Abiodun Oyewole

Does the winter weather have you feeling tired, antisocial, sad?

0:03

You may want to take a cue from our friends in Norway.

0:08

Really. They tend to orient towards the things.

0:11

That they like about the season instead of just sort of seeing it as a time of year to endure.

0:14

How to embrace the winter that's on the next. Explain it to me. New episodes every Sunday, wherever you get your podcasts. Why have the ICE operations in Minneapolis struck a nerve unlike anything else in the Trump era?

0:19

It's really important to understand that this is a radical administration. It is not a conservative administration.

0:35

I'm Preet Bharara and this week Pulitzer Prize winning historian and Atlantic staff writer Ann Applebaum joins me to unpack what's happening in Minneapolis and why she argues this moment reflects a radical governing project, not traditional conservatism. The episode is out now. Search and follow Stay tuned with Preet wherever you get your podcasts.

0:40

Hi, come up. Welcome to Fashion Neurosis. Abudun Ayawole.

1:13

I'm happy to be a part of this experience. Thank you for having me.

1:23

Can you tell me what you're wearing and why you chose these particular clothes today?

1:28

Well, I'm wearing a dashiki and I chose to, I like to always dress in African centric style because we do have a culture that I like to always put on exhibition. I'm very upset with the fact that many of my brothers and many black men in particular have grown addicted to the suit and tie. I can't stand the suit and tie. The tie, as far as I'm concerned, is a phallic symbol. And I don't think I need to wear a penis around my neck to show that I'm a man. And now we got, I think that we have denied respecting and reflecting our culture by dealing with the Western concept of what is considered a well dressed man. So I have a lot of African clothes, clothes that I like to wear to accentuate the fact that I am of African origin. And I don't want that culture to die. I don't want that to be dismissed and I want to always be able to represent that particular attitude of my life.

1:34

That's very beautiful, the dashiki you're wearing. I must say you're one of the three founding members of the Last Poets, formed in 1968 and described as the first hip hop group. The Last Poets have been Sampled by Notorious B.I.G. a Tribe Called Quest and the poets wrote the famous lyric and party and bullshit. And I wondered where does that come from? That line? Cause it's such a it's been featured in such a big way in music.

2:51

Well, the name actually was gleaned from a poem by a South African poet named Kilpetse Kokosieli. No one could say his first name because it was kind of. It was awkward. So he was affectionately called Little Willie. And he was someone. He lived in Harlem for a while. I got a chance to know him very well. A short guy, very, very personable and very smart. And he went back to South Africa. Well, when he was in South Africa, he wrote a poem called towards the Walk in the Sun. And the poem can be found in a fantastic anthology called Black Fire. It was an anthology put together by the then known Leroy Jones, who became Mary Baraka later on, and another man named Larry Neal. This was like the best anthology kind of to put together. The essays, poems and short stories joined the black arts movement back in the early 60s. And in his poem in that book, Kokasui had a poem entitled Towards Walk in the Sun. And since he was from South Africa and during his time growing up there, he grew up under the apartheid regime. And apartheid was a very demeaning system that made the natives of South Africa, they were treating them, they were oppressed in their own country, and they were being treated like hostages, like prisoners. And they had to walk around with an ID card. And if they didn't have the ID card on them, they would go directly to jail. So Coco Sully's poem talks about that. And you could see he was very angry. It made him very, very angry to know that his people were being treated and abused like they were in their own homeland. And at the end of the poem, he changes the font from small letters. He made all the letters bold, big letters. And he says, this wind you hear is the birth of memory. When the moment hatches in time's womb, there will be no art talk. The only poem you will hear will be the spear point pivoted into the punctured marrow of the villain and the timeless native sun, dancing like crazy to retrieve rhythms of desire fading into memory. David Nelson, who is one of the original members of the Last Poets, added, therefore, we are the last poets of the world. So the statement that Coco Sully was making was that there was going to be a revolution, it was going to be a serious change, and that we were going to ultimately overcome all this madness that we were facing. And so when David decided that we should be called the Last poets, he wrote a poem entitled the Last Poets. And it was basically just poetry piggybacking off of What Cocosuli has served. But that creed was so important when we went to South Africa. I GUESS it was 15 years ago now, maybe about 15 years ago, we went to South Africa, and Cocosuli was teaching at the University of Johannesburg. And we went on stage, all of the students in that auditorium, they said the quote that I just gave you, they all said that it was one of the most moving experiences I've ever had to hear. Everybody quoting that particular section of his poem that affected, actually inspired the Name the Last Poets.

3:26

God, how amazing. And you said you were born out of wedlock, and because of attitudes, you said that meant being in the darkness. And I wondered, what was your childhood like?

7:23

I was born out of wedlock, and my mother was not a happy camper. Matter of fact, I was born in a home for unwed mothers. I don't even know if those places exist anymore.

7:39

Yeah.

7:56

But I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, and all. I remember as a baby that it was all dark always around me until my mother's sister, who was like 14 years older than her, when she came over to the house, she would open up the curtains, there would be light, and she'd always pick me up and kiss me and hug me and. Oh, my God, she was just. Love, loved, love. It was. She just gave me so much joy. And I loved her dearly because I really think that I was a. I was a burden for my mother. She was. She wanted me. But I think because of the circumstances by which I was born, she wasn't really a happy camper. She didn't. She didn't. She was really on the dark side.

7:57

Yeah.

8:51

But her sister was full of life and love and joy, and she would pick me up and hug me and kiss me, and I just looked forward to seeing her all the time whenever she. I mean, that's as much as I can remember that this woman. Every time I'd see her, it would be. The room would be full of light. It was like the sun would just shine all over the place. And according to the story, when she married a man from Georgia and they decided they were going to go to New York, and I was three years old, but I guess I must have been able to perceive things because I guess I knew if somebody had a suitcase, they were going to go someplace. So she had a suitcase next to her. And my Aunt Vivian says that I looked at the suitcase, I looked at her, and they said, I ran upstairs in the house where we were staying, and I came downstairs with my cowboy hat on, my guns and My horses, my cowboy vest. I guess I was dressed up like a little black cowboy. And I told everybody I was going to go to New York with Aunt Beanie because she was Aunt Beanie at that time. And so I said, I'm going to New York with Aunt Beanie. And this is what they say that I said I probably did. I don't remember saying that, but I've heard the story a bunch of times. And then I do know for a fact that she did not leave Cincinnati without me. I was put in that car, and I came from Cincinnati to New York when I was 3 years old with my aunt, who became Mother. And I refer to my real mother as Mommy. So my aunt became. And my mother, my real mother, who's still alive. Matter of fact, she turned 99 on October 24th. She says that the only problem she had with Sis was that she had written her after she had me up here in New York for about a month. She says, why don't I be the mother and you be the aunt? And she said, no way. I am his mother, you know, so she would never just deny me, but she knew the love that her sister had for me, and she also knew the love that I had for her. There's this person doing a documentary in my life, and his name is Cootie. And he asked me, cootie, speak to my mother, who was in a nursing home out in Long Island. And so I called my mom because she's Scorpion and she sometimes can be rather cantankerous. And I didn't want her to be, you know, I couldn't barge in on her. So I said, I want to come and see you while I bring some young men with me. And they have a camera and they're going to ask you some questions. Are you all right with that? She says, it'll be fine. And so she. And when she speaks like that, I know everything is okay. So we went out there and I heard a story that I had not heard about my beginnings. She said that I was in the home for unwed mothers. That's where she had me. And she was staying there. And the nurse came to her and said, you have a visitor downstairs. And she said, I hold the baby. And obviously I was the baby. And so she said, she went downstairs and she saw this well dressed woman, very attractive colored woman, who said to her, asked her, are you Maddie Mae? That's my mother's name? And she said, yes, I'm Mattie Mae. Says I am the wife of the man who impregnated you. My mother said she almost fainted because she didn't know that this guy she had gotten together with was married at all. She had no knowledge that he was married. So that was a shock to her that he was married. So then she says, what I will do is take your child off your hands. And she referred to me as a burden. I will relieve of this burden and I'll raise him in my family, and he'll never know the difference. She said she had kids already by the sky, but Mommy said, no, I want my son. And when she said that, it actually almost made me cry because she let me know that even though she wasn't happy with the circumstances, she liked me. She wanted me to be with her.

8:51

Yeah.

13:31

And I just had an extra dose of love when she told me that, because. But then when Kuti Esther says, you kept him, but then you gave him to your sister, why did you do that? She said. And she was so clear, she says, I gave him to my sister because my sister loves him and he love her. And it was obvious. And then the other thing is that she had met a man, and she had gotten married to this other man that she met. And I was here already, of course, but I didn't like the guy that she married for some reason. The energy, the vibe, the spirit wasn't there, wasn't connecting. And she tried her best to get us to blend and bond. And so she told me his name was Harold. She says, harold, why don't you take Charles to barbershop, get him a haircut? And I guess that's a good way to get a child to bond with their father, with the man that's going to be his father.

13:31

Yeah.

14:36

So he said, okay. So he took me to the barbershop. And she said she sat at the window waiting to see us walk down the street together. From that experience, she wanted to know how it went. And she said she saw us walking back to the apartment, and we weren't holding hands. And I thought that was kind of peculiar because I guess me being three, I should have probably been holding his hand, I guess. Yeah, but we weren't holding hands, she said, but we were walking side by side, and everything seemed to be okay. So then when they got upstairs, she says, well, how did it go, Harold? How was it? And he said. She said, and he said, I'll never take him any place again, ever, ever. She said, what did he do? What was the problem? He talked to everybody like he was some kind of ambassador, just running up and down the barbershop, talking to people he didn't know, those folks, strangers. He just. Oh, my God. He just out of control. And she looked at how. And she says, that's who he is, Harold. And that's when she realized that he could not be my father.

14:38

Yeah.

15:45

And so that's when she decided to give me to her sister to have her raise me. And she said. She called you. She said, I called my sister right away and said, I want you to raise Charles. And she said her sister lived about a mile from her. She said she was there in, like, about two minutes. She said she doesn't know how she got over there so fast. When she got over there, just lickety split, ready to take me right then and there. But she was. She was my heartbeat. Her sister really was life for me. She was everything that I needed in my life. I mean, at least I felt that in my heart, you know? And she was. I mean, she did. She did a lot. Listen, she prepared me for school. When I went to school. I knew how to write my name in cursive. I didn't print. I knew how to. I knew my ABCs, I knew how to count. She was my first teacher. She did a super job. She was really my guiding light from the time that I started living with her. There's no doubt about it.

15:45

Wow. God, what a story. I mean, incredible gesture of your mother to have loved you that much and given you to someone who was able to show you love in the way that you needed and were her sister.

16:48

Yeah. You know, I had to see that as an act of love. Because when you love someone, all you really want for them is the best situation for them.

17:05

Yeah.

17:16

And because even though she knew that this guy she was marrying, she said when they got married, she said when the key would come in the door, when you would come home from work or whatever, she said I would tune up. And I guess that was an expression back then that meant that I was getting ready to cry and I couldn't tell what's on the other side of the door. But for some reason, I just didn't particularly care for this guy.

17:17

Yeah. Yeah.

17:43

When it comes to the new Melania movie, here are some important numbers to remember. 40 million. That's how much Amazon paid Melania Trump's production studio for the rights to the film. It's the highest price ever paid for a documentary. 35 million. That's about how much Amazon spent marketing the film. 28 million. How much went to the first lady? And 7 million. That's how much the Melania movie made on opening weekend, which is honestly pretty good and certainly more than many box office insiders projected. So how did this movie get made? Who's it for? And if this is finally Melania Trump's side of the story, what does she have to say? That's coming up on Today explained from vox. Listen weekday afternoons, wherever you get your podcasts.

17:45

I first heard your music in clubs when I was a teenager, and then I had your record right on. And many years later I made this sweater that I'm wearing now with the Last Poets written on and I couldn't find out like what was going on with the band. And then after a while I got an email saying, you're treading in murky waters. Why are you using our name? So I was thinking, oh my God, you know, this is an homage to the people I admire so much. And then you and Babatunde and Umar came to London and you came for dinner at my house and then we, we made a deal. And I wondered if what's the most surprising place you've seen your work crop up and. Cause I read that David Bowie cited the Last Poet's album as one of his all time top 25 records.

18:44

You know, it was just a strange moment because someone had one of your shirts on as an actress and she was on a show on tv and someone called me and said, why don't you tell me you got some last photo power out. And I said, what are you talking about? One of the actresses, known actress, black actress, had on a shirt that said the last Bullets. And I said, I don't know anything about this. So Umar, when he found out, he got the lawyer in the case and investigated and found out that you were doing stuff with the Last Poet's name on it. And so that's when that meeting occurred to your house and had the meeting which was I enjoyed meeting you, your husband, your son, and all those pictures of those photographs of the half naked woman up on the wall. I was blown away with the photographs that were on your wall. It was interesting. And the food. I thought I was looking forward to you. I thought your husband had done the cooking, but he had ordered Thai food. But it was good. I loved Thai food. It was all tasty. But it was really interesting because. And then I was just, I was really doubly blown away that the fact that you were connected to Sigmund4, that you was great, that you was granddaughter, I mean I just thought that was amazing because I've always had A lot of respect and a lot of. I just thought that he was a tremendously great social scientist. I mean, you know, he did some things that were way above the norm of what social scientists have done. So, I mean, that was just. I thought it was a very pivotal moment. And the fact that I had no idea of why you had chosen to use the name of the Last Poets. And then you told somebody you thought that it was a mythical name. You didn't know that the group existed. I don't know what it was that was the inspiration. But the name has always been a very definitive name. It's like it has a definition that is a final statement, you know, and it's a statement unto itself. And I think that that was one of the reasons why we even adopted it, because it made a statement without you having to hear the content.

19:52

Yeah.

22:24

If these folks are going to say they're the Last Poets, that's like saying this is the last. They have the last word, that their final call. They are the end of it, or whatever. But it's a definitive statement. It's not just a frivolous expression to make a group sound slick. It's a real serious statement that has more depth to it than most statements or most names of other groups. So I was very curious about you and about the whole reason that. Why you had used it. But at the same time, I thought that it was. Listen, the relationship that was established, I'm very proud of. I'm proud of the fact that I know you and that the stuff that you've been making has been selling and that we made a deal to at least receive some royalties from that. And I think all. It's been beneficial. I think it's been beneficial to all of us. And at the same time, the message is. Is constantly being reverberated. I just came off of a cruise and I was treated like I was the Pope of Poetry. I mean, the other. All the. Because I did not realize that if you were recording artists during that period when the Last Poets first came on the scene, you almost. You were required to listen to our first album just because it was a recording. And no one had ever recorded anything remotely close to what we had done. And I didn't realize the impact that we had had on the recording industry. I knew that the people had loved it because our first album sold a million copies without any kind of social media. But being on a cruise with groups like Delphonics and the Spinners and Heat Wave and Evelyn Champagne King and Full Force and Izzy Brothers and. I mean, and the way they were reviewing, the way they spoke about how they revered us and how they always looked forward to hearing what we had to say, it really blew my mind because they were all very much in tune. They put us on to do the show on the cruise at 10 o' clock in the morning on a Monday morning. I was very upset. I just said, who in the hell is going to be up at 10 o' clock to come to the world stage? Because on the boat, and this is the Holland Cruise Line and the Holland boat is, understand that's the top of the line of cruise ships inside, the world stage looks like Carnegie Hall. I mean, to think that you could build a place like that on a boat, that's amazing. It's amazing. And we saw the place because we went there for a sound check. I was very impressed. It has tiers just like with Carnegie Hall. I mean, it was like a major, super state of the arts concert hall on the ship. And within. They told us it was going to be 10 in the morning. I said, who in the hell is going to come up, get up at 10? And these folks are partying all night until 1:00 o' clock in the morning and listening to other groups perform. 10 o' clock in the morning. That's ridiculous. I mean, breakfast was the last part. I mean, this is crazy. I mean, I was very upset. I mean, I really was. I was actually very angry. So my niece who was organizing, she said that the reason was this is the first time they've had poets on the cruise and they've had a. Soul Train has been doing this for about 14 years. But this would be. We're the first poets to be presented in this Soul Train cruise. So they weren't sure how this was going to work or if it was going to work at all because all the major groups were performing in the evening, which is mostly when you perform. And so it just was like a little test, I suppose. But I wasn't happy with the idea. All I can tell you is that morning the place was packed. Everybody and their mama was there. It was unbelievable. And for the rest of the time that we were on the cruise, the ship was buzzing. I would go walk from one section to another and I'd have to take about six or seven selfies with people because they wanted my picture. And then they were quoting what I was saying. Like this one thing I actually. One of the things that I wanted to emphasize being on this cruise was that you were on a boat and we're celebrating and we're having a wonderful time. This is jubilation. We're just enjoying ourselves. We're drinking and partying and just having a great time, I said. And I wanted people to be reminded of the fact we came over here on a boat and we weren't having a good time. So I have a Peace Corps coming to America, and it's a piece of Bobatoon. And I had done it in a little album that we've never really put out called Omitutu. And it just describes the Middle Passage, the travel from Africa to America in chains on a boat. And I break it down. I give you the whole vivid image of that experience, being chained together, stacked and packed like lumber on top of each other. And I talk about the boughs and the puke and the piss and the disgust of a people made slaves made a stench in the hull of the ship. I give you the whole breakdown. I talk about the callousness of the slave merchants. And I wanted to give these folks while we were on the ship. So that was the first one I did. And each set the tone for the concert. And it was so riveting. For the next few days, people were coming up to me, just letting me know how it affected them. They were quoting lines. And I even made a statement. I said, we have to stop saying that the white man divides and conquers. He doesn't do that. He conquers the divided. And people started quoting me. I mean, I have had more flowers given to me during these last few days than I've ever received. I mean, it was unbelievable. And it was primarily. And I wanted just to remind folks, yeah, we're on a boat, but I want to make it clear, but we're gliding over a graveyard of an underground railroad made of bones at the bottom of the sea. Because a lot of our ancestors decided they were not going to come to the New World. And they jumped overboard. And so they just said, I will wait for my next turn. I don't like this one. And I wanted folks to just have that in their memories. And I successfully did that. And because of that, our impact, the love, the reverence for us has gone up at least a thousand notches. And I had a great chance to experience that. And I'm just grateful that. That I could do that in this particular moment in time.

22:24

Yeah, because when you were 15, you changed your name from Charles Davis to Abjuddhan Iowole.

30:03

Yes.

30:11

And I wondered what happened at 15, and what made you want to explore.

30:11

What happened is, you know, when you. I went to All Boys high school on 59th street and 10th Avenue. And the moments of freedom that I had were days. If you had a half a day, you didn't tell your parents because they would expect you to be home, you know, the half a day. So a half a day was free time. And if I had a half a day, me and a friend of mine would just. We'd go to one or two places. Either go to the Village and see the beatniks and all the freaky people that were hanging out in the Village, or we come to Harlem. Because I was raised in Queens, New York. And Queens is just a residential neighborhood. It's quiet, there's nothing much exciting happening in Queens. But Harlem was vibrant. Harlem was unapologetically black and powerful. Just had a certain energy. And we would come to Harlem just so for the excitement of it all. And it was an African looking edifice on 119th street and Lenox Avenue. And the only thing I knew about Africa was watching Tarzan movies. So I started saying all the stuff that Tarzan used to say on tv. I'm sitting in front of this stair, I'm saying, buana buwana, ooga booga, ooga booga. I'm just making. I'm just acting a fool, I'm acting silly. And this light skinned guy wearing African clothes came out and he was a light skinned black person. And I'm saying he doesn't look African because all Africans were dark skinned. He didn't have a stereotypical African look to me, but he was fully dressed in African garb. And I remember he had a cigar and he was smoking a cigar and he said, why don't you come inside, you might see something else that would interest you. I know he heard me clowning the place, but he was very cool. So he brought me in. So I went inside and then it was kind of spooky because there were masks all over the place and it was just strange. It was really a lot of African art, but had never been around a bunch of African art like some statues here and just had a different kind of vibration. He gave me a black stone to hold in one hand and a white chalky stone to hold in the other. And he told me to shake and separate. So I shook them in my hands and I had one in each hand and I would. He'd say, just hold me your fist. And when I point to your fist, open it up. So it was a process. He'd point to my right hand and I'd open it up. And he would see what I was holding, and he'd write something down. And he'd point to my other hand and do the same thing. That went on for about maybe five minutes, maybe 10 minutes. And then he says, well, your name is Aviodun Oyewole.

30:17

Wow.

33:17

I said, no, it isn't. I said, my name is Charles Davis. He called me Chucky. Matter of fact, Lucky Chucky, because I had made a great jump shot that won a game for us. So I said lucky Chucky because it was like a lucky shot, but it went in and we won the game. And I like the fact that my name was Chuck. And so. And I was happy with my name. I wasn't. I had no problems with that. And now this guy is saying, my name is Abi Adul. He said, no, that's your slave name. I said, I'm not a slave. He said, we have names that were given to us by the people who colonized. He gave me some history that I had not heard, I didn't know nothing about. And then he. And he said, well, listen, if you decide to use it. He wrote my name down the way it was spelled. Then he wrote it down phonetically so I could say it. And then he wrote down the meaning of it. So Rabio Dune, he who brings joy into the town, is what my first name means. It's a name given to a child born during a festive occasion. So if a child is born during a festive occasion, that's a reason for more celebration. And then my last name, Oyewole, means good fortune follows me. So now I had the name. I got the meaning. I got the phonetics. But it just didn't sound like I was not familiar with the Yoruba religion. Abby o' Doone didn't even sound African. It sounded Irish to me. O'. Doe. I just. I wasn't feeling any of that stuff. But he did, and he wrote everything on a piece of paper. I remember I folded the paper up and I put it in my wallet. And I had the paper for a long time. And every now and then I would look at it. But I was hanging out with some of my friends in Harlem, and we were in a school listening to some black guy. I forget his name. But he was talking and he said. And all you. You colored people out there happy to be called by your slave master's name. Mark and John and Paul and myself. So he was really kind of saying some stuff that that was. It was strong. And I was. I understood what you're saying. So I told my friends, I said, I ain't got no slave name. And so they said, man, your name is Chuck. That's what we call white men. We say, chuck is coming. We talk about the white man's coming. That's your name. They started making jokes. I said, my name is Abiodune. And if nobody. I said, if you don't call me that, I'm not going to answer you. And they said, oh, come on, man. I said, really? If you don't call me Abi Odoon, I am not answering you. So I went on cold turkey with Chuck, and I made all my friends call me Abba Odoon. I remember my mother, I ranched my mother, my natural mother, at the bus stop in Queens. And I told her that I had changed my name from Charles Saabiyadu. And she said, were you crazy? I gave your grandfather's name, a perfectly fine name. What is your problem? I said, he didn't know and you didn't know. And I know that we have African roots, and I'm adopting. I'm reclaiming our roots. And she just said, you're losing your mind. And now if you speak to my mother, she says my name better than I do. I mean, she's proud of what I've done, and she knows the significance of my life, and she even knows why I changed my name. But it was a real trip going through that name situation because I was very popular being Chuck, and I was a known. I was. I've always basically been a person, a people person.

33:17

Yeah.

36:57

And I have a lot of friends. But when I changed my name, I also began to read more and gain more information about how we got to America, what it was all about. And I realized that slavery had existed long before the slavery that we went through. But the difference is that during slavery, you weren't required to get rid of your name, your culture, your religion, your customs. This is the only slavery that's recorded on the planet where our identity was totally erased. And that was a real. That is still a problem today. Many of us don't have any connections with Africa because we've been taught to dislike it, to not see it as being important, and to actually hate it, which causes many of us to hate ourselves. And that was all deliberately done. And I'm just glad that at least at the age that I changed, I began to open up my eyes and see the real truth. And it's made a big difference. And I think that I'm much more sane because of it.

36:57

Because you said your mother made you practice the Lord's Prayer in the basement.

38:12

And my mother, again, she was my first teacher, and she was my first vocal coach. She had told the pastor of our church, Reverend CB Wilson, easter Sunday is a big deal in the church, at least in a black Baptist church. Yeah, they have Easter pageants. They have all kinds of celebration. And my mother had put my name on her list to recite the Lord's Prayer Easter Sunday. I was 10 years old. I had nothing to do with the fact that I was going to do this. This is my mother deciding that I should do the Lord's Prayer. So she put my name on the list. Reverend Wilson announced to the church, and Sister Davis son is going to recite the laws for. And they said, oh, praise the Lord. Amen. Everybody was so happy. And I was like, okay. You know. And I knew the Lord was praying because a part of my raising was I had to say my prayers before I went to bed. That was a part. That was a routine. You have to get on your knees and say your prayers, and then you go to bed. So I knew the Lord's Prayer backwards and forwards. But what she was going to do, I had no idea. We get to the house in Queens. I was raised in Queensland, and she says, I want you to go downstairs in the basement and say the Lord's Prayer so I can hear you upstairs in the kitchen. I said, my mother's crazy. She decided, that doesn't make sense. You don't yell a prayer. It's a prayer. How can she hear me upstairs in the kitchen if I'm in the basement? That doesn't make any sense.

38:17

So.

40:01

But that's what she told me to do. So I said, well, if she wants to hear me, I gotta yell. So I said, I will. She said, and, man, she came running downstairs and hit me in my stomach. She said, don't you yell. You pray. Don't you yell the Lord's Prayer. And I wanted to say, well, how else could I do it? She just. Well, she hit me in my stomach. She said, you put that air in that stomach, and you just opened up your mouth. You got a big enough mouth, it'll come out. You have to yell the prayer. Just put the air in the stomach. You hear me? In my stomach. And you just say it. Just. And say the words right. Pronounce every word. Because she was a real sickler about that. She didn't even like me talking slang in the house. She always wanted me to be articulate. She was Very serious about how I spoke. And I kind of felt that I was separating myself and my friends in the projects because they would slur their words, they say stuff, and it sounds slick and fancy. My mother wasn't having it. She wanted me to speak cleanly and clearly, and it was a trip. But anyway, I did exactly. I said it exactly the way she wanted me to say it. I have to go back over phrases. If I said, our Father, who art in heaven. No, say it different. I say it different. Who art in heaven, I say, okay. So I have to go back. We went to this old pattern. So when Easter. So when Easter Sunday came, Reverend Wilson took the microphone. That's usually his mic at the pulpit when he's talking to the congregation. So he took it down, he put it on the floor for me to recite the Lord's Prayer. My mother jumped up and she grabbed that mic, said, he don't need no mic. And the church went crazy. They said, whoo. Praise the Lord. And here I am at 10 years old without a mic, reciting the Lord's Prayer in front of. At least. There must have been about maybe a thousand people in that church. But I realized that my mother had set me up to run my mouth.

40:01

So fantastic. Amazing that someone that. That story has gone into oral history that they're still talking about was absolutely.

42:04

I mean, I learned how to project. I mean, we had a gig at Boston College one time. And the guy that was a sound man, he was racist. And I could feel it when I first saw him. He just. He wasn't too keen on the Last poets being there. And when it came time for me to be saying I was going to do the poem when the Revolution Comes, which is a popular piece, that's one where party and bullshit came from.

42:16

Yeah.

42:42

And we had a room full. Everybody was there. It was crowded. And as soon as I got on the mic, the mic went dead. And then I look up at the sound booth, and the guy, he shrugs his shoulders like he doesn't know what happened. And I got angry, and I said, this is ridiculous. So I slammed the mic on the floor and did when the Revolution Comes without the mic. The place went crazy.

42:43

Oh, wow.

43:09

I just. I just belted it out.

43:09

Yeah.

43:11

And. And I. And I said, I bet that'll learn you. I don't need a mic. I could do it without the mic. And I. I rocked it. That was one of the. The most moving performances because I just felt that he was trying to upset the show.

43:12

Yeah.

43:28

By turning my mic off. It's okay.

43:29

Your training came, became good.

43:32

He didn't know that. He didn't know about my mother.

43:34

And the Last Poets were formed in May 1968 on Malcolm X's birthday. And an early review described the music as acerbic, exciting and as politically uncompromising as anything ever recorded. Frightening and beautiful. Is that what you were aiming for?

43:39

Yeah, but basically, I mean, you know, it was a moment, you know, I had a chance on this cruise. I had a chance to talk to Ernie Isley, who is a guitar player for the Isley Brothers. And I told him, I said, you know what? Our music always reflects our temperament and what's happening with us. Black people have a way of using our music to communicate how we're feeling about everything. And the Ozzie Brothers had a song out during that time called it's yous Thing. Do what yout Want To Do. It's your thing do what you want to do I can't tell you who to sock it to. And I remember when they killed King on April 4, 1968, when Dr. King got assassinated, I lost my mind because my mother revealed Dr. King, she saw him almost like as the second coming of Christ. Dai Jo My father, the man who was married to my mother, who was my aunt and all that, but they were my parents. And I called. His name was Joseph Davis. I called him Daddy Joe, right? Daddy Joe did not think King was smart. He thought that he was being stupid in the south. Talking about not love and non violence. He said, he said, because he was raised in Savannah, Jordan, he says, them white people down there, they sleep with their guns. The man is going to get killed. He's talking crazy. You can't talk to somebody that's about using a gun all the time and tell them to be non violent. That's not going to happen. And so he didn't have any respect for Dr. King. But because I love my mother so much, I like King too. But at the same time, I understood what Deja was saying. But I did feel hurt because when King got killed, a lot of black folks got totally were wrecked. Because he was the person that was trying to help us get at least some equal rights in this country. So I called David and I had met each other a year before the group started because David had. He was the director of an anti poverty program. And I worked as the assistant director. That was one of my first jobs just before I went to college as assistant director of recreation. In other words, if the kids wanted to play basketball, I could do basketball. Go play basketball. If they wanted to play volleyball, I could do volleyball. Whatever the activity was, I simply handled the equipment and played with the kids. And I got paid for that. And it was so funny, because during that same summer, while I was working with David, my father died. He had gone to hospital for calcium deposits on his knee, and he caught pneumonia while he was in the hospital and died. And I remember I was in a basketball court with the kids that day. And David. David's kind of awkward. He Sometimes he's just out of sync and doesn't know how to say things. He came onto the court and he said to me, I guess you want to go home because your father just died.

44:00

Gosh.

47:13

I said, what? Your father died. I guess you want to go home. I couldn't believe he was saying that to me so casually. First of all, Daddy Joel should have been dead for calcium deposit on his knee. Yeah, that's not a major operation. All I do is just scrape the calcium off your knee. What are you talking about? Even though he was a mean man, he used to beat me all the time, and I wanted to kill him personally. I couldn't see him being dead. I just couldn't. It blew me away. But he had. But during that time that I knew David, when I first met him, he was writing poetry and writing some of it in Spanish because he knew Spanish, how to speak Spanish. And I had just started writing a little bit because my high school teacher told me I was a poet. I didn't know I was a poet. I became. My knowledge of poetry came out. The fact that we could do these vocabulary words every week and have to look them up and put them in a composition. And of course, you know, the composition. You'd be rated on the composition and all that stuff. So Ms. Carpenter was my English teacher, and she gave us 10 vocabulary words. And she said, you know, put them in the composition. I have to look them up, and all that stuff. And I told her, if I put these words in a poem, can I get extra credit? So she looked at the list, and she said, if you put these words in a cohesive poem, you'll get two extra credits. So now I'm being challenged. And so I wrote a poem called Emancipation. And anyway, the poem was. She said it was a great poem. It won a contest. I didn't even attend the judging of the contest. None of that stuff. Because I was not believing in myself being. I wanted to be a doctor. I had majored. Biology was one. I got the highest score in Regents Exam in Biology. My Chinese friends killed the chemistry, the physics and the math. They just wiped. They just took all those awards. And I told my Chinese friend Tom, I said, listen, I'm gonna get the biology award. He says, no, you're not. So we had this competition, and I won the biology award.

47:14

Really.

49:30

And I felt really good about it because I was. I had been watching Ben Casey and Dr. Kildee on television. So I think that. And Ben Casey was a big influence. Because I wanted to be a neurosurgeon like Dr. Ben Casey. And so that was like an influence in my life. And that was what you from a TV show. But my teacher, when she read my poem, she says, I know you're writing. And I know you didn't take this from anybody. You're a natural poet. She says, I don't know what you're going to do with it, but you have that at your disposal. So I did. When they killed Dr. King, I did write a poem called Wall Street Journal. And I was sharing. I shared it with. With David. And he had been sharing some stuff with me. And so David said, man, listen, don't do nothing stupid. I'm gonna put your name. And I met this other guy named Garland Cain. I put out names on a list of juicy poetry at Mount Morris park on Malcolm's birthday. And so I felt good at one point. But people don't realize that I was scared to death. Because I'm not from Harlem. I'm from Queens. Harlem had a different kind of vibe, different energy. And I didn't know if I could get on stage and do a poem that was going to be appealing to the Harlem residents. So I didn't have no idea what could I. Cause the poem I had written that my teacher liked. I knew I couldn't do Emancipation. Cause it was like a love poem. I had been dealing with this sister who was older than me. And we were having issues. So I just. I morphed all the issues I was having with her into this poem, Emancipation. And it was a nice poem. But the fact is, it wasn't any kind of poem that you do for a crowd that's there to celebrate a revolutionary leader like Malcolm X. I mean, God, Lee. And I didn't know what I was going to do. And so I came to Harlem. And that's when the whole. Having a chance to talk to Ernie Isley on this cruise was so vital. Because they had a song called it's yous Thing. Do what you want to do. And I went to Harlem to try to Find out what I was going to write. I was just listening and observing everything. And people were talking about how a guy would walk up to another guy and say, yo, man, what's your thing, Man, I'm in the Nation of Islam. Then a guy might walk up to another guy, said, what's your thing? Guy said, I'm a Black Panther. So I'm just listening, and everybody is purposing their conversation with, what's your thing? So I'm realizing that your thing became like a revolutionary pronoun. How are you affiliated with the movement? Because there was a movement going on. There was a civil rights movement. And when the civil rights movement was killed by the killing of King, the black power movement came into play almost immediately. And so we went from civil rights to black power. And so then I put that together and I went home and I wrote a poem called, what is your thing, brother? Is it a black thing? Will save black women and children? Will build a black nation. What is your thing? Will it make black? Will make brothers love sisters more. I just dealt with all the issues that we were having with each other, and I referred to it as your thing. Is your thing doing that, you know, or you ain't got no thing at all. And I would just. I played with the world thing because that was a part of the theme of the whole piece. And so that became the very first poem I did with the last poets. It worked out because I also had. I have this. I had this idea that since David wanted us to be a group on stage, we didn't have a name, but we to go up on stage as a unit. Because this whole idea, which David has wonderful, wonderful ideas. He's a great dreamer. But dreams don't live on their own. They have to be activated. So I said, well, you know, in order for us to be seen as a group, we've had to go up on the stage as a group. I said, let's see if we can sing together. Well, I had an idea for a song, but David couldn't hold notes. You handed it to him. Cain was tongue deaf. I didn't have. I was the only one that could really sing. But I had seen a chant. I heard a chant being done by some students at Howard University. Howard University had a president that they didn't like. They had an effigy of them hanging from a tree, and they were marching around the tree. I was chanting and singing, are you ready, niggers? You got to be ready. Are you back? And I never heard the word nigger on TV before. Because when they advertised this demonstration in Howard, they had them doing that chant and blew me away that they actually played that on television. But Kane had a poem entitled niggers are untogether people. David had a poem entitled are you ready, black people? And I had my poem, what is your thing, brother? So it all seemed to fit with the. The idea of us singing, are you ready, niggas? And so I just told David and Cain, I said, let's all chant, are you ready, niggers? You got to be ready. Are you ready, niggers? You got to be ready. And so. And we go. Once they're chanting that, that will confirm the fact that we are a group. And then there was this guy named Hakeem on the drums, and he was. The dancers had just finished performing, and he was packing up, and I told him to stay and play behind us. And he played a beat, gave us a beat, and as they say, the rest is history. By the time we got to the middle of the stage, the entire park was singing, are you ready, niggas? It was a moment that I will remember forever because it put us on the map. And then David was the one that did the research for the name, and that's when he came across Cocasuli's poem. But that was the beginning, and it was a special moment.

49:30

Cause when your first album came out, you were actually imprisoned for robbing the Ku Klux Klan local offices to get some bail money to release some pranks.

55:40

When the album came out. Yeah, I was locked up. I was incarcerated. And that was a real. You know, I kind of felt like I was missing the revolution. It was kind of funny. But I was also getting wind of how impacting it was because guys were coming in prison quoting me, and I couldn't tell anybody that that was me they were quoting, but I was. There was one guy who I befriended, he's from Charlotte, North Carolina, named Jonathan Bird. And he came over to my bunk because I worked in the prison hospital, and we lived in a dormitory. And he come over to my bunk and he said, new York, New York, the Big Apple. That's one of the pieces on the album. That's one of the pieces I wrote. And my name in prison was. I had two names, New York. And the other name that they would refer to me as was called the Writer. I was called the Writer because I wrote all the time. And plus, I had about 12 wives while I was in prison because there are a lot of guys that couldn't write, and they wanted somebody to write letters to their wives to keep their marriages going on. So they paid me five pieces of plastic, which is like $5, to write letters for them, to keep the communication between their girlfriends or their wives. And I'd have to hear stories, of course. So I got stories that they couldn't even put on tv, you know, about the relationships that they were having with these women prior to them being busted. So I had some juicy stories. Oh, my goodness. And I would write in the language that they spoke because I didn't want them to think that this was a ghostwriter. I wanted them to think that it came from that person. I even misspell words sometimes just to try to make it sound like they did it, you know? Yeah, but this day, when Bird came over to my bunk and he said, new York, New York, the Big Apple, I couldn't take it anymore. So. And because I was talking to him all the time, because he was enchanted Body pack. I was always writing. And he said, what are you doing? Writing a book? I said, yeah, I'm writing a book. He said, man, this is his third time on this bid, and I've been wanting to write a book about my experiences. I said, well, what are you talking about? You want to write a book? You in here? You might as well just go and start writing, man. I mean, I'm not going to serve time. I'm going to get time to serve me. So he said, wow, that's a good idea. That's great, man. I like that way of thinking. So he would write his book during the day because we both worked in the prison hospital, and you don't have anything to do. Sometimes you're just sitting at the table with the gauzes and the alcohol, whatever your patients might need, but you got time. So I would write, and then we would share what we wrote in the evening Today. So that was like our TV show. We were entertaining each other, and we were making progress with our writing. And so when he came in my section and he said. I said, bro. I said, that's my shit, man. He said. He says, what do you mean, that's mine? Yeah, I know the whole poem, man. Them cats are bad. They from New York. I said, that's where I'm from. He says. He says, new York. Are you okay? I said. I said, yes, I'm fine. He says, look, you were in here when I came in here. This album just came out. I said, that album was recorded in 1969. It's just been released now in 1970. But it was done about six months ago. He says, are you all right? I said, yes, I'm fine. So now I know it's difficult. I'm in prison in North Carolina. These guys are from New York. This is a product that came out of New York City. How in the world. What in the world would make somebody believe that I'm not crazy? I mean, you know, because this doesn't make any sense. But I figured out the way that we could solve the problem. I told Bird, I said, look, write your wife. Cause his wife would come to visit him every Sunday. She was really religious about seeing her man. I said, write your wife. Tell her to bring the album cover with her to the back hall. That's where the businesses took place. I said, you can only look. You can only look at it, but look on the front and you'll see my picture. Then come back and tell me who I am.

55:54

God, so great.

1:00:22

And that was the beginning of nothing but a problem, because he came back, tears in his eyes. What are you doing here, man? You my hero. What are you doing? I said, I committed a crime. Obviously, that's why I'm here. I said, I don't need any more publicity, you know, and I know who I am. Let it be just between you and I. But, you see, you can't stare at somebody in prison. When you're in prison, you got to be careful, because there are guys that's trying to make you a girl any chance they get. And so if you're staring at another inmate, everybody's gonna notice that. And it's like you're trying to set this guy up for some kind of something might happen, you know, like. And you just cannot stare in the cafeteria. He's staring at me. Overtime. I said, bird, you got to stop, man. I can't believe that you in here. I said, believe it, Bird. I'm in here with you. Just keep it to yourself. I was so happy. About maybe a month. Maybe a month and a half later, he got transferred. I was. Oh, God, I was so glad, because he was. He was blowing my cover. I didn't need to have any more publicity. What I had done was bad enough. I got a lot of publicity. And I didn't even realize that I got respect from my corrections officer because of what I had done. And the respect showed up with the fact that I never had to stand in the circle, wait for my name to be called to let me in. If I had any mail. If I had any mail. All I had to do was go look under my pillow. And my mail was there. And I even asked Perry one time. I said, I don't know why Perry puts my mail into my pillow. I don't brown nose Perry. I don't even say good morning to him. I just. I mind my business. I do. He says. He says, new York. Who else is in here for robbing the Klan? He said, you crazy, man? He said, they respect you. I said, they respect me because I robbed them. He said, yeah. I said, wow, that's deep. I said, I couldn't put it together, but if I had any mail at all, it would be under my pillow. And I got me a little old son. Wow. All the time. She wrote me regularly, you know, until I went, oh, that's another story. Anyway, the fact is that prison experience was a very. It was a worthwhile experience that I will treasure as a part of a necessary growth of my mind, body and soul.

1:00:23

Because you did a college degree in prison, is that right?

1:02:55

I did. What did you.

1:02:58

You completed a college degree in prison?

1:03:00

Yep, at Shaw University. My custody was changed from maximum to medium. They had two programs for you. Work release or study release. And work release is like being a chauffeur for the governor or mowing his lawn or being a waiter doing something menial like a slave. And study release meant that you could go to college and get your education, but they don't give you no scholarship from prison. So when they asked me what would I do if I had my custody changed to me and what program would I like to be connected with? I said, I'd like to finish my education at Shaw University. And I remember the woman on the parole board, she said, well, we don't give money for folks to go to Shaw. And the last time I recall, Shaw charges tuition. And according to the money you have in the back hall, that is not going to pay for tuition. I said I had other sources of money because I wasn't gonna pour my money in the back hall. That's where we had the money. I mean, you know, you have your. I had money in the back hall for toiletries, you know, toothpaste and candy, you know. But the check, the first royalty check from the first album had come through, and I gave my lawyer permission to give that check. Matter of fact, I was kind of insulted when he wrote me and said, you have a royalty check, and I have to get permission from you before I give it to your wife. And I'm thinking it's automatic. You should give it to her, because, you know, that's my wife. But he said. And the reason he said that is because he says, a lot of times things change when guys are locked up and their wives outside. So he just couldn't just automatically give it to her. I had to make that possible. But I had no idea that things were going to really change. And things had changed, but I was just. I thought she was, you know. Anyway, that was a whole other thing. But I had money, and I knew I could pay my tuition. And the woman just at the parole, she says, well, if you go to Shaw and you can't pay the tuition, you will come right back here and you can be right back in maximum security. So that would mean that I would lose that privilege. It just so happened that I did have enough money to get out and pay the tuition. And then there's a man on campus named OA Dupree. He's no longer with us, but he's like everybody's father. He's a father figure. And he hooked up, and he made it possible for me to get grants and stuff and all that, to finish the rest of my education. And I made it through financially, had no problem. Incredible. But it was an experience. It was a real wild experience because much of the money that I thought. I asked. I called BG up and said, I need $5,000. I wanted to buy some clothes, you know, because someone looked nice and paid a tuition. I think it was something like $1,200 or something. And I said, 75. I don't have 5,000. I said, what are you talking about? Well, I had to live. I said, oh, my God. I mean, I wanted to kill her. I could not believe she had gotten a check for $21,000. And what the hell? I mean, I was messed up. I really was. I mean, I really wanted to just come to New York City and kill her, get on the plane, get back to prison on time. I mean, I had plotted the whole thing, but I was just so upset. So upset. She took advantage of the situation, and I was totally. I was. I was messed up behind it. But anyway, things worked out. And I even apologized to her because I was saying. Because I was suffering because I couldn't be with anybody. I was locked up. I wanted you to be locked up, too. I said, that's unfair to you. I said, you needed love and comfort, and you found someone to give you that. And I should have not been so selfish to deny you a natural pleasure. And I just want to apologize. And I did. I apologize to her because I think. I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only one who has done that, because I asked her when I was given the time, when the judge said, I sent you to no less than 12, no more than 20 years. I was 20 years old. And I looked at her, I said, I'll be out when I'm 25. I said, you're gonna wait? She says, I'll wait. So I was good to go. At least I felt everything was gonna be okay. But she didn't wait. She hooked up with somebody about six months after I was in there, you know, so. And the problem was that they were also trying to get this person to call my. Have my son call him Daddy. And that messed me up, too. So I was angry for a minute, but I got over it all because my son and I are super close. And all that stuff is water under the bridge.

1:03:02

Yeah. Gosh. Because you said you fell in love with poetry through Langston Hughes, and I read that you started writing poetry to impress women. Do you still do that?

1:08:07

Oh, yes. Langston Hughes was without question. I think the first poem I read by him was A Dream Deferred, because that's the poem that opens up Lorraine Hansberry's Raisin in the Sun. And I was. I was introduced by him. My English teacher introduced me to Langston Hughes, and I just thought his poetry was so lyrical and so rich and Negro speaks of rivers. Oh, my goodness. It's a classic. I mean, that's still, for me, one of the best black history poems ever. And it's short, but he uses the rivers to talk about our history. Every river that he mentions, from the Nile to the Congo to the Mississippi, they're all really just metaphors to speak of the places we've been and the experiences we've had. And he uses the river to describe that, and it's just so special. And his work, you know, he was a real people's poet. He could speak directly to the pulse of the people. And if you're a poet and you're a poet for a particular group of folks, you got to know that group. You got to be around them, you got to feel them, you got to taste them, you got to smell them, you got to know their rhythm. And that's the fascination about being a poet, to be able to just morph yourself into the spirit of the people that you're trying to write about so that they can understand better. Because the poet really doesn't tell you anything new. The poet tells you what you think you know, but they just make you see it in A way that you've never looked at it before.

1:08:21

Yeah.

1:10:05

So that's what all poets, T.S. eliot, Fred Gay, Eli, all the poets provoke thought. If you're a poet and you don't provoke thought, you're not a poet. Stop saying you're a poet. You must provoke thought. And the thought doesn't come from a foreign place, it comes from someplace familiar. But it makes you recognize how deep that familiarity can be that you didn't search, you didn't go as deep as a poet. One of the people that I'll always revere in my life is Khalil Gibran, the Lebanese poet, the prophet. I don't. I mean, if you're a poet, I don't care what ethnic group, what ethnicity you are, you've got to have the prophet in your library. I mean, and he saved me from going crazy about my children. When you say, speak to us about children, he says, your children are not your children. They're the sons and daughters of life, longing for itself. That is absolutely true. And yet we always try to make our children be what we want them to be. They got their own path. I don't know what their path is going to be. And as a parent, you have to let your children go and find their own way. And hopefully, if you have a relationship with your child, you'll really be close. But you cannot determine what your child is going to do. You do not know their path. He describes the parent as the bow and the children as the arrows. And you shoot them off into space. You don't know where they're going to land, but you just hope that they land in a safe place. That's the way.

1:10:05

Yeah, yeah. So beautiful. And you've met all sorts of people. Miles Davis, Albert Ayler and Sun Ra. And you told me that you'd supported Nina Simone on tour once. And how did you get on with the great Nina?

1:11:34

Nina Simone was crazy. She's good and crazy and a genius, and I love her so much. We had a concert together, and she tried to douse me with cognac. But, see, and I blame David for that. David Nelson, one of the poets, he had done a song, a poem called Today is a Killer. And Nina's on her album Emergency Ward. She actually. That's another one of the uncanny things about Nina. She could take a poem and make it a song. She just had that gift. She was a gifted, extremely gifted artist. And so she took David's poem and made it into a song. And it's called Today Is a Killer. And it's very appropriate for today that we were in. I was this clown in the White House, and so there was a. I had a jazz group before I got back with the last poems. I always. I've always been a music person because singing was the first art that I got into as a kid. I've always sung, and my mother, she would promote that. The Everly Brothers was one of my favorite little groups. And they had the song, Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream, dream, dream, dream. And so she knew I knew that song if it came on the radio. She turned the radio down, had me sing it louder. If there was a neighbor outside, she called me to hear me sing. She was always supportive of everything I did. And so singing was something I really, truly enjoyed. So when I wasn't doing the last poet sing, I would put together some cats, and I had a jazz group, and I write songs, and I always had some nice jazz groups. So I had two different groups, and they both were called Griot, different players with the same name. And grill was a term that means African storyteller.

1:11:51

Oh, yeah.

1:13:47

So. And we were kind of popular in the city, and we were going around, had some great guy on piano named Casa Allah, a guy named Jeff King on sax, Andre Strober on drums, Meredith Rias Pearson on bass. Baba Femi. Brother I went to Shore University with. He's no longer with us. And a great flute player, and he could scat. And Tony Robinson on congas. I had a nice group, so the group was known. And it was this concert at the Beacon Theater, and we were asked to perform open up for Nia Simone. It was her show where we were going to be the opening act for her. And it was in the New York Times that Griot was opening up for Nina Simone as a Beacon. So David saw that, and he congratulated me, called me up. He said, yo, Dune, congratulations, man. He says, you guys are hot. You're gonna open up for Nina at the Beacon, man, That's such an honor. I said, yeah. I said, yeah, I'm looking forward to it. And I get a chance to meet my idol because I always idolize Nina. And Nina and Nancy Wilson were two of the singers that I loved most. So David says to me, look, man, you know, I did a poem that she turned to a song, and I know all her albums sell, but I haven't gotten any voltage check. Ask her about my voltage when you see it. I said, sure, no problem. Oh, man, I didn't know what I was Getting myself into. I'm at the backstage of the Beacon. I see Nina. She's coming into this. The stage. And my heart is beating a thousand times a second because I'm getting ready to meet a person I've revered all my younger life. And now I'm going to be on stage with her. And now I'm getting a chance to meet her face to face. So when she came up to me, I said, Ms. Simone, my name is Abby O'. Doon. I'm a member of the Last Poets. I know you know the group because you work with one of my partners, David Nelson. And he asked me about his royalties from the poem that you did on your album as you turned into a song. I said, is he married? I said, I don't know. I said, if he's married, tell him fuck his royalty check. If he's not, we can talk about it. I said, oh, shit. So she let me know right away that she was not exactly a friendly person. And then I started getting angry with David. I said, david must have known about her attitude. He set me up. And then the thing that really made it even worse was that two shows. Now, the second show, Robert Van Lewitt was the guy that was the producer of these shows. And he was the money behind the shows. So he actually told me, he said, listen, we're gonna get Nina on first. Your group, which everybody's loving, y' all can close out tonight. So that's a real honor. We're gonna close out tonight. But the problem is, it's Nina's show. She's the headliner, and she's in her dressing room drinking cognac. And everybody is tiptoeing around. And the people. The announcer said, nina will be on stage very shortly, but she ain't moving. And people started to clap. We want Nina. You can hear them across the street. And Van Loop is talking to security guards. Nobody can make her come downstairs. I don't know. I don't know what they were afraid of, man. And I started thinking to myself, you know, because this is a show, she can drink cognac for as long as she want. Then she go on stage and play for as long as she want. And at the end of her plan, it might be 12 o'. Clock. And I know that after 12 o', clock, you have to pay the stage hands everybody else time and a half. And I don't know if Van Loop's got money to pay extra money. And we might not get a chance to even go on. So I said, no, I Said, there's got to be at least two or three hundred people out there that want to hear my group. I'm gonna go and get Nina on that stage. Cause I don't want to miss this opportunity to perform. So I go in the dress room, I say, nina, I said, I know you hear these people applauding for you to come on stage. Who is this man? I said, I'm Avi Odun. I met you downstairs. You know who I am. I'm out here doing the Last person. I'm gonna ask the people if they want to hear a goddamn last poet or Nina Simone. I said, don't act so stupid. Why are you doing this? I said, people are waiting for you. They waited for me. They'll wait longer. I said, oh, my God. She was. I said, you know, you're being real stupid. I can't believe this. And that's when I just pissed her off well enough. And she took her. She was holding the glass of cognac in her hand, and she took glasses. I could see it coming. And I did the Matrix. And I got out of the way. That cognac hit the wall, not a speck out on me. And then Robert Bandlev had a security guard say, you know, what can I do? Make sure he stays away from the stage. But see, she wasn't going to bring that business what we had backstage, she wasn't going to bring that on stage. There's always two shows. I discovered that with a lot of the artists, they may argue, fuss, and fight backstage, but when people get on that stage, they become professional because they know that you just don't bring that message that happened backstage on stage. I was leaning right up against one of the floors. She could easily see me. I was right next to the piano. And I'm looking at her, and she's. She did her thing. She did Nina Simone and she sang and she put like she does when she plays piano, she play the blues, and she go into some Bach and Beethoven and Mozart. And she jumped up and get happy and do a little Nina Simone dance. And she saw me. She never brought up any of that stuff. And she did her show. And my group had time to go on after that. And when I went on and I said, in honor of our featured artists, this evening, I would like to do a poem. And Baba Finley, the brother who had gone to show with me and knew me very well, he gave me a look, say, oh, God damn. And he thought I was going to say something mean because we had just had this. But I wasn't gonna do that. I did Black Rose, which is one of my love poems. It's a classic love poem that actually was published with dead friends, and a video was done, too. And it's a love poem. And I figured, if Nina is that toxic, if she's that belligerent, she needs love. And I wanted to shout. And the people in the audience understood that, because when I finished that poem, everybody stood up like they understood exactly what I was trying to do. And it was a beautiful moment, and we successfully ended that show. It was a fantastic evening. But that was my wonderful experience with Nina Simone.

1:13:49

What a great experience, and what a story. That's incredible.

1:20:59

Yeah. God. And I've been forewarned by her. Her husband, Andy Stroud, because the day before, I'd gone there to do the paperwork, and he was taking care of her business. So when we. In the lobby before we left the Beacon, I said, well, man, it's nice to meet you, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. He said, oh, no, no, you won't see me tomorrow. I said, tomorrow's a show. This is a concert. He says, I know, and the tickets sold out. You should have a great time. I heard your group. Your group sounds great. Sound like you got it together, and you're going to have a wonderful time. I said, well, you got something to do? He said, nope, I have nothing to do. I said, but you can't come and see the show. He says, you don't understand. He says, nina trusts me. She knows I'll get the check. She knows I'm going to take care of business. But if she and I are in the same place at the same time, there's going to be a fight. Says, you'll find out. You'll meet her. You'll see. And I said, that's crazy. That doesn't make any sense. She said, he signed all the papers for her. He's taking care of all her business, but yet he's not going. It just didn't make any sense after I met her. I understand. I got it.

1:21:04

Amazing.

1:22:19

God. Yeah. Proof is in the pudding. Nina had issues. She's a brilliant. But, you know, we have quite a number of great artists who can flip on you. It's caused me to come up with this thing called the Theory of Laws. And I have this theory that says, appreciate the gift. Do not get caught up with the giver.

1:22:20

Right.

1:22:42

You might just hurt yourself.

1:22:42

Yeah.

1:22:44

Because the giver is not always on the one. The gift might be one of the greatest gifts you'll ever receive in life. But the person that delivered that gift, you might not want to have them over for lunch.

1:22:45

Yeah, I suppose it's like principles above personalities, isn't it? You just keep them separated, right? Yeah. And what were women wearing at the time, and what did you find attractive?

1:22:59

I've always revered women because, first of all, I'm a gardener. I love women, period. And when they have talent, it just excites me to see any woman perform, whether it's dancing, especially dancers, because I guess dancing is poetry in motion. And I'm really very fond of dancers. Nancy Wilson's always been, like, at the top of the line for me. She's just a sophisticated singer that just kind of would sing me to sleep.

1:23:15

And if you fancy someone and don't like what they're wearing, does it kill your attraction?

1:23:53

And what you're wearing does reflect how you're thinking, as far as I'm concerned. And I definitely have a thing about the appearance, because women, the one thing that I've always appreciated about women in general, women will uphold the culture. Africa is a classic example. You go to Africa right now, you will see more women wearing African garb. A lot of the men are wearing jeans and sneakers. And like I said, they wear suits and ties forever. They believe in that strike stuff. And you'll find some men that will wear the garb, but the woman will wear their African garb in a heartbeat. They'll have their heads. They have their gales on their heads. And they're wearing an African dress or something. Give me enough so that my imagination can soar. Give me. Give me a. Give me a dress that's got a split down the side where I can just see a little bit of your leg. So I can imagine what the rest of your leg looks like if you got the split coming all the way up your butt. And I could see your thigh and your leg and everything as you're walking. That's not attractive to me. I mean, give me something to let my imagination ride out the rest. Cause it's a po. The women will present poetry to me more than the men do.

1:24:00

Because you said, I wanted to be a revolutionary using poetry like ammunition firing at the system. And now you open your home every Sunday and you have these, like, poets, rappers, singers, philosophers, teachers, students, and who come to your home. And you said, everyday people who have an appreciation for the arts and yearn to be around love and black consciousness. Are you hearing new voices emerging from the gatherings?

1:25:25

Yeah. You know, there's some kendrick Lamar, for example, is a young voice that I'm appreciative of. And plus, I've always started the second generation of last poets. So Sharif Simmons is our new last poet because he's writing poetry that's uplifting. That's saying what we need to hear. Aja Monet is the first woman that I've actually put into the group because I think it's time for a woman's voice to be heard as the last poet. Then there's some other sisters that I appreciate. Jessica Care Moore. She's another person that will be considered her last poet. She's a young sister who was actually introduced to the world of poetry by us because we had a gig in Detroit. And she came into our dressing room. It was a place called Poor Me, which was P O U R M I. And she just came on into the room with me and Uma were and Baba Tanay. And she said, I want to open. I said, sister love, we could have been naked in here. What are you doing? Just combusting it. She says, I've seen what men have. I don't shock me. I said, well, what do you want? What's your problem? I want to open for you all. I said, d knowledge is opening for us. And so she says, he can't do it like I can. I said, damn, she's kind of bold. So I said, what's your sign? So I'm a Scorpion. I said, okay. I said, my partner's Scorpion. I said, you talk to him. If he agrees now, I'll go along with it. So I left the room, I talked to Umar. And so when Dean Alice came on stage, he was introducing us, and he was giving us all this lavish introduction. Jessica came on stage and she said some things. And then she did a poem called Black Girl Juice, which was a monster poem. And at the end of the poem, she says, matter of fact, she describes this juice, the essence of her coming out in a juice form that you can get if you have an empty glass. She says she has some black girl juice. If you ask, as she could pour into your glass, whatever. And guys run to the stage with their cups and all. It's just crazy. I mean, but she's a great poet, and she's got some real good imagery. She really knows how to write poetry. There's no doubt about it. So I told her, I said, well, if you decide to come to New York City, here's my address and phone number, and I'll hook you up with the poet community. Because I had Been. I always worked with some young poets. I gained a great deal. I want to be in touch with the energy, with the young people who need to know how we can move forward. Since I'm one of the older people, I think it's my responsibility to try to bring the young people along.

1:26:02

Yeah.

1:29:01

And so I always had a crew of young folks around me. Plus, I played basketball until I was like in my mid-60s. So, you know, I'm a big basketball fanatic. And so the kids. And the kids loved it because I was good. I was still shooting great jump shots. And so I gave her the address and phone number and she. About two weeks later, somebody at my door opened it up. It's Jessica with her suitcase. I said, oh, wow, you came to New York? She said, yeah. I said, well, where you stand? She says, here? I said, here? I said, I got sons. What are you talking about? She says, boys don't scare me. Anyway, she stayed in my house for about a month. She finally got her own place and then she decided to go on the Apollo at amateur night, which is. That can be devastating. And she's gonna do poetry. And she says she needed to use Baba Tineo drummer. I said, nope, nope, nope. I'm not gonna have him in that mess. I said, you gotta go on that stage by yourself and do your poetry. I think that they'll like you. I said, I hope they do. Cause if they don't, it's gonna be. That's just. That's something you have to deal with. But I don't want Baba in that, you know, that's on you. So that young lady went on that stage and turned it out. She won five weeks in a row. So she's a legend in her own time. Because no one can claim that they've gone on Apollo stage and won five times in a row during anything. And she did it during poetry. And I went to the last show that she had and I understood what was happening. She. She has a poem that's called the Black Statue of Liberty because the Statue of Liberty was sent over. A lot of folks don't realize the Statue of Liberty was sent to America by the French for the freedom of the Africans from slavery. A lot of people think it was sent over because America had freed itself from England. No, the Statue of Liberty was originally the face of. The Statue of Liberty was the face of a black woman. And it was changed because you could not see no 60 foot woman, no 60 foot black woman in the harbor of New York. That was just not going to happen. And I tried to tell these nuns that because I was doing a workshop, I went to someone with some nuns and they just went, red headed Irish nun. She just says, that's hard for me to believe. And I said, I know you think because I'm black, I'm just making up stories, black stories. I said, but since you all want to see the same statue of the Regent Morrow, look at the base of her gown and see where the chains have been broken. There's only one group of people who came over here in chains. And I think we can agree to that, right? So she said, yes. So I said, because the Irish didn't come over here in chains. Neither did the Italians. Even though the Irish and the Italians both were treated badly, they were not in chains. We were in chains. And she came back, she had tears in her eyes. She says, I didn't know. I said, a lot of people don't know. So Jessica has a poem called the Black Statue of Liberty. And in her poem she says, I want to see the words go strong, black woman, when the Goodyear blimp flies by. And because the image is so profound and we've all seen the Goodyear blimp with its messages, the woman jumped up out of their seat and they start clapping. They want to be celebrated. So she gave a great celebratory line to them that they responded to immediately. And that's how she won the Apollo five times. Because she was singing praises to the women and they appreciated that. And so she can call the Apollo any day of the week and get her set up to do a show there Almost whenever they got free time. She could get in here. Right now they're renovating the place. But she's got special privileges because of what she did. But she's another person that would be considered the last poet. Because it's really like a philosophy that I would like to see a whole fellowship throughout the world and people of different cultures, white, black, Latino, but people who are really ready to place humanity at the top of the chart. Because right now I see the world is divided between those who are human and those who are inhuman. It's usually the morality that takes a country down. When your morals fall flat, that's when the country starts to fade. That's when things fall apart. And that's what's happening in America and it's happening in a few other places. And I'm concerned about the morals of humanity because I like people. People. I like people. When I go places, people say, dude, you travel so Much. What do you get out of traveling? I meet angels everywhere I go. I've never been any place where I have not met an angel. I was in a place called Spa England, or I think a spa. It's someplace over here in England. You know what I'm talking about?

1:29:02

Bath Spa.

1:34:16

And we were staying in this house. This guy had a fantastic garden, which I was enchanted by, all these beautiful plants and flowers growing. And we would go in the house. The woman ran upstairs, she saw me. I had on a mud cloth crown. And the woman ran upstairs when we walked in the house and said, oh, my God, I hope I didn't scare her. And she comes down with a mud cloth jacket to match my crown. She said, this must be yours. I got this when I was in Mali, but it's a little too big for me. I think it'll fit you. It fit me perfectly. I have it in my house now. And I said, wow. And she says, and I saw on social media that you like chocolate chip cookies. I made some chocolate chip cookies. I hope you like them. I mean, it was nothing but love, pure love. How could you deny that? I mean, come on. I mean, that's what life's supposed to be about. And that's what being a revolutionary for me is about. Humanity versus inhumanity. And that's where I'm coming from. I say that there are two tribes on the planet. There's a dog tribe and there's a God tribe. And I'm a member of the God tribe. And I know quite a few people. They got nothing to do with your color, your ethnicity. Are members of the dog tribe. I can't use that. The dog is cool. It's as nice as a pet. But the dog is not running things. I'm sorry.

1:34:17

Yeah. Well, thank you so much, Abhiuddoun, for being on Fashion Neurosis.

1:35:39

Well, I appreciate what you're doing, Bella, and I think your grandfather would appreciate it too, because it's a unique way of being psychologically on point.

1:35:47

Well, it means a lot to me doing how we met, you know. You know that you allowed me to be part of the Last Poets family by and that we have this, you know, collaboration. You're someone who is so important to me and I really love you. And so to be able to collaborate on Fashion Neurosis and for you to be here and tell me about your life, it means everything. And thank you so much.

1:35:59

Well, I appreciate the opportunity to do what I do best.

1:36:28

Yes.

1:36:32