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My body has been lunchin’ lately—and I don’t know why. The only thing I can think of is that not getting enough sleep. I’m scheduled to go to the doctor on Monday; which I don’t like, but hey… That’s why we have health insurance. Damn sure been some times when I didn’t have it that I wish I did.

Outside of that, I’ve been writing some songs, but still not a lot of poetry. That’s frustrating, but I can’t complain. There was a definite period of time where there was no inspiration to write at all. Right now, this is how the words are choosing to come to me, so this is what I’m going to roll with.

Ummm, I will also be transitioning all of my journals and blogs to a different service, since blogger is discontinuing their FTP blogging. In English, that means that having a blog that looks like the rest of my site and is a page within my site will likely change within the next couple of weeks. Not happy about it, but it is what it is.

I am ready for this weekend. Hope you have a good one world.

Lord Jesus, I have this voice in my heart, but for the life of me, I can’t figure what it’s trying to say. It feels like there’s a scream being muted in me right now. As a result, I’m way more pensive. I wanna figure this out—but I don’t know what “this” is really. I am feeling like parts of me are getting in the way of things. Like I’m stumbling over myself right now. I know clarity is quickly approaching, just want to know all this is about.

On another note, this was a pretty cool weekend, despite my sprinkler dumping a literal puddle in the middle of my office. That killed any Saturday out-and-aboutness that may have occurred. I still got a chance to see fam, watch some sports, connect with a couple of folks and get some business taken care of. Feels like the universe is testing me right now though…I wonder how God would grade my performance. Hmmmm….

Positive of the weekend: I am better learning how to accept the things that I don't like in those I love, and listen to the critiques they may have of me. I will try to curb my inner geek, which may be off-putting to some, although not intended to do so.

Yeah, I’ve been slacking—again. Can’t say I have a good reason. Can’t say I have much to write or recap. I’ve been writing a little here and there. I’ve also admitted to myself that I’m not happy doing this 9---5 grind; to clarify, my status quo answer was that I am “content”. I’m not that. I believe I’m supposed to do more than what it is I’m doing right now. That belief gives me a feeling of discontent and a lack of feeling fulfilled. I think in the end, we all want to do something that matters—to ourselves and to others. I’m grateful for all of my blessings, and should probably say that more, but I do think I need to be pushing for my dreams. None of those dreams had anything to do with working in a cube at 45 years old.

So, I am writing, and I’m more actively trying to structure a way to make things happen. I thin the earlier said admission was vital though, because I didn’t want to seem like I was ungrateful—because I’m not. I also have been struggling with the notion of upholding the family legacy so to speak, and creating my own. But, I think by creating my own, I’d still be upholding and carrying forth the family legacy. Oh, the legacy? Yeah, see—my father’s mother has a doctorate, as does my mother and her older sister. Her baby sister has four masters degrees, and pops has 3.

So, yeah, I could go on about the accomplishments of family, and more importantly, the struggle they endured to position myself and my cousins and siblings to step further up that ladder. I feel like we as a generation haven’t upheld our end of the deal. I want to get a master’s maybe even two, just cause I like learning. But I want to do so on my terms; I feel like a part of me wants to get one right now to be more in line with the family legacy—the cultural one too. But, doing so would likely further entrench me in a system I want out of.

So yeah, not much to write. I’m just trying to figure out how I want to live my life all while handling my existing responsibilities. Oh, and pursuit of something that’s not easily acquired is a frustrating process—man. I hope all is well with you and yours. I will get back to it…just sorting through some things right now.

Oh, yeah, one more thing…I tripped up the metro escalator yesterday—hard!!! Now one you can play off, because I’ve tripped up the escalator before, but always a small one that I could catch myself with on my hands. Now, I didn’t bust my grill or anything, but I jacked my knee up. Fortunately, I didn’t get any muscle tissue or anything like that, just bone (which isn’t as swollen as yesterday). Yesterday was the worst, I don’t know what was going on yesterday, ya’ll. Today feels much better, though.

I write this letter, in hopes that it will somehow find its way into your possession, and that the sincerity of the words contained here within fill your spirit with a renewed sense of purpose.
In short, I come to you with hopes that new life will be infused into one of the nation's most undervalued services--the service of education.
I come to you as a citizen, and a supporter, an endorser of your cause because I too saw the flaws that threatened our youth.
In truth, there are a great many things that are assaulting our defenses, even good senses,
Between two wars, mortgage and banking crises,
One might be tempted to forget our young
But to understand what we do, sometimes we must look back to what we've done
And force ourselves to regularly take stock of what we've lost and won
I come to you as a 30-something college graduate, who has hit the ceiling
Who finds himself reeling from the undertow of an underwater mortgage coupled with the difficulty of securing a better job
And sadly tentative about seeking higher education because the thought of more debt is unsettling,
Especially not knowing whether or not said degree will serve him well
I come to you as a black man, who at times has had difficulty identifying himself as an American
Partly because he hasn't felt accepted as such, partly because he is painfully aware the history that so many wish to forget or outright disavow
I come to you as a former student, who has had his share of bad grades, seldom engaged by the curriculum he was force fed
Having knowledge at such a young age the educational institution was largely dead
Mainly for refusing to renew itself or adapt to the times that were changing around it
But it was higher education where I became better grounded
Yet I'm still astounded that many males in min position aren’t realizing this opportunity/obligation
I come to you as a former high school teacher, who learned what it really meant when his teachers expressed grief and frustration while agreeing with my mother,
"He's so brilliant, but he just doesn't apply himself."
Seeing the same brilliance in many of the students who walked across the threshold of my classroom
Not always afforded the benefit of having a concerned parent with whom to share my frustration
I come to you as an artist and a poet
Who has put his dreams of writing and creating on hold to chase that regular paycheck that barely keeps him afloat
That daring fool with just enough audacity to hope
That his nieces won't be subjected to an outdated system that doesn't care or know how to reach them
That perhaps, somehow, my oldest nephew, as bright as he is
Will find something to be passionate about while he attends school
Yet understanding that the educational system needs to make itself relevant to those it purportedly reaches
Where is the enrichment?
When will we challenge these young minds?
How many more will we allow to drop out because we didn't think to make a standardized technology-based and artistic learning track?
How will we win these young minds, one of our most precious resources, back?
Why don't we teach financial management skills to high school students, when we know so many won't seek higher education?
Why aren't our educators getting a better break, with higher salaries and more benefits?
Don't they deserve more for the service they are rendering--shaping the future of our very country?
I come to you as someone who one day hopes to have children of his own
Who hopes to see them come home, excited with the prospect of learning,
And know that they are learning things that will serve them well
I come to you as an optimist, a skeptic, an idealist, and a realist
One who knows how things should be, but is willing to settle for how things could be in spite of how things are
I come to you as a human being
A mere citizen on this ball of clay professing what he has to say because he believes it needs to be said
And I'm asking you,
"How can we keep setting out youth back, and still expect them to get ahead?"
I speak to you not of myth and men, but of kith and kin
It is my hope
That black history will one day viewed as American history
That schools will teach kids programming languages and managerial skills
That the petty things which separate us can be met and overcome by a revitalized educational system
And maybe we won't find the need for democrats and republicans, just Americans
I understand there are many complexities in the matter I'll never have to address
And I can't pretend to understand your level of stress
But the motto "Yes we can" was our stand
It was our stake in the ground
A moment where we would band together and demand something greater
I believe health care is an important issue, and while I don't agree with every aspect of your reform agenda
I believe it is a battle worth fighting
But, something that goes beyond even all of that
Is our youth
And we owe it to them to give them the best possible chance to succeed by offering the best possible education
As a man who has used his education as a launching pad to attain much of the success you now enjoy, surely you can see the soundness in that sentiment.

Sincerely yours,

H. J. Lee Bennett, III
Poet, Artist, College Graduate, Home Owner, Educator, Student, Uncle, Son, Black man, Human Being, & American Citizen

Standing at the intersection of Vermont & K with my late breakfast in hand, a gentleman waiting for the same walk signal as I notices my bag and speaks:

Guy: You know, when I was growing up in New York, my mother told me that a white paper bag meant a high class sandwich.
Lee : Really? I had no idea. Now I can be bourgeois when it comes to my sandwich bags now.
Guy: There’s a hierarchy to everything. White paper bags, brown paper bags…. When I went to school, she always sent me to school with a white paper bag, too.
Lee : …
The guy kind of speeds up as if he needs to stop pussyfooting and get to getting’ when he abruptly slows down.
Guy: There was no rac—there was nothing racial by that comment.
Lee : (chuckling) You didn’t even have to qualify it.
Guy: Yeah, but there was nothing meant by that, at least not in my mind. Shit, you can’t say anything these days without getting yourself in trouble

…I can’t make this stuff up. Dude really just beat himself up on my behalf for sounding racist, and I wasn’t even offended. Now, writing it down, it kind of has a a little tinge of “WTF”, but I simply took it as friendly banter. His commentary by no means made me want to yell out, “Devil 6-6-6! Hitler has returned, Devil 6-6-6!” Wow, Barack gets in office, and people start openly checking themselves, huh? Wow. I guess this begs the question, have we really just gone way too PC over the last decade and a half?

So, about a month and a half ago, I was walking towards the metro on my way home. Now, in reality, my walk is about 2 ½ city blocks (DC, not New York—I learned there is a decided difference), but because I have to wait on unsynchronized lights (when is DC going to address this), it feels much longer. So anyway, I get to the intersection of Vermont & K, and I’m waiting for the light to cross the street to cut through McPherson Park. Prior to getting to the light however, a dude over to the side decided to start walking in my direction. Immediately, I’m thinking he’s about to ask me for money, but what I got was a soliloquy as he accompanied me through the intersection and through the park. It went something like this.

Stranger: I had to go to the hospital…but I owe all these drug dealers money….and they all want me to pay them, but I don’t have the money…I could ask for $5 dollars, but what is $5 really? I mean it’s something, but it ain’t $50. I mean $50 ain’t much, but it’s enough to pay a bill, but what is $5? That’s not even enough to buy a meal from McDonald’s. Because you gonna wanna buy a coffee and you gon’ need your juice, and your egg McMuffin, and you can’t have that without a hash brown…and you gon’ need another McMuffin because the McMuffin is really tasty and you can’t just have one of dem…and before you know it, that’s more than $6…”

Yeah, maybe not funny to you, but hilarious to me. Especially since due didn’t really finish one thought before starting another, or really take a breath. It was just a constant stream of words all rhythmically balanced. I also left some of the stuff out about the drugs because it’s been a month and a half, and I can’t remember all the details. Something about him not having the money to pay them and they were looking for him, which I guess, led to the McMuffin monologue.