I love Islam and cream soda

By Brother Taj   - June 2019 In 2007 and 2008 while working as a political market research manager I had the privilege of having then–candidate Barack Obama as a client. However, I would have voted for him anyway on the basis of one consideration: he was Black. Voters who would admit to this motivation are decried as reverse-racist and a traitor to the idea of post-racism, but given a national culture that rides on 4 centuries of enslavement and exclusion, no apologies are needed. We have had enough of inhumane consideration and treatment. Enough of institutionalize bigotry. Enough of racially motivated violence and murder. Enough scourging by drugs and brutal policing. And, enough of mass incarceration. It should all cause Black Folk to rise up in protest, refusing to perpetuate anything similar with our own hands. What more effective repudiation to white supremacy and its insidious effect, then for a Black person to refuse to shoot, rob, assault, rape, chea...

Islam (and by extension, Arabia) has always been connected to (and saved by) Black people and Africa. First, notice on the map that the most populated regions of (western) Arabia are bordered by Africa. Among the first/original tribes of people called "Arabs", the majority of these tribes originated in the southern region, especially Yemen. The Qahtanite tribe, whose progenitor is held to have originated the Arabic language, after whom it is named, has a grandson that all Yemenite tribes trace their lineage thru.Muhammad also traces is lineage thru the Qahtanites. Yemen has always been connected to African peoples - dark ones from Ethiopia. For centuries, Yemen was run by the Abyssinian/Aksum (Axum) empire, (think, modern day Ethiopia and Somalia - as well as Sudan, since Aksum conquered the Kush empire). For centuries not only were Yemenis a mix of cultures but an ethnic mix of Semitic and African peoples. It was these dark tribes that migrated northward as far a...

As I come up on my 49th year and my 26th as a Muslim, I'm reflecting on the amazing fact, and a fact that a lot of our older grumpy uncles and aunties don't realize, that our future lies at the feet of our youth. I became Muslim because of Hip Hop, Black Culture, and Prison - three things that most of the Muslims of the world do not want to even recognize as sources of Islamic culture itself. Despite their ignoring, discriminating, and even abject horror, droves and droves o f people enter into the religion through these very avenues. In our pop culture, Islam is extremely prevalent - something that would make Trump and his ilk lose a lot of sleep if they even knew. If you watch the last episode of season 8 of The Walking Dead then you know that Rick's quote at the end comes from a Hadith of the prophet Muhammad. If you listen to the Jon Jones interview with Joe Rogan at the end of his last fight, you heard him make an Islamic exclamation - the same one made in ASAP ...

This year, inshaAllah (God willing) I am going to launch an anti-violence initiative based on the jailhouse culture of settling beefs by entering an empty cell and engaging in fisticuff negotiations - as opposed to resorting to using homemade weapons, etc. I'm old school in the belief that in the event that people feel they have to resort to physical confrontation to settle a conflict, that a line be drawn at the use of guns. In my personal opinion, most of today's wannabe  thugs are emotional weenies who are too quick to pull a trigger, further compounding their immature state of mind with life-shattering violence and death. (I blame this on skinny jeans). In jail, the idea alone of walking into a small space one-on-one was enough to make a lot of dudes think twice to avoid behaviors that lead to the thunderdome, and for those who had to get down, they got to walk away, with only a bruised ego if they lost, less thinner skin, and often more respect for the person they ju...

If our criminal justice system is the "New Jim Crow", and if our prisons are neo-plantations, then our network of county and city jails are akin to slave ships - the "New Amistad", if you will.  There's an appropriate visual when you consider cells like those in Colorado's Arapahoe County Detention Center that have been modified from double to triple bunks - at a glance they resemble the cramped bowels of slave ships where African inmates-as-cargo were lain in tight stacks and rows.      Appropriate analogies abound - like slaves, jail inmates are a valuable commodity; local lockups get paid per body and operate like any business by cutting costs of operation as much as possible to maintain create revenue. Slave traders made and maintained profits by providing the barest minimum for slaves to survive transport to auction, often leaving them naked with no medical care and feeding them scraps for food. Jail menus provide so minimal calories and...

For several reasons might voting in this year's midterm elections. I was proud to have voted in a state with the second highest percentage of voter turnout. Colorado trailed only Minnesota, who I was happy to see voted another Muslim into Congress. On the candidate front, two races were of interest to me: governor and Atty. general. I voted for the victorious Jared Polis mostly because walker Stapleton was an offshoot of his races grandfather (I did not know Polis was gay, and that is the point, is it not?) Stapleton touted a policy of stripping funding from schools to use torch prisons - a policy of doubled-dipped racism. The woeful state of education in our country is a consequence of white rage over school desegregation, and the cancerous growth of incarceration is a product of similar origin, aimed to steer blacks and other minorities out of mainstream society. I voted against George Brauchler running for the Atty. General in response to his malicious over prosecut...

While locked down fighting (and beating) a frame-up, I read books and did pull-ups... Here's what I polished off in 10 months (Feb-Dec '18) *disclaimer, I absolutely did indeed read every title listed. Aries Decision (Ludlum/Mills) White Rage (Carol Anderson)  must read! Black Pain (T. Williams) Rules of Betrayal Naughtier Than Nice Anthology of American Poetry (Rita Dove) Aces High

When an inmate gets out of prison, it is a rebirth - and there are questions they confront in order to start a new life.  One of the most important ones is, "Where am I going to live?"  As a society, we have no idea of the reality that the majority of inmates get out of prison and that they will become our neighbors. I know this - because I was that inmate, and I am now "that neighbor".

It was July, 2010. That summer, my daughter was preparing to move to Baltimore with her mother, who had recently married a brother living there. Being the dutiful father and Muslim, I helped my ex pack and straighten the apartment for their departure. As I was gathering up Umarah’s things, I came across as small, girly-pink notebook labeled, “JOURNAL”. I’ve said it before – as a father, when it comes to kids, I am nosy. Unapologetically. I don’t subscribe to Leave-It-To-Beaver notions of parenting. Being a step/father to girls made me super vigilant, super protective. And super nosy. Sue me – and good luck. All that, of course, is to say, I opened and thumbed thru Umarah’s journal. What I read ripped my soul out and tied it in a knot.

Racism is an exercise of xenophobia and low self-esteem - negative core values that people reflexively cover up with Confederate flags and misplaced adulation of President Trump/hate for Obama/probable cause traffic stops. What follows is a list of activities that any Alt-Right Racist Cornball can engage in that will rid them of their discriminating schizophrenic prejudices and fears and have them trading in their robes and tiki torches for basic humanity.

Click HERE for Part 1 I got out of prison in August of 1996 on a Friday, released early from my sentence to community based supervision in a halfway house. I was initially housed at the County Jail, awaiting bed space, and was given the opportunity the following Monday to hit the streets after 7 years. I made a bee-line to my wife’s apartment on the Eastside. I had just missed her leaving to work but the kid's were home. A bunch of hugs and high-fives later, everyone was off doing homework and chores and I stood in the living room soaking my freedom in and basking in the glow of my new castle. The responsibility didn’t escape me, though. I was a full-fledged stepdad, and my wife was also my baby mama, being a couple months pregnant at the time. “You need to protect those girls.” That edict from my Sister rung over and over again in my ears. I not only had to provide for my step-kids as head of household, I had to keep them safe from a predator (allegedly) w...

“You need to protect those girls.” These were some of the first words my Sister told me after I had gotten married (for the first time) – words about my new stepdaughters that rang out to me very loud. Very clear. My first marriage occurred while I was still serving time for a robbery I committed at 19. I was 25 and Muslim and despite my circumstance (and very much because of my spiritual transformation) I had been lucky/blessed enough to snag a gorgeous, devout, and intelligent woman who took an interest and liking to me. My wife had been a friend of a friend – a blind Pen Pal hook-up that quickly blossomed into matrimony. Maybe too fast – because not long after I got a cautionary letter about my new nuptials.  Among a couple red flags waved at my marriage was this: my wife’s ex-husband was a suspected child molester.

Clink the link below and catch me at minute 12:00 in this amazing project conducted by renowned poet Mohamed Hassan. http://www.radionz.co.nz/programmes/public-enemy/story/201826249/public-enemy-episode-1

Originally published in the Denver Post, July 12, 2006 "Something's not right with him," I told his mother... My stepson, Meeka'eel, was 2 years old. He cried so incessantly that we couldn't help but think it was a substitute for talking. He would stare into space but never look anyone in the face. In the middle of the night, he would either giggle to himself or shriek loudly for hours. When he was 3, our suspicions were confirmed when Meek was diagnosed with autism. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, one in every 166 children born in the U.S. is, like our son, confined to a mysterious world marked by abnormal interaction and behavior. That was 10 years ago. In that time, we have watched Meek struggle and grow into an uncertain future. As a toddler, he'd never eat right and couldn't master toilet training. Early on, we were fortunate enough to enroll him in a program at University Hospital that studied childhood disorders. Bu...

Like that last tribe of Israel My past in invisible My original name has been left behind And my bloodline lies fossilized In the ruins of grown over slave quarters That they forget to talk about on Tuesday plantation tours That all men ware created equal has always Been a bit of a White Lie Most days, were still trying to find That remaining 2/5ths of humanity They like to say: That's not today, so get over it already But that's not likely to happen until I take my story back The one that they tell about: Buck-toothed rabbits in the briar patch Pickininnies with bare feet and braided plaits Black bird buffoons in Saturday morning cartoons And in Tarzan movies with mite midgets in blackface Pretending to be pygmies See, nobody else will ever get YOUR story right Everybody still dreams of a White Christmas But Black Ice... Is dangerous and insidious They like to say: That's just not today But let's be honest: Ebola only became a pr...

"Nigga" is a spoken word... A poem I wish I never heard A haiku that tastes like a lollipop or butterscotch With a bubble in it that cuts the roof of your mouth when you suck too hard on it "Nigga" swirls an effervescent tingle at the back of your throat, Before it backflips quick off the palette like a gymnast Yet I wince,  Every time I see white folks hear me and my niggas saying it We use "nigga" like a slave masters last name Both lies about our past – that we adopt anyway "Nigga" hangs in our mouth like niggas hung in the south

It’s a constant question: What do men look for in a woman? Yet, it seems that every time it is asked, the answer is never very honest, or it’s clichéd or just plain off-target. And so the question goes.  And goes... So here’s an answer I hope will be appreciated. (As I write this, I am single – and looking.) Men, as humans go, are primal and what we look for in a woman is driven by primal and sensory instincts much more than we realize or care to admit. Sil... Ever watch the movie Species ? In one scene, the evil alien Sil, intent on mating and reproducing, rejects a potential subject after she senses (sniffs out) he is diabetic. We men are like Sil. Our selection of women is sensory. Our brain tells us to size up a woman and based on what we perceive, we select the one that we innately desire to have our babies in order to carry on our “line”. This explains why as much as we are interested in a woman’s brain, our eyes always stray to t...

Relating the story of Jonah, the Quran has it that it was his anger at the people of Nineveh for refusing his message of salvation that led him to flee from them and eventually end up swallowed by a big fish/whale. I have an inkling of what that type of anger feels like, having been in the belly of the beast (prison) once as a teenager/young adult and inexplicably again recently (being in my 40s). I am sure that Jonah’s own belly burned white hot with righteous indignation that covered up feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. My own fire burned during my latest stint fueled by the fact that it came after nearly 2 decades of turning my life around from my first time down, as well as this latest conviction being the result of largely false accusations of domestic violence.