Project HIP-HOP Helped Mold Me

 A moment in my life when I discovered a power or experienced my power at "work" was when I was a part of a non-profit organization called Project HIP-HOP (PHH). As mentioned in my previous post, the HIP-HOP in PHH stands for Highways Into the Past, History Organizing, and Power. PHH was a social activist group that performed creative flash mobs to the public. The flash mobs each displayed a different "ism"; such as racism, sexism, classism, etc. Instead of protesting with signs and marching down roadways, we put all of our protests in our flash mob pieces through the arts of song, dance, and theatre. I was dance captain of this group and the main character in most of the pieces. Although I was a great dance captain, I fell in love with theatre and the spiritual connection I have with theatre especially when it has a heavily important message behind it.  

 
 I was riding on this high of my powers of creativity in dance and theatre, as well as the spiritual journey I had within myself with the help of my mentors. Wyatt Jackson (the dance director), Ferai D. Williams (the theatre director), and Mariama White-Hammond (the executive director). During my 2 years there at Project HIP-HOP. I was one of two people to able to get the opportunity to go on the annual Civil Rights Movement tour twice. My 1st year on the tour I visited and exchanged performances with inmates sentenced to prison due to a Jim Crow law "violation". At one point my group and I were at a black history museum in Mississippi when the museum suddenly received bomb threats from the Ku Klux Klan a.k.a "the KKK". Lastly, and as mentioned in my previous post, I lost my grandmother, whom I called Nana, on the 50th anniversary of the march on Washington; right before my group and I was supposed to perform our civil rights flash mob piece for former President Barack Obama. 

At this point, I started to feel hopeless and became infuriated with tears, anger, and astonishment due to
the emotional chain of events. A year prior to my Nana's death, my grandmother on my mom's side, my Abuelita, passed away and Nana's mother, "Nana- Great", also passed away a week after. As if that wasn't enough my cousin also got shot on my Abuelita's front steps in the same week my Nana-Great passed away. In the case of both Nana and Abuelita, I lived with each of them at the time of their passings and as a result became homeless twice because of my name not being on any of their leases. I was later diagnosed by my high school therapist with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I was beginning to feel hopeless at this point. I was just receiving blow after blow and funeral after funeral. I felt like we had more family reunions because of the many funerals my families had to attend. In the same. I felt as if I was losing my power and everything I've ever worked for would come to a tragic end away from my family at the young age of 16 years old.

To strengthen my powers and replenish myself, I pushed myself to learn the skills that my Nana tried to acquire, but never got the chance to, such as, American Sign Language (ASL) and knitting. I also continued to practice dance and theatre. Although I suffered a great deal due to mental illness, and still am. I look at the knowledge I instilled in my soon to be 2- year old son teaching him beginner signs to quickly advance his speech capabilities and to be able to communicate his needs and wants to me before he could even speak. It is because of my sons that I am going back to college. I want to lead and live by example and show them the importance of the cliche saying " you can be anything you want to be if you put your mind to it." I want my sons to see their mom conquer and grind her way to a master degree in Speech Pathology/ Communication Disorders with a minor in Hearing and Deafness. I want to let them see their mom be what she wants to be when she grows up. That would be the greatest power of all, the power of inspired determination.