All Eyez on Me: Managing My Anxiety

Prayer has gotten me through a lot in life. Like a lot a lot. From major life decisions to family health scares to finding a parking space, prayer has been my weapon of choice. I wholeheartedly believe in it, in fact, I believe some spirits only respond to prayer and fasting. (Mark 9:14-29) But what about everything else? What about all the other spirits? What about the dark web of the mind? I've grown convinced that prayer alone is not the only tactic I have against a world that is, pardon the expression... crazy. Below I outline the things I partner with prayer in my own inward journey with anxiety. 

Wise Counsel

I was prompted to go to counseling by my wife Ashley after having struggles with anxiety. Full disclosure, Ashley is a licensed therapist, so her recommendation was expected. I present as confident and competent but I also carry an unreal amount of self-judgment that she saw up close. As a black person in America, there's an added propensity for anxiety (Williams, 2012). I also didn't grow up with many examples of people saying they were anxious - in truth, it sounded like a word white people used. Feeling nervous, overwhelmed, or doubtful were either ignored or seen as signs of weakness.

My therapeutic work has been to combat these various voices and replace them with realistic messages of my capacity and humanity. Therapy has helped me regulate these feelings and have a consistent outlet for my anxiety, fears, and hopes. Since I've started going, I also feel more capable of wading through life's changes. Check out this proverb - Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counsellors they are established. I've learned that counseling steadies me in a world with increasing demands and scrutiny. 

Creating, Creating, Creating

Writing and playing music re-energizes me. I noticed that this fall, I have not played bass guitar at all or written as much for my own pleasure as I have for work/school/church. You've probably noticed. I haven't blogged about James Cone's new book (amazing), Lil Wayne's Carter V (worth the wait), the "Purplish" episode of Blackish (classic),or the midterm elections (meh). This is usually a sign that my energies are devoted outward instead of inward. 

There is the practical concern of time but also the more insidious fear of judgment that emerges when creating. Work, school, and ministry can feel like incessant critique; How will it be received? Is it properly sourced and vetted? Is it a valuable contribution to the field? Being free to create means I don't have to be overly concerned with these questions. That said, blogging is a useful measure of my self reflection. When I see I have not blogged in a while (not even drafted things to write), I know I need to release some creative tension. Ultimately, I want to be more familiar with JAG than APA.  I'm learning to give energy to the things that give me energy. 
 
That said, I'm about to go play the piano.  Brb...

… Ok, I'm back. That felt good.


A Good Cuss Word

Finally, those close to me know I have become more comfortable cussing. This is a complex topic for some religious communities. Of course, there is a time and a place for everything. Most people who meet me won't hear me cuss because that's not called for in most of my interactions. However, I believe there are emotional spikes in life that only certain language can capture. Check out this awesome article by Dr. Donyelle McCray, "Sweating, Spitting, and Cursing: Intimations of the Sacred". In her words, "When a preacher [person] resists the urge to self-censor, a curious thing can happen. A curse word can actually function as a husk for the sacred." (McCray, 2015)

I heard Issa Rae say it well in an interview - Cussing punctuates my speech. A good cuss word can be cathartic, the orienting antidote to a world on fire. A firm slap in the face of grief and loss. The exclamation point to an unspeakable joy. I'm finding that a good cuss word can ease my troubled mind. Not ironically, Hip hop reigns supreme as the musical genre that uses the most profanity. This only amplifies my appreciation for the music. And explains why the background refrains in Chance the Rapper's "I Might Need Security" have been especially helpful for my anger (explicit language warning). 

 
 

Recently, I left a therapy session excited. The time was filled with advice, honesty, and challenge. I reflected and thought about my quest in managing my inner mayhem. Since going, I have been able to share poetry and my counselor and I do a lot of cussing together.  Counseling, creativity, and cussing have become important tools in managing my anxiety (and it's alliterative, so you know it works). I'm also grateful to know I'm not alone on this journey - Monica Coleman's Bipolar Faith: A Black Woman's Journey with Depression and Faith and Charlamagne tha God's Shook Ones: Anxiety Playing Tricks on Me are useful traveling companions. I pray you find the people and tools you need to help you too. Look at me - praying again.  

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McCray, Donyelle. (2015). Sweating, Spitting, and Cursing:  Intimations of the Sacred. Practical Matters 8 (2015).

Williams, M. T., Chapman, L. K., Wong, J., & Turkheimer, E. (2012). The role of ethnic identity in symptoms of anxiety and depression in African Americans. Psychiatry research, 199(1), 31-6.

The PhDecision: 8 Important Questions I Asked Before Going Back to School

This week, NBA players including Lebron James, Paul George, and Boogie Cousins made franchise altering decisions on the teams they would join. Recently I made a major decision about my own future and enrolled in a PhD program at North Carolina State University. Although my choice may not have the reach of theirs (sadly, there's no Cole Haan shoe deal for doc students), it certainly came with it’s own set of lifestyle consequences, family considerations, and salary cap implications. I wanted to share some of my reasoning and anxieties about going back to school in the hopes it may help someone else who is considering where they might take their talents.



Should I go back to school? While this feels like the most obvious quandary, it is really a Russian doll (pictured), a big question full of little questions. This is NOT the most important question.

 

In making this decision, it is crucial to make a distinction between learning and formal education. Learning is a lifelong enterprise. Learning comes with being a disciple and a student. I always want to be learning, questioning, examining the world around me. However, there are training programs, apprenticeships, volunteer opportunities, and even YouTube, where one can learn without oppressive financial and emotional debt. Formal education is not an altruistic endeavor or just for fun. Formal education is big business and at an average cost of between $11,000-$50,000+/year, it is a business decision. So I had to ask myself the little, big questions:

    1.   Does this degree give me the credentials, knowledge, or expertise to excel in my desired field?

    2.   Is this degree going to pay for itself - either by being free, reduced, or raising my earning potential to comfortably cover any incurred debt?

I was able to answer these satisfactorily but the booming, distracting question still remained - Should I go back to school? After reminding myself that this was NOT the real question (and becoming bleary-eyed staring at tuition tables), I remembered Howard McClusky's theory. In 1959, McClusky revealed his Power Load Margin theory which says, in sum, adults have to measure their own load (demands placed on them) and power (factors that they have to sustain the load) when deciding what educational goals they can manage. This theory lifted another set of questions for consideration:

    3.   Do I have the emotional, spiritual, physical support I need to complete this program?
    4.   Should I consider part time, full time, or distance learning?
    5.   Are there people around me who will keep me accountable and give me relief?
    6.   Are there things in my life I can reduce so my load is more manageable?
    7.   Does this program/school have a reputation for helping students manage their load?
 
Empowered with these practical answers, I was almost ready to apply. I am blessed to have a strong support system and as unpredictable as life is, I thought this may be the ideal time to do this degree. Yet, something was still gnawing at my spirit. Another existential, personal, and private question continued to whisper to me. When I sat quiet long enough, I heard it:


    8.   Does this degree define me?

 

I would be lying to say there is no ego involved in pursuing a doctorate. I needed to examine this tendency in myself so I retreated on a personal jet to the Caribbean. No, that was Lebron. Instead, I talked with friends who had done doctoral work about their experiences. One told me she had seen some of the most brilliant, competent, incredible people she knew become insecure shells of themselves due to their doctoral work. Another, who completed her PhD after much duress stated she will never judge anyone who does not complete the process because of the soul damage it can inflict. Others stated various tales of hardship and success.

Their words were sobering and liberating. These were people I revered and they had often struggled, sometimes given up, and sometimes overcame. They helped me answer this last question definitively. Does this degree define me? Hell no. Like Lebron's decision to play for LA, I was great before I came and I will be great when I leave. I do not need a degree to validate my greatness (sometimes I think a degree can obscure it).

I hope this is helpful to all sitting with your own questions. There were other signs and stories in my decision, but answering these questions was critical. This degree is feasible and practically possible, but not definitive. Even if I don't go to college, I deserve to be on the court. Ah yeah, that's right. Give me my jersey and the ball. God be with me, I'm ready.
 

My 6 Cents: Thoughts on 'This Is America' I Haven't Seen Anywhere Else

This week, Childish Gambino/Donald Glover gave us a cultural touchstone, the music video “This is America”. It has been viewed over 65 million times (update: as of 05/14/18, the song has over 109 million views and just became the number one song in America!). It depicts violence, joy, riots, dance, apathy, and much more. I believe the video is part of a deleted scene from Black Panther - it’s what Killmonger showed W'kabi to convince him to help him liberate black people. I’ve been scouring the web, reading and watching the various layers and perspectives. (The link will take you to a Google search for 'This Is America reviews'). That said, there were some thoughts that I didn't see so I’ll add my voice to the chorus. Below are six more insights I haven’t seen anywhere else.

1. Completely indoors - Some have reported that Americans are the first indoor species. According to one author, we live 93% of our existence indoors. In urban environments, this is even more pronounced, as people only go outside to travel from one building to the next.

2. Absence of elderly people - Maybe they been forgotten, killed, because they cannot run, dance, or contribute to the building of the empire? There is no elder who can be a place of memory, perspective, or wisdom. This too, is America - ignoring our elders.

3. Emanuel 9 + 1 - The gospel choir has been compared to the nine Charleston AME murders. However, there is one extra person . This “+1” hearkens to the biblical story of the three Hebrew boys in the fiery furnace in Daniel 3. When they were thrown in Jesus was with them. In America, the Black Jesus/spirituality is being shot at too.

4. Production value - Everyone who contributed to this deserves celebration; the cinematography, shot selection, choreography, historians, producers, and everyone in between. The music is crazy. When the track plays James Brown as the last adlib, the video reaches peak blackness for me. I audibly shouted during rewatches as the “Say it Loud” singer screams “Get down!” before Childish Gambino tosses his joint and 'gets down' in the tradition of Brown, Jackie Wilson, and Michael Jackson. Euphoric and cathartic. The hair styling of SZA as lady liberty, the training of the horse to run across the shot, the combination of artificial and natural light; this video can be appreciated as complex and excellent art.

5. Blackness as uncapturable - Outside of hitting that joint, Childish Gambino and the camera never stop moving. Blackness is always elusive, always running from the grasp of white rule (sometime so much that it is exhausting). It cannot be captured and is always exceeding its descriptions. To control/police blackness is to attempt to shackle the wind. Thank you Mother Maya.

6. Hazard lights on the cars - At the end of the video, the cars all have their hazard lights turned on. This video is a warning. Of what? One common read is that it’s a warning to not get distracted. That said, I wonder how this video can become a distraction from the work of freedom? I fear that if we spend too long analyzing, rather than using it as fuel, we can be recreating the sensation-chasing dynamic it warns us against. That said...

I'm outta here. Thanks Childish Gambino and all for this masterpiece. The work continues...

Deez Nutz: The Anniversary

At first, I was afraid, I was petrified…
thinking I could never live without you by my side.

On January 06, 2017, I got a vasectomy.
(If this level of sharing is too much for you, you may want to back out of this page now.)


For better or worse, whenever I have to make a major decision, I instinctively Google the topic. Before I made the decision to have my male parts partitioned, I searched for vasectomy reviews, posts, and blogs. I didn’t find any from black men. I know, biologically, men are 99.9% the same, so a procedure on non-black nutz would be the same as one on black nutz, but I needed to hear from some brothers. This was not an All Nutz Matter moment. I needed to know, are black people actually doing this or is this like hummus (a good idea, but something black people are just not feeling)? This post is for black men out there (and those who love us) who are hoping someone would open up about being opened up. Below are some of my reflections on the process.

Eugenics vs. Ego
As I said, I was extremely hesitant about it all. Eugenics, the horrid history of genetic determination and population control imposed on marginalized groups, worried me. African-Americans and other groups have been targets for attempts at "perfecting" the American genetic makeup. Like James Baldwin wrote (and Jay-Z repeated recently at the start of the "Family Feud" video), "The [dispossessed] of the earth do not become extinct; they resolve, on the contrary, to multiply; life is their weapon against life. Life is all that they have." I didn't want to give up my weapon! (Baldwin's words, not mine) Even more, my ego was under attack. What would it say about my manhood if my semen could no longer make babies? Was I still a man? I know, biology and gender identity are not the same, but I still felt I was giving up a defining part of my masculinity at the relatively young age of 34. Many men (and particularly this man) have fragile egos. Will I lose my sex drive? My powers and abilities? Can people tell by looking at me? Being honest yall, this is how I was thinking.

The deciding factor for me was my wife Ashley. She has an auto-immune condition that flared up when each of our two children were born. She became so weak she could not lift our children, had prolonged double vision and struggled to speak and swallow. She also did not need to endure another surgery or medication. That raised the stakes for me. However, even beyond her medical condition, as a woman, Ashley had carried, birthed, and nursed our children. She had physically endured enough. In a true partnership, both people sacrifice. Was I willing to give something physically? I resolved that sterilization would be my responsibility.

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart

Pro-creation vs. Recreation

Now that my wife and I were on board, I decided to move forward. But not before I dared to reveal my plans to some other black men. Many of them shocked me by saying they’d had or were considering a vasectomy too. I found that I wasn’t doing anything taboo at all, I was just taking a step to transform sex from a matter of pro-creation to one of recreation. This was liberating! I was not out of the fraternity of Scrotum Phi Scrotum and my wife and I could have baby-making sex with no baby-making! After a year of reflecting, researching, and talking, I was sold.

The Quick and Dirty

There was little prep work. I had to shave the area a little, bring tight underwear, and show up to the appointment with someone to drive me home (Ashley). The process itself, was painful, but brief. I lied back on a table naked from the waste down and legs open. The doctor placed local anesthesia on the area and then prepared me for a moment of pressure. They warned me by saying it will feel like being kicked in the nutz. (One of the worst pains a man can feel.) When they snipped the first scrotum, I bit down hard. That hurt! They knew I was a chaplain and minister and so I asked politely, “Do you all mind if I cuss?” The nurse, who had likely seen many men react this way, said “Not at all”. “Sh**!” I said immediately. Whew, that felt better. They sealed it up with a laser and then moved to the next one. Anasesthia and then *snip*, another kick in the groin followed by a louder, more guttural, f-bomb (the nurse and doctor looked at me in awe – I didn’t care. Pain is not a time for political correctness, ask Jesus.) The feeling was not piercing or stinging, but a dull pressure that diminished over minutes. The whole procedure took about 10-15 minutes.

The recovery was brief too. I had it done on a Friday and was back at work Monday. I had to wear tight underwear and put ice on the area for the weekend, but it got better soon. One perk is that in order to get out all of the active sperm, the doctor encouraged lots of sexual intercourse afterward. It’s the best homework ever! After a couple months, and a sample to see if there were any active sperm left, I was done.

Oh no, not I, I will survive
Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive
I've got all my life to live
And I've got all my love to give and I'll survive
I will survive
I will survive

A year later and there have been no surprises or complications. Ashley has not had to carry all of the physical or psychological responsibility of family planning. And I still have bass in my voice (I know, another crazy fear I had beforehand). I hope this helps someone who is considering the procedure. Any man that’s been kicked in the balls can have a vasectomy. Trust me, you’ll survive.