You know you are getting old when you see more and more people you have worked with in the past doing bigger and bigger things. I first met CJ Suitt about seven years ago through his fellow poet and buddy Kane D Smego. I had helped raise a few dollars for their trip to Egypt during the Arab Spring.
We did a small dinner in my living room and then sat back as the poets treated us to a jam session of hit after hit of slam poetry. One of Kane's poems was about the Greensboro sit-ins by the students which would thrust the Civil Rights Movement into national limelight.
We graduated into doing dinners at bigger locations and to bigger crowds. Both Kane and CJ entertained my guests at The Palace, the popular Kenyan joint, on various occasions. Kane showed up at one of my most anticipated dinners in Durham when I hosted the legendary Will Allen. I was so thrilled when Kane repeated the poem about the Greensboro Sit-ins. I couldn't have asked for a better backdrop for the poem. The event was full capacity with some guests eating from the bar table. Some guests had crashed the party with a group of young men from a nearby rural town ( I can't remember the town).
A few local non-profits like Reinvestment Partners had supported the dinner by contributing some money. Three non-profits gave funds but only two were able to attend. Those that were not able to make it helped to pay for the tickets of the young men and a few adults. In other words, they allowed me to put on the show that I wanted and not the one that the guests had paid for.
Corporations such as Burt's Bees also removed their checkbooks in support of the event. To make things even better, they also bought a few extra tickets. The funny part is that the folks from Burt's Bees showed up a few minutes late only to find out that the only seats left were at the bar, out of politeness and for better view, they opted to stand when Will Allen and the poetry started. My friend Teli Shabu played the melodic Kora like there was no tomorrow.
My local favorite artist Keith McLaurin, brought two paintings as gifts for our main guest and one for the chef.
A friend who couldn't make it because of babysitting issues bought 5 tickets at $100. The contributions and collaborative energy was unrivaled. Seeds, a Durham non-profit teaching urban farming to high school youth offered a group of six young farmers as sous chefs for the evening. The energy was on fever pitch.
The energy from the guests was just as invigorating. Brother Yowcep Webb, Roxanne L London and a Russian family that was attending Duke Phd program also showed. Erin White a long time comrade in the food movement, especially in the field of architecture and design was present. My former dean at my culinary school also attended my dinner for the first time that night. Maurice Small kept Will Allen's crew entertained. The list was long but the space between guests was absent. Karen Ochola's, the owner of The Palace, hospitality was obvious.
What was less obvious except to Will Allen, Mauric Smalls and some staff members, the non-profit that had invited Will Allen to the Triangle for a weekend workshop, was the ugly war of words that had marked the preparation for the dinner. She felt that Will had no right to attend a dinner while under a contract with them. I politely reminded her, through her staff, that I was not privy to the contract and that my discussion with Mr. Allen was independent of anyone else. I continued to clarify that I wasn't aware of any requirement for me to check in with them before talking to anyone else outside the company. It would be rude really to ask anyone I talk to who they had contracts with before engaging with them.
In the end cool heads prevailed, the dinner took place and we had a ball.
Whenever you see artists and activists getting recognition, it doesn't come on a silver plate. But how it comes is never an issue. The issues which are so easy to get blurred by the fake glitter of recognition is what the struggle aims to achieve. No amount of recognition can change that. Either way, I am happy for CJ but more for the good that might come out of the appointment.
In the meantime, I will be calling CJ tomorrow to discuss the possibility of yet another dinner. I wonder who else I will need to call to ask for permission to talk to this grand poet, whose poems really quench my thirst for the Goodness in Blackness!