to be able to verbalize a thought to someone you barely even know but to whom you are undeniably attracted. It is definitely not so easy for you boys.

"Guys just gravitate toward you," he explains. "You don't even have to get up for someone to come and talk to you. Girl, you've got it easy."

I nod my head even though the situation only happens every once in a blue moon. It is easier for girls because it's not so often that we, as women, feel the need to actively search for a dance partner. All we need to do is get on the dancefloor and the prospects come in droves.

Fast forward half an hour later, San Quinn is on stage and I am sitting up against the wall swaying side to side. This is my first live contact with the artist, he introduces himself as a neighbor from the other side of the hill, "but I got love for Pacifica too." This is the place it all began.

Then San Quinn says the thing that I've been waiting the whole night to hear.

"All right, I know there are some beautiful ladies in the house tonight and I want to invite you all to come up here with me. We're going to have a little showdown. Whoever can break it down the best, I will buy you a drink."

After 5 live shows in the past 3 weeks, I finally got my chance. At first I was hesitant, shy at the idea of getting up on stage. I mean, I wasn't even wearing my dancing shoes! Not to mention the fact that I would be up on stage with women in hootchie freak-um dresses getting paid to shake their asses. I had to collect myself. Did I want to put myself out there like that? Am I that kind of girl to just "break it down" for a free drink? So I ran to my security guard to ask for guidance and without even a second thought, he takes my hand and leads me past the dancefloor and practically throws me onto the stage. I am the first one up. Looking out at the audience below me, I start to feel a rush that I hadn't felt since I was a child. The bright lights and buzz of an almost invisible crowd send electricity up and down my body. I kick off my shoes and throw them to the back of the stage. By this time, I am relieved to find a bevy of women surrounding me, I am no longer the only one.

I find the perfect escape in a white girl wearing a cast. Pointing to her disability, I yell into the crowd, "Homegirl's got a cast on! She should win!" Slowly, as San Quin begins the next song, I inch my way so that the girl with the cast is directly between me and the audience. I am still dancing, no doubt, but this way I feel I cannot be seen. Things are going swimmingly, swaying my hips and making use of my quiet swag, until out of nowhere San Quinn reaches for my hand and pulls me center stage. Fuck, I didn't even think he was looking. But there I am, eye to eye to the Mighty as he's in my face - eight bars dripping from his lips.

Then, here goes the hook followed by the verse and no longer am I worried about what people are thinking cause I got San Quinn at my feet.

"Let me see you just wind it up, wind it up, wind it up... Let it go!!

The way you're moving, cutie, you're cute too

All eyes on you, all men salute you

Rock it if it's positive,

Tonight you're looking confident

I wanna touch, I wanna clutch

Take it as a compliment.

You got that heat girl

You got that fire

You the life of the party girl

I can't deny it."

-Wind It Up, San Quinn

At the end of the song, I snap out of a trance. I revert back to the nerdy Asian girl who just came for the music and rush off stage. I never got my drink from San Quinn but the dance was enough. Holllllllerrr!!

San Quinn live @ the Octopus Lounge 08.29.08

*Gush*

Gentlemen, if you can keep up with me to this song... I'll give you ANYTHING you want.

Busters need not apply.



Prince got the groooooove. =)