The Body Politic Film Reminds Us Why We Need Joy to Eradicate Violence

On Saturday, September 2 my life changed forever. I got a call that my dad had been shot and killed.

In the weeks since I’ve been through all sorts of emotions. One day, I’ll dedicate some time to sharing more on what this experience has been like but today is not that day.

One thing I will discuss, however, is the important role that community - and the joy found therein - has played in my healing journey. Not a moment has passed when my family and I haven’t been surrounded by love and support. For that, we are eternally grateful.

Though I have been limiting my social interaction lately as a means of self-care, I was intrigued when an invitation arrived in my inbox to screen a film during this year’s Heartland Film Festival.

The film, THE BODY POLITIC, directed by Baltimore native and filmmaker Gabriel Francis Paz Goodenough, follows Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott as he fights to curb gun homicides in his beloved city through a grassroots initiative called Group Violence Reduction Strategy (GVRS).

CLICK TO WATCH: THE BODY POLITIC available to view online now through Oct. 11

CLICK TO WATCH: THE BODY POLITIC available to view online now through Oct. 11

Mayor Brandon Scott poses in Baltimore City Hall

Baltimore, like my beloved home of Indianapolis, has been plagued by record-breaking homicide numbers for years on end. It is a problem that seems to have no end in sight.

The film expounds on this source of frustration as viewers see the media, other politicians and members of the community slam Scott’s idealistic yet dogged approach to stay the course despite the lack of an immediate fix to the problem of violent crime.

THE BODY POLITIC, does a great job of balancing this by consciously showcasing elements of healing and joy.

The Body Politic is a metaphor by which the people of a certain place are seen as one body,

reliant on one other for the well-being of the whole.

As one of the film’s central figures, Erricka Bridgeford, the Co-Founder of the Baltimore Peace Movement (formerly named Baltimore Ceasefire 365), points out, “Murder is persistent, so we have to be persistent.”

Activist Erricka Bridgeford sits near the site where a friend was recently murdered.

She has a smudge stick to bless the space.

What I appreciated most about this film, is that it found a way to shine a light on this major issue without sanitizing things or further triggering its viewers with grotesque imagery. What it did for me was remind me that in this fight to eradicate violence, we need everyone involved to make a difference and that JOY as Bridgeford said so well, fucks up murder’s plan.

I walked out of the theatre feeling affirmed and inspired. Yes, my grief is real and heavy but there is yet space for JOY in the midst of all of that. Yes, this is a multilayered issue and No, it will not be solved overnight but if we work together we can see a different world for ourselves both now and in the future.

On What Ifs and Real Life

This past week, I traveled to Cambridge with a group of folks from Indy to visit the Harvard Graduate School of Design to hear from students of Toni Griffith, Professor in Practice of Urban Planning and the brains behind Legacy Lands| Protopian Futures. 

Legacy Lands| Protopian Futures is a multi-disciplinary design studio at the Harvard Graduate School of Design that imagined the future possibilities for Indianapolis’ historic Indiana Avenue neighborhoods if racial segregation, eminent domain, and slum clearance policies had not disrupted their existence. 

The concept was inspired by the word pronoia (the opposite of paranoia) meant to describe an exuberant feeling that the entire world is rooting for you.

Over nine hours on a Friday afternoon, a group of brilliant design students led by this brilliant Black woman, showed us the fruits of their imagination in such a generous, genuine and generative way. 

• What if, instead of tearing Black neighborhoods apart a conservationist org had been formed to protect them?

• What if Ray Crowe and Oscar Robertson led community engagement efforts for the city and Ray Crowe became head of economic development and they leveraged that power to bring resources back to Lockefield making it a hub for the sports industry with a direct benefit to Black residents? 

• What if Indigenous/Native American people were never expelled from the state of Indiana and their treaties with the American government were honored? 

• What if instead of dissolving, Black-owned hospitals in Indianapolis joined forces and created their own wellness network (which included access to doulas, herbal medicine, and other community-based healing modalities)? 

And that’s just a glimpse of what they shared. 

It was amazing to see where their minds went imagining a space in time where instead of active harm, Black people in Indianapolis existed in an environment that cherished them and championed their collective success and well-being. 

At times, the room was heavy with the collective weight of truth. Harm did and still does occur. 

We have witnessed and still live in the wake of its impact. 

Just that morning we talked about the horrific injustice dealt our fellow community member by a racist (proven/documented) organization in the form of what can simply be described as an attempted public humiliation ritual. 

Even in that heaviness, inspiration was felt. 

It led to conversation and more imagination. 

Which parts of this COULD we materialize? Yes, there are roadblocks but is it worth a shot to try? 

I talked with a friend of mine on my way back home about the trip. She kinda scoffed at the idea of sitting around at this prestigious white institution to dream about what happened if racism didn’t get in the way of Black people’s lives.

I understood why she would say that though it feels super deflating.

Lots more to unpack and consider. 

Not A Review: You Should Go See Love You Reckless

About Not A Review: I enjoy cultural experiences and sometimes I write about them. I like what I like and though I consider my thoughts to be solid critique, I would never front like I’m some damn Siskel & Ebert.

When people say there’s nothing to do in Indianapolis, I feel things. I feel a little sad, like… “Oh man, they must not know people.” Often, I feel very annoyed, like… “Wow… have they bothered to look around before making such a silly statement?” Anywhoo… I find that there is tons to do here.

The tricky part about navigating the culture scene in Indy is that you have to know where to look to find the shit you’re into (Shameless Self Promotion: Look at my IG Stories. I share event fliers all the time.) and you have to be a master scheduler because what happens a lot is that, so many people will have things all at the same time. For example, this past Saturday night alone, there was an Afro-futurist book release/fashion show in honor of Maurice Broadus, a burlesque extravaganza featuring Renee King and Ankh Productions latest offering, Love You Reckless, showed at Storefront Theatre. I wish I could have cloned myself to be at all three. Ultimately, I chose Love You Reckless because I bought tickets as soon as I heard about it. I was locked in from jump.

I have minimal words to describe my experience at Love You Reckless as I am still processing what the fuck I saw. This is high praise. I am so curious about the process used to create such a thing.

I can say this: Love You Reckless was a time-traveling, dimension-hopping BDSM-lite jaunt through the treacherous terrain that is romantic devotion. It was funky, bordering the absurd. Jamaal McCray (writer/director/actor) and Chandra Lynch (actor) took us on a wild theatrical trip. I want to see everything these two dream up. We need more opportunities to explore and push the boundaries. I appreciate Jamaal and Chandra for exploring new terrain.

Love You Reckless is showing at the Storefront Theatre Fri-Sun until April 17th. Click here to learn more and purchase tickets.

Not A Review: Mud Row Goes Deep at Fonseca Theatre

About Not A Review: I enjoy cultural experiences and sometimes I write about them. I like what I like and though I consider my thoughts to be solid critique, I would never front like I’m some damn Siskel & Ebert.

Who are you? What do you want? How far are you willing to go to have it? These questions are at the core of Domonique Morisseau’s Mud Row, her latest work, which tackles issues of intergenerational trauma, race and class set against the backdrop of urban renewal aka gentrification. 

Mud Row (running until March 20) is the first show up at Fonseca for their 2022 Season of Healing and features an all Black cast.  I recognized many of the show’s stars as familiar faces (to me) on the local arts scene: Lakesha Lorene (Frances), Aniqua ShaCole (Regine), Marcus Elliot (Davin) and Brenton Anderson (Tyreik). I was introduced to Anika Akua (Toshi) and Jacquelyn Owens (Elsie) who I hope to see on many more stages soon. 

The play, which flows back and forth between historical eras, follows the stories of two sets of sisters who undoubtedly love each other despite the fact that they are diametrically opposed on critical points about what is important in life. With Frances and Elsie, it’s the battle between Frances’ Malcolm-esque penchant for freedom fighting and Elsie’s Dubois inspired climb up the ladder of social mobility. In the present Frances and Elsie’s descendants - Toshi and Regine clash over whether the past has any spiritual merit or whether it should be abandoned altogether to remain connected to a more solid, material reality. 

Who is right? Who is wrong? I think the answer, if there is one, boils down to what (if anything) you think is worth saving… worth fighting for. 

I found myself pondering so many things watching Mud Row. How far can you really go without a connection to your history? Does the past have the potential to hold you back? Is it possible to reconcile with those who have consistently caused you harm? 

I don’t know that it’s doable, or even necessary, to find nice, neat answers to these inquiries. Thankfully, Mud Row doesn’t try to and instead elevates the potential of grace to make rocky roads navigable because after all… don’t nobody wanna be stuck in the mud. 

Of the various relationship dynamics presented, I found myself most drawn in by Toshi and Tyreik’s deep and abiding love for one another. I appreciate the depth each actor brought to the role. 

All in all, I thought the Fonseca crew did a wonderful job with this piece and I look forward to seeing where else they go this season. 

A couple of technical notes: 

• The face masks the actors wore made it hard to hear what they were saying despite a mic being taped to their faces. This is a good indicator to ENUNCIATE AND PROJECT way more than what would typically be acceptable. 

• The tech crew needs to get tight on that last scene going into intermission. There’s nothing like having the mystery of an intense moment ruined by seeing the players scurry off stage as the lights are coming up. 

On CRT in the Classroom

Sigh… lawmakers all over the country are seeking to legislate the teaching of true American history under the guise of this critical race theory boogeyman shit. 

Reporter Emanuele Berry summed it up perfectly when they said, “The line of what's acceptable to say about race and racism in America, it moved. It's as though we were having one argument, and then the terms changed… This backlash, it's not surprising. This is what America does…”

First off, I am not going to explain CRT in this blog. There are other places to go for that. But I can pretty much assure you that no kids are being taught this in K-12 school and depending on their major, this ain’t coming up at the university level either. Teachers barely have enough time to instruct on the bare necessities - English, math, and whatever else is needed to fulfill the antiquated requirements handed down to them by the powers that be so yea… no room on the schedule for teaching the fundamentals of systemic racism. 

However, because America is what it is and sensationalism, tribalism and xenophobia rule our collective consciousness as a nation - groups of people have become enraged at the thought that their precious children will be made uncomfortable by being exposed to the notion that things in the United States are not fair for everyone. 

People are enraged on both sides - those who want to ensure their children are exposed to the truth and those who want to ensure anyone responsible for sharing that truth is persecuted by the rule of law. 

Here’s my take… I fully support those who are in protest of this sort of legislation. (Indiana House Bill 1134 is one example.)

I also think that no matter what happens at your local statehouse, if you have children in your life it is your responsibility to teach them at home. 

Growing up in the 90’s and 2000’s, the public school education I received on racism, Black History or any related topics was mediocre. With the exception of my third and sixth grade teachers (both Black women), most of my educators relegated our learning around those topics to the month of February, at best, or at worst ignored the topics altogether. In high school, I pointed out to my history teacher the blatant issue with her lesson plan not including the chapters from our book that covered slavery, civil rights, etc. She was annoyed and asked me to leave the class. She called my mother to complain about my behavior. My mother was annoyed about the call and said, “Tell that lady not to call me about that silly shit again.” We both laughed. 

My upbringing was challenging for a few reasons but one constant that was drilled into me from birth was a deep pride in my people and my culture. I did not grow up feeling shame about being Black and did not see it as a limitation. The limits came from the outside world and over time and through lots of support from my family, loved ones and mentors I was taught how to navigate those barriers. 

The key for me was not having to rely on the tools of the oppressor for that knowledge. 

My grandmother had a collection of encyclopedias that she taught me how to use for research. I would then give oral reports back to her on what I’d learned about George Washington Carver, Mary McCleod Bethune and other historical figures she’d introduced me to. This was when I was a first grader. At an AME summer camp she sent my siblings and I to a few years later, I learned the Black National Anthem (Lift Every Voice) and we were drilled on Black History facts all the time. 

My mom, big cousin and other parental figures often exposed us to different cultures so we grew a deep sense of appreciation for all people and were aware of how systems of oppression worked against the marginalized. I watched them demonstrate what it looked like to champion justice in big and small ways. It wasn’t always a lecture or a book report sort of situation - their choices helped inform my own personal understanding of justice. For example, growing up my mother did not tolerate speaking down on other groups of people based on their race, religion, socioeconomic background, sexuality, gender… none of that shit was appropriate ever. Watching her speak up about that sort of thing let me know what was right. Decades later, she is leading diversity efforts within her corporate sphere of influence. 

My family didn’t have a lot of resources and no one had a college degree back then. Many of the things we had access to were free or very affordable - the library, community centers, Black magazines like Ebony, Jet and Essence, historical movies and shows, etc. The point is, they used everything they had to instill in me a deep desire for learning and justice early on so by the time I got to the classroom, I was unfazed by the ways in which the school system was lacking. I didn’t expect much in the first place. 

I am not saying stop fighting if that is what you feel led to do. By all means, fight on. 

What I am saying is that while you have the time and opportunity, gather up your young people and show them what you know. Go out into the world with them and learn new things together and encourage them to choose justice daily in their personal interactions. 

If it is to be, the revolution will begin in the minds and hearts of the youth and happen by their hands. It is up to us to help them prepare. 

That preparation cannot be left to chance. 

Here is a short list of helpful (and hopefully easily accessible) resources to get started:

• Check out books at your local library and make it a regular outing! Many library systems have incentivized reading programs for youth. Here’s a cool reading list for elementary aged children. 

• Attend cultural events in your town and make it a learning opportunity. In Indianapolis, where I live, the International Marketplace Coalition is a good place to start. 

• Listen to this episode of This American Life and discuss it as a family. Allow your kids to speak freely about what comes up for them. (This activity may be more suitable for pre-teen/teenaged children)

• Connect with your local NAACP chapter or other social activist group to see if there are any actions, demonstrations or workshops taking place you can participate in. 

On Desire and Frivolity…

I never know what I want when people inquire as to what I’d like to receive for my birthday, Christmas or other gifting occasion. It’s not that I don’t want things. It’s that the things I truly want can’t be bought. And the things that can be bought are far too frivolous for me to feel OK about asking for. I mean, I do want a fur coat and somewhere nice to wear it but what a stupid fucking thing to say out loud. 

For most of my life, my environment dictated that I be immensely grateful and cautiously desirous. Something about children in Africa going hungry and people in Hell wanting ice water meant that what I wanted wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things. But that didn’t stop me from fantasizing, imagining and ideating about all sorts of things… most of which I was careful to keep hidden inside. Now, I’m at the point of giving myself permission to be radically direct, with myself and the universe, about my petitions. 

I want a solution for my self sabotage. I want the feeling that comes with knowing that everyone I love is doing well and not in danger of suffering. I want harmony of heart and mind that goes uninterrupted by weariness. I want to be as free on the dancefloor as a white girl with a limitless bar tab and a chauffeur to carry her home. I want to know what it feels like to do whatever the fuck I want without a care in the world. I want to try out every dream in my head and follow them each as far as they will take me. I want to be anything and anyone I desire. I want to be free. I want to be loved unabashedly by someone whose presence makes my heart flutter. 

I want it all and I want more. 

Not a Review: Clint Breeze S.E.L.F

This post was adapted from liner notes written by me to accompany the album S.E.L.F by Clint Breeze

The vocals on this record are challenging to me. It was one of the first things I said to Clint Breeze when he asked me what I thought of his latest musical offering S.E.L.F (Soul. Evolution. Love. Fear.) over cocktails at Living Room Lounge. Then he told me it was his first time singing. That, in many ways, changed things for me.

Before we go any further into these liner notes I suppose it’s important to tell you who the hell I am. I am Ebony Marie Chappel - a sometimes writer, lifelong community servant and full-time lover of more things than we have room to mention…one of those things is music. So when the musical institution that is  Carrington Clint Breeze Clinton asked if I’d be willing to write a few words for him, I said yes. Now, I am not an expert at writing about music so I can’t tell you much about the production and harmonies and whatnot. I can however talk to you about how this music makes me feel.

Learning that S.E.L.F was Clint’s first time singing struck a chord with me. Especially given the fact that outside of an endearing phone call with his grandmother and an excellently placed saxophone performance from the legend Rob Dixon, this whole record is all on him. That level of unabashed self-exploration was no doubt spurred on by the isolation and radical disruption of our current age. And that’s not just me waxing poetic. Pay attention to the lyrics. Another note… although there aren’t many other artists featured on this record, I don’t think something like this comes to be outside of, or apart from, community. More on that later.

I took S.E.L.F on a ride with me one solitary Friday night floating from Fonseca Theatre in Haughville to a smooth loop around Monument Circle before routing over to Broad Ripple Avenue. It was balmy out and I rolled my windows all the way down to catch whatever breeze the stingy winds had to offer. Clint’s flawed and earnest vocals paired with his eclectic musical choices provided a perfect soundtrack for the moment. I landed at the Jazz Kitchen as the last track was wrapping up. “Perfect timing,” I thought before walking into one of my favorite music venues for the first time since the pandemic. A few moments later I’d realize just how serendipitous it all was as I sat down just in time to catch most of Sleepy Floyd’s Juneteenth revue which fittingly featured a performance from none other than the man I’m here writing about. And I don’t know if it’s coincidental or just the spirit of Naptown but it all felt good and right and promising.

Clint and I embraced and shortly after he took to the stage, backing vocalist PsyWrn Simone on the drums. Rob Dixon was there too. And so many more. Rocking with each other in the pursuit of their own dreams and the collective desire to see art come to life. The moment reminded me of some silly convo about the lack of a Naptown sound. Anyone with a clue would know the true sound of Naptown is collaboration.

Back to S.E.L.F though. I didn’t know it but I needed to hear Clint tell me to slow my ass down, face it and clean the SPAM out of my spirit. S.E.L.F is here as a generous invitation to each of you to do the same.

Rock out, take care of yourself and love one another.

Listen to S.E.L.F here

About Not A Review: I enjoy cultural experiences and sometimes I write about them. I like what I like and though I consider my thoughts to be solid critique, I would never front like I’m some damn Siskel & Ebert.

Not a Review: Thundercat at 2021 Indy Jazz Fest

I’m not a huge Thundercat fan. That’s not because of a lack of interest but just a matter of time. I think he’s all the amazing things people say he is but I haven’t had the time to thoroughly investigate the depths of his musical prowess. 

I'm the type of person who gets kinda obsessed about stuff. If I like something… I REALLY like that shit. I get so into whatever I’m liking at the moment that I don’t make a ton of space for new things until I’m finally ready to move on. After this past weekend at Indy Jazz Fest, Thundercat has moved up to the top of my obsession list. 

I hauled ass across town to get to Garfield Park Sunday night to see Thundercat’s show for a few reasons. I was extremely curious and I also wanted to spend time with my sister Renee who is a legit fan. I am always down to hang out with her because there’s never a dull moment when we’re together. Seriously, I would buy a ticket to watch paint dry if she was gonna be there too. 

I got to the ampitheatre with minutes to spare and when Thundercat stepped on stage the atmosphere shifted. This was the moment we’d been waiting for… the die-hards and the uninitiated alike. The stage lights casted a fluorescent shadow on his eyelids and a rainbow across the drummer’s cymbals. Was this rock and roll magic or the result of me running around town all day on an empty stomach? Who knows. 

The band started to play and I couldn’t believe the things I was hearing. Like, the music was invasive... the type of shit you feel in your toes and fingertips. I was blown away by the lyricism too. He sang songs about friendship, love, empathy and video games. How sweet?!

I looked around me and saw all kinds of people enjoying themselves… utterly entranced. It made me want to ask him all sorts of questions. Questions like, when did you decide to change your life and share these gifts with the world? Or, what does it feel like to see people dance erratically, make out, scream  to your music? (Yes. All these things happened. Simultaneously.) 

The band kept rocking and before I knew it the show was almost over. Already? I was disappointed but also slightly relieved. My senses were in overload anyway. 

At the end, Thundercat said he loved us and played one of his last songs two times in a row. How kind?! We begged for an encore but once a stage hand came on to start removing instruments it was obvious that our request had been denied. Bummer. 

We packed up and headed home. I was spent in the best of ways. I felt a little better about the fucked up predicaments we as a society find ourselves in presently too. For a moment, with my bare feet in the grass, the stars shining above my head and the sounds wafting past my ears... shit felt alright in the world. Is that rock and roll magic too? Maybe… but we need all the magic we can get. 

About Not A Review: I enjoy cultural experiences and sometimes I write about them. I like what I like and though I consider my thoughts to be solid critique, I would never front like I’m some damn Siskel & Ebert.