It was a class on Malcolm X that changed my life.
Brought to Historically Black College Bowie State University on a Track and Field scholarship, I had grown up in Northern New England near the Canadian border. In the whitest state in the nation, I had grown to become one of the top sprinters in New England.
This is where people have huge jacked up trucks and ride snowmobiles to school in the winter. It can be quite country, and there is a huge statue of Paul Bunyan.
As you can imagine, growing up as an African American in such a place, not many people looked like me. Like most of what Huey Newton alludes to in Revolutionary Suicide, I did not find much interesting in school except one lonely academic project that stuck with me. I wrote a paper on the African queen of Nubia who used elephants to invade the Roman Empire. I was proud of my African ancestry and wanted to learn more about African history.
My white coaches often joked about my intellectual pursuits while the rest of me excelled on the track.
After a 600 mile bus trip to the South, understandably, I felt out of place when I arrived in the Washington D.C. area for my freshman year at Bowie State. There was so much I had not seen before. Urban kids from Brooklyn, the Bronx, Philly, Mississippi, the local DMVers, and Africans. There were new lingos, accents, and even languages I had to get acquainted with.
Luckily, I had one African American Studies teacher that took me under his wing.
Professor Raymond was a former Black Panther and the first Black teacher I had. In his class we learned about Malcolm X, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, the NOI, and the Black Panther Party for Self Defense.
Obama came to give a speech at the school. I was amazed and inspired. This was my first contact with politics and political movements.
This led to the opportunity to lead countless protesters from the White House to the U.S. Capitol for the cause of Black Lives after the murder of George Floyd. I also got to march alongside pro Palestinian causes under Linda Sarsour.
Now, being true, just like Malcolm, MLK, Mohamed Ali, Thamur Abdul Mohamad, and Fard Mohamed God, I have been organizing prayers, Friday sermons, and circles.
In the future I hope to do Hajj and travel Africa just like Malcolm.
As a storyteller I strive to inspire with letters and speech. A self styled modern day great retelling the stories of days gone past and such romantic places as Al Andalus, Islamic Spain, Timbuktu where the streets were said to be paved with gold, yet the real treasure of Timbuktu was its libraries, and the splendid courts of Baghdad.
I seek to bring a new Islamic golden age, but I cannot do it without my brothers and sisters.
I lead as an imam and I tell the younger brothers about Malcolm X, activism, Elijah Muhammad, Mohamed Ali, Dr. Khalid Mohammed, Islam, the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panthers.
I have been afforded the opportunity to speak in the auditorium about unity and the oneness of God.
Behold it is gold. Melt it down and turn it into a finger ring that is round.
Mind the shine. I am talking about the sun. This earth and environment, we only have one.
Ark with bark made of trees. When the flood came it sailed on the seas.
Rise and organize. Do not listen to the lies. Do not get discouraged by them who deny.
Get well soon tune. Okay here goes the song. I hope your illness is short and not too long.
Flying carpet in the market. After I fly it, I will park it.
The wealth of the South, it was the slaves. They were worked so hard they ended up in early graves.
It was a class on Malcolm X that changed my life.
