We've Got The Jazz...Right Here In Harlem

A group of chums from Columbia's Graduate School of Journalism headed uptown to 149th and St. Nicholas Avenue to celebrate our end of the semester @ St. Nick's Pub in Harlem's Sugar Hill neighborhood.

The historic Pub is a local watering hole for musicians and they come from near and far, whether it's to tap-tap-tap on the keys, strum tunes on the guitar, toot on the horns or croon into the mic.

Back in the day, greats such as Duke Ellington's piano player, Lucky Roberts, Art Tatum and Joe Jordan had jam sessions in this very place, where they brought down the house.

Some would say that the ghosts of yesterday's jazz were in the house last night as the Donald Smith Sextet set the mood for an evening of smooth grooves.

Obama's 1st 100 Days

HE’S CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AND WON THE RACE TO THE WHITE HOUSE. AND AFTER A GRUELING 20 MONTHS ON THE ROAD, INCOMING PRESIDENT-ELECT OBAMA HAS EVEN MORE WORK TO DO NOW THAT HE’S BEEN ELECTED. SIA NYORKOR REPORTS FROM MANHATTAN.

Teenage Love Affair Revisited

So I finally got to see the loves of my life...wait for it...New Kids on the Block.

Me and my old high school pal, Jaime McNally (4 Musketeers 4eva!), met up at Madison Square Garden to swoon, lust and see our teenage heartthrobs in the flesh. Yes, I admit, I was hopelessly in love with all the guys but especially Jordan Knight. Years later, I stood in the sea of thousands of thirty-something year old females and found myself lip--syncing every word, to every song. Step by Step, Please Don't Go Girl, Right Stuff, Cover Girl and of course...Hanging Tough.

And for once, I wasn't the only black girl in love with NKOTB's blue-eyed soul. I was surrounded by sistas taken back in the moment. I caught a few eyes and we winked at each other knowingly. For a fleeting moment, I wondered where were all these sistas when I was growing up and teased mercilessly for being an oreo, just because I like the New Kids?

Ehhhh...who cares? Do you and live your life. I'm living mine and enjoying my NKOTB. Here's a peek from my nostalgic night out.


-30-

Last Night's Election...An Emotional Moment

Yes, I'm aware of the rules...I'm a Journalist and I'm not supposed to show too much emotion...just cover the story, get both sides and don't show personal opinion. But last night, when Senator Barack Obama won the election and it was announced that he would become President of the United States of America, I had to take a moment and gather myself.

I had my work cut out for me in that I was covering Times Square in Manhattan where tens of thousands of people swarmed after hearing the news. There really was no room or time to pause with the hordes of celebrators cheering and dancing in the streets but I managed to pop into a cafe where I let the tears flow.

Even as I sit here and write this, I am overcome with emotion. For me, it's not so much that Obama is a black man in America who overcame major obstacles to win the top position of commander-in-chief. It goes much deeper than that. I share a similar background with Obama in that we are both children of immigrants. My father is from Liberia. Obama's father, Barack Sr., hails from Kenya. And although Obama was not close to his father growing up, he remains in close touch with his father's stepmother, Sarah, who still lives there. He calls her his grandmother.

In his book, Dreams from My Father, Obama shares the dreams his father had, for making a life in America. Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned and he passed away before he was able to make those dreams a reality. But for Barack Sr., those dreams live on in his son, Barack Jr., even though he's no longer in this life.

In many parts of Africa, we look to our ancestors and all those who came before us, for guidance and encouragement to follow our dreams. As a young girl, I was taught to honor my own ancestors, even though I would never meet them. Both my mother and my father spoke of Sumnor Tamba Nyorkor, who was the chief of his village in Lofa County, Liberia. Sumnor Tamba had dreams for my father (his first-born son), Sahr Nyorkor, to achieve. Now, Sumnor Tamba too had dreams to achieve the American dream, but he passed before he was able to. So his dream lived on in my father, who came to America and made the dream come true. Now his dreams are my dreams and lives on in me. When I have children, those same dreams will be passed down to my children and so forth.

So for me, it's not just that we elected our first African-American president. It is about that strong connection between heritage and history and family and honor and perseverance and dreams. It is about making your own path, despite the roadblocks people put up in front of you. It's about never forgetting where you came from, no matter where you go. And it's about reaching back and passing the torch to all the people behind you. President-elect Obama has done all that and much more. I wish him nothing but success in his new role but I somehow already know, that because of what he's been through, and how he's handled it thus far, he'll rise up and be just fine. Here's to our new President-elect, Barack Obama.

P.S. Here's a quick peek of my night at Times Square...courtesy of the Flip Video Cam.





-30-

Courtside with NBA Champion, Alonzo Mourning

Resilience, Faith, Focus and Triumph---that's the stuff NBA Champion Alonzo Mourning is made of and he writes about them in his new book, under that very title. Sia Nyorkor reports from Manhattan.

Soulful Saturday at Lola in SoHo

On a drizzly, Saturday night, me and fellow classmates, Jessica Hopper and Agnes M.F. Kamara-Umanna trekked over to SoHo for some good, nouveau soul-food and live jazz at Lola. I'd read about the place in The Village Voice a few months ago and how they were having trouble with their neighbors and the SoHo alliance, who weren't too happy about more loud music in their already crowded neighborhood. The article reeked of racist tones through the people that were interviewed but the reporter, Chloe A. Hilliard (a fellow NABJ member), followed through and made sure to get both sides of the story.
I'm not sure if all the complainers have been by yet but all that I can say is that we had a lovely time! The music was soothing and the ambiance was just right. I adore hob-knobbing with New York's finest and that's exactly who was at Lola's that night. From a New Orleans inspired menu, I had the Shrimp & Grits (scrumptious!), Agnes had the Pecan Crusted Rack of Lamb (tender!) and Jessica had Lola's Famous Spiced Fried Chicken (delish!). The staff was gracious and we even ran into husband and wife owners, Tom & Gayle Patrick-Odeen, as we were leaving and expressed to them what a fine place they had. If you get a chance, don't miss out on this jewel, sparkling amongst SoHo's ordinary...you won't be disappointed. We certainly weren't and have already been back for seconds! Cheers...see you at Lola!

Stop the Press! Ummm, I Don't Think So

On the 7th anniversary of September 11, Senators John McCain and Barack Obama came to Columbia University to discuss volunteerism in a national forum. Only a handful of students got picked (via ticket lottery) to attend the event so that left many of us out in the cold. I was lucky enough to get hooked up by MTV News, who asked me to cover the event.

The assignment: cover the forum from a student perspective and get reactions. Complex, in that there were about 7, 500 students crowded on the library steps, watching the speech on a JumboTron because they didn't get tickets to the actual event, which was held inside, at Lerner Hall.

I had access to the Press Room (which was really cool by the way; rows of tables with speakers and screens all around, boxed lunches and Journalists tapping away on laptops and Blackberrys and murmuring into cellphones). But even though I was part of the local Press Corps, I soon found out that all of the action was going on outside, not in the Press Room.

I was running around getting student reactions to McCain's Q & A (he spoke first, Obama was second), pen and pad in hand, stepping over and around the bodies sprawled on the lawn, when I noticed a flurry of activity out of the corner of my eye.

There, off to the side, was a guy rolling around in skates with a huge cardboard box on his head with the words SPECTATOR scrawled on the front.

Beside him were two guys who also had cardboard boxes on their heads except theirs said McCain and Obama. Both were wearing red boxing gloves and were shuffling from side-to-side, practicing jabs.

WHAT?! This was my story. I could see it now..."Politics @ Columbia University Causes Students to 'Duke' it Out"

I made a beeline for their makeshift boxing ring but as I was walking over, I noticed that the "SPECTATOR" on roller skates had disappeared and security had asked "McCain" and "Obama" to take off their costumes. There were a group of security huddled around the two men and the conversation was heated. I also noticed that there were quite a few reporters and photographers, jostling to get a good view of the "fight" that was about to go down.

I made my way over to snap a few photos but a man from campus security stepped in front of me and covered my lens.

I looked up at him, confused. "Ummm, excuse me sir, I need to talk to those gentlemen and you're kind of in my way" I said politely.

"Ma'am, you need a campus escort to talk to the students on our campus" he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ummm, sir, no one told me that." I said, remembering the rigorous security checks I'd went through earlier that day, complete with a pat-down.

"Yes, you can't talk to our students without a campus escort" he said.

"Says who?" I inquired, respectfully.

"Ma'am that's the way it is for this event" he replied, holding out his hands.

"Oh, really? Well, what if I told you that I'm actually a student here too, who just happens to be covering the event?" I said, pulling out my Student ID.

"Oh. Well, you should still talk to the head of campus security. I'm just trying to help you ma'am, so you don't get in trouble" he said.

"Well, sir, you're not helping me. I've already been cleared to talk to the students and I need to talk to those two students over there and you're blocking my way" I said, getting angry. At this point, I noticed that campus security had taken the "McCain" cardboard box and the two students were walking away, muttering under their breath.

They were getting away and I hadn't gotten the story!

I was through dealing with this security dude. I stepped around him and ran after the two students. I felt a few others on my heels, also reporters who wanted to talk to the students.

In short, I got the story (Three 21-year-old seniors were bored watching the speech and wanted to liven things up so they went home, made costumes, and tried to cause a scene. Campus security, already on edge with all the Secret Service crawling around, didn't want any trouble so they asked the students to leave. The students were "pissed" and felt that their rights had been violated).

I felt the exact same way. I was angry at how I was treated when I tried to approach the students about what they were doing. I felt as if some members of campus security took it upon themselves to "censor" the situation, therefore not letting Press have access to the students. So both of our First Amendment Rights had been violated: Their freedom of speech and my freedom of the press.

When is it okay to "Push Back" and stand up for your rights? Was I in the wrong for pursuing the story? Were the students in the wrong for expressing their discontent? Were other media in the wrong for giving up so easily and not being persistent?

So many questions that I've yet to receive answers.

I have every intention of following up but at the time I had 2 deadlines to deal with (my MTV story and a story for class).

I'm still steamin' but I'm proud of myself for "Pushing Back" and standing up for my rights. Now if i can just get some answers as to why it happened in the first place...I'll keep you updated.

In the meantime, check out my published piece from MTV.com.

My 1st NYC Press Conference!

Today my professors assigned us a Daybook story. Daybook is a schedule of events listed on the AP in your respective city. My classmates and I were worried all week about this assignment because we had no idea where our professors were going to send us...for all we knew, it could've been a murder scene or some really droll initiative that we'd have to make "colorful". Well, it wasn't that bad. The New York Civil Liberities Union launched a campaign to educate people on voter rights, specifically the rights of ex-felons, who often times are discouraged from voting, even after they've served their time. We split into teams of 4 and hopped on a 1 train downtown to cover our first NYC press conference! Although we were to work as a team, each person had to report, write, produce and edit their own radio piece, just in time for DEADLINE.

Right away, I knew I wanted to focus on a person of color. A disproportionate amount of New York's disenfranchised voters are African-American and Latino. If I could just find someone to talk to, I'd be home free. Bam! I found my subject, got the story, made my DEADLINE and got some constructive feedback. I don't want to tell you too much else because you can listen to my first effort, right above. Keep in mind that this is a first cut and my editing skills on Pro Tools are not so great yet. Anyhow, let me know what you think!

P.S. The best part of the day was watching my classmate, Agnes M.F. Kamara-Umunna, (what a name!) scarf down her spaghetti and meatballs on the subway because we didn't have time to eat. She didn't miss a beat...or her DEADLINE. Ah, the life of a Journalist...welcome to the club!

Beauty Comes in all Shapes, Sizes and Colors @ Brooklyn's West Indian Day Parade

So me and my classmates actually had a day off today! Some of us decided to spend our last hours of freedom at the 41st annual West Indian Day Parade and Carnival in Brooklyn. The parade is the largest gathering of Caribbeans in the U.S. and people come from Canada, the Caribbean and even England, just to experience.

Now I love the authenticities of the parade; jerk chicken, rice & peas, bami, sorrel, mauby, plantain, soca, reggae, mannish water...I could go on and on. Year after year, I'm never disappointed because it is always such a good time, meeting and interacting with new people from all over the world.

That's one of the things I love best...the people. Black, white, Indian, Chinese, dark, light, mixed, skinny, fat, locs, natural, permed, pressed...they're all there having a good time.

As usual, the music was banging, the drum line was thumping and the sistas were windin' to the rhythms, bouncing up and down, keeping in time with the beat. They were there on top of and in front of the floats, sparkling in their magenta, blue, yellow, red, green and purple bodysuits, complete with feather headdresses and flags. Their vanilla, bronze, chocolate and caramel complexions were gleaming in the September sun. They were beautiful as always.

But for the first time this year, I saw the women surrounding me with new eyes. I looked around me and I was surrounded by so many different shapes, colors and sizes. I saw a little blubber. I saw some flab. I even saw some hip bones jutting from bikini bottoms. The sistas were big, tall, skinny, short and curvy, all shapes and sizes. Caribbean beauty comes in many variations and I don't know why I never noticed it before.

As a woman who is full-figured, I've had my ups and downs with the way society portrays a "thicker" woman. We are not all fat. We are not all sloppy. And we are not all unhealthy. If you saw what I saw today (woman as old as my mother, with a little meat on their bones, running back and forth the 3 miles of Eastern Parkway) you'd probably think a little differently about those stereotypes.

Now society tells us that we're not supposed to be proud. We're not supposed to show-off our curves. We're not supposed to embrace, who we are. We're supposed to hang our heads in shame and waddle around like seals, unfashionable and unkempt.

Well, that wasn't the case today and it won't be the case for me...ever.

I am so glad that those women were there in their sequins and leotards, shaking their rumps, twisting their hips and waving their flags, all in the name of love and pride.

Big ups to the women of the Caribbean who are not afraid to shake what their mommas gave them!

Doing What I Can

Like I need something else to do right? Between working with MTV, going to grad school at Columbia, family, friends, new friends, love, volunteering, shopping, relaxing, hustlin' and oh yeah, sleeping, who has the time?

Well, apparently I do. And even when I don't, I'll make the time.

Going back to school at 30 years old is not an easy feat...especially when you've been out of school and working for the last 8 years. For as long as I can remember, I've been holding it down with one full-time job and at least 2 other part-time jobs. My life is hectic but I thrive on it and in the process I talk about it, whine about it, laugh about it, rejoice about it, hell, sometimes even cry about it.

Thing about it is, I am a communicator. Always have been, always will be. And I need to be able to document my experiences and tell you about them. And since I'll be running around NYC covering beats for class and chasing students down for my MTV gig, and working on my Master's Thesis, I won't be as accessible to talk on the phone. So you can read about my trials and tribulations right here...

At times, I may go unpublished for a few days due to assignments and deadlines and plain old exhaustion. But if that's the case, I'll log on and blog about that instead.

Say some prayers for a sista...I appreciate it.

Workinonit!

I did it...I just created my very own blog! So now I've got to create content...stay tuned...I'll make it happen.