Posts By Jason Luckett

Mulatto Beverage…

My friend has a “Black, Like My President” mug.

From it, she drinks tea with milk.

Mixed Roots is Saturday…

Mixed Roots Festival 2010!

Talk about your mulatto moments! The Mixed Roots festival is a place you can do that and have people nod, laugh, and hug you in recognition. There may still be some furrowed brows, but it’s a safe house.   Your friendly blogger is reading excerpts of his piece from “The Black Body” there.   Sharing the mic with me in Readings Program 1 is Tai Babilonia, Carleen Brice, Kevin Mihn Allen, and Kerina C. Pharr.

Don’t miss this festival. It’s centered around the largest “Loving Day” celebration on the west coast!

Lastest Mulatto Events

I read last night for Susan Hayden’s Library Girl series in Santa Monica.   Beautiful time, though my piece scared me.   I had a couple safe ones in my back pocket.   But luckily she asked me to sing a song to start the night.   With that, I figured I could engender some good will before getting into the nakedness of a new body centered essay.   This one was more gender oriented than about race.   But the interesting thing to explore is that like women, people of color – and perhaps especially people of ambiguous racial phenotypes – are consistently the subject of physical scrutiny.     Body discussions are always difficult, but exploring sexuality, acutely aware of the male power dynamic, is one of the toughest areas for me.   (I typically throw in a couple references to lighten up the subject, but you’ll have to read my published work or come to a performance to know exactly what I mean.   I’m feeling reserved in my online presence.)   The piece seemed to go down well, which pleased me.   And connecting with old friend, Dan Navarro, and new friend, Julie Christensen, was a truly grounding experience.

I’ve got a couple more readings for my essay from the Black Body coming up in June.   June 12 I’ll be featured at the Mixed Roots Film and Literary Festival.   Last year I got to close the festival musically.   This year I wanted to try something different, so I applied as a writer.   And on June 23rd, I’m going to be part of the prestigious [ALOUD] series at the Central Library downtown.

Skip Gates’ New TV Series

…and the “baddest genealogy story I’ve ever heard….”

This one cracked me up. I haven’t been paying as much attention to Henry Louis Gates as I might’ve before. But he’s kind of reminding me a bit of Michael Steel with his colloquialisms.

“No matter what laws of segregation, the one thing that DNA shows is that when lights came down, we were all getting down,” Gates said. “We are all mulattos.”

I laughed my mulatto ass off to that one. Yeah, “We’re all mixed.” I’ve heard that a few times. Too bad the mulatto cop that arrested him couldn’t recognize his mulatto brother last year, or vice versa. I know he was trying to be humorous. I appreciate that. I giggled. It’s true, too (that no blood is pure). But it still kind of irked me – just a little bit.,0,1477516.story

Dyson on Hulu

As in most things media, the headline – “Where’s the Racial Progress Obama Promised?” – distorts the facts. I may be a curmudgeon and think things aren’t great , but when you’re quoting poll numbers that show an increase in the positive numbers, why frame it as a problem? And this is from Liberal friendly MSNBC. Interesting discussion with Michael Eric Dyson, though.

First MLK Day after BHO

“A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.”
— Martin Luther King, Jr. 1967 from “Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?”

Chaos, Community or Solitude?

On the first MLK Day since Barack Obama’s inauguration, I chose solitude to ponder where we’ve been in this year.

It’s a year later, the first Martin Luther King holiday since America elected it’s first “black” president.   It’s funny, I was going to write the first president of African-American descent, but then I thought, that’s not exactly true.   He is the first black president of the USA and he’s clearly a “hyphenate” of African and American descent.   But he’s not the descendant of American slaves, the people Martin was trying contemporaneously to lift up.   He’s the son of an African culture inspired by Martin Luther King, Jr., like Nelson Mandela and others.   It will truly be something when a dark brown descendant of southern slaves will claim that office as well as the audacity to run as the president for all Americans, while speaking in his true voice.  (I’m thinking in negative comparison of a poseur like Michael Steele who uses ghetto-isms to show he and the Republican Party are down with black “folks.”)   Jesse ran with good ideas but was marginalized because he never truly seemed to speak convincingly as a candidate for all citizens.   Al Sharpton had some good ideas, as well, but also seemed too marginalized by his past and present presentation.   Shirley Chilsolm is the only candidate pre-Obama that really seemed to have an all inclusive progressive agenda.   I watched a great documentary on her a few years ago called Chisholm ’72: Unbought & Unbossed, and I would’ve voted for her had I been old enough — though, ironically, I do remember seeing her as a kid and thinking how odd it was that there was this black woman, skinnier than my grandma running for president.   I was a McGovern kid in my 6-year-old wisdom!

Anyway, what do we have in terms of mulatto moments after a year of Obama?

Obama may not be the descendant of slaves, but he’s certainly suffered the attempts at dehumanization that come from its legacy.   What would’ve been the fall out if George W. Bush had said the police acted stupidly in arresting William F. Buckley inside his vacation home in Zimbabwe because they’d heard reports of a break-in in the black part of town?   (He was alive during the Bush years.)   The whole “Birther” thing was just another old farce to delegitimize the rights of a black man.   If Henry Kissinger’s son were born to a white American mother in Hawaii and wrote a book about it twelve years before he ran for President, where he copped to going to a Muslim school, using drugs and living with an illegal alien, would his honesty have been questioned with regards to his birthplace.   I don’t know about the “Tea-Baggers.”   They seem to overlap with the Birthers, but Americans have always had issues with taxation.   The problem is that people whom healthcare is supposed to help are the ones screaming so loudly about their tax dollars being used to help others.   The Boston Tea Party was about taxation without representation.   The Tea Partiers have representation.   There’s a legitimate gripe that “Elites” have more representation, but that’s no more the case with the Democrats than the Republicans.   But the vitriol is much stronger against this Administration, which arguably represents the poor more than the last one did.   When anger and distrust of the elites was brought up then, it was combated by saying the aggrieved were un-patriotic, or worse.   Now maybe I’m calling the angry ones racist spoilsports.   Maybe that’s a similar accusation.   It’s been said Democrats are always subject to more vitriol from the “heartlanders.”   But isn’t that also true that the Dems are always considered the party of minorities and women?

More than one friend of mine has remarked that it felt like we were post racial for about a day after the election, then it was back to business as usual.   For me it was that moment walking into the bank coming home from Vegas after canvassing on Election Day.   My teller was a young black man and I just felt so good for him.   I know that’s weird and entirely racial, but it was an exhale that said all opportunities are open to him.   I walked around that day thinking that no one questioned my legitimacy as an American.   The answer to the question, “What’s your nationality?” would be simple.   “American, just like the President.”   It’s sad that I carry around that sensitivity that people will try to delegitimize my status as part of the American community, but if you’ve been asked the question, “What are you?” in addition to “What’s your nationality?” thousands of times before you’ve reached the age of consent, you’re bound to feel suspected of “otherness.”   Sadly, a year after we have the first “black” President and after a year of the sort of racial flare ups we’ve seen, my guard feels up at just about the same level.

Irony or Illustration?

( Jewel Samad / AFP / Getty Images / December 10, 2009 ) President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama greet the torch parade from the balcony of the Grand Hotel in Oslo, the Norwegian capital, where he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize.
( Jewel Samad / AFP / Getty Images / December 10, 2009 )
President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama greet the torch parade from the balcony of the Grand Hotel in Oslo, the Norwegian capital, where he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize.

Obama’s Oslo speech was articulate and persuasive in many ways, though I still don’t feel like sending 30,000 more Americans into Afghanistan to put an end to the powers of 100 individuals within its borders is a great idea.

I thought this photo underscored the tension between peaceful idealism and violent reality highlighted in his speech.

Why Barack?

I think I’m depressed.  I find myself longing for a time when the Vice President actually controlled the President.

Why Tiger?

It’s a weird moment for race in the media.  One day I put a picture of Tiger Woods and his wife up on this site to refute the reasonings of an idiotic Louisiana justice that refused to marry an interracial couple. Then he’s everywhere suspected of infidelity and believed to have been attacked by his wife.


A few weeks ago I was groaning when I saw the trailer for The Blind Side, thinking, “C’mon, really? Another film where whites become saviors to a poor black person? Hasn’t this time passed?” Then I read yesterday that it’s taking off in, what I’m sure I’m unfairly calling,  Palin Country.  (Yes, I’m getting cantankerous, and, no, I haven’t seen the film.  It may be wonderful, but the trailer really pushed my buttons and the media coverage hasn’t helped.  This is a critique of the media and marketing, with a jaundiced eye looking at those buying the campaign not the film.)

Then there’s, Precious.  It sounds like a very interesting film, which I am compelled to see.  But the LA Times commentary intrigues me.

Is all this comfort food to a nation annoyed by our President?

Yes, I feel like I’m back in my college course, The Irritated Black Man, 101.

What do you think?


Naked Dream Revised

I dreamt last night that I arrived for a meeting and realized I hadn’t washed my hair before I left the house.   OK, I will head out in a disheveled manner fairly often in real life.   But in my dream it felt like being naked in grade school.   That’s got to be a “mulatto moment.”

Good Morning

Interesting NPR Story on Perception of Skin Color

You can check it out here.     The gist is that people who voted for Obama tended to think of him as lighter, those who didn’t tended to think of him as darker.   This correlated to political ideology to a good degree, but the correlation was even tighter along the lines of the reported perception of his skin tone determined by altered photographs which the respondent deemed most representative.   It’s fascinating.

But is it surprising?

What do you think?

(I hope to write on this more, but it’s bedtime in LA!)

The Black Body Release Party and Readings

The Black Body - Seven Stories Press 2009The Black Body Anthology   is coming out on the 1st!   I’m one of 30 essayists included and it’s pretty great company!   Check it out on Amazon or the Publisher’s website.   But you can truly find it everywhere, I think.   Also come to the reading on the 10th @ Skylight Books, if you can.   All the info is listed on my gig page.

As the President visits the state, concern for the children…

This is a big wow!!

Interracial Couple Denied Marriage License In La.

And I bet their kids will be fine...

And I bet their kids will be fine...

Fox “Glee(fully)” addresses Mixed Race

Fox is an easy target. It’s fairly obvious the cable channel has a significant anti-Obama bias. But I heard the entertainment division is giving Wanda Sykes a late night talk show, making her the “first black lesbian late night host,” even if it is on Saturday night only against SNL. I’ll admit I was one of those who laughed when Bill Cosby dissed her at the 2003 Emmy Awards [another perspective from Michael Eric Dyson], but I’ve since come to like her for her activism and her television appearances. Maybe it’s another tactic for the entertainment division using blacks to get an edge. (Remember Martin, Living Single, and New York Undercover on Fox vs. Must See TV on NBC or all those other 90s shows, The Sinbad Show, South Central, Moesha, In Living Color, and Roc? Honestly, I can never say any of those shows were ever must see for me. But it was a remarkable era for black TV.) And, in full disclosure, my cousin from the black side of the family does work for Fox and I’ve always felt her to be progressive, politically and culturally.

Though I missed the black era of Fox-TV some of my guilty pleasures have been those David E. Kelley on Fox shows like Ally McBeal, and Boston Public.

Now, I bashfully cop to a new show on Fox in a similar quirky mold, Glee. (I’m a sucker for quirky comedy, kids overcoming the odds through music, plus huge vocal harmonies and a little camp.) Mr. Kelley has nothing to do with this one, though. If you’re a fan of any of his work, you’ve definitely seen a lot of quite progressive diversity represented. This new show, though it shares some of the absurdist bent, seems to have a strange thing for mixed race people. One of the characters is I’m guessing, Japanese and Caucasian – last name Tanaka. But now two episodes in a row they’ve alluded to either the instability of parents of mixed race kids or the genetic viability of mixed race kids altogether. I know it’s a comedy and it’s had some bad word of mouth for it’s mean-spiritedness, though it also had a very sweet coming out story of a gay teen.

So, maybe I’m just being sensitive again, but I’m just wondering is this a common sort of perspective in certain parts of the country? Check out these two 30 second clips. The piling on two episodes in a row is a bit much for me. What do you think? And, for fun, do you think it’s an anti-Obama directive from on high? (For fun, OK? I’m not a conspiracy theorist. Really….)

John Hughes is Dead

How funny to be sitting in a coffee shop in the Valley on the day John Hughes died. I don’t know if all those eighties films were set in the Valley, but it feels like it. In my teens, the Valley was a slightly more exotic Irvine — which made it even more detestable. I’d moved up to UCLA, just 17 a few weeks earlier, and there were a few new friends from over the hill with ostentatious style that made my post-preppy/mod self cringe.

“Sixteen Candles” came out when I was 18. I liked “Breakfast Club” a lot better. And I hated that the Hughes Machine corrupted my precious Psychedelic Furs by inducing them to re-record “Pretty in Pink.”

But as cool as I wanted to be, I was swept up in the misfit romance of those films. Part of me wanted to be the dick that Andrew McCarthy or James Spader portrayed in those films. Part of me felt like Jon Cryer or Molly Ringwald. Really there was no one that really looked like me in those films, but it looked enough like the world I’d moved in just a few years earlier.

Then as the eighties and nineties moved ahead, I got to meet Jon Cryer one embarrassingly drunken night and Molly became a friend for a while after she’d seen my band play a few times. (Interesting that I never met the dicks.) My life really blended with the fantasy world of the Hughes entertainment. I was a geek who made it, at least modestly, to live the dream of making music, a beautiful partner, and seeing my friends do well. John Hughes films were kind of an ad for the geek dream. Even when it seemed kind of racist with Long Duck Dong, he gave kids who didn’t fit in hope. (Though I can’t really speak to authoritatively because I don’t remember a really stereotypical black character in his films.)

So somehow as the author of those dreams dies early (is ‘auteur’ appropriate?), it gives me an odd sadness. I’m sitting in a Coffee Bean. There are laptops everywhere. And we’re all a little out of the mainstream as we sit in this chain café. We all have modest dreams or even huge ones. Some people are dressed a little ostentatiously. I’ll never really understand Valley fashion. I’ll never understand why anyone would choose this place to live. (I’m house sitting and homeless at the moment…typing on my new MacBook Pro…It’s a strange world.)

How long do we have to dream? That’s the sadness. But I like the quirkiness here in this coffee shop and in the people passing by. John Hughes made it a little safer, or at least a little more imaginable for us modest misfits to dream. Thanks.

Two Walls

Two walls.   Two acts of violence.   I can’t remember what precipitated the violence, but I do remember that race mattered.   I tore down the pinups of the J5 from my wall.   Dad punched holes through the Angels.

Less than a year after the original moon walk, I saw the Jackson Five play a concert at the Los Angeles Forum.   I wasn’t even five.   At least that’s how I remember it.   Maybe it was when I was 7 that I first saw them there, but it seems like it was twice.   And I remember seeing a change the second time.   Michael was bigger.  His moves were wild… adult, I thought.   He was about to be 14.   Maybe it was too sexual for me.

Sex and blackness.   I was ambivalent.   I was barely seven!   But I was already aware of my father’s libido and my inadequacies.   Somewhere in my Oedipal/Castration Anxiety stage of development, he made me aware.

I don’t know what caused it, but I remember one evening, slamming the door to my room and ripping down all the photos of the Jackson Five.

A few years later we’d moved to Irvine.   We’d bought a house and were living the suburban dream that the Encino Jackson’s epitomized.   I was all about the Angels, and really Farrah.   One day my dad, angry at something or another, started screaming at me and punched holes in the Charlie’s Angels poster above my bed.   It was a slanted roof, so I was stuck there, on my bed, beneath the torn paper and falling plaster.   He was shouting something like, “Do you love those white girls more than me?”

Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett represented two parts of my life I never could embrace without some sort of interference.   If only Michael had stayed black, maybe I would never have had any issues!   Ha!   But he was a model of some subliminal influence that indicated with talent and a non threatening persona you could be loved.   There was even a boyish sexiness that you could use with the girls and especially the older women, to get ahead.

Farrah represented carefree beauty, seemingly free of any calculation, just the privilege of beauty.

I really stopped caring about either Michael or Farrah by the time the first Van Halen record came out.   Then, when I came under the influence of The Clash, around “London Calling,” they seemed to be hopeless artifacts.   I mean, I respected the production of Thriller.   I dug that Vincent Price and Eddie Van Halen were on the record (though I was suspicious of Eddie in my New Wave ethos).   I even got into the ambition and emotion of “We Are the World.” But the stuff never moved my soul the way the Smiths were, or the old school R&B of Marvin and Curtis, or Billy Bragg, Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell.

But I started to bawl when I heard “We Are the World” followed by “Man in the Mirror” driving home from a poetry gathering in Pasadena Thursday night.

There was heart and empowering ambition beneath the glitz of both Michael and Farrah.   The world responded to the glitz.   It seems like they both wanted to express more.   Yet the high of the glitz seems to be what destroyed them both.   The desire for adulation and the compulsion to run away from the falseness it imposes, to angrily reject it, is cancerous.   It can break your heart.   Both of these performers tried to break walls.   People wanted the pinups intact.   How does one make peace with that?   How does one walk in the world knowing who he or she is, while knowing that people are reacting to only a piece of you?   How do you accept the superficial praise and deflect the shortsighted damnations with grace?

Happy Loving Day

I offer you this in celebration of the Mixed Roots Festival and the Lovings of Loving v. Virginia, the case that forever abolished anti-miscegenation laws in the US in 1967.

It’s something I did in the mid-nineties.   It’s kind of silly with it’s Rolling Stones references, but also a lot of fun.

Hope to see you tomorrow, June 13th, at the Festival.

[audio: Mingus Demos/11we.mp3]

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I am the future
I am the past
I am the baby that you never had

Product of love
Raised in confusion
Not so much mine
But your illusion

In my life
Love is the solution
What about the children?
Don’t be chicken

We are what we are.

What’s so right within the white?
What’s so right within the black?
We all have organs
We like to use them
Gene pool mix—some brown will be the fusion

Down by law
Down by culture
One day
There’ll be no other
Long gestation

We are what we are.

We are African American European Asian sons
Politically incorrect, embracing every one
And loving and sexing
And sex and sex and sex and sex and
Look at me!

We are what we are.

(Repeat first verse)

Jason Luckett, © 1996 Lucky Masala Head

*Lucky Mingus was the name of the band. It lasted about 6 months with a revolving cast of Jim Doyle, Rob Ladd, and JMD on drums, Wil-Dog Abers (now of Ozomatli) and David Sutton on bass, and Jebin Bruni always on keys. This recording is Jim, David, Jebin and me with Danny Brown producing.

I was heavy into my Charles Mingus period and was trying to add a more collective and historical vibe to what I was doing. The best historical thing here is the bass line which is inspired by a 70’s glam band far on the other end of the spectrum from Mingus…also a little nod to the Rolling Stones… Very little Mingus…

Vin Diesel’s Multi-Facial

I’d always heard of this movie, but had never seen it.   I couldn’t find it on Netflix, but found the whole film on YouTube.


Ernie Barnes 1938 – 2009

I always loved his work.   It reminded me of my Los Angeles childhood, the beautiful freedom of house parties where I’d run around playing hide and seek, with Chuck-a-luck, Chris, Leslie and Jossie.   The adults danced, philosophized, and celebrated this community, largely a black one, though Mom and us kids were a lovely part of the simmering stew.

And how could you not hear Marvin Gaye when you see his work.

Sugar Shack - 1971

Ernie Barnes obit in the LA Times.

eHarmony Ad – Traci and Jeremy an Interracial Couple

I saw this this morning on ABC:


I thought it was great, though I had one knee jerk reaction: “Why does she have to be crazy?”

Update: For some reason the original ad isn’t available on an iPhone, but here’s another version, interestingly without the “crazy” comment.


Sorry I’ve been away, but you’ve got to read this!

I’ve been in “albumland” and trekking around India!   But   a friend of mine posted a link on her Facebook page and I have to share it.   It’s a story in Newsweek about a black family that adopted a white child and the post racial implications.

Hopefully, I’ll get back to more regular entries soon.

Happy New America

On MLK Day my sister has a gathering of folks to watch films and share stories and art around the issues of the day.   I was trying to think of what I wanted to share that day and I thought of Richie Havens at Woodstock.   So I looked up the lyric.   It primarily adapts Motherless Child, but he adds this line, “I’ve got a telephone in my bosom and I can call him from my heart.”   (Maybe he got it from this record here.)

I got to thinking if I had a similar capacity, who I’d like to call and let know about what was happening the next day in Washington.

So here it is.   A few anyway.   Who would you call?

Happy New America
I hope you will agree
We can build upon this dream….

With a telephone in your bosom you can call straight from your heart
With a telephone in your bosom you can call straight from your heart
She was only seventeen
Cleaning the house her mother used to clean

Stripped of the name of bondage
Now it was just a job
He called her “Pretty Something”
Said, “We could get along.”
She was only seventeen
Cleaning the house her mother used to clean

Grandfather called him ‘Mister’
He was just a boy
Disowned and rejected
For justice, he raised his voice
They buried him in Pine Street
With the brown brothers who claimed him

Hank stood behind the library
They handed him his books
It made it to the papers
“The Little Boy Who Read…”
Doctor loathed to recall
His moment in history

Lee married across the boundary
In 1961
Kennedy was inaugurated
Dylan sang Oxford Town
“It could’ve been me,” he said.
He left us in his sleep

Mine eyes have seen the glory
I won’t live in fear
Mine eyes have seen the glory
I won’t live in fear
A victory is upon us
Freedom is near

With a telephone in your bosom you can call straight from your heart
With a telephone in your bosom you can call straight from your heart
Tell them freedom is closer than ever
Freedom is here!

“Prom Night in Mississippi”

Did anyone see this at Sundance?   I’m really curious to hear about it.   It’s a documentary on the first integrated prom at a high school in Charleston, Mississippi that occured in 2008.   Yes, that’s right, no typo, 2008!   And only because Morgan Freeman offered to pay for it if they integrated the dance.

Tell me about it and let me know when I can see it, if you’re involved.

(Yes, I know, I’m just reading the Sunday Times on Tuesday morning, but I’ve been busy finishing my album mixes and writing a couple things that I’m really excited about!)

UPDATE:   I got a note from a friend down in MS, and he told me that it’s actually two different high schools.   Check it out the LA Times article anyway.   It’s a really interesting discussion.


I always felt American, now it's even more palpable.

Our Oval Office

I always felt American.   I’m the descendent of Pilgrims and slaves.   I know the White House was always supposed to be the People’s House.   Now I really feel it.   Everything is possible.

Repeal Prop 8 March in Los Angeles

On Saturday I participated in the nationwide protest against the passing of Proposition 8.   I’m not a fan of the initiative process.   I think it leads to the tyranny of the majority that our Republic was designed to avoid.   And we could argue all day about that, but most of the Civil Rights that were secured in the 20th Century were not by popular vote, but by court cases and legislation that was designed to protect minority rights.

So I’m bringing it back to the outlaw lovers that were my parents and Barack Obama’s parents, and anyone of “mixed race” whose parents were together before 1967.   Procreation is not the primary function of love, nor marriage.   But marriage is certainly a nice symbol and structure to nourish love and a family.

The “mulatto moment” for me Saturday was the echo in the story of a woman, born of a lesbian mother, but raised by two fathers, committed for over 35 years, yet just married this September.   She spoke of the normalcy and security of her family, yet also of the existential invisibility.   It reminded me of the days when I was expected to pick one, when asked for race or ethnicity.   And her ability to share her experience resonated with the gift I feel I’ve been able to use by moving in a black world or white world with an implicit acceptance.   The idea of that “gift” got me excited about Barack Obama initially. I decided I needed to vote for him when I saw this so fully articulated in his speech on race.

The gift of empathy or the ability to listen and communicate with inclusive respect aren’t the sole purview of hyphenates, but we do have to start practicing these things maybe a little earlier than people in a homogeneous home.

Oh, and now I want to start writing about the “mutts like me” joke Obama made in his first press conference.   I loved it!   But, I think I’ll have to leave that for later.

P.S.   I added some photos and captions to my election night entry.   I hope I’ll write more on that sometime soon.

“We’re a Winner” – Curtis Mayfield (1967)

Had an urge to listen to “Curtis Live” this morning.   This song was originally done by the Impressions in ’67.   I love the live version from 1971.   Seek it out.

We’re A Winner – Curtis Mayfield

We’re a winner and never let anybody say
Boy, you can’t make it ’cause a feeble mind is in your way
No more tears do we cry
And we have finally dried our eyes

And we’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)
Lord have mercy
We’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)

We’re living proof in all’s alert
That we’re two from the good black earth
And we’re a winner
And everybody knows it too

We’ll just keep on pushin’
Like your leaders tell you to
At last that blessed day has come
And I don’t care where you come from

We’re all movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)
Lord have mercy
We’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)

Hey, hey
We’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)
Lord have mercy
We’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)

I don’t mind leavin’ here
To show the world we have no fear
‘Cause we’re a winner
And everybody knows it too

We’ll just keep on pushin’
Like your leaders tell you to
At last that blessed day has come
And I don’t care where you come from

We’re just go move on up
(Movin’ on up)
Lord have mercy
We’re movin’ on up
(Movin’ on up)

We’ll just keep on pushin’
We’re a winner
Lord, baby
Everybody, hey, you know we’re movin’ on up


I just got in from the celebrations here in Nevada.  Wow.  I’m just completely blown away.  My first calls after my mother and sister were to my elders.  Septuagenarians,  Octogenarians, who never thought they would see this day.  I spent the day poll watching at a Baptist Church in the ‘burbs of Las Vegas, watching children come along with their parents who were casting votes for history.  No major shenanigans ensued.  I was there to check out who actually voted.  Then we went out to ask those who hadn’t shown up to come to the polls.  More with photos tomorrow or Thursday.  Now it’s time for sleep and to pick up that paper in the morning, of which I’d dreamt vividly just a month ago.  I almost relaxed, but I’m glad I came out here to put in the work!

Yes we did.

Here are a few more election photos:

Five hours on Sunday

Language again…

So I just sent out an email to my music list describing the wedding of a couple friends.   My reference to them was to celebrate their marriage, but because I’m used to describing gay couples as partners, that’s word I used.   But the point is that they’re husbands to each other.   My friend duly corrected me.

At the King Center Atlanta

If you live in California, please vote no on Proposition 8.

Homeboys and Drive by Shootings

Racially tinged language is fun!

A 10 year old interviews Joe Biden (who explains accurately what the Vice President does as opposed to his counterpart on the GOP ticket) after which the youngster proclaims him to be his new homeboy.   It’s so sweet!


Then there’s more John McCain.   He said he admired Obama’s use of language and asked us to parse it in the final presidential debate.   Here he says that “the people are the victims of a drive by shooting” in this economic crisis.   Should we parse this, John?   (It comes in at about the 6:20 in this clip, but watch the whole thing if you want to see him talk about spreading the wealth around himself, or get caught in other inconsistencies.)


Colin Powell may believe that Mr. McCain has not a racist bone in his body, but he’s consistently making either extroadinarily stupid statements, or is in fact a keen user of what was known as the “Southern Strategy‘s” language.   (I object to that term.   I agree with Frank Rich.   It’s insulting to the South to think an election can be won by appealing to the worst in human nature.   I’ve got a good chunk of family down there, white and black and I think we’re all smarter than that!)

At least he didn’t say, “‘that one’s’ you-know what.”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time and after I whip his you-know-what in this debate, we’re going to be going out 24/7,” McCain said.

Context:   he’s talking about spending time in battleground states with Sarah Palin after Wednesday’s debate with Obama.

Language use:   abysmal.

Day Two

As I left the house this morning I wondered if my post yesterday was disparaging in any way.   I laugh at myself all the time.   I always have a counter argument spinning in my head.   Usually the optimist wins out.   But when acknowledging the “red meat” of our touchy feelie Camp Obama meeting, I don’t know if it came across as what it really was. It’s a true example that Obama’s campaign is not about him, but us.   The McCain camp says it’s about country first and here we are in this camp talking about ourselves as individuals first before policy.   But look at that:   We’re talking about how in articulating an individual story we can connect ourselves to other individuals, community and country.   It’s not about heroes.   It’s about using honest communication to create bridges.   And it’s not an others be damned sort of individualism.   It’s more of a self-actualized sort of individual citizen.   In fact one of the sections in the training manual is “Respect, Empower, Include.”   What could be more American and patriotic?   OK, so my working title for yesterday’s entry was “Fearing the Kool-Aid…,” and I sound like I’ve drank it, but I really believe in this stuff.   I think the the failings of America has been in times of disrespect and exclusion.   Unfortunately, we have a history of double-speak, where we’ve espoused these ideas of every man being created equal, and yet made second class citizens of different racial and ethnic groups consistently in our history.   The groups change, but the divide remains familiar.

So this is what gets me about the McCain-Palin squad.   McCain says on one day about Barack Obama “I have to tell you, he is a decent person. And a person that you do not have to be scared as president of the United States.”   Then has concurrent ads running saying he’s “too risky for America.”   Which is it?   (Check out the talking points discussed here from Time: In Battleground Virginia, a Tale of Two Ground Games.)

Then you have an invocation at a McCain rally where the pastor says: “I would also pray, Lord, that   your reputation is involved in all that happens between now and November, because there are millions of people around this world praying to their god—whether it’s Hindu, Buddha, Allah—that his opponent wins, for a variety of reasons.   And Lord, I pray that you will guard your own reputation, because they’re going to think that their God is bigger than you, if that happens.   So I pray that you will step forward and honor your own name with all that happens between now and Election Day.”

What?   One God bigger than another?   A monotheist talking about more than one God??   I wrote a satire called “The Art of Jerry Boykin” after the Abu Ghraib revelations, that barely altered the quotes of several on the right essentially saying “My God is bigger than yours.”   I thought it was irrelevant by now.   Alas, no.

And I know I’m getting way off the subject of Mulatto Moments.   But maybe not.   The positive power of a   mulatto moment is hearing something shocking then having the opportunity to share your experience from a position of inclusion.   The hope is that whether or not you can sway the offending position, you can at least create a space where respectful dialogue can happen, where the division between an arbitrary “us” and “them” can be minimized.

The Art of Jerry Boykin

You’ve lost your morals
You’ve lost your values…and
My God is bigger than yours
My God is bigger than yours!

My God is real
Yours is an idol
We are Christians and Jews
The enemy’s a guy called Satan

They hate us because we’re a Christian nation
One nation under God
On crusade to stamp out all Evil
Let’s roll, let’s roll, let’s roll

I’ve no trouble saying I’m born again
And you’re with me or you’re against me
Not men, but God, put this man in power
We’ll win in the name of the Lord (Jesus)
(Jesus, we’ll win in your name)

We’re in the Army of God
In the house of God
In the kingdom of God
And we…
Have been raised for times like these


The Tender Balance of “Us-and-Other”

Today was my first day at Camp Obama.   I’m sure some would wonder why it took me so long.   Truth is I’m a cynic.   I’d rather imagine the good in people than face people and be disappointed.   It’s a fear.     And like all my fears, I eventually get around to the confrontation.   I think of it as my job.   I’m a singer songwriter because I was afraid to talk.   If I could get out 3 coherent minutes of an idea out, I thought I’d remedy it.   But I digress….

The gist of today was we’re in the last days of the campaign (not the Palin-esque Last Days), so what we have to offer is our personal stories.   We’re not going to wow people with policy at this point.   Argument is a waste of energy.   What we need to do is to motivate the already inclined to act.   So (and here’s some red meat for the haters) the first half of the camp was basically an autobiographical sketch workshop.   The task was identifying a personal challenge, explaining the choices we made because of it, and the outcome.   Yes it was Obamacentric in that we all had made choices to come and volunteer for this campaign.   And it had to be something that could be communicated in 120 seconds.

So I felt really esoteric when it came to my story.   I mean I write volumes about this stuff.   Our biographies overlap again and again.   I have millions of challenge>choice>outcomes that led me here.

Few kept it to 2 minutes – it’s hard with emotional subject matter.   But I like assignments, so I tried.   I offered the “nigger” story.

I was 5 and it was the days of Richard Pryor on vinyl.   My dad would call us “little shit asses.”   So you can’t blame me for being a foul mouthed kid.   I called a kid “nigger.”   I got beat up.   My parents explained the word to me and it began my journey into history and the language.   In Irvine a few years later I got beat up and called a “nigger.”

My corporal identity has allowed me to be perceived as oppressed and oppressor, included or other.   I focus on the inclusion in order to bring empathy toward the other for my peers.   I am the derided other, yet I’ve been included as family.   So take that a step further and include those for whom we don’t have a natural affinity.   Let’s understand their stories because they’re not dissimilar from your friend, me.

I feel like I’ve been able to do that through my music, it’s actually my mission.   I tried to do this a little through politics in college, but the pressure ate me up.   I said it was the “no Red States/Blue States” speech that got me, but really it wasn’t until the race speech (my Julia Moment) that I was in.   It’s that ability to speak in shared experience that I believe is Barack’s primary strength.

So is it all about race for me?   There are many biracial people out there I wouldn’t trust with my country.   Not many people would I trust with my country.   It’s what one does with his or her experience that moves me.   Obama does what I’d like to do in a larger forum.   I don’t agree with everything he does.   But that’s the great part about the conversation with those that are simultaneously “us-and-other.”     We see and can represent the humanity of those with whom we may differ from a rather unique perspective.   And if we’re practiced, we can hold this conversation in a really calm fashion.

I felt a little cold recalling this story to the group.   Name calling and childhood beatings seem rather existential when you’re talking with people whose narratives include present battles with healthcare and unemployment.   But it’s this essentialist tension that gives me the sense that Barack Obama has the skill set to hear the stories that will lead to effective leadership.   I’m not looking for an affective President, I’m looking for an effective President.   Affect is a large part of effective politicking, but something about the navigational balance of being “us-and-other” can blunt that when we’re trying for effective dialogue.   We’re not going to get a lot of red meat from Obama, but we will get a reasoned, educated and respectful discussion.

Daydream Obama 08 Remix-Rewrite

Daydream Obama 08

Carry us up to be received
We’re drinking coffee at 6 a.m.
Newspaper’s trying to scare me to death
But I won’t be pulled (polled?) into fear

Tears rise as I daydream
Will Martin’s Dream soon be fulfilled?

Can you feel?

Carry us up to receive
Cos despair as fate is nonsense to me
Sun warms us through our windows
But you and I must go outside

With knowledge from real conversations
We will act in work and song

Can you feel?
You’re not alone!
Can you feel?

Carry us up to believe
That words of peace stir collective souls
That we will be moved by non-violent minds
That this “change” will resist nostalgia

Tears rise as I daydream
And I begin to smile

Can you feel?
You’re not alone!

An update for this amazing day! Recorded this afternoon. (That’s Est Nyboer on the drums.)

OK, I’m obsessed

There’s no other way to say it. I’ve gone over the top. I’m digging into these Mulatto Moments so much that I saw this – Reinventing Gap: The Second Coming of Khaki – on the New York Times homepage and thought it was going to be a story about racial Khaki beige. I mean, I worked at the Gap in my youth. I should’ve clued in. But, no. A friend of mine has just hipped me to, which I’d avoided checking at all until I wanted to make sure I had the URL right. Oh, no… Good thing I’ve got to go to work now.

Reinventing Gap: The Second Coming of Khaki

Isaac Hayes and Posters on the Wall

I’ve just written a piece for an anthology on “the Black Body” where I described the posters of The Who, Queen and Led Zeppelin on my childhood walls in Irvine, CA. But today I was thinking of Isaac Hayes and stumbled across this picture and remembered it hanging on my wall at some point. I’m pretty sure it was pre-‘burbs. But it was nice to remember that there was a time when black men held my imagination in the same way that curly-headed white men did in my childhood imagination.

Isaac Hayes as Black Moses

A few years ago, I rediscovered the Black Moses album. I don’t know what drew me back to Isaac Hayes. My father and I share the middle name “Hayes,” so I guess he was never too far away… The story I always heard was that Pops was named after Roland Hayes, the great tenor who’d stayed with our family in Mississippi when there were no hotels for blacks. But after reading the Black Moses disc liner notes, I determined that Isaac Hayes had to be my uncle. Dad and Isaac both had a mother named Eula and the father was a wandering sort in the same Tennessee and Mississippi area. More than that, when I was a kid I always thought my dad had a lot of Isaac in him. Maybe it was because he’d mouth the words along with Shaft or something like that. Dad was definitely that cool, fashionable, player. But my head was completely screwed up by Isaac Hayes’ Penthouse magazine layout that I found in my dad’s stash.

I think what I like most about this photo is that is seems so organic. Isaac Hayes was known for his sexy bald head, muscles and precious metals. But here he’s in wool and cotton, his arms are open for embrace, he’s looking towards heaven beneath those shades. Sure it could be just a jokey, almost blasphemous visual pun. But as a kid that was the sort of image I wanted of my dad, not the flash, but the open, loving spirit. They were both imperfect men, and the flash out-shined some of the substance. But both Isaac and my pops inspired me to open my arms to embrace the large universe they showed me, a universe that transcended the humble beginnings of sons of a Eula with wandering fathers.

Stir It Up for Barack!

A few years ago I’d just turned 21 and had this mulatto moment. I share it with you today on my birthday. I recorded this at Kulak’s Woodshed in North Hollywood.

I’d like to encourage synergy with the Obama campaign, especially around the acceptance event in Denver on the 45th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s I Have a Dream speech, so I thought I’d put this out. I have a vision that we can get Diana Ross to mash in “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” with my “Stir It Up”
Then I’d like to sing Daydream which was written hoping for a day like this 10 years ago, when hope seemed more distant.


Right click to download Daydream

[audio: Miracle.mp3]

Right click to download Miracle.

Also I’m thinking that it would be nice to have some supporters cut videos to Daydream and Miracle using clips highlighting the issues that we hope to move in positive ways. The lyric for Daydream talks about a day when Martin’s dream is fulfilled. With all that’s going on in the media and campaigns, we know that is not going to be unequivocally August 28, 2008. But there is hope!


carry me up to be received
we’re drinking
coffee at 10am

newspaper deaths
thirty years, one day
a folk singer says i ain’t scared

and tears fall as i daydream
of martin luther king fulfilled

(can you feel…?)

carry me up to receive
‘cos despair as fate is nonsense to me
sun warms us through our windows
but my friend and i must go outside

with knowledge from these conversations
we must act at least in song

can you feel?
you’re not alone!
can you feel?

carry me up to believe
that words of peace stir collective souls
that we’ll be moved by nonviolent hands
that my passion’s not nostalgic

and tears rise as i daydream
and i begin to smile

can you feel?
you’re not alone!
can you feel
you’re not alone!

can you feel…
can you feel…
you’re not alone!
you’re not alone!

(c) 1998/2002 Jason Luckett

When you’re up 45 to 39 you’ve got to be in trouble!

Unfortunately, this is just a quick little note…I think. I’ve been writing music and working on an essay I’ll tell you about later. Then there was the tour which exposed me to a lot of ideas, but the pace was a little too frantic to keep up. Anyway, what inspired me to jump on this evening is not really a mulatto moment at all, but a media moment. And I think it also speaks to some of the comments that I’ve received in my absence. It’s the NYTimes article today Poll Finds Obama Isn’t Closing Divide on Race.

I chose not to publish a couple comments from people recently because they felt too negative and inflammatory. But the gist of it was that the articles here were all about race and race isn’t or shouldn’t be the issue in the presidential campaign. Well, race and culture are probably going to be the topic on a blog subtitled “Mulatto Moments in ‘Post Racial’ America,” so you are probably in the wrong place if looking for a “colorblind zone.” But one of the problems with this election is that it’s being talked about in racially divisive ways. A funny thing, Jon Stewart said that the proper response to the New yorker cover that is causing so much noise should have been:

“Barack Obama is in no way upset about the cartoon that depicts him as a Muslim extremist. Because you know who gets upset about cartoons? Muslim extremists! Of which Barack Obama is not. It’s just a fucking cartoon!”

But I actually liked what Barack had to say on Larry King in response to the smear e-mails and cartoon:

“One last point I want to — I do want to make about these e- mails, though. And I think this has an impact on this “New Yorker” cover. You know, this is actually an insult against Muslim-Americans, something that we don’t spend a lot of time talking about. And sometimes I’ve been derelict in pointing that out.

You know, there are wonderful Muslim-Americans all across the country who are doing wonderful things. And for this to be used as sort of an insult or to raise suspicions about me I think is unfortunate. And it’s not what America is all about.”

And I think that’s probably more to the point than Stewart’s comedy.

Back to the Times today… It was also on AOL’s front page as the first item of news. The Times article says that “More than 80 percent of black voters said they had a favorable opinion of Mr. Obama; about 30 percent of white voters said they had a favorable opinion of him.” What they could’ve said right next to that as their graphic indicates, only 35 percent of white voters have a favorable opinion of John McCain. And as you can see, the graphic list Obama’s “white approval” at 31% to McCain’s 35%. A four percentage point difference and AOL says New Poll Reveals Trouble for Obama. Huh? What was the white approval rate for the Democrats in ’04 as opposed to the Republicans? Historically Republicans seem to win the white male vote, so I’d venture to say the percentages were about the same. And blacks tend to vote Democrat, so while 80% is high it’s probably not much more skewed than Irish Catholics for Kennedy, Greeks for Dukakis, etc. So why did this inspire an “Is America Ready for a Black President?” poll on AOL? It seems someone is looking for a racial hook.

Then you get the results as of 11pm PST on Wednesday:

Do you think America is ready for a black president?
No 59%
Yes 41%
Total Votes: 403,336

Are you personally ready for a black president?
Yes 53%
No 47%
Total Votes: 393,646

How big a role do you think race will play in the outcome of the presidential election?
Major 68%
Minor 28%
None at all 4%
Total Votes: 309,373

What’s your race?
White 77%
Black 9%
Other 6%
Hispanic 5%
Asian 3%
Total Votes: 295,493

With the caveat:

Poll results are not scientific and reflect the opinions of only those users who chose to participate. Poll results are not reflected in real time.

And the New York Times poll? They asked their questions to 1,338 white people and 297 black people.

How many people read this article? And then how many got past the paragraph three where Obama gets “about [a] 30%” favorable rating from whites to the paragraph where McCain’s favorable rating is only 35%. Oh, that’s right, it’s never mentioned in the article’s twenty-seven paragraphs. But if you do click on to page two of the online article you’ll see mentioned that “Over all, Mr. Obama leads Mr. McCain among all registered voters by 45 percent to 39 percent.” in paragraph twenty.

Obama leads 45% to 39%. That screams racial trouble! Let’s put it on the front page. 1,796 adults have determined that our world is a mess!

Race needs to be discussed. Let’s just please discuss it in context and in non-alarmist ways. Be honest, be angry, but please be reasonable. And I suppose you could say I missed the point of the NYTImes article because it was really about how black people think race relations are worse than white people see it. Interesting news… There must be trouble for Barack Obama. But it’s not coming from the data in this poll.

Slips of the Tongue and Things to Chew

I had a rant the other day – when it was the Che Guevara/Obama supporter controversy – and I knew it would be impossible for me to ever be a mainstream politician. I give a buck to the woman selling the Communist newspaper outside the lefty folk singers’ shows. And I’ve bought the bean pie and taken the newspaper. Some of the stuff I read resonates at times, but mostly I’m excited that people are fiercely passionate about questioning the status quo. It may not make sense to me. And there’s enough contradiction in all these dogmas, from communism to religion to the “American Dream” to fuel ironic monologue’s long after the sun dies. But it’s committed work. And the more this poor guy misspeaks, the more I believe in him.

Barack Obama is getting caught in so many mulatto moments, creating a national mulatto moment, and making clear that sometimes in those mulatto moments of multi-lingual encounters, we fall prey to the language that we suspect our listener can hear. Those are the uncomfortable moments when you let a cultural offense slip by and then find yourself in a situation where you’ve said something in a way that could be interpreted as offensive. But you want to avoid the time it takes to deliver “Barack Obama’s Speech on Race” which may or may not be received. So you figure your friends know you’re not elitist, or racist, or sexist and you let it go in the moment. I mean, you probably figure, I’ve spent literal years of my life trying to deconstruct bias in an effort to foster community and understanding, in conversations with lovers, family members, in public, in art…. I’ll just let this one go. Then someone, who hasn’t asked you what you meant by your “gaffe,” decides to interpret it for you. This person shapes it into something that fits his/her world view or aim. Then it’s turned against you.

So a “typical white person” becomes a racist remark, when in fact a “typical person” of any background in America may have the same reaction as Grammy Dunham, if you believe computer test simulations. And expressing that people cling to the things that they have left to empower them becomes an elitist observation, or a borderline racist appeal when Howard Dean said he wanted to bring the Confederate Flag bumper sticker truckers into the fold of the Democratic Party. All of these cases are situations where the speakers are trying to reach out, to say “I feel your pain” (or “their pain” depending on the audience). And yet the great pain feeler of the 90s reacts like the child of privilege when he claims no racial or ill intent in some of his statements recently. And even if you give the benefit of the doubt, to the intentions Bill or Hillary, or anyone else who thinks their “politically incorrect” statement is innocuous, a person who wishes to create real dialogue will acknowledge their words are legitimately heard differently by those from a different perspective.

In debate, I think the rule is to never give your opponent’s perspective any real credence. I prefer a dialogue between interested parties in life and in Government. Admit your mistakes, consider the different perspectives, and let’s move on. I kind of agree with Frank Rich from a couple weeks ago that it’s silly for the Dems to say that John McCain wants a hundred year war. Look at all these candidates’ long records and there’s no need to twist. Obama will be the most effective leader.

So, I got back into this electoral politics thing again…

Well here’s my religious thought of the day: God as a verb rather than a noun. I heard Chris Hedges float that idea the other day and I’m enjoying the chew.