Another solar return…

…today is Malcolm X’s birthday. As I found myself diving into my first formative Malcolm memories [I find myself doing that more and more, as of recently], the memory of a high school assignment entered my mind. When I was in 12th grade, we were given the opportunity to write an academic paper in one of our main subjects. Of course, I chose English lit. and immediately started working on a paper about Muhammad Ali. Growing up, my Baba always praised him not only in regards to his achievements in the world of boxing but also in relation to his [my Baba’s] own development of a sense of pride in his blackness. On Saturdays, Baba would often relax in our salon* and watch re-runs of The A-Team or documentaries on the animal kingdom or outer space, while drinking his warm shai** [which smelled like heaven, btw] and eating qolo*** and chickpeas, his favorite snack. We would often join him, and I was bombarding him with many questions. One time, we were watching an episode of The Fresh Prince, a show that my whole family enjoyed - mind you, we consisted of Baby Boomers, Gen X, and Millenials - adults, teenagers, and children. Not an easy target audience to pull in front of the TV as a unit. But back to the topic. In one particular scene, Will is shown impersonating Muhammad Ali. 

In my child mind, I have heard of him, but couldn’t grasp the immense footprint he was leaving on this earth. I asked Baba, “why is he considered the Greatest?” My dad’s reaction is so memorable to me because he looked a bit shocked, appalled even. I think Baba is a great story-teller, he just pulls you into his imagination when he waxes poetic about his favorite heroes from his youth. He colorfully described Ali‘s biggest successes, his political activism, and dived into the fashion in which Ali beautifully and sonically predicted wins against his opponents in the most poetic of ways. Ali is one of rap‘s pioneers. When Baba speaks about Ali, his eyes light up and ignite a fire that sparks over to his audience. 

Suddenly, I was mesmerized by Ali. The spell lasts on to his day: I love that he was not invested in what certain people thought of him; it is as if he was on a constant collision course with white America by being himself and speaking his mind. I also love that Ali never chose to make himself smaller, he took up space in a world that wanted to keep him confined to certain locations within its own dogmatic conception of society. To me, his braggadocio not only symbolizes the decision to free yourself of limitations set by society for you - a black person - but also to be emboldened, strengthened, and nurtured by your own imagination. 

And I believe that part of this unshakable belief in determination of self is rooted in Malcolm’s immense polarizing and uniting influence on his peers and zeitgeist.

This is why he is so deeply ingrained in my memory.

*salon = Tigrinya/Italian for living-room

**shai = Tigrinya for black tea, which in Northeast Africa, is heavily spiced 

***qolo = Eritrean/Ethiopian Snack made from roasted barley, chickpeas, and peanuts.

Stay gold my G’s - “…by any means necessary,”

Feven 

P.S.: Fast habe ich vergessen, dem Post etwas Musik zu verpassen. Empfehle euch, beim Lesen “Black Heroes” von Bobby Hutcherson ft. Harold Land zu hören. Es handelt sich um einem Hard bop Track vom Album “Now!” [erschienen am 03. Oktober 1969 und somit ist die LP eine Waage, shout out libra gang gang gang]. Auf dem Track hört man, wie Hutcherson’s meanes Vibraphon-Game auf die Stimme von Gene McDaniels und einen Chor trifft. Die LP erschien ca. eineinhalb Jahre nach der Ermordung Martin Luther King Jr.’s und ca. fast fünf Jahre nach der von Malcolm X und fängt meiner Meinung nach die Attitüden und Reaktionen vieler Menschen auf das Leben/den Tod von Personen wie MLK, X und/oder Garvey ein.

P.P.S.: I’m sorry, English speakers. I just happened to write the edit in German - but please, enjoy yourself and listen to the Hutcherson track I have linked above :).