In These Rooms Blog

In These Rooms, I heard a discussion on the ‘Alcoholic Mind.’ One guy said “… my mind is a neighborhood nobody wants to live in…” Another guy says “… The voice of my alcoholic mind is ‘A Little Person’ sitting on my shoulder not no fucking disease. God or no damn program ain’t gonna to remove that Little Person. I have to get over that shit…” 

“…I got into a heated argument with my old man my senior year in high school. He pinned me against the wall and told me in the angriest voice “…Don’t ever forget where you come from…” My father looked like a giant to me in that moment. Years later, I held his hand and kissed him on his forehead as he lay on his death bed passing away. He seemed like a scared little boy to me in that moment. It’s amazing how our common humanity, good or bad, willingly or unwillingly, can bring us down to size. I have seen the biggest, meanest, toughest person become A Little Person by a simple act of kindness or love…”

Kirk from In These Rooms

I met Jessie In These Rooms. She is a 32-year-old white woman from what I’d call the Southside of God’s Kingdom. Jessie is a divorced alcoholic mother with four children; she is tough as nails. To hear her talk, one immediately got it, Jessie don’t brook a lot of dissension or, in the words of the street, “…she don’t take no shit…” Surprisingly, she took a liking to me. I guess it has something to do with, as they say, game recognizing game. We were talking one day, and Jessie started crying like a little girl and then shared with me “…I began drinking at 19 shortly after I was raped by a black man my neighborhood. I don’t know why, I haven’t been able to share that much, but feel I can trust it with you…” Go figure, like many of us, my badass dear friend also has a broken Little Person on the inside.

“…Dwayne P. Board was a fellow classmate at North Carolina A&T State University. Dwayne is 6’8 and weighed 275lbs. He was an All-American Defensive End and was drafted 137th in the 5th Round of the NFL Draft his senior year. Dwayne went on to enjoy a decade of success as a player in the NFL, to win and coach on Super Bowl Winning Teams and, to this day, coaches in the NFL as a Defensive Line Coach with the Seattle Seahawks. But, perhaps the most interesting thing about Dwayne P. Board is his nickname—Peewee. Yep, there is A Little Person on the inside of all of us…”

Stephen from In These Rooms

“…Transformation is coming to accept, appreciate, and even love your inner characters and where they have carried the man or woman in the mirror despite your past…”

The Professor

Thank God for our Inner Little People.

Read more about The Professor and tell your story. Listen to the Professor’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #LittlePeopleMatter

The Struggle Continues…

It was November 1995. I was the Rector, pastor, of a predominantly Black Episcopal Church in Wilmington, DE and Interim Rector of a predominantly White Episcopal Church in the same town. I was leading the effort to merge these two churches and was hated by everyone or so it seemed. This was a toxic environment. My wife was seven months pregnant, it was the holidays, I was depressed and then my secretary, conspiring with individuals quietly planning my ouster, accused me of sexual harassment. To add insult to injury, this woman had to be one of the ugliest human beings I ever laid eyes on. Go figure. Me? Huh! In a private conversation with one of the church members I thought at the time was a friend, I got the following response for sharing my troubles:

“…That which don’t kill you will make you stronger…”

Unknown

I felt like No shit Sherlock; I perceive you are a prophet. What I didn’t get then but realize now is there are Enriching Conflicts in the life of authentic lived truth that show us who we are and what matters.

“…I learned from the experience of surviving the indignity of being molested I had it within me to begin again, to no longer live in shame and to never again allow anything to define me as less than the child of a loving God…”

Yalie

Fast forward to today. As the COVID-19 vaccine rolls out across the country, I shared in a recently published book that amid the crisis of the Covid-19 pandemic, I started a recovery cooperative with a message of hope. We provided service support at no for cost to Heroic Companies serving the Houston Community. What I did not disclose was this work came out of my decision to cut personal ties with a business associate that I was tired of doing business with. That day, I woke up with one nerve left and damn if that asshole didn’t get on it. I was done. Speaking of Enriching Conflicts, it helps when the upside of this conflict is one of the best corporate years we’ve ever had. Just saying.

I am a COVID-19 Survivor. No doctor or hospital help me get over COVID. I had the support of my loving life partner, my personal Dr. Mom. Thank you, Kathleen. Others may only see disease, destruction and death in COVID. But whatever brought COVID-19 my way, it taught me there are Enriching Conflicts that turn the darkness of our lives into light. 

“…In spite of being sexually abused as child, I choose to use humor and laughter to change the world…”

Yalie

There is a line to a song I learned back in the day that says “…This joy I found. The world didn’t give it and the world can’t take it away…” Thank you but I’ll keep my Enriching Conflicts.

Read more about Yalie and these stories in ‘Tales from the Wreckage: The Beginning’ and tell your story. Listen to our Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #EnrichingConflictsMatter

The Struggle Continues…

“…I now know why the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s cause I’m not over there to fuck it up…”

Russell from In These Rooms

Russell, a 35-year-old white male, is alcoholic and a former drug dealer. He is bipolar, on medication and a recovering sex addict who says he feels miserable with himself and with others. He describes his biggest problem in life as being ‘Stuck on Stupid.’ Forrest Gump said “…Momma taught me stupid is as stupid does.” Keeping it real, I know how this shit feels.

The year is 1998. I’m getting booked into the Douglas County Jail. It was another shoplifting collar. They require you to remove all belts and jewelry; you must turn all your shit over. I removed my Yale class ring and set it on the desk. The booking agent looked at it and asked me “…What is that?” 

It’s my class ring.”

“You went to Yale?” 

“Yea, I have a Master’s Degree from Yale.”

“How does some from Yale end up in a place like this?” he asked. 

I said, “Shit happens.” I should’ve said “Stuck on Stupid.” 

“…Forrest Gump’s Momma may not have been anyone’s genius either, but she was right that damn stupid is as stupid does…Hell, just ‘cause your ass knows better don’t mean you do better…We are all fallen, flawed and fallible. We all have our demons and we all have gangster proclivities.”

Hunter

There was a warrant for my arrest on a Grand Theft Auto Charge. My attorney’s negotiations with the prosecutors were going nowhere fast. Looked like I was going to have to face the music on this one. I had the money to bond out so I knew I wouldn’t be in for long while I fought this shit. That seemed like a better option then getting picked up on some random DWB (Driving while Black) BS. Before surrendering, I needed to be clear there were no other outstanding warrants that would keep my black ass locked up. Fortunately, I had a friend, a local pastor, who had connections with Houston Police Department and could get a look at what was waiting for me around the corner. My rap sheet came back negative on warrants across the other 5 states where I had committed grand theft auto. My friend’s question to me was, “5 States, Steven?” 

Yep. I hear you Russell. Stuck on Stupid!

Read more about Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #StupidMatters

The Struggle Continues…

Lucy, my recovery partner in crime, and I were having a conversation about the expanded concept of what it means to be human. Yep, we were waxing poetic when she dropped the lyrics to the John Lennon song ‘Imagine’:

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace, you

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world, you

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

John Lennon – Imagine

Damn, that’s some serious knowledge there. I don’t consider myself a dreamer, but I do share brother Lennon’s Vision. I found that vision In These Rooms. I’m not as lyrically gifted as brother Lennon, but I do have a gift, the gift of my faults. I see A Brotherhood/Sisterhood of a shared vision that rolls like this:

“…we are all fallen, flawed and fallible. We all have our demons. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. Most of us sit down to shit and we all have gangster proclivities. No one is better than anyone else for everybody has some shit going on and the ground is level at the foot of the cross. We are all trying to get home the best fucking way we know how…” 

Hunter

I call this Brotherhood/Sisterhood Wrecked America. It grows out of the fundamental belief that ‘living in peace, ‘as the song says, requires truth telling and witness bearing. 

“…Until we find our characters, we ain’t telling our true story…”

Hunter

Briefcase in hand, a father calls his son to the door each morning to say goodbye before leaving for work. Each morning, he would complete this ritual by kissing his young son on the forehead and telling him he loved him. A friend noted this ritual one morning and commented how nice it was that he performed this act because he loved him. The father’s response was instructive. He stated “…I don’t do it because I love him. I do it in order to love him…”

Don’t trick it. Finding our characters and telling our stories? This is not what A Brotherhood/Sisterhood of Wrecked America is. Sharing our lived truth and stories of our characters, this is what Wrecked America must do to become A Brotherhood/Sisterhood.

Read more about Hunter and Lucy and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #TheHoodMatters

The Struggle Continues…

“…’Transformational Spirituality’ is not seizing some moral high ground. It is the capacity to lead out of darkness with authenticity and lived truth.…”

The Professor

The Latin derivation for education is ‘e-duc-ere,’ meaning to lead out of darkness. I had the meaning of this word etched in my memory at an early age. 

I was seven years old. My father was an aspiring university professor and needed maximum space in our small home for his office and most importantly his books. My father annexed my second-floor bedroom for this purpose and relegated me to the basement where it was cold, dank and frighteningly dark. To make matters considerably worse, at night, I heard noses that sounded like a man with a pegleg was coming to get me.

I just knew I’d be murdered in my sleep by whatever was out there and certain it would come for me. My father didn’t know it, and I suspect he didn’t care either, but he was teaching me an important life-lesson. No, it wasn’t not to be afraid of the dark. It was that…

“…Hell, the dark ain’t a place to be afraid of; the dark is the best damn place to lead out of…”

Hunter

The dark can be where we experience the storms of life as empowering conflicts that enrich struggles and stories.

“…Hope is on the other side of the danger that lies in front of us…”

CT Vivian

Fast forward 30 years, I’m leaving my home, soon to be lost in foreclosure, in the spring of ’98. I’m carrying a 9-millimeter Glock on my hip. There’s a warrant on my head out of Delaware for a rental scam gone bad. I bring the car to a stop at the light on the boulevard. “…Stop!! Don’t you move motherfucker. Put your hands on that damn steering wheel and don’t you move god-damnit or we’ll blow your fucking head off…” These were the commands of Atlanta PD’s finest, the FBI, and Federal Marshalls as they surrounded my vehicle guns drawn.

I’m still the crying kid in the basement, now confronted with real danger, but I’m not afraid. 

I reluctantly respond to the orders barked at me but not because I’m scared. In the moment, I’m disgusted they have the drop on me and my plans for getting laid that evening are obviously screwed, pun intended. But, The Darkness, the danger and the criminality, hell, they’ve helped me find a level of courage and intestinal fortitude I never knew I had.

“…An empowering step in transformation is when we stop placing expectations on other people, places and things and instead place them on our inner characters…”

The Professor

“…Ironically, sometimes the correct path is the tortured one…”

Yalie

Read more about Hunter, The Professor and Yalie and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #TheDarknessMatters

The Struggle Continues…

An Old Cherokee Chief was teaching his grandson about life:

“A fight is going on inside me, he said to the boy. It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego. The other is good–he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you and inside every other person too.“

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The Old Chief simply replied, “…The one you feed…” Well yea.

I like this story not because I agree with who it prematurely declares the winner but because it squares with what is going on with people In These Rooms and the shit going down with our inner cast of characters. I like it even though it overly moralizes our inner characters and the nature of our stories. I like it because it rightly acknowledges the relevance, the power and the conflicted dark side that enriches and humanizes the stories of my brothers and sisters in recovery. I like it because that story is all of us. We are all fighting our own battles…

“…we are all fallen, flawed and fallible. We all have our demons. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. We all sit down to shit and we all have gangster proclivities. No one is better than anyone else for everybody has some shit going on and the ground is level at the foot of the cross. We are all trying to get home the best fucking way we know how…” 

Hunter

An old man was walking home late one night when he saw a friend on his knees under a streetlight, searching for something. “What are you doing?” he asked his friend. 

“…I dropped the key to my house…” 

“…I’ll help you look…” his friend replied. 

After a few minutes of frustrated searching, the old man asked, “…Where exactly where you when you dropped this key?” 

His friend pointed toward the darkness. “…Over there….” 

“…Then why are you looking for it here?” 

“…Because this is where the light is…”

“…Yea, the light is cool but some of the best shit that adds meaning and value to our stories, and our characters, goes down in the dark…”

Hunter

Read more about Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #TheFightMatters

The Struggle Continues…

“…When you live in the land of death, sometimes your mind and soul get lost on the way home…”

The Professor

In my recent book, Tales from the Wreckage: The Beginning, I had the opportunity to write a dedication to one of my mentors, the late Rev. Dr. Ralph M. Ross. He was a spiritual giant. He baptized me in the swimming pool at N.C. A&T State University, installed me as a Student Minister and leader in the University Pentecostal Campus Fellowship and got my ministry off the ground.

On this occasion, I was reminded of going to see him at his home in NC. As we walked in the park that day, I shared with him I had lost my way. I shared that my life was spiraling downward. I was clinically depressed, drinking heavily, smoking and using drugs. I didn’t get into the good shit: the prostitutes, the massage parlors and the porn addiction, the embezzlement of funds or the grand theft auto, I had yet to learn the true power in sharing my lived truth or embracing the gift of my faults. Yes, I had lost my way. I hear his response now like it was yesterday. He said “…you have forgotten who you are…you are a Gideon, a Mighty Warrior…”

“…Transformation is overcoming the spiritual sickness of our cast of characters, and their voices, occurring to us as some kinda damn character defects…Until we find our characters, we ain’t telling our true story…”

Hunter

There is no longer any shame in my game. The tragedy in life isn’t in Getting Lost. The real danger in life is in never realizing it takes finding our characters and owning our stories to make our way home.

“…In our characters and our stories, the embodiment of the gift of our faults, lie our inner superheroes with their superpowers and, consequentially, the battle that rages in all of us. Yet, we’re the lucky ones; we’re still alive…”

The Professor

I believe ‘self-knowledge’ is power. There’s power in knowing who the hell we really are. ‘Self-knowledge’ is the power that can help us find our way home.

R.I. P. Ralph M. Ross. I thank you and all those who came before me and illuminate the way home. I pray I have the courage and intestinal fortitude to follow your footsteps.

Read more about the Professor and Hunter and share your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #GettingHomeMatters.

The Struggle Continues…

I was in the 4th grade. I was back in the Principal’s Office at school. This time they were summoning my mother who was also in the building as an Assistant Librarian. I was fighting again was all they told her. Lucky for me, I had time to get my story together. That was until I was preempted by Assistant Principal Joseph as my mother arrived at her office. I could hear them talking just outside her office as the door was left slightly ajar. Assistant Principal Joseph to my mother, “…I’ll tell you this Shirley. That boy is either going to be a successful attorney or criminal because he sure can Tell a Story…”

“…Transformation is overcoming the spiritual sickness of our cast of characters, and their voices, occurring to us as some kinda damn character defects…”

Hunter

Not what you’d call a ringing endorsement of the legal profession. Assistant Principal Joseph did however recognize my gift for crafting compelling narratives. In common parlance, lying. I was reminded of this experience during a recent conversation with Lucy, my recovery partner in crime. I said, badasses are the people In These Rooms that find the person they are meant to be lies in recognizing their inner characters and the gift of their faults. She looked at me like I just said the dumbest damn thing she ever heard. Any who.

Talking with my barber recently, he expressed dismay his stepson seems on track to become a pathological liar. “…That boy lies all the time…” he said. My response was he needed to put an end to that shit right now. Not by beating it out of him, as he seemed predisposed to wanna do, but by redirecting the boy’s talent and energy. As they say, “…game recognizes game…” I said you need to creatively redirect him something like this. The next time he tells you one of them tall damn tales of his, tell him, “…boy I’m gonna have to get you in some creative writing classes. Because with them whoppers you be telling, your ass belongs in Hollywood cause you show can Tell Stories…”

“…The redemptive power of the cross is the love of and trust in a God that empowers us to embrace and even celebrate the gift of our faults and the songs of our souls…”

The Professor

Read more about Hunter, Lucy and the Professor and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #StoriesMatters

The Struggle Continues…

Lucy, my recovery partner in crime, read my last blog and had one question “…what was the Funk? You said you were in a Funk…”

Bull Connor was a racist sheriff down in Birmingham, Alabama during the 60’s. He strongly opposed the Civil Rights Movement. He was asked how he could turn firehoses and sic vicious dogs on not only civil rights workers but also helpless and defenseless women and children. Connor was known to have said “…It’s easy. It’s simply a case of mind over matter. I don’t mind and they don’t matter…”

I wrote in my last blog I had a better understanding of who and what matters in life because of COVID-19. I’m not down with the immoral, gutless and reprehensible inhumanity that obviously rotted Connor’s soul but if everything in life matters nothing matters. My failure to grasp this caused the Funk I was in.

We live in a highly racialized world. My life partner Kathleen is white. Isn’t that supposed to matter? Kathleen cared for my black ass while I had COVID and refused to separate or quarantine from me. She was my Doctor Mom. She defied her own mother who told her “…stay away from him…” But she is white. Doesn’t that matter?

The damn truth about what matters is we are all flawed, fallen and fallible. We all have our demons. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. We all sit down to shit and we all have gangster proclivities. No one is better than anyone else for the ground is level at the foot of the cross. Yea, it’s only taken me 61 years and COVID to get a grip on who and what really matters. This was my Funk.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was asked how he found the strength to keep going in the face of harsh criticism, relentless injustices and constant death threats. Dr. King said “… the person who doesn’t know the joy of finding something in life so dear and so precious they are willing to die for it if necessary isn’t living. They’re only existing…” PHunk is finding that joy.

PHunk is finding the miracle, magic and Higher Power in my COVID Story. PHunk is choosing to die on my feet than live on my knees another day. PHunk is seeking the hope that lies on the other side of the dangers in front of me. #PHunkMatters I was in a Funk. Now I know the joy Dr. King was talking about. He was talking about the PHunk that Matters. I have finally found the good shit. Funk is in my rear-view mirror. It can be in yours too. 

“…They won’t say of me he was a good Nigger…”

X

Read more about Lucy and X and find your joy. Listen to X’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #PHunkMatters

The Struggle Continues…

Recently, I was talking with a dear friend, Dr. Flo. I hadn’t spoken with her since testing positive for COVID-19. I shared my challenges in testing positive. I shared I was initially discouraged about being sick but then realized I was blessed. Blessed to be free. Blessed to have the loving support of a wonderful life partner and friends and family. Blessed to see things and life clearer. Blessed to not have them damn medical bills (right). I understand better who and what is important. She asked if I felt my life had gotten stale? I immediately said no that’s not where I was but that wasn’t what my mother called “…the God’s honest truth…’ Yes, my life was in a funk.

“…Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free…”

John 8:32

This funk I caused. I caused it by trusting in man and not in God. I caused it by embracing in my head but not in my heart the Gift of My Faults. I caused this funk not living by the principle “…you can’t teach what you don’t know, and you can’t lead where you’re not willing to go…” The real virus I had to overcome was carrying the American baggage of victimization. With hundreds of thousands of people perishing from COVID-19, God’s sparing my black ass showed me the power of His Unconditional Love.

Dr. Jimmy Jarvis, my Recovery Sponsor, said to me upon hearing how I’m feeling these days “…sounds like you have a new lease on life Bro and with better terms…” Being sick with COVID, and receiving God’s Unconditional Love, reminded me of a question from the movie ‘Harriet.’ As she grieved the betrayal of an unfaithful husband, the question posed to her was “…what is any man to a woman whose life has been touched by God?”

Back to Dr. Flo. She also said to me “…who needs anybody or anything to second it when the Universe has affirmed your life matters…” Righteous. Whatever brought COVID-19 my way, I thank God. It caused me to look in the mirror. It caused me to see the funk I was in. I saw the thief who was looking back at me and stole my joy by trusting more in man than in God. Whatever brought COVID my way, it reaffirmed for me my God’s Unconditional Love. And as the good Dr. said, I don’t need anybody or anything to second God’s affirmation my damn life matters!!

Read more about Dr. Flo and Dr. Jimmy Jarvis and listen to their podcast with me on wreckedamerica.com. They are all that.

The Hunter

The Struggle Continues…