came up with them thugs, grew up in that mud

got my hands covered in blood
to stay above the world
to see a better day
-MOP, "Ride With Us"

tougher than leather. ride or die. stand your ground.

All words and/or phrases that can symbolize a veneer of toughness and sheer power that is unmitigated and solid. Sometimes it seems as though the sun will never shine bright enough to guide us. But what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?

Less than a week after I learned that someone I went to high school with was killed by an IED in Iraq, I find out about that a 20-year-old was gunned down in my old neighborhood.

I haven't engaged much in any debate or discussion about the Iraq "issue" because it is such a web of complications and confusion. I recently attended a very eye-opening opening session of a conference on foreign policy. There, Ruth Wooden, the President of Public Agenda, discussed her organization's Confidence in U.S. Foreign Policy Index (CFPI). It was an amazingly informative presentation about public opinion of foreign policy and how everything can be stripped down to its most empirical elements to maintain non-partisanship. All that is to say, public trust and confidence in the direction this country is going is quite low and it is highly unfortunate that James Craig had to lose his life (along with four others). Ironically, he was station at Fort Carson, which is where I hung out and played ball three years ago during a business trip. Rest In Peace, yo. Your courage and service to this country is not in vain.

To be honest, I think it was back in 2004 when I first heard the war-hood-terrorism analogy. You know, the one where another young black male dies in the streets of inner-city America and it is a crying shame just the same as it is a crying shame to bear witness to the body count that continues to stack from our "interests" abroad. When the DNC came to town, a basketball coach was shot in the head and someone remarked about the disparity between the heavy security presence that rendered downtown a virtual ghost town and the wild cowboys atmosphere that fostered street violence. I think the remark went something along the lines of, "why can't we have no helicopters in the hood to prevent all these shooting instead of after-the-fact."

Indeed, reactionary mind states never truly get you motivated. Band aids simply soothe. They don't heal. Another 14-year-old kid has ruined his life. Another young man from Liberty Hill won't live to see the age of 21. Another corner store became the scene for a yellow tape parade without confetti or cheers. The Felix Pinckney Community Center became the haven in need of a haven yet again. My man Leon says to never apologize for wanting to get out of the hood. Stewardesses tell you to save your self first, right? I remember vividly the afternoon practices on that hidden outdoor court behind the Felix Pinckney. Those suicides and laps around the double court, the endless free throws, and all that damn yelling. It's too bad the safety of that sanctuary is still as tarnished now as it was back then. It's a wonder what'll take you back to a time and place that you forgot was even etched in your memory/history. Life be reminding you of shT when you least expect it, I suppose.