Transcript

Gregory: Andrew.

Andrew: Yes.

Gregory: Please answer the following seven questions remembering or imagining yourself as a child.

Andrew: Ok.

1.

Gregory: What do you know?

Andrew: Only my family and my neighborhood, like my small community. So that was it. So Harlem was everything. I never wanted to leave, like it was perfect as is, like it was all . . . Everything was there. New York City had it all. So that’s what I knew. I didn’t know there was a world outside of New York. I didn’t know about California. I didn’t know about Italy. I didn’t know about South America, Japan—all I knew was Harlem was “it.”

Gregory: Your neighborhood.

Andrew: My small neighborhood was the world.

2.

Gregory: Describe what this planet smells like.

Andrew: This one?

Gregory: This one.

Andrew: Man, I would say—

Gregory: As a child.

Andrew: As a child? That is kinda tough cause there was like areas. Again, it would always go back to me with food and garbage. Cause in New York it’s hot, you smell the garbage, and in the wintertime, you don’t smell the garbage. But the food was constant. You understand what I’m saying? So every neighborhood had a different smell based on the food.

3.

Gregory: Andrew, how is it possible to forgive the unforgivable?

Andrew: When you put the unforgivable in it, that means it’s not possible. But it’s possible to forgive when—

Gregory: As a child.

Andrew: As a child, you didn’t have no concept, you just didn’t forgive. If it was that bad, you just hated it, and you always hated it, and you connected the person, a face, the sound, whatever it was, it was unforgivable. Like the first time I saw Roots—unforgivable. I literally remember not being a racist or not being a hater, right? But I had a white friend named Joel—he wasn’t my friend that day. And it was that clear-cut for me. Cause I had never saw a visual of that type of brutality against the people based on race. You saw it with cops and stuff like that, but I mean like systematic, and see it and then have it broken down—it changes you.

4.

Gregory: What makes you happy?

As a child.

Andrew: Damn near everything as a child. Waking up, running with my friends, going to school, arguing with my brother and sisters, fighting. Everything made me happy, like . . . Just like, I didn’t have a concept of bad. It was all like, every day was like . . . Get new clothes, new sneakers, steal my brother’s new clothes, try to get away with stuff, like it was so fun, like there was no evil in the world, you know? It was just like how you present yourself.

Gregory: No burden?

Andrew: Everything was there. You had no such thing as homelessness, no such thing as starvation, like you miss a meal. It was like the abundance cause you’re in a community, you’re part of everything. When it’s your turn, you get what you . . . If you do good in school, you get your reward. If you didn’t do good in school, if you skip class, if you didn’t go to school, you get your punishment. So the expectations were made clear. As a child you knew, you did “x” here comes “y,” you did “a” here comes “b.”

5.

Gregory: Andrew, describe a world in which God exists, and a world in which God does not exist. As a child.

Andrew: As a child, there wasn’t a world where God didn’t exist. God existed, and unfortunately, you got liquor stores and churches on every corner in New York City in Harlem, where I grew up. So you saw a cross every other step, and you saw a drunk every other step, and you knew God existed in both of them.

7.

Gregory: What will be the kindest thing you do when you’re older?

Andrew: Non-profit work. Working with the kids going to juvenile halls, doing peer mentoring, learn how to write grants, and helping people open up . . . services to people who are underserved. They call it underprivileged, underserved, neglected, uh, lack of resources, red line district, uh, no loans—

Gregory: Was that something you wanted to do as a child?

Andrew: No, it just happened.

Cause it was always a given that it could be you. Hard times hits everybody, it doesn’t discriminate, so you want somebody that’ll help you—it’s almost like insurance.

–

Gregory: Andrew?

Andrew: Yes.

Gregory: The next seven questions are for you as an adult.

Andrew: Alright. So I can use my experience as a kid to now look back and . . . Gotcha.

Gregory: Anyhow you want.

Andrew: Alright, but I’m an adult now when you ask me the questions.

Gregory: Yes, you’re answering the—

Andrew: [Jokingly] Shit is fucked up, man.

Gregory: [laughs] The next seven questions—

Andrew: Dude! We need to smoke a blunt . . . No.

Gregory: [laughs] As an adult.

Andrew: Yes.

–

8.

Gregory: How many lives would you like to live, and why?

Andrew: One. Quality over quantity. Just one good one. I don’t wanna come back. I don’t want reincarnation. I was so scared . . . If heaven . . . I don’t wanna be in heaven, that’s fucked up, being good all the time—that would suck. Forever and ever and ever? Like damn, you can’t do one bad thing, like there’s no risk, there’s no reward, you’re done. Everybody’s happy, getting along, that’s boring.

Gregory: So utopia is not something you’re looking forward to?

Andrew: Utopia is you being happy with your reality and realizing you have the power to change it. I don’t gotta be stuck here. I can make a move. I can read. I can go get a job. I can learn how to be a mechanic. I can be a plumber. Like they gave you a road, whatever you’re good at, make money out of it.

Gregory: And the bad is a necessary evil.

Andrew: For your protection sometimes, for your pride and ego, sometimes, but it was there. Like you had to fight. If you didn’t fight, you were a punk and people took shit from you.

Gregory: And you were okay with that reality?

Andrew: Not that I was okay with it. I didn’t have the power to change it, so it just shaped me. When I had the power to change it, I became a mediator and tried to help people.

Gregory: But as part of life—

Andrew: That’s just reality. Like the animal part of us vs the human part. The human part: “You don’t gotta fight.” But the animal part: “Fuck that, we’re gonna fight.”

Gregory: And you don’t wanna come back as someone else?

Andrew: No, no Gandhi, no, no.

Gregory: Living a better life?

Andrew: There was no better life. Harlem was the life. There was no better life.

9.

Gregory: What should be forgotten, and what should be remembered?

Andrew: Nothing should be forgotten, everything should be remembered. It should all be weighed and taken as it is. You shouldn’t go back and try to sugar-coat history. Like the happy slave, or the happy Indian, or the . . . No, you had bad people everywhere, you had good people everywhere. Why try to just romanticize one part? Like I’m thinking, 10,000 years ago, how did a woman have a baby? She ain’t have that epidural thing, or no . . . they had pain to have a kid. People died at childbirth. So while now it’s all sanitized and you don’t have to feel the pain, and you could have a surrogate baby and somebody else can put it in your . . . You think they had surrogates back in the day? I mean maybe even two or three hundred years ago? People . . . if you got pregnant you got pregnant. Here, let your niece or your cousin have the baby, naw.

So, no, nothing should be forgotten, nothing should be, you know, it should all be acknowledged, accepted, be like oh, there was a time when nigga was cool. Here’s what trips me out, the evolution of black people’s names. Colored, African American, Negro, you know what I mean, like no other culture had that. Irish didn’t have to go through that. The British didn’t have to go through that. The Russians, the Italians didn’t have to go through that. The Jews did it just to change their name so it wouldn’t be stein (st-ayn), it would be stein (st-een).

Gregory: Mhm.

Andrew: But they didn’t have to go to twenty different types of steins (st-ayns) and steins (st-eens). You know what I’m saying? Black people, the only people that had to go through the whole “who are you, what are you this year?” You know, black and proud. What’s black? Afro-American. What’s afro? Your hair defines your whole thing now? What other group of people on the planet has their hair define their whole nationality, ethnicity? Name one.

11.

Gregory: Andrew?

Andrew: Yes.

Gregory: What is your most vivid childhood memory?

Andrew: Hmmm. [sighs deeply] Block parties. The city would stop the bus from coming and from 12 o’clock to maybe 6 or 7 o’clock, everybody come outside. Food, music, street dance competitions, basketball tournaments, Double Dutch, stickball, poker, dominoes. It was just like shut down this whole business thing and let’s have a community. And you didn’t have to worry about a car coming and hitting the kids, everybody . . . Block party. You blocked off everything else, everybody came outside, and . . . It was the best. And you would go to other people block parties. So your block party, like if you was on a major street, you couldn’t do 125th street because everybody had to go, but you could do 126. You couldn’t do 135th but you do 137, 138. So you had a block association that would say, “Hey, we got extra this time, bring your kids, or we put you in and buy bulk, everybody eat,” and it was like, again, resources not resources, but communication and talking and just knowing. “Hey, this kid, somebody had a baby.” “Oh, we got baby clothes grown out of,” cause kids grow out of clothes, and that was uh, that was welfare. No one went and begged and stole. You knew somebody somewhere had a crib. Kid can’t fit in the crib no more now you pass it along. We call it hand-me-downs, but it was just sharing. I don’t know why they call it a negative name, hand-me-downs. I lived off hand-me-downs. I never had nothing new, always . . . I waited for my brother to get tired of his shirt or his sneakers.

12.

Gregory: What would you take with you if you had to leave and never return?

Andrew: Never return? Uh, pride in my history and the stories, so I’d always be connected. So even if I didn’t go back, they would know where I’m from because I’ll always reference—we don’t do it like that in New York, we don’t do it like that, you know, well my grandmother didn’t make it like that, or my grandma didn’t make the fried chicken like that. You’d always have a reference. It’ll be like you staying rooted so you wouldn’t be a balloon and just fly away. It’s like staying grounded, staying centered.

13.

Gregory: What is in the middle between good and evil?

Andrew: Nothin’. Because one person’s good is one person’s evil, one person’s evil is one person’s good. If I attack you and kill you, still you dead. But if you defended, you killed me, I’m still dead. But self-defense versus murder, homicide, that line is so thin, cause the person is still dead, but the intent and the reason why it could be different.

14.

Gregory: Andrew.

Andrew: Yessir.

Gregory: Last question.

Andrew: No! Not the last one. We’re having so much fun.

Gregory: What makes you happy?

Andrew: Hmm, a lot of things, a lot of things, uhm, again as an adult, right?

Gregory: As an adult.

Andrew: Now as an adult, what makes me happy is people treating people fairly. It’s odd, but when I see people like—

Gregory: Isn’t it subjective?

Andrew: No. Because you could be homeless and still think you’re better than somebody else who’s homeless. And it’s fucked up. You could be in prison, and still think you’re better than a person who’s in prison. You’re both in fucking prison, but you still think you better. It’s ill. I don’t know why I think about it all the time, but I don’t understand how rich people could let rich people lose their mansion. Like if you’re both rich and somebody lose their mansion, why not give ‘em money so they don’t lose their mansion? But they need that one-upmanship cause then they wouldn’t be rich. You wouldn’t have rich mansions if you didn’t have homelessness, you wouldn’t have a teepee if you didn’t . . . You know what I mean? Little small slices, it’s like that middle thing. They need the middle cause that makes them feel above or below. Middle class. How much money do you need to survive on the planet? Really. You didn’t need money a thousand years ago, you just needed somebody to work. And if you work, you eat. You didn’t work, you didn’t eat. Now you got credit. Now you got debt. Now you got all this shit that’s manmade that makes you depressed, and you on drugs and you’re worried about the future and you not even enjoying the day. Cause why? You’re thinking about shit that ain’t even happened yet.

_

Yes

To be or not to be is not a question.
There’s only one option in the fulfillness of being.
Negating any part of reality is not accepting the abundance of all things.
Embrace all your available senses and enjoy your private and public journey.