RezaRitesRi.com

By Reza Corinne Clifton

(This article appeared in the April 5 edition of Motif Magazine)

PROVIDENCE, RI—Does glamour and beauty mix with rebirth and piety? It will Sunday April 16—Easter Sunday—at the Beauty is Diversity Fashion Festival, 6:00 PM-10:00 PM at the Providence Marriot Hotel. The fourth annual event of Connecting the Dots, Inc., the festival is “a family night” that will consist of a fashion show and performances by regional talent.

Connecting the Dots is an after school youth program aimed at giving hope and inspiration to young people in a way that is connected to popular culture. Their mission is to “research and develop relationships with a diverse network of resources so that we can help urban students reach their educational and career goals.” Four years in, it began with six young women, of ages 21-24, who acknowledged the influence they could have on young people.

Their initial step was grouping together their cousins, friends, neighbors, etc. to start meeting at the Juan Pablo Duarte [Dominican] Club. Early on, reports one of the original six founders—and the only one remaining—Belkis Raquel Paulino, they provided the youth with workshops in hip hop, politics, theatre and dance. Later, they even offered workshops hosted by representatives from the Ford Modeling Company.

“We believe that education is the key to students seeing outside of their limits,” she tells me. “However, you cannot push education without relating to them—and giving them something in return. I mean, our kids are always thinking, ‘Why invest? What’s in it for me?’”

For Paulino, these fashion shows address the last question.

“Well, all of them get to be the protagonists or the highlights of the show once they’re on the stage. And this is important especially because if you’re not an artist, you really get a limited time to be showcased. We build up self-esteem, while at the same time displaying their talents during the show.”

What about the non-model types, I wondered.

“Some of them design the clothes too. Since the beginning, we’ve had eighteen year olds contribute their own [self-]designed clothes.

“In this year’s show, they will direct and produce the choreography and the models of the show segments where their clothes appear. They’re also behind the scenes, [doing] networking, marketing, designing flyers and [designing] the ad booklet. So it’s hands on learning.”

“One student [a former intern of Paulino’s and a Miss Teen Latina, RI], Claudia Delarosa, did a fashion show and instead of collecting money, she collected food. It resulted in 250 pounds of food.”

Along with the innovation of the students, there have been other adaptations and developments since the first show in 2003. For example, the number of participants has changed. The first and second years’ had fifteen girls, and at last year’s there were nineteen or twenty. This year, they’ll have about thirty—“more than that with the musicians and [other] non-models,” adjusts Paulino.

Another change has had to do with Paulino herself. She has been working at The Metropolitan Career and Technical Center, the multi-site, high-achieving, nontraditional high school commonly referred to as The Met, for two years now. Therefore, many of the Connecting the Dot’s youth are now drawn from there, while the school is now credited as a producer and sponsor of the Fashion Festival. And support, especially financial support—like their first grant which they received this year from 21st Century Community Learning Centers—is something Paulino remembers not having.

“We have support from the City of Providence and local businesses. This has originally been very grassroots, though: door-knocking, various fifty-dollar contributions, etc. The type of thing where thirty girls would go out and approximately five would come back with money.”

For more information or to purchase tickets to the Sunday April 16 Beauty is Diversity Fashion Festival ’06, call 404-324-3009 or email rocpaulino@gmail.com

Reza Corinne Clifton is a community organizer for high school reform at RI Children’s Crusade for Higher Education. She is also a freelance writer whose articles can be seen in The Providence American Newspaper, Motif Magazine and at www.RezaRitesRi.com

By Reza Corinne Clifton

(This article appeared in the March 30 edition of The Providence American Newspaper)

(April 15, 2006) Boston area artists and awards night performers:
Spoken Word Female Artist Winner, Iyeoka Okoawo;
R&B Male Singer nominee Terry Gresham.

PROVIDENCE, RI—Flash bulbs, red carpet, shimmering attire, and a sea of black and brown faces. While this description may sound like something from the Soul Train Music Awards or from the NAACP Image Awards, it is not. This is something you can expect to see nearby in Boston, on Saturday, April 15 at New England’s first Annual Urban Music Awards at the Berklee Performance Center, 136 Massachusetts Avenue. Starting at 6:30 PM regional artists, promoters, producers, radio personalities and others will be honored and awarded for their work, in categories like R&B, Rap, Blues, Caribbean, Spoken Word and more.

******

One of the nominees—and a scheduled performer that night—is Terry Gresham, a Boston-based R&B singer. I saw him perform in Providence this past October, at Tazza Caffe on Westminster Street, where among other things, I observed him do remakes of Stevie Wonder and Rick James and proclaim “I crave funk.” Impressed with this brother’s musical versatility and soul-drenched vocals, I signed up to be on his email newsletter list.

Fast forward five months, and I receive an update from the e-newsletter indicating that Gresham is a nominee for the New England Urban Music Awards, a prestige I had previously not heard of.

******

Boston-based Charles Clemons, Jr. is president of the Annual Urban Music Awards. He is also a successful entrepreneur, having founded two businesses—First Choice Limousine Services and C.C. Sounds DJ and MC Services—and a popular radio personality on Radio Contintentale 102.1 FM in Boston. And while this might seem like another business venture, talk with Clemons—if you can catch him—and you’ll see it’s more.

“I have been thinking about the Urban Music awards for about 5 years. And that’s because there’s so much talent around the New England area that hasn’t been seen or heard. It is basically untapped. Also, I like folks to network. I see the Awards as an opportunity for artists to network, showcase talent, and encourage them to go to their next step.

“The other issue is that I want to put the music industry on the right path. It has deviated from the right path in terms of the vulgar language, the exploitation of females—and even men. It’s time to have clean, conscious, empowering music that parents and children can listen to.

“It’s bigger than me. We were all put on the earth to do something positive. I always think ‘It’s what you did while you were here.’ Boston needs a New England Music Awards. It’s a BET or Grammy’s of Boston, red carpet, cameras flashing, the whole thing.”

As a RI and not a Massachusetts resident, though, and as someone familiar with some of the strong talent here, I was definitely concerned about how much attention was given to reaching RI artists—especially if the program was being touted as a New England thing.

This is Clemons’s first time at this, though, and he is proud (and rightly so) of what he has been able to do with few sponsors and a modest circle of supportive people:

“If you look on my website, you’ll see over 300 entries. If you look, though, the blues department, the Latin and the Caribbean department really didn’t get tapped into. We didn’t get as many as we wanted.

“I interview artists every night, and I can do that because I’m on a community station instead of a commercial station. These artists need this.

“I get on average 805 emails a day. The team I have working with me, Sophia Cotton from Simple Sites Solutions built this entire website alone…out of the kindness of her heart. And I have [other] great people on my team…people who did this out of love for me. People believe in me and they believe in my vision.”

I can’t argue with that, but I try one more time; I’m looking to see if the deadline for
nominations had been extended or to see if there were still auditions or openings for performances on the fifteenth.

“In August,” he indicates, “we start the planning again [for next year] and people can visit the website for directions. That way they can start voting in November.

“We would like to have a Latin performer on April 15,” he finishes.

Victory. April 7 will be the cutoff, he indicates for Latin bands, singers, or performers who would like to perform on April 15 at New England’s First Urban Music Awards.

As for the rest of us? Mary, Usher, Diddy, move out the way. This is our red carpet.

For more information about New England’s First Urban Music Awards visit www.urbanmusicawards.org or call 617-686-1377.

Reza Corinne Clifton is a community organizer for high school reform at RI Children’s Crusade for Higher Education. She is also a freelance writer whose articles can be seen in The Providence American Newspaper, Motif Magazine and at www.RezaRitesRi.com

(This article appeared in its entirety in the March 23, 2006 edition of The Providence American newspaper)

By Reza Corinne Clifton

Part I

Judge O. Rogeriee Thompson as a teen. Photo courtesy of Judge Thompson

CRANSTON, RI-Associate Justice O. Rogeriee Thompson is RI’s first and only Black woman appointed and sitting on the state’s Superior Court. Before her appointment, she was also RI’s first Black woman District Court judge. Her husband and brother-in-law are also judges here in RI; they are my family and Judge Thompson is my mother.

Whether part of panel discussions or making personal visits to schools, Judge Thompson is relatively known in RI. Nor is hers a completely new face to the newspaper.

A haphazard look through clippings, photography albums, and general boxes of old stuff reveal news stories dating back to 1982—about the birth of her second child, my brother William Jr.—as well as stories about her two judicial appointments and the racial climate in RI during the times. High-profile cases heard in front of her certainly grace television news from time to time, while my brother, sister (Sarah Ojetta) and I will never forget the article in which she and my father told the entire state of RI that they take baths together.

What would I write about then? In preparing for an interview, what would I ask? What do people want to know? I asked myself these questions repeatedly; ultimately I decided to focus on things that still seemed mysterious to me. How is it, for instance, that Judge Thompson went from growing up in Greenville, South Carolina, to attending high school in Scarsdale, New York? What was my great grandmother—her grandmother—like? What was the racial climate like in Greenville?

The result? A Sunday afternoon where I ended up interrupting Judge Thompson’s “spring cleaning” to have questions I never asked before answered and to hear unfamiliar layers of familiar stories revealed. What follows are fragments of her responses.

*****

In the Arms of Mary Magdalene

My Grandmother [maternal, Mary Magdalene Bedenbaugh Simkins] lived with us [Thompson’s mother—Sarah Ojetta Simkins Thompson Sullivan—and Thompson’s sister—M. LaVonne Thompson] throughout the school year, then in the summer she lived with her own sister in Greenwood, South Carolina…except for when Momma went to pursue additional credits. After my father died, she went back to school to earn credits toward a Master’s degree which resulted in a pay raise in teaching.

Grandmother was so wonderful and so sweet. I spent a lot of time with her because she took care of us. She was a seamstress, so we spent a lot of time sewing and making doll clothes because she taught me how to make them. I was always with her during after school time because Momma worked.

Whenever Momma was mad at me, Grandma always intervened: “Now Sarah, she didn’t mean anything by it”…She was also really good about telling her family’s story; I learned a lot about Momma’s family from her.

She used to cook for us, so I spent a lot of time cooking with her and hand-making biscuits. She had this long hair, too, down to her waist. I would brush her hair for hours, and she loved it…She also had these deep, deep wrinkles in her hands, and I used to play with them for hours, and she never minded.

They [Thompson’s mother and maternal grandmother] were a contrast in their old age. My grandmother never remarried, and she really and firmly believed in exercise and physical activity, and ultimately she only got sick after she broke her hip. And you know your grandmother; she never really exercised. But my mother really was so devastated by my father’s death. She never necessarily got over it even after marrying Pop [Thompson’s stepfather].

*****

Leaving Home: Trekking and Transferring

By the time I got to the 9th grade, I felt very stifled at home. I had the most thoughtful, intellectual people teaching me [at a segregated high school], who all loved to read…and this was more like me. My best friend, Glenda, was intellectual, but she was a math-, not literature-lover, but my other girlfriends…?

Now it was common in those segregated schools for academically gifted students to skip 12th grade and go right to college from 11th grade. We had good guidance counselors in that school…Well back in those days, your guidance counselor might send something on for you without you even knowing about it, never mind signing. So, my guidance counselor submitted my name for this summer program at Knoxville College in Tennessee.

I went…and I loved it. It was like, “finally, a place for students like me. We read, we studied, we traveled. We also did this Tennessee to North Carolina trek that summer. I mean, we were young folks, having fun, traveling to different cities, staying in hotels. The second year, we traveled to the HemisFair in San Antonio, Texas [Thompson’s husband’s hometown]. It was the first time I saw San Antonio and the Riverwalk.

But it was during the first summer that Mr. Johnson, head of the program, asked “who wants to go away to school next year?” It was through the Student Transfer Education Program (STEP). Needless to say, I was there the same day inquiring about it.

No, I never felt like I was abandoning anyone and I didn’t feel like I was abandoning my friends. I missed my friends…well some of my friends. I felt like I was entering a new phase of my life. You know, I always think to myself, “Experience as much as you can before you die.”

Judge Thompson graduated from Pembroke/Brown University in 1973, and from Boston University Law School in 1976. Before becoming a judge, she ran a private law firm with her sister, served as assistant solicitor for the city of Providence, and practiced law at RI Legal Services. In 1988, she was selected to sit on the RI District Court. In 1997, she was appointed to the RI Superior Court following three ignored recommendations, two for the RI Supreme Court and an earlier one for Superior Court.

Reza Corinne Clifton is a community organizer for high school reform at RI Children’s Crusade for Higher Education. She is also a freelance writer whose articles can be seen in The Providence American Newspaper, Motif Magazine, and online at www.RezaRitesRi.com.

(This article appeared in its entirety in the March 23, 2006 edition of The Providence American newspaper)

By Reza Corinne Clifton

Part II

Judge O. Rogeriee Thompson as a teen. Photo courtesy of Judge Thompson

CRANSTON, RI-Associate Justice O. Rogeriee Thompson is RI’s first and only Black woman appointed and sitting on the state’s Superior Court. Before her appointment, she was also RI’s first Black woman District Court judge. Her husband and brother-in-law are also judges here in RI; they are my family and Judge Thompson is my mother.

Whether part of panel discussions or making personal visits to schools, Judge Thompson is relatively known in RI. Nor is hers a completely new face to the newspaper.

A haphazard look through clippings, photography albums, and general boxes of old stuff reveal news stories dating back to 1982—about the birth of her second child, my brother William Jr.—as well as stories about her two judicial appointments and the racial climate in RI during the times. High-profile cases heard in front of her certainly grace television news from time to time, while my brother, sister (Sarah Ojetta) and I will never forget the article in which she and my father told the entire state of RI that they take baths together.

What would I write about then? In preparing for an interview, what would I ask? What do people want to know? I asked myself these questions repeatedly; ultimately I decided to focus on things that still seemed mysterious to me. How is it, for instance, that Judge Thompson went from growing up in Greenville, South Carolina, to attending high school in Scarsdale, New York? What was my great grandmother—her grandmother—like? What was the racial climate like in Greenville?

The result? A Sunday afternoon where I ended up interrupting Judge Thompson’s “spring cleaning” to have questions I never asked before answered and to hear unfamiliar layers of familiar stories revealed. What follows are fragments of her responses.

*****

New School, New Culture, Any Friends?

When I got to Scarsdale, there was one Black student a year ahead of me; there was a Black student from the town; and there were two of us from STEP. During my second year it was a little different; after my second summer in the Knoxville program, Mr. Johnson ended up sending three more students up during what was my second year in Scarsdale.

In terms of why Scarsdale? There were all these towns in suburban New York that were resisting integration with black schools or communities nearby. This was a concession, then, I think: they’d let in a couple at a time. Scarsdale was one of the top three public schools in the country at the time…The busing never happened, by the way. Scarsdale is a bit more diverse now. There are many more Asian families, only a few more Black families.

For a Black student from the segregated south to wind up in a northern, rich suburbia, it was a complete culture shock. I mean, there was this new racial culture, this wealth culture…

When I grew up, you never talked to white people in the South; you never really acknowledged them, and of course them not you. I never had a white friend in South Carolina. I did have white teachers in elementary school because I went to a Catholic school. But they wore habits that covered them up so I never thought about their race.

In Scarsdale, it was difficult making friends, but I had an inroad because my host sister Jennifer’s friends became mine, but that was still hard. I joined the girl scouts, so there were activities and inroads there. And I was a member of the youth group at the church my [host] family attended, so I attended church every Sunday night with the youth group.

*****

Changing with the Times

I participated in anti-war demonstrations—lots in New York and while I was at Brown [University]. In Greenville, we weren’t doing anti-war demonstrations; We were focused on Civil Rights protests. I was too young to personally do much demonstrating in Greenville, but my sister was involved, for instance, in sit-ins to integrate the airport waiting rooms.

In Greenville, we did what we could do as young people to make change, like refusing to sit in the back of buses, for instance. The way the bus route worked when I was in junior high was that it would go from Downtown Greenville, stopping first at the white junior high then eventually to my school. The white students would get on the bus, up front, then put their books down so we couldn’t sit there. And we’d try to move them, but…

One day when I was in the 7th grade, we all packed water guns that were filled with ink. And at the last stop right before downtown, we all got up and we all squirted the mean white kids then ran out. Immediately afterwards, the nuns changed our dismissal time so that we avoided seeing them. They [the white schoolchildren] knew who we all were since we were in [catholic school] uniforms.

I think that the nuns were scared for us; I think that that’s why they changed our dismissal time. Momma and the other parents were upset that they changed our school time. We “hadn’t done anything wrong”, was their position.

And there was this movie theatre downtown that was segregated. We used to have to use this side door that was down this dark alley, then climb to the balcony. And I mean, we were throwing popcorn from up there the whole time. Probably at some point somebody [in Greenville] had gotten lynched, but we were far enough along that no one would get lynched for throwing popcorn

It was senior year in Scarsdale that I began wearing an afro. Momma was a bit upset by it, but it was also that she couldn’t understand it. But it was more of the pants[-wearing] that upset her. Before I moved to Scarsdale, I never wore pants but to play outside. Then one day in Greenville, after I had been living in Scarsdale, I arrived at church wearing pants—part of a suit or set—and she just lost it. She made a scene in church and everything, and the minister even had to come to the house to console her: “Now Sister Sarah, times are changing…”

*****

South Carolina, to New York, to Rhode Island?

Early on when I started looking for school, I visited my best friend’s cousin, Keith, who was attending Brown. Visiting Brown or Pembroke was the same thing really: Pembroke was always closely connected to Brown; it was called Pembroke College in Brown University. We [Brown students and Pembroke students] had classes, parties, activities together; we just lived separately.

Well, Keith arranged for me to stay on campus with a [female] friend of his. Because of this, I met all the Black women who attended Pembroke, who were all so sweet and inviting. Plus there was a lot going on that weekend—parties, activities… I had a great time there! Also during that visit, I had a great interview with someone from admissions. I decided that weekend that I wanted to go to Brown.

When I returned to Scarsdale, I visited my guidance counselor and started talking to her about colleges. She had picked out all these little places, these small Baptist colleges and places I had never heard of, so I told her that I wanted to go to Pembroke. She replied, discouragingly, “Well, you know Pembroke is a really good school. It is an Ivy League School…it is one of the seven sister schools…” I basically said “don’t worry about it…just send my stuff up…just send my transcript.”

I didn’t apply to many places. I applied and wasn’t accepted to Harvard—which was Radcliffe [the women’s division of Harvard] at the time. As a matter of fact, Harvard called to say “we haven’t accepted you…we were impressed with your merits…and we’ve forwarded your materials to Tufts who is impressed with you…so we’ve arranged for you to attend Tufts.”

Well I just let them know that I had been accepted and would be attending Pembroke.

*****

Career Choice: Classroom to Courtroom

Growing up in the Segregated South, I realize now that my parents walked a tight wire: they had to convince us of our potential, and simultaneously steer us towards careers we could really attain. Folks always encouraged teaching because teaching was accessible for Blacks. I always considered teaching and in conversation it would come up, but I really had no interest in it. It also came up having two parents as educators [Thompson’s father was a school principal, mother a schoolteacher].

In a segregated community, there were folks in all kinds of professions who serviced just the black community, like lawyers and doctors. There were not many, but they were there and they serviced us. So I considered law and medicine.

At Brown my final choice for a major was English. You really have to consider how to apply an English degree, though an English degree is really good to have for any type of job. In terms of careers, you can consider teaching, journalism and writing…But at that point there was so much going on in the law field.

The country was in a very politically dynamic time. Blacks were trying to break free from historical barriers, and the same with women. The court had come down with some very important decisions, like Brown V Board of Education and the one which upheld the Montgomery Bus Boycott. Those decisions basically denied segregation of public accommodations [beginning in the 1950’s, though hardly enforced].

At the end of junior year [in college], I decided to go to law school. I had one dean at Brown who was very discouraging, though. He was African-American, but he was from my parent’s era. I remember clearly what he told me, too: “There are a lot of Black lawyers handling mail in the post office.” I remember thinking, “I hope not. I could have stayed in South Carolina [rather than go to Brown University] if I was going to wind up at the post office.”

Judge Thompson graduated from Pembroke/Brown University in 1973, and from Boston University Law School in 1976. Before becoming a judge, she ran a private law firm with her sister, served as assistant solicitor for the city of Providence, and practiced law at RI Legal Services. In 1988, she was selected to sit on the RI District Court. In 1997, she was appointed to the RI Superior Court following three ignored recommendations, two for the RI Supreme Court and an earlier one for Superior Court.

Reza Corinne Clifton is a community organizer for high school reform at RI Children’s Crusade for Higher Education. She is also a freelance writer whose articles can be seen in The Providence American Newspaper, Motif Magazine, and online at www.RezaRitesRi.com.

By Reza Corinne Clifton

(Modified versions of this article appeared in Motif Magazine and The Providence American Newspaper)

Poet, Christopher Johnson; painting by Sydney Tillet
(Straight Mixed Culture, 2006)

PROVIDENCE, RI—Pick up and flip through various Rhode Island arts and entertainment guides, and you will see evidence of the popularity of poetry, here in Providence and elsewhere. From coffeehouse style open mics, to fast-paced slam poetry competitions, poetry readings and spoken word sessions are regularly scheduled and solidly attended. And RI is not alone in this artistic movement. New York City and Philadelphia, for example, are well-known for some of the poets who have emerged from those urban centers, while cable television’s HBO network premiered hip hop business mogul Russell Simmon’s Def Poetry Jam to a national audience in 2001 that is still hungry for more.

Spoken word is an art, though, a sub-genre of poetry maybe, but an art form no less. This means that public popularity or not, there are no limitations to the style and voice nor to the influences and confluences, and one poet based here in RI intends to demonstrate just that: the sometimes blurry line separating the spoken word medium from other art forms.

The Spoken Word Theater Series is happening on Friday and Saturday, March 17 and March 18 at Perishable Theatre on Empire Street in Providence. With the support of Perishable, this “[i]ntertwining [of] Poetry and Theater for two Explosive evenings” is being organized by Providence poet Christopher Johnson.

Featured in Motif a couple months ago, Johnson is a New Jersey native and Providence resident known for his searing and memorable written and performed poems. He is currently poet-in-residence at AS220; he created, hosts, and performs at the weekly open mic, Virtuosity, at the Providence Black Repertory Company; and he has competed nationally as a member of several Slam Teams including RI’s.

Johnson’s role is different this time, though. As just the host, he will be removing himself from the stage—at least figuratively—to make way for “short one act plays” by the invited poets: Anthony Rucker, Iyaba Mandingo, Ellen Piangerelli, Richard Pleasant and Word, Brown’s Spoken Word Society.

“This festival combines the passion and skill of performance poetry with the thrill and movement of theater. The artists I’ve chosen display the drama of theater in the language of poetry.”

I remember this quality, too, about Mandingo, who performed last summer at the Black Rep’s Sound Session ‘05. Tall, dark, and muscular, with a long beard and lengthy dreadlocks, his appearance was immediately striking and impressive. Yet it was what emerged from his lips that I found truly stunning, as he moved seamlessly from a more inviting call and response type of exchange with the audience to a seething attack on the mainstream racist establishment that left you feeling like a victim of or a tormentor within the system. And his instrument? It was not limited to his voice, but to a guitar that he used too, during what I recall as a love poem.

Still Mandingo will be presenting another side to himself wholly different from all these things I remember and recorded: “Self Portrait is a one man poetry play,” explains a summary, “The audience is invited into the studio of artist Iyaba Ibo Mandingo as he reflects on his life in poetic verse while working on a self-portrait.” Specifically, explains Chris, by the time he is done performing, he will also have completed a painting of himself.

Show times begin at 7:00 on Friday March 17 and 7:30 on Saturday March18 at the Perishable Theater, 95 Empire Street in Providence. Christopher Johnson can be seen weekly on Mondays beginning at 9:00 at the Providence Black Repertory Company, 276 Westminster St., Providence.

Reza Corinne Clifton is a community organizer for high school reform at RI Children’s Crusade for Higher Education. She is also a freelance writer whose articles can be seen in Motif Magazine, The Providence American Newspaper, and at www.RezaRitesRi.com. Visit her website to read more about Christopher Johnson from a July 2005 article.