Meet Marvin X

by ADMIN on 04. OCT, 2010 in LIFE

I’m sure we all have those teachers from our past who have impacted our lives. Some have encouraged us to dig deep within and unleash untapped potential. Some have inspired us to think beyond our little world and reach new heights. I can’t remember, though, very many teachers who have shocked me into a dizzying stupor, made me laugh, then ultimately made me love them for their unbridled “Hootspa” (or as we were fond of saying in my hometown….“Huevos”)

Meet Marvin X

I believe it was the fall semester of 1982 when I walked into the first day of my English class. I was attending Kings River Community College in the small, heavily Mennonite town of Reedley, CA. Our quaint little town was your typical white-bread, very conservative, farming community. So when we all took our seats and noticed that our instructor was not your typical white, middle-aged teacher with patches on his jacket sleeves, but was in fact an african american man, staring us down, we were all a bit off of our game.

“Hello, welcome to my English class. My name is Marvin X. My legal name is Marvin Jackmon, but I don’t use that name because that was given to me by some white slave owner”! The classroom did a collective head scratching, while some more disturbed students got up and walked into the wall several times, then returned to their seats and joined the head scratching asking panically “Um…your just a sub, right??”

Everyday in Marvin X’s class was like a field trip though a box of Cracker Jacks. There was always some prize waiting for our small town J.C. minds to grapple with. Mr. X always encouraged lively conversation and I took full advantage of that, because we all know that asking a thousand questions equals a passionate interest in the subject which equals a passing grade!!!!

The thing I love most about him was that he loved…no, he fed on tossing little “shock and awe” bombshells our way. Which was always followed by that jubilant grin and sparkle in his eye’s. He kept taunting us that some day he would share some of his poetry with us. But he warned us, “My poetry is really “street” …so I’m not sure your ready for it”.

Several more weeks passed, full of lively conversations, debate and complete pandemonium swirling through our young impressionable little minds. Finally, one day he came to class and announced that we were now officially ready for one of his poems. Once again, he reiterated that his poetry was pretty “street” and not for the faint of heart. We did a collective gulp and nodded our heads.

This poem is called…

(wait for it)

“Confession of a Rapist”

(Oh dear Lord!!….um…uh…OK,, I can handle this! I can be street…or at least avenue)

He looked up with that sly grin and glimmer in his eyes, then proceeded with the opening line…

“I took the P***Y”

(we’re not talking about sweet little kittens here, folks.)

He just piloted his Enola Gay B-29 and dropped a bomb (a “P” bomb at that) amongst us citizens of Hiroshima Junior College!

Visualize those old black & white films of Atomic bomb testing somewhere in the deserts of Nevada. The “Shock Wave” was so insanely intense, our faces were wobbling and contorting to the massive G-forces, that I’m pretty positive not one person heard another line from that poem. Outside, after class, we quickly and hastily put together an emergency Triage unit to asses the damages and re-attach any limbs or brain matter that may have needed attending to.

Some fellow Christian students from the class were discussing the possibility of assembling a mob with torches and pitch forks, the likes of your typical Frankenstein movie. We soon realized that we were all fine. A little shaken, but fine.

Oddly enough, there was maybe one complaint in class from a student, and he very patiently and lovingly discussed it with us. In the end, we all came through it like old trench buddies. Mr. X helped lift, perhaps rather firmly, us out of our little comfort zones.

In the last few remaining weeks of class, we had several more great conversations and debates. One sunny day he even held class outside under a tree and we studied the book of Job from the Bible. I believe he said he loved it because it read like a screenplay. He had lots of great insight and challenged us daily.

There are only a handful of teachers from my two and a half years of college (and no degree to show for it) that I have maybe a millisecond of memory of them. Mr. X, however, made such an impact on me that his memory is burned into the synapses of my brain. Was he shocking? Yes! However, even more, he loved reaching through to us. He made us think….really think!

Before I began writing this, I Googled him. Sure enough, there he was…

with that sly grin and glimmer in his eyes!

Thank you, Mr. X!

Comment Marvin X:

Let me thank all those beautiful students who attended my English class at Kings River College, 1982. I had the time of my life, but my academic career ended there, even though I received a 97% retention rate. I simply no longer desired to teach again. It is indeed ironic that my career ended not far from where my life began in Fowler, Ca., a few miles down the road from Reedley. My mother was also born in Fowler but never went to Reedley because the town was too racist. But during my brief tenure at Reedley, the students treated me royally, bringing me gifts of fruits, vegetables and herbs from their farms. Two of my greatest poems were written during this time, i.e., For the Women and Black History is World History. My students, nearly all White and/or Chicano, did research papers on Black History is World History. One of my Black students was from an Alabama town that hanged his friend from a light post during the semester. Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Dr. Nigger will read with Marvin X in Philly

Dr. Neal Hall, aka Dr. Nigger, will read with Marvin X on Friday, Nov. 16, 3pm at Black and Nobel Books, 1411 West Erie Ave, Philadelphia PA.

Mr. Marvin X:

Great read and great job Mr. Marvin "Human Earthquake" X. I would love to read with you and to read Dr. Nigger during your stay in Philadelphia. I understand that you may be speaking at Temple University. I would be honored to read with you....

...That reading of my poems 911, 24-7 put me on the poetic map in Philadelphia. I read it in Bali, Indonesia at the 9th Ubud Writer & Readers International Festival and it brought the international house down.

I look forward to hearing from you. In any event, it will be my pleasure and honor to come and hear you speak at Temple University.

Neal Hall, M.D.

Dr. Nigger

Dr. Nigger

Can you cure me without
touching me with nigga hands

Can you save my life
without changing my life

Can you dance soft-shoe while
humming those negro tunes
when my white life codes blue

Can you reach inside yourself
beyond the shit we put in you…
past painful moments we put in you…
past despair and hopelessness
we’ve put in you and
find that old black magic in you
to save my life without changing
all the shit we put in you

Dr. Nigger

Can you breathe in me
air free of nigga
from a nigger not free
to breathe in free air

Can you stay on the colored side
of the color line and reach across
without touching me with nigga hands
to restart my blue heart without
changing my cold heart

Can you reach past the life
we’ve taken from you to
save my life and not
let white life pass me by

Dr. Nigger

save my life
without taking my life

Cure me without
touching me with nigga hands

Dance soft-shoe while
humming negro tunes
while you save my life
without changing my life
when my white life codes blue

Dr. Neal Hall

*Neal Hall, M.D., graduate of Cornell and Harvard, ophthalmologist and poet, has published a critically acclaimed anthology of verse, Nigger for Life, reflecting his painful, later life discovery, that in “unspoken America,” race is the one thing on which he is first judged; by which he is first measured; first, against which his life and accomplishments are metered diminished value, dignity, equality and justice.

All of which have everything to do with accessing choice, opportunity, power and freedom in America.

Cornel West, Ph.D., (Princeton University) said of Nigger for Life, “Dr. Hall is a warrior of the spirit, a warrior of the mind, an activist, a poet … his poetry has the capacity to change ordinary people’s philosophy on social and racial issues.”

Nigger for Life’s candid, gut wrenching clarity gives it it’s tremendous power and impact to provoke both thought and honest dialog regarding race, racism, equality and freedom, not just in America, but throughout the world.

The book’s unique ability to open minds, touch hearts and change philosophies of people is immeasurable.

For more info, visit: www.surgeon-poet.com/

source:
Surgeonpoet.com
info@NiggerForLifeBook.com
http://www.surgeonpoet.com

Forget about Sandy, the east coast was smashed by the "human earthquake" Marvin X earlier this week. The Brecht Forum in Manhattan was hit hard by the "human earthquake" when the poet forced a quietly seated audience into mass laughter with his reading of Parable of the Cell Phone, from his latest book The Wisdom of Plato Negro, parables and fables. The audience went into convulsions during the reading in honor of poets Pablo Neruda and Louis Reyes Rivera.

Brecht Forum officials called Marvin X a hero within earshot of Bay Area poet Raymond Nat Turner and his wife. Marvin said to them, "See how people treat me on the east coast, not like you west coast haters!"

When the "human earthquake" hit Newark, New Jersey on Friday night at the Blue Mirror, Dr. M again read Parable of the Cell Phone and a poem What is Love. The Newark audience went crazy with laughter. Regarding his poem What is Love, a waitress whispered to Marvin, "I had that conversation last night."

On the subject of Bay Area haters, they were at the Blue Mirror. Baraka had repeated Marvin's description of his artistic and activist colleagues to Oakland's Eastside Arts directors Elena Serrano and Greg Morozumi. Elena told Marvin not to be so harsh, for we recognize you as our only cultural critic, there is no one like you, despite your craziness!

Next week the "human earthquake" will hit Washington DC and Philadelphia. He will appear at the Black Power to Hip Hop Conference at Howard University, Sankofa Books and Umoja House in DC. In Philly he will read at Moonstone Art Center and Black and Nobel Books. Stay tuned!

Marvin X will be reading/performing in Philadelphia at Moonstone Art Center,
110 south 13th st., Friday, Nov. 9, 7 pm, and again Friday, Nov. 16 at
Black & Novel BOoks, 1411 W. erie ave, 3 pm. . Please spread the word
and try to attend.

He read at an NWU/Brecht forum event this week and was fabulous. Amazing. Great guy. I think he will be joining the union
soon.

Thanks, Tim

Parable of Woman on the Cell Phone by Marvin X

Yeah, these nigguhs is here at my funeral. Yeah, that bitch is here. Now you know I don't like that bitch. I should get out this casket and beat her motherfuckin ass. How dare she come to my funeral after I caught her and my man fucking. They can fuck forever now cause I'm outta here.Yeah, I'm gone baby girl. But did you hear that other bitch sing that song I don't like? Yeah, how dat hoe gon sing a song I don't even like at my funeral. I should get out this casket and whip her ass too.

These nigguhs is too much for me. I'm so glad I'm outta here. And my man sittin there cryin crocodile tears. You know he gon be at one of his other bitches house tonight. She gon be feelin all sorry for him. I should send my spirit over her house and bust up they shit. Know what I mean. I should just command my spirit over her place and fuck it up.

Now bout this heaven shit, Girl. We go see when I get there. Better be some fine nigguhs up in heaven or I'm goin down to hell. I am not gonna be where no mud duck lookin nigguhs is. And I gotta be there for eternity. Hell to the naw. Cause I know I'm cute. Did you see what I had on at my wake last night. Yeah, was I cute, girlfriend? I told dem funeral people don't be makin me look like no damn ghost wit all dat gray ass makeup. Have me lookin cute leavin here.

Well, girl they bout to close the casket. I'm so sorry you couldn't make it but everybody got up and said they little piece. They didn't stop nobody from saying what they thought about me, but you know it was all lies. Nigguhs oughta stop lyin like that. Half them nigguhs hated my guts.You shoulda seen that hoe came dressed like mother Hubbard, crying all over my casket, bout to knock me ova. I started to raise up and slap dat bitch, but I kept my cool. I just kept lookin up at the ceiling.

Girl you take care. I hope they got some damn cigaretts in heaven, and they better have some Hennessey, I swear, or I'm going straight to hell.Let me get off dis phone. Later, girl.

from The Wisdom of Plato Negro, parables/fables, Marvin X, Black Bird Press, Berkeley, 2012, $19.95.

Blogs

Reflections of a "Human Earthquake" Victim

Meet Marvin X

Dr. Nigger will read with Marvin X in Philly

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