The End

Saturday marked the end of my two-year tenure as a scholar with the Institute for Responsible Citizenship. After many hours of work, class, speakers, mafia and just hanging out, my experience with the Institute is over. Though it was sometimes hard to recognize it, in retrospect, my last two summers have been outstanding and memorable. I’ve learned much from both my internships (though certainly more from the second than the first), I’ve been sharpened intellectually by professors and classmates and I’ve grown close to some exceptional young men. I have not been disappointed in choosing this opportunity for the past two years.

My last week of work was fairly uneventful. In fact, it was kind of a let-down, because we were moving to a new studio right as I was leaving. Honestly, couldn’t we have done that about two weeks before so I could have been there once the move was actually complete? The only part from which I did get to benefit was the new Yamaha C7 that I got to play for a while. That was actually a bigger deal than it may seem, because I had not been able to really play a piano for some two weeks prior (it seemed like ages!). I left the studio with little fanfare, though the owner was very complimentary to me and said that I would be a great sound engineer. I rather appreciated that.

The Institute’s graduation ceremony took place on Friday afternoon. Gillian came to represent the family and it went off without a hitch. I began the program with four other guys, singing the national anthem, and then all the graduates received certificates of completion and I4RC pins. Gifts were presented by the senior class to some folks, and then the small chorus went outside the auditorium to get our pitch for the Negro National Anthem. We waited for a while, and then Mr. Keyes came out and asked for us to come back in, except he really just needed me. I was confused by this, but complied and went back inside. Mr. Keyes then said that he wanted to “give himself a gift” and told them that I was going to do my body percussion routine. I had no idea that I was to do this, yet being the performer I am, I was far from loathe to do it.

The rest of the day was pleasant. I visited Gillian at the Smithsonian and then headed back to campus to pack my things. The rest of the evening consisted of dinner, playing cards and hanging out, and I didn’t get to bed until 5:30 Saturday morning (eek!). At 8:30, I arose to metro to Gillian’s house, where I met her and two of her visiting friends. I was exhausted the whole day, yet still managed to to some sight-seeing, TV watching, grilling and game playing. It was all rather enjoyable.

Sunday morning I woke early yet again to catch a bus headed to New York City. Once I arrived, I met my good friend Jordan (shout-out!) to chill for the day. We wound up spending much of it at Times Square, which is an absolutely outrageous place. The signs are just too much and there are too many people. Still, it was fun to walk around and fall asleep while seeing Wall•E for the second time (I was tired!). That night, I took the N train (I’m finally getting used to the subway system here!) to Shara and James’ apartment, which is where I currently sit.

With the end of the summer also brings the end of my blog posts. It is rewarding to organize one’s thoughts into prose form, yet it is also very time consuming and I don’t feel like doing it much more for now. I appreciate you reading and hope that you’ve been entertained. I’ll be back in Tulsa on August 1, so if that’s where you are then hopefully I’ll see you soon!

Mixed Bag

My time here in DC is winding down, which is both good and bad to me. It’s good because, although I’ve enjoyed my internship very much, I really don’t like having to work strictly from 10 to 6 everyday. I’ll also enjoy having the time and place to be alone for a good while, which is a pleasure I realized that I value highly. It will also be nice to be back in Oklahoma where my network of friends is somewhat more extensive than it is here. Still, I will miss my fellow Institute scholars, with whom I have made as strong friends as I have anywhere. I will also miss the bustle of DC, its various musical offerings and its close proximity to friends and family I don’t see often enough.

My weekend was a mixed bag of great boredom, awe, frustration, laughter and rest. I was frustrated and awed on Friday evening, when I took a two hour and forty-five minute round trip for a forty-five minute dinner but followed it by watching The Dark Knight. I was bored on Saturday morning when an Institute donor took nearly three hours to tell us his life philosophy, a process which needn’t have taken more than half an hour. I laughed so hard the my face and stomach hurt that evening when Gillian and I rented the first season of ‘Flight of the Conchords.’ Finally, I rested until two o’clock this afternoon because the seniors were exempted at the last minute from an Institute event. Now I prepare for the Institute’s last week. Curtain!

New York City, Part I

I know, I know. It yet again took forever for me to write another post. I seem to be losing steam as the summer progresses. The past week and change has been very eventful, indeed. Thursday night was the Institute’s concert, which this year took the form of a fundraiser. Supporters of the program were invited to have some hors d’oeuvres with the scholars, followed by a short program featuring a handful of the musically adept scholars. This year’s concert came together much more quickly than last year’s, which I appreciated. We were all one year better (which in my case particularly helped in accompanying the singers) and the program was shorter. It’s a good thing, because American University decided about a month ago to stop allowing students who were residing at AU without being enrolled to use the music practice rooms. Fortunately, we found a classroom with a piano to use and were only kicked out of it once.

The performance itself went well enough. Our two opening selections were a cappella spiritual/gospel songs that went off rather well. Then I accompanied John Harper, a recent vocal performance graduate of Oberlin Conservatory, on a beautiful aria from a contemporary operatic interpretation of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. I played my newly finished arrangement of ‘Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing’ next, which went off well enough. I faltered a little near the end and overplayed a bit, but I was pleased overall. Alas, it seems that my adrenaline left me after that, so I didn’t play as well as I would have liked for the other three vocalists. Then I did my old body percussion tricks, which were received. We ended with an improvisational song about hope, and it was over. Success!

The next day, the senior scholars headed to New York City for a weekend of fun and merrymaking. The first item on the agenda was a conference called Pipeline, whose purpose it is to pursue solutions in narrowing the achievement gap between young black men and the rest of society. It did not turn out to be as profitable as we scholars had hoped. The event was an overlong affair during which the speakers spent too little time discussing implementable strategies to achieve the conference’s purpose and too much time relating only about their organization. Still, there was free dinner and open bar (for those who were interested) afterwards, so we stayed for a while and enjoyed ourselves.

On Saturday, I went to my very first hip-hop concert. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I had yet to attend one, but there aren’t that many such acts who come through Oklahoma in which I’m interested. It was certainly an experience from which I can learn, if nothing else. I just find the stage mannerisms characteristic of some music genres to be very amusing. In classical music, for instance, the performance is taken so seriously—a soloist walks on and off stage for no apparent reason, the audience must be absolutely silent and the musicians look ticked off at something most of the time.

In hip-hop concerts, the protocol is different. If, as an audience member, you approve of the song and/or performance, you wave your arm in the air and maybe accompany that with some light jumping. Though I’m more of a simple head-nodder myself, I have no problem with the arm and jumping action. What I have a problem with is the emcees (aka MCs, aka mic controllers, aka do some research on rap music) who, when apparently not feeling as much ‘love’ from the crowd as they’d like, give their listeners a directive to put their hands in the air. Let’s get one thing straight here. I, as a listener, do not attend concerts for the sake of the performer (unless I actually know them, of course). I am there to listen to music, not to stoke your ego, so quit telling me to do things that I obviously don’t already feel inclined to do just so that you feel better about a performance that, as far as I am concerned, is really not that good. Many of the artists on Saturday seemed to ask for my respect before they had earned it, and I felt no urge to appease them.

There were a couple other aspects to the festival that more so amused than perturbed me, and my good friend and Institute summer fellow, Chuck, and I were freely able to discuss these as we sat at a picnic table somewhat removed from the main throng. First, there is a curious habit which many emcees seem to have in eliciting an audience response. First though, a preface. Sometimes they’ll say “How you doin’, [insert city of concert here]?’, in which case the crowd yells in response. (I’ve always found that odd. How would you feel if you asked your friend how he was doing and he responded “WOOO YEAH!”? ‘Uh, that doesn’t really answer my question…’) Instead of this semi-sensible question, though, emcees will often ask “Where’s [insert city of concert here] at?” They expect the same response, but I don’t see how that’s a reasonable expectation given the question posed. Where do you think it’s at? It’s exactly where you’re standing.

There’s one more curious habit of note and then I’ll let the issue rest. In introducing KRS-One, a fairly big yet relatively aged emcee, the DJ got the crowd going by hyping up the rapper’s entrance, and then proceeded to say (roughly, though I can’t remember the exact names) “Rest in peace Big L, rest in peace Jam Master Jay.” At this point, Chuck turned to me and said “Wait, since when did that become in introduction?” Seriously, why are you going to pump up the crowd and then bring up the deceased? I don’t disapprove of remembering those we’ve lost, but it seems like an odd time to do so. “Yo, we ‘bout to have the Grammy winner, world renowned emcee and multi-platinum recording artist, Lil’ Gargantuan to the stage right now! Give it up, y’all! Now bow your heads in reverence to our lost brethren.” Enter Lil’ Gargantuan and eyebrow raising.

Well, I must swiftly move through all else that has elapsed, for both my bedtime and the end of your attention span are both rapidly approaching. I enjoyed the rest of my time in New York, during which I rode a boat along the Hudson and took the picture at the beginning of this post (which you probably haven’t seen for a half hour or so). On Monday, the Institute seniors met with General Colin Powell. The visit was shorter than I would have liked—he had to leave for a conference call—but I appreciated it all the same. Alas, Dad, there was no time to tell him that the piano player from Trinidad says hello. Maybe next time. That brings us to the coming week, which is filled with events that the Institute was seemingly saving for the end of the summer. We seniors did not have that many obligations until this week, when I suppose we will be making up for lost time. None of the events seem particularly intriguing, but I’m sure they’ll be at least mildly interesting. I’ll let you know.

Hither and Thither

I must first apologize to you, faithful reader, for failing to update my blog for some week and a half (!). There’s just been so much going on that I haven’t had time for it! The Institute and all activities pertaining thereto have kept me from the usual hour-long writing sessions that bear fruit in my sometimes amusing and often lengthy narratives. So now I must begin the arduous task of attempting to recall all the points of interest that occurred since last Tuesday.

At the forefront of my memory is Gillian’s move into her new residence. A week ago yesterday I met Gillian at the Clarendon metro stop in the late afternoon to commence what would soon become an ordeal of considerable note. She had just called the U-Haul location inquiring on the availability of the truck she reserved, to which the man replied that there was not one available. Gillian then inquired whether a vehicle would be ready when she was scheduled to retrieve it, which was about an hour and a half later. The employee said “No guaranties, ma’am. No guaranties.” Sweet. What a great way to start the move.

It turned out that there was a truck available when we arrived, so we had no need to worry. Once it was in our possession, we drove to Gillian’s storage unit to empty it of its contents. The task was finished a short while later and we proceeded to the house. We decided to unload the large items first (aren’t we smart cookies?), so once the bed frame was upstairs we essayed to bring Gillian’s queen size box springs after it. Alas, this proved difficult. The stair opening would not permit us to carry the box springs through despite many attempts. Even after we were rejuvenated by Papa John’s pizza (Canadian bacon and pineapple. hmmm…), Gillian and I still could not manage to fit the box springs through. We thought all was lost. Gillian would have to sleep on a floor-sitting mattress and waste the use of her box springs. Sadness.

But all was not lost! Upon further investigation of the second floor, Gillian discovered a door leading to a balcony whose of absence of any railing made it just another section of the roof. Victory was ours! Gillian went next door to ask for a ladder and upon returning with one, I hoisted the box springs up to the balcony ledge while Gillian ran upstairs to drag them to safety. Elation filled our hearts as we sang and danced for joy! Oh happy day! The rest of moving was a cinch after that. All the boxes were moved up to Gillian’s room in no time and we prepared to reward ourselves.

The reward came in the form of Pixar’s latest film, Wall•E. I don’t really feel like giving a full review, but I would see it again and think you should for the first time if you have the inclination. The following day Gillian and I continued to pat ourselves on the back for our hard work by watching two soccer matches—the Eurocup final and D.C. United vs. LA Galaxy—and enjoying a fine meal in the company of two of her new roommates and the young lady whose vacancy Gillian filled by moving into the house. We had a grand time on the back porch and I feel good about Gillian’s new living situation. Whew. On to the next topic.

The following week of work passed quickly enough and ushered in a three day weekend! I had a long time friend, Aundrea (next to me in the picture), come visit from Delaware and we had a grand time. The scholars of the Institute or Responsible Citizenship hosted a social mixer called Ascension on Thursday and we met many new people (most of whose names I don’t remember). The other members of the above picture are Brandon and Bryon, members of the Institute, and Amanda, who was lived at Georgetown near us last year. We didn’t do much after Ascension. There was talk of seeing a movie, but time was not on our side and we missed the last showing for the night.

Independence Day, though fun for me, was not the most exciting about which to write. I attended a cookout at a park in Virginia with the rest of the Institute during the day, at which Aundrea and I dominated in Spades and I played poorly in a basketball game. It was Alumni Weekend at the Institute, so many of the former scholars returned to join in festivities. That night, I was too tuckered out from the game and being outside to do much, so we skipped fireworks and just had dinner near American University. A large Mafia game ensued at about eleven and then Aundrea and I dominated some more at Spades until the wee hours of the morning. I’m sorry to disappoint you by not having gone to see fireworks. So it goes.

Saturday was another low key day. All Institute members met with Mr. Keyes, the program’s founder, for a seminar and then enjoyed another cookout with a few board members and special guests of the Institute. Afterwards, I met with a few other Institute brothers to prepare for the program’s fundraiser on Thursday, at which there will be much musicmaking. Fortunately, this making of music came together quickly over the course of the weekend and we will not likely fall flat on our faces. That’s very reassuring.

Within the past few days, I’ve come to realize how much I enjoy being a member of the Institute community. It’s easy for me to say this now that I don’t have to attend class three times a week, but I relish the time spent with brothers from the Institute. Whether we’re playing late night Mafia games, discussing social or moral issues, or sharing YouTube videos, I love the company of the diverse personalities present. I’ll be sorry when I have to leave for the summer, knowing that next year I will not be able to enjoy the fellowship of these young men.