Wednesday, September 08, 2004

4:26AM – Wednesday Sept. 8

So, I can’t sleep. I couldn’t say why for sure. I have an interview later today at noon for a job that reads in its set-up and descroption very much like Urban Word, except it’s called Urban Dove. It attempts to offer children of diverse backgrounds a more enriched educational experience through peer mentoring in sports and academics and life-skills. I would be a part-time mentor co-ordinator.

I’m somewhat excited about this opportunity, but not for all the usual reasons. I NEED a job right now. I don’t really want one; and many might wonder how that makes me different from the average person getting up every morning and headed to work. I haven’t needed a job outside of the world of poetry for quite a while now. I’ve freelanced on occasion to make ends meet, but no real job and therefore, no real interview. I feel like I’m entering a completely new world. I haven’t held a traditional job since 1999 and mostly, I’m needing this job because I now live with someone and therefore my responsibility supercedes the affairs of my finances alone. On the one hand, this is some weird sort of signal. On the other, I’m applying for a job I think I could really like, really be passionate about. On the third hand (yeah, the thrd hand) I’m a little scared about how this will shake up my writing. I don’t imagine for a second that I’ll stop, but know the scheduling will have to be more precise and I won’t be able to let it come to me as much as I have in the past year. Certainl, I’ve gone after it and pursued it and sat down and wrestled with poems, but I haven’t had to (on a consistent basis anyway) sit down at a pre-appointed time and get the writing done. I’ll have to do this now. Of course all this gnashing of teetch and general wailing pre-supposes I’ll get this job, or any job. I feel woefully wok-force unready; so last night Salome grilled me in the possible questions I could be asked, the questions I should ask in return, and the things to consider (since she worked for a long time in a similar non-profit job).

Meanwhile of course, my show comes up on Saturday and I guess having a good interview will be one of the many ways I can give myself good impetus for a good show on the weekend.

On Monday past, I went to the Labor Day Parade. It has got so absolutely lame, that not even the half bottle of rm I had could make it better. In the name of making the parade more orderly (who ever heard of orderly Carnival celebrations – cuz THAT’s what this parade is supposed to be mimicking), Giuliani has sent more cops into the streets, prohibited folks from being able to party with the revelers and prohibited the sale of alcohol along the route. When I first moved here in 1987 (yes, 1987), Eastern Parkway was awash with life and color and at least a sincere hankering after the spirit of carnival back home that inspired the parade here. Revelers took to the side streets, had a good time and thee was no more violence (ratio of revelers considered) than any other parade in the city. Can anyone imagine St. Patrick’s Day being clamped down on? Can anyone imagine THOSE revelers being denied alcohol? Why specifically is it the folks of color whose parades have to be hyper-policed all of a sudden? And what is the relationship between the rise in violence in crowd situations and the numbers of police involved? I’d love someone to do an independent study on that, because I might be crazy, but I think all crowd activity considered, it appears to me less heads get busted overall, the less police you get involved.

But this speaks to a greater trend in the country as a whole. 9-11 has brought home this to us in more stark terms; but we do live in a police state; and for some the “policeness” of the state is more than for others. Try to gather as people of color (and more recently people of the left) and your sense of being part of a police state will be more acute than if you gathered as part of say, the Columbus Day parade (but then again, half the police are IN that parade – nevermind).

It’s almost five. it’s began to rain. I can tell only because of the sound of the cars sloshing through the wet outside; brakes straining for purchase, so that now I can hear the pounding on the window sill. I hear tell of the wonders falling rain does for one’s ability to sleep and besides, I have an interview in the morning. I should try my best not to have bags under my eyes.

Word! – Later…


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