Friday, November 8, 2013

How I Met Award Winning Author, Gerald Hausman

As a society, our love for books has always been regarded as a condition of hope, wonder and an escape from everyday life. It’s a positive reinforcement of educating one’s self, but it really lets us silently fade into a vast perspective as we flip each page, entwined in the author’s universe.

My fascination with books started with Syd Hoff’s “Danny and the Dinosaur.” At age six, reading was always a wonderful lesson, but his illustrations were a particularly harmonious distraction. As Danny rode along with a dinosaur for the day, I enjoyed the fact that two friends could independently walk the streets, traveling through neighborhoods, eating ice cream along the way, catching a sporting event, goofing around at the playground. That blew my mind. Danny seemed like a kid who got things done, and I envied that. Now that I think about it, I was a bit jealous of Danny.

Many say that Dr. Seuss was the best. For me, he was more of an acid trip with words that went on and on and on. I loved Seuss’s books, don’t get me wrong, but my childhood was geared to a simpler time. The 1970s, in my community, was an innocent time for me, and “Danny and the Dinosaur” spoke to me about neighborhood relationships and the value of friendship. That tale rendered me speechless. It had managed to pull me in like no other children’s book had ever done.

I lived in a creative household and was whisked away from farm country to various cities as my mother looked for work, so it was easy to connect with Hoff’s tale of traveling from one place to the next. By age 10, my “Danny and the Dinosaur” book was tattered beyond belief from being carted around through my many travels. But I began to become disenchanted with the story as I lost my sense of community. Soon, I abandoned the idea of following Danny’s life as my guide, and the once treasured story found a place amongst the long-forgotten tales hidden in our garage. See, my mother was a book hoarder. From outdated encyclopedias and back issues of National Geographic to cookbooks, Native American perspectives and worldview lifestyles, our garage was a sea of literary chaos.

Finally, at 13, we found a little home that we stayed in for a while. It felt nice, not trekking to another town every three years.  It was then that I discovered, on one lazy afternoon, Gerald Hausman’s tale, “The Boy with the Sun Tree Bow,” in the mix of Mom’s old books. As I recall, it was a flimsy little paperback, but it grabbed my attention for some reason. I think it made sense because of the title. The book was about a boy. I was a boy. It made sense, right?

As I opened the book, the story began like a poem:

“In the beginning,
the sea was a true blue eye.
With the sun in the center by day,
and the moon in the corner by night.
Bright fishes swam in and out of the sun.
Dark turtles crossed over the moon and all was well in the world.”

But everything changed when Hausman introduced boy. With a quick-witted approach, his words stung my imagination. Boy was a mischievous adventurer with only one goal in mind: “To shoot out the sun and the moon with a single arrow.” What?!

This type of reading material was foreign to me. It was as if I had discovered violence in a beautiful way. But this was scarier; a boy taking out the sun and the moon with a single arrow?! I couldn’t wrap my head around this idea, even though I had done my share of hurtful things, as most little boys do. I’ve squished creepy crawlers, trapped rats, dashed salt on slugs and snails. I spent many youthful years zapping trails of ants with my trusty magnifying glass. I carried sticks just to slash roses off their stems when walking from school. Ah, those were the days.

But in this tale, I felt my rebellious side was being called out. Hausman weaves a scary reality: Boy walks through life chopping down Elm, Pine, Cherry, Maple, Beech, Hickory, Oak and Ash to carve his perfect bow and arrow with the intention of shooting out the sun and the moon in one flick. In doing so, boy annihilates swaths of grand forests in search of two perfect trees – the sun tree and the moon tree.

Obviously, I found boy to be the worst kid EVER! I was angry, and I must have looked bummed out in front of my mother that afternoon. She asked me some questions, and I recall saying that this book made me feel bad. She took the book out of my hand and asked why I wanted to read this story. Like all children in the face of a simple question, I responded, “I dunno.”

She told me that she had found this book at a garage sale one afternoon and realized it had a lesson in it. She felt compelled to share its message with her students, who were troubled in different ways. Mom was an educator and activist in California. Her goal in life was teaching truth in history, and she made sizable impacts in the Native American community. She had a cool way of making complex issues seem simple to everyone around her.

“The Boy with the Sun Tree Bow” ends on a very tragic note. Boy finally reaches his goal, only to discover too late the true consequence of his actions. His fate was sealed along with every natural habitat by his own doing. What a sad reality. This scarred me. It woke me up, and I found myself questioning my intentions for the first time. I was that boy for a moment and never again.

Finding My Own Dinosaur

There was a dark period in my life. My mother died at 58. I was 21 and my little brother only 18. My older brother was married with my nephew in tow. The three of us took part in separating our mother’s things. Our older brother had a house, big enough to hold many of her belongings. But with my younger brother striking out on his own, blindly moving to Seattle, combined with my couch-surfing lifestyle, a storage facility was necessary.

At 23, I had many educators who tried their very best to help me emotionally. Many who knew my mother offered money, jobs and their homes. My father was a distant memory. I dropped out of college and followed in my mother’s footsteps to become a storyteller and artist. It didn’t really pay the bills, but it made me happy and that was most important. I lived a nomadic lifestyle with no rules. It felt weird seeing old friends become successes seemingly overnight. When running into them, the incessant questions about my personal life were awkward: “So, what do you do Ramon?” “I’m a storyteller.” “So you’re a bullshitter? Hahaha!!” “Um, yeah.”
 
On occasion, I would find myself going back to Mom’s storage unit. Rifling through these old memories gave me the strength to sort out many questions and answers. And like magic, the one memory that had me teary-eyed, fell with a number of other books, laid out by my feet. I shook my head as I stared down at Gerald Hausman’s tale, “The Boy with the Sun Tree Bow.”

During 20 years of journeys, I’ve carried Hausman’s story. With every encounter, I was always told his story is so relevant to today. The scary part about this tale is it’s true.

In 2005, I was called in to be a storytelling consultant for an animation project in the University of Washington Computer Science and Engineering Department. In its infancy stage, the students were developing an animated short based on a passage through a Native American perspective. The process wasn’t as simple as checking out Native books and drawing out the story. For one, the rule of engagement with any tribal nation is to ask permission for the use of their story. For as long as I can remember, I was always told never to describe a story without the blessing of the nation involved. Plus you might not be able to share that story in a particular season or timeframe, which may cause harm to the fabric of their belief system.

Still, I decided to share Gerald Hausman’s tale with the students. I don’t know why I did it, and there was a part of me that was angry that I let go of this precious story. But everyone was so floored by the colorful elements that they wanted to start animating it right then. I was concerned about licensing and copyright issues since they planned to share it commercially after producing it for their film final. With the project on hold until we could secure permission, I volunteered to make contact with my childhood idol – if he was even still alive.

After letting my nerves get the best of me for days, I finally sat down and typed out an email, which I sent through his website. Within hours, he responded. I was floored when I read his simple note, “I think I knew your mother. Call me.”

The connection with Gerald was instantaneous. We talked for hours about the world of storytelling, about “The Boy with the Sun Tree Bow,” about my childhood and about my mother. Afterward, I put my whole heart into the animation project, guiding the students through their work. What a surreal moment in my life and very rewarding. For Gerald and I, this experience cemented our friendship forever.

From then on, we both talked about working on a project. There was a particular story Gerald had in mind. It began with a simple word, “Listener.” It was going to be a graphic novel, but then we decided to create an all-ages book. This grabbed the attention of World Wisdom/Wisdom Tales Press, eventually becoming a 4 and up read re-titled as “The Otter, The Spotted Frog and The Great Flood.

Despite working so closely together during the past eight years, in November 2013, I’ll be meeting Gerald for the first time in person as we embark on our East Coast Book Tour in Florida. He and I will get to spend a whole month playing, talking, learning and teaching kids to enjoy reading.

I would never say this to Gerald Hausman’s face, but I think I found my Dinosaur.

Ramon Shiloh  


Additional appearances with Ramon Shiloh and Gerald Hausman include:
November 13, Storytelling at the Pine Island Public Library, Bokeelia, FL 
November 10, Young at Art Children’s Museum, Fort Lauderdale, FL
November 16, Calusa Trail Museum, Pineland, FL
November 21-24, Miami Book Fair International, Storytelling Tent
 

Additional information about Gerald Hausman:
Gerald Hausman’s bestseller “How Chipmunk Got Tiny Feet” has already reached over 1 million copies in foreign and American editions. Gerald’s native stories have been used on the History Channel, NPR, Pacifica Broadcasting and Christian Science Monitor Radio. His picture book “Three Little Birds” (cowritten with Cedella Marley and illustrated by Mariah Fox) has been adapted into a musical for children, which has already put on performances in several cities, including New York City.

The University of Washington Graduate Film School made an animated short film of his book “The Boy with the Sun Tree Bow.” During this time, Gerald became close friends with artist Ramon Shiloh, who was the Native arts consultant for the film project. For the next six years, they worked together on “The Otter, the Spotted Frog & the Great Flood,” an ecological prophecy and picture book from the Creek people. The project was published by Wisdom Tales in October 2013.

Praise for Gerald’s anthologies includes The New York Times Book Review for “Tunkashila: From the Birth of Turtle Island to the Blood of Wounded Knee,” which stated, “An eloquent tribute to the first great storytellers of America.” The same review goes on to extol Hausman’s style, noting that it is “richly lyrical; his language creates a swirling, lustrous world in which his characters come triumphantly to life.”

Gerald has received awards and honors from the American Folklore Society, the American Bookseller, Children’s Protective Services, Bank Street College of Education, the National Council of Social Studies, the International Reading Association, Parent’s Choice, The Ministry of Education of Jamaica, The New York Public Library, CCBC Choices/Best of the Year and the Junior Library Guild.


Sunday, May 5, 2013

A New Way of Relocating Indian People's: Put Them In a Mall. (PART 2 of the Indian Heritage Program at Wilson-Pacific in North Seattle)

By Ramon Shiloh

Coming in June 2013

With a $695 Million Dollar Capitol Levy that passed in February 2013, Superintendent Jose Banda has slowly removed students from North Seattle's Indian Heritage Program at Wilson-Pacific, to the Middle College High School at The Northgate Mall. With the threat of an impending demolition of the site and Andrew Morrison's murals, parents and community leaders are bracing for answers.  

Jose Banda says the relocation to Northgate Mall, will be a more suitable environment for the students since the Wilson-Pacific building is in poor condition. Parents and school teachers are furious, saying it's another attempt at dislodging community and cultural affairs. Rather than using the Capitol Levy for structural improvements, Seattle Public Schools  decision to relocate children to a transient center may cause more harm than good. 

Mall crime is at an all time high and the misconception that all malls across the country are suitable gathering spots for consumers, are faced with daily crimes not only theft, but stalking, rape and murder. Not the lifestyle for a student seeking a fresh start in higher learning.  

Many parents, social activists and community supporters are outraged. But the madness of this issue has just begun. 

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Sad Truth of a Mural Artist's Fight against the Seattle Public School System (PART 1)

By Ramon Shiloh

North Seattle, Washington- On April 16-18, 2013, the Wilson-Pacific School held their Seattle Clear Sky 3rd annual Native Youth Conference. Keynote speakers,  storytellers, musicians, teachers and artists will offer three days of indigenous knowledge, education and culture in an effort to foster unconditional support for all children in need of guidance, direction and creative freedom. This year’s theme, “The Good Road of Life,” acknowledges the strengths and achievements of our city’s youth.

As the home of the American Indian Heritage Middle College High School, the event at the Wilson-Pacific campus in North Seattle also serves as the perfect rally point to inform the community about Seattle Public Schools’ decision to demolish the historic building. What is at stake is the loss of a 40-year-old legacy of tribal continuity, athleticism, indigenous-based higher learning and the destruction of works by Native American mural artist Andrew Morrison.

Native Education has Little or No Support from Seattle School Board

Prior to the proposed $695 million dollar Capital Levy (Proposition 2), which passed in February 2013, the Native American community has been calling for justice. While supposedly aiming to improve the educational future of our children, this Seattle Public Schools levy actually threatens Native American academic support services by cutting the Indian Heritage Program at Wilson-Pacific.

With just nine months in as Superintendent of Seattle Public Schools, Jose Banda has determined that making moderate structural improvements to the aging building is not a worthwhile investment. Additionally, the school board members argue that since there are fewer Native American children in attendance, the building should be demolished to make way for a newer facility that suits the demands of the 21st century. To Banda, the decision may appear to be a viable upgrade, but to North Seattle residents and community supporters it desecrates the values of Wilson-Pacific and American Indian heritage. 

On July 3,  2012, newly appointed as Superintendent of Seattle Public Schools, Jose Banda found himself at his first board meeting at the Seattle Public Schools John Stanford Center. While there, he was confronted by parents and teachers, including the Seattle Clear Sky Native Youth Council, who were ready to speak their concerns about the Capitol Levy issue and the Indian Heritage program at Wilson-Pacific. Banda addressed his first agenda item in the meeting: Demolition of the Wilson-Pacific building and relocation of the students, teachers and staff to the Middle College High School at Northgate Mall, which resides above the Express Store (a transient center) near Macy’s.

According to the Seattle Public Schools website, "Banda, who has served as Anaheim City Schools Superintendent for the past four years, was chosen following a national search for a superintendent who exhibited the desired characteristics and traits defined by the community, including: a visionary, inspirational leader; an instructional leader who has a proven track record; a knowledgeable manager and an effective communicator.”

But many parents weren't pleased with Banda’s discourse. What really sat negatively with people was that he never met with any affiliates of Wilson-Pacific nor did he visit the site for himself. “The fact that not one public school official approached me or called me or emailed me or consulted any other’s about this building to decide if demolishing should happen says everything about the mentality they’re in,” says local mural artist Andrew Morrison. “Jose Banda has never volunteered at the Indian Heritage Program, his children never grew up in Seattle Public Schools, he never knew Bob Eaglestaff and so, in no way shape or form, can any public official say that Jose Banda’s in harmony with our customs! That goes with a number of others who are in tandem with his beliefs.”

Not Feeling Defeated

Chris Jackins, co-chair of Seattle Committee to Save Schools, is a Ballard resident who has seen this scenario play out too many times. Jackins, who graduated from Ballard High School in the 1990's, remembers how he and a few fellow students found themselves on the frontlines to save their high school from being demolished after Seattle Public Schools passed a $6.9 million levy to fix it up. In time, the district had cost overruns in other projects and the monies never made it back to facilitate improvements at Ballard High School. The school board claimed that it was too old and unsafe and needed to be taken down.

Despite gathering more than 1,000 signatures, with constant appearances to school board meetings and an outpouring of community support, the school was torn down. “This tear-down made a big impression on a lot of people,” Jackins said. “A woman I went to kindergarten with went to Ballard High and her grandmother was the first graduating class, walking the same stairs her grandmother had. When she was aware of this, she was saddened and said, ‘No, they’re not going to tear down the building!’ and of course, it happened.”

Jackins believes the school district should really invest in people where they’re at and go from there. "My objection isn't necessarily that you can’t run a school that’s large and make it work. My feeling is that when you open these huge schools, it’s very deliberate and a cheaper way to run the school by closing other nearby schools and moving them into that one,” Jackins says. “So when the district entertains the thought, they’re doing a wonderful thing for all people and going back to a neighborhood system. Well, they’re not. They've now displaced thousands who are unprepared to meet the demands of a different school philosophy, and in the end, they will radically change the performance of how children learn and how school teachers teach.”

When asked what big impacts would get in the way to stop a demolition from taking place, Jackins replied, “Money seems to be the driving force behind the Indian Heritage issue. But I don’t believe these awful things need to happen. They certainly have all the intentions to bulldoze it all. But until it happens … to be honest, the school district doesn't always win.”


Sarah Sense-Wilson, an Oglala Sioux who was born and raised in Seattle, started her journey at Indian Heritage in 1995-96 as a basketball coach and has since filled up her time in other capacities at the school. Coordinator for the Clear Sky Youth Council, she was elected Chairwoman for the Urban Native Education Alliance (UNEA), an organization that empowers and bridges cultural and traditional knowledge with support services for urban Native youth.

“All of us at Indian Heritage have been opposed to this scheduled demolition from the beginning. If you look at the dark hours of our country and the ongoing plight of our people, we recognize historically in being a marginalized population where this issue is a continued attack from our past. I see this as an act of cultural genocide,” says Wilson, speaking with both pride in her work and frustration about the issue at hand. “To not gather and help our future generations come up from our program will disrupt the cultural continuity of these children and our peoples.”

Native Artist Fights to Save His Murals from Those Wanting to Erase His Name

The demolition will also destroy the historic murals of local Native artist, Andrew Morrison (Haida/Apache). Murals are a significant part of many cultures around the globe, but their power is of particular importance to individuals whose ancestors experienced that visual statement.  Since 2001, Morrison's murals, which grace the American Indian Heritage Middle College High School/Wilson Pacific campus, have paid homage to communities past, present and future of the Pacific Northwest. Considered an important community resource, Morrison's murals highlight iconic figures, such as Chief Joseph and Chief Seattle, as well as depict important events that have affected the Native community in Seattle.

Morrison is a board member of Urban Native Education Alliance. His murals and a collection of artistic works have been featured at universities, powwows and festivals, ranging from Alaska to the Southwest. Morrison has acquired an abundance of awards and commissions during his 18-year professional career, but more significantly, he has captured the hearts of his peers and elders, who in turn champion his work.

“The reason I have lasted this long creatively is community support – the art community, and more in the Native community,” Morrison explains with gratitude. “The community says my murals touch their lives and make them feel at ease and calm. Some people look at my artwork and say when they wake up in the morning that it makes their day a little brighter.”

When Morrison completed the Mural of Chief Seattle in 2002, King 5’s Evening Magazine featured an interest piece on his life and artistry. On the following day of the unveiling, one public official who elevated the spirits at Wilson-Pacific was Mayor Greg Nickels. “That was the one time I ever met him and he was so inspired, respectful and very sincere about my work,” Morrison recalls. “It was great. He stuck around for an hour; he wasn't rushed and congratulated me. The mural in height was 25-feet tall and Nickels spoke from a sincere place by saying, 'Thank you for doing the largest commemoration of our founding forefather and namesake.’ He stood there during the unveiling and spoke from the heart about Chief Seattle. It was the greatest day of my life.” 

Now, with Seattle Public Schools' scheduled demolition, Morrison is fighting to save his life's work, which has transformed the community of North Seattle into one of the most visited destinations in the Pacific Northwest. On February 25th, 2013, the cover of the Seattle Times featured Morrison poised in front of his mural of Chief Joseph with the blaring headline, "Beloved Native American Murals at Wilson-Pacific May Disappear." 

Morrison takes issue with how Seattle Public Schools is working with him and the Wilson-Pacific community to identify ways to preserve the murals if the school is replaced. It isn't uncommon for works of art to be taken down or rerouted for public display. In fact, with a healthy intention of community involvement, with the artists approval in tow, the transition can benefit many. What's disturbing Morrison is that he is now facing scrutiny from Seattle Public School officials of a unanimous decision to have all of his murals digitally reproduced and relocated without his consent. 

"The reason I've excluded myself from public officials who I thought had the best interests on this issue in the last six months is because they've blatantly lied to my face about the preservation of my murals," Morrison explains. "Where they're now going, is through an avenue of slander and defamation of character, and all of a sudden I look like a disgruntled artist. First of all, to digitally reproduce my work is a joke! And the February article everyone has read makes it seem like I'm eliminating myself from protecting my work, when they have bullied me out of protecting my work." 

In the end, North Seattle residents and those who are involved with the American Indian Heritage Middle College High School program at Wilson-Pacific are bracing for radical changes in the months to come. “The hook, line and sinker of this story coming out and my voice being heard is that the district and Seattle Public Schools officials who have wrecked the fabric of our community underestimate me, my knowledge and my common sense and my subject matter,” Morrison says. “Believing that squatters are in the parking lot and thinking the place is vacant, believing that the Indians left, believing that there’s no kids there anymore, believing I’m a primitive person, believing that I have this rebel nature, believing I’m this vindictive angry person, when they have ignited the wick for us to panic. And out of all of this madness, not once have I spun out of control and showed them any hostility or disrespect. I am an artist. I let my work speak for itself.”

© 2013 Ramon Shiloh 

 


For more information on the issues and affairs of Indian Heritage Program at Wilson-Pacific, click on the links below













 

Friday, December 16, 2011

The Overture of Responsibility and Symbolic Generosity in a Time of War



by Ramon Shiloh

I am an American Soldier. I am a Warrior and a member of a team.
I serve the people of the United States, and live the Army Values.
I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade.
I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills.
I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself. I am an expert and I am a professional.
I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy, the enemies of the United States of America in close combat.
I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of life. I am an American Soldier.
- The U.S. Soldier‟s Creed (Army)

Within every branch of the United States military exists an ethos that empowers the soldiers to focus on their allegiance to their country. Most of the armed service men and women leave loved ones behind for extended periods of time, only to return mentally disciplined, psychologically damaged, physically injured or as casualties of war. Their willingness to enlist, engage and die in defense of their country, especially during an active war, is fueled by an enormous amount of strength and courage. Yet, those who choose to join the military do not consider it an act of bravery, but rather an honor and privilege that allows them to be able to serve and protect.
“For me, it was pretty simple,” explains Major Dexter Brookins, who has dedicated 22 years of service to his country through the Army. “I joined as an 18year-old in 1987 and back then a drill sergeant scared you just the way they looked or their tone of voice. So, for me, it was easy to break me down in order to conform to be an American soldier.”

As a Battalion Operations Officer stationed in South Korea, Maj. Brookins is in charge of readying his battalion for battle, even in times of peace. “I know the war ended over 50 years ago, but the benefit of being in Korea is to make this place a better country. My son may join the military and be stationed in Korea. As I make better relations with the South Koreans, I want to make the bridge better for him if he chooses to make it here. On an international scale, I know we're making countries better. I've been to Afghanistan and visited our military and I think Korea is an example of what Afghanistan was. In about 50 years from now, I think Afghanistan will be built up the same as Korea is today. So, as I serve around the world, I feel I am making a positive impact in somebody else's backyard.”
Still, after nearly seven years of combat in the Middle East, many members of the military feel they are not being recognized for their service to this country. Maj. Brookins believes that the mainstream American media plays a large role in this crisis and has a responsibility to rectify the situation.

“When you look at your major news channels, you see more stories about our injured brethren than the positive news stories that our service members are carrying out. I know that the media is focused on whatever is hot today, but service members are saying, 'give us that time slot' and go out there and conduct those interviews where our service members are deployed and talk to their families,” says Major Brookins.

His views are supported by a recent study conducted by Maeve Hebert of Hart Research and Sean Aday and Steven Livingston from the School of Media and Public Affairs at George Washington University, who analyzed the objectivity and biases of 1,820 wartime stories that have aired on the five major American news networks (ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN and Fox News Channel) and on the Arab satellite channel, Al Jazeera, since 2003. Results showed that the overwhelming number of stories broadcast by Al Jazeera and the American networks were fairly balanced and supportive of the American-led war effort. Yet, data also revealed broadcasters painted a sanitized picture of a war largely devoid of blood, dissent and diplomacy.

To combat this, Maj. Brookins says he “encourages our soldiers to go out there and tell their own stories as much as possible. I'll be leaving next month and I'll be visiting my nieces' school to talk about my military life. That‟s one way I can send my positive message,” he says.
Dureil Farnell, who serves as the Entertainment Program Manager for the Marine Corps Community Services (MCCS) in Okinawa, Japan, says that even as a civilian employee of the U.S. Department of Defense (DOD) and the son of a father who served in the Air Force, he took for granted the sacrifices our soldiers make for our country. “I was just like every American, oblivious to the extent of what the military actually goes through,” he notes.

With experience as the head of an entertainment company under his belt, Farnell accepted the DOD position, which has allowed him to spend the past 11 years obtaining fresh entertainers on a demanding schedule to offer a gratifying diversion for troops who are ready for deployment. “I understood how the military works and the paces they go through to serve their country, making us safe and comfortable,” he says. “When I recognize this job means a lot to those who serve is when I recognized how important it was to serve in the terms of what I do.”

Civilian Frank Tagatac can relate to Farnell‟s experiences. As an Air Force brat, Tagatac constantly moved around and established relationships all over the world in the military community. He says his role as the Pacific Regional Entertainment Coordinator for the Armed Forces Entertainment (AFE) program become even more personally gratifying after 9-11 because it allowed him to support the large number of troops fighting for freedom.
“Just being a part of these events and personally knowing those troops over there fighting, I think it‟s important to acknowledge our brothers and sisters in combat and show them we care,” Tagatac explains.

Farnell has partnered with Tagatac and Captain Cody Gravitt, Pacific/Western Hem Circuit Manager for the Air Force, to encourage more American civilians to get involved through the programs offered by the AFE, which operates under the DOD. Established in 1951, the AFE provides live entertainment in an effort to enhance the quality of life for U.S. military personnel stationed overseas.

Because of its government sponsorship, artists who partner with the AFE often find themselves entertaining the soldiers who are serving on the frontline. During WWII, the Camp Shows
program recruited and transported thousands of well-known celebrities to entertain the troops. Today, AFE hosts at least 1,200 shows around the world each year, reaching more than 500,000 personnel stationed at 270 military installations. From muddy makeshift stages to show stopping extravaganzas, the performers bring a piece of home to those stationed so far away from all that is warm and familiar, while also providing service members a well-deserved break from the action.

“These festivals and events provide a number of different benefits,” explains Capt. Gravitt, whose duties include contracting acts to entertain deployed and overseas service members, as well as their families, for all the military branches. “The fact that we have the resources and capability to bring in acts that cover a whole spectrum of musical tastes and talents is great for our service members who wouldn't have been open to it before. But, that's really secondary to what I consider the primary issue which is that we don't go to war as individuals; we go with members of our unit. And, those who are left behind are left with other families, dependants and spouses, which is the community that allows us to succeed while the service members are gone.

That sense of community needs to be established in order for growth in every relationship.”
Capt. Gravitt asserts that a handshake can make difference in making better relations with all neighbors. “Just a simple handshake and a gesture of thanks for what people are doing serves as a gentle reminder that someone out there appreciates their service. The single greatest thing that a person can do for their country is to stay as informed as you can, stay out of harm's way and be cognizant of each other. Whatever the output is for one another, it's to recognize that togetherness is a national endeavor.”

The newest act to join forces with the AFE is three-time Grammy nominee Neo Soul artist Dwele, who recently wrapped a two week, 11-show tour through Japan and South Korea. Setting up the tour schedule took nearly a year to organize, but leaders from Dwele‟s camp, as well as the AFE, fought hard to make it happen.
“Dwele is actually the first celebrity AFE has independently booked on its own, separate from our partnership with the USO,” explains Farnell, acknowledging the enormous benefit of having someone of Dwele‟s caliber attached the program‟s marquee. “Now, we have leverage to bring in other high-profile names.”

Ron Estill, head of RT Music Group, says the collaboration is mutually beneficial. “We have been looking at new ways to guide Dwele in unique demographics to strengthen his resume, but also with a cause at hand,” he explains. “It's one thing to see these events when you‟re flipping channels and celebrities are doing USO performances. But, you really never think about how much it is touching those soldiers until you are in the interior of it. Artists should know there is a greater cause and it starts with tours like this.”

Dwele kicked off the tour at the annual MCCS Camp Foster Festival in Okinawa, Japan, on October 18. In his role as regional entertainment coordinator supervising more than 72 regional bases, Tagatac played a central role in bringing Dwele and his band to the soldiers. He hopes this will help pave the way for bringing in more acts to remote, isolated locations where troops are not able to venture far to see live acts.

“If there are places that cannot have those Dwele moments due to staff or base support, AFE sends them comedians, actors and professional athletes, with handshakes in tow,” he says. “Bringing entertainment to the troops has been very successful in offering morale assistance, offering a taste of home and making them feel we care and are thinking about them.
Performing in these many venues, I feel like I'm tapping into a new market. It's different and fun and humbling at the same time. It's really beautiful to perform for the troops because when I get off the stage, I can really feel what they are feeling,” Dwele explains as he takes in the sights of two gun-toting soldiers walking the perimeter of Camp Casey in Dongducheon, South Korea.
“As much as I appreciate them, in return they're embracing my music and that feels good. When you look at the routine they go through, how strict their life is, it seems like everything here is work-work-work. But, when they get dressed and come out to have a good time, that's when I feel the need to step it up and work for them, keep their mind off of things.”

Ahmed Walker, a Sergeant in the Marine Corps stationed in Okinawa, Japan, says the troops are very appreciative of the sincerity Dwele as shown on the stage. “It was a damn good show and everybody I saw in the crowd definitely enjoyed themselves. I think Dwele brings out an element to the music industry that is lacking right now. With everybody so caught up in voiceover this and voiceover that, in reality, nobody can sing anymore. When you get a raw piece of talent like Dwele, who can hold a live show without any vocal assistance, it's a throwback to the old school and what my pops was listening to, but with a modern twist. He combines it real nice.”

This is exactly the response Estill was hoping Dwele would receive, noting that this type of collaboration “has been in the back of my mind for quite some time, not just for Dwele, but for any one of our other artists, too. The apex of it all is when Dwele landed the campaign for the new McDonald's McCafĂ© commercial. I thought, „Well, now, this could be a perfect marriage in getting my vision and awareness off the ground!”

Unfortunately, the timing was off and Estill was unable to enlist the full support of McDonald's corporate weight before the tour began. But, Estill remains hopeful that fast food giant will recognize the enormous benefits to be gained in supporting our troops. “I decided I needed to make these two weeks happen, go back home and show McDonald's the blueprint and say, "Hey, this is what happened and you need to be a part of this and get engaged.”

Estill admits that setting up the partnership wasn't easy, but the work was well worth it if this unity with AFE encourages other industry execs to support a cause that could potentially be a positive for music labels who rarely put their money where their mouth is.
“From what I've witnessed on this tour, there's a huge disconnect between the great things that MCCS, AFE and the Morale, Welfare and Recreation (MWR) programs are creating and what people need to know about. When I meet the troops, I reflect about how this is such an underutilized platform in the sense of brightening someone's frame of mind. This platform needs to be utilized, because with more recognition, it will place a sense of duty in the minds of those ready to uplift unnoticed areas.”

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Combing Through the Artistic Weave


In my forties, I'm beginning to wonder if this is my slowing-down-period.
I don't know.

I'm constantly on the go. And in some cases, I'm struggling as to why I'm burning like a torch in all directions.
I facilitate, mentor and negotiate in various arenas to pay the bills.

As a Chef, Artist, Storyteller, Illustrator, Activist and Public Speaker, I enjoy the work I do.

I'm realizing the older I get, I become more in demand. It's a fun discovery though: meeting new people, meeting new challenges artistically and meeting important deadlines to strengthen client relationships.

But there's moments when I feel like slowing down; pulling the reigns and organize my thoughts. Cause as an artist, your professionalism can leave you when you're scattered, drowning in a sea of projects when you take on too many tasks.

I need to stay focused.
I need to prioritize better.
I need to sleep more.
I need to slim down my scattered routine and be more consistent in my work and finish old projects.
I need to ignore distractions that hinder motivation.
I need to make time for myself.
I need to balance my work ethic with my lady.

I need to figure out what this all means at the age of 41.