Monday, January 23, 2006

You Know Who I Am.......




Inspired by the “Essence 25” speech delivered by Oprah Winfrey, written
by Khephra Burns


Man, look at me! Not even one month old
and calling for a revolution. Truth be told,
I was a revolution.

I'm 53 now. A man of my time. A product of
my own generation. I know who I am.

I was conceived in the struggle, when Black
Power and the Freedom Movement
mated in a hotbed of social unrest.

When I was born in the dawn of the new
decade I cried,''Black is beautiful!
Brotherhood is powerful!'' I had emerged full-grown,
the real Adonis. And had a nine-inch
Afro to prove it.

Fact is, I was fine, and for the first time,
I knew it. Knew that I was stunning in all my
licorice-black, cocoa-brown, caramel and
cafe'-au-lait skin tones.

I turned 400 years of pain into pride as for
the first time I was loving the soft contours
of my African nose, my full, luscious lips
and the ample, round behind that Black women
call my onion `cause it brings tears to their
eyes. Said I had more English in the small of
my back than Webster had in the dictionary.

But never mind English. Habari Gani, sister.
Habari Gani, brother. In the `70's we had
decided to speak Swahili. . .and you were going
to liberate some of this good lovin' in the
name of the revolution. But then, when I
turned to wage the struggle on the gender
front, the revolutionary fire and rhetoric
just went right out of you. Mmm hmm. It's all
right here in the book. My diary for the last 53 years.

Oh, I know you loved me. How could you help
yourself, when I was too beautiful to be
ignored, too determined to be denied, much
too outspoken to be seen and not heard, and
otherwise just too marvelous for words?

Back then they called me Martin Luther King,
Malcolm X and Cassius Clay. That was
me who marched into Atlantic City and told
the Democratic Convention I was sick and
tired of being sick and tired. I had a
history of tired in my bones. Not the kind of
tired that makes you want to sit down, but
makes you want to get up.

I was the voice of the Black revolution. I
was a Black candidate for president
too. They called me a nervy so-and-so, a
troublemaker, a subversive. Reverend Jesse Jackson.

I've been called a lot of things lately --
congressman, surgeon general,
secretary of energy, mayor and more.
At 53 I'm a Renaissance man, already a
legend in my prime.

Forgive me if I boast a bit, but I am an
Emmy-winning, Oscar-copping, Grammy-grabbing,
Pulitzer Prize poet and Nobel Laureate,
beloved. My word, yes, I'm bookish. On
everybody's bestseller list. Seems like all
my best conjure comes out in words. Words
that cast spells like the songs of Solomon,
like jazz. Words that possess the secret of joy.

I know you know me. I was that sass-mouthed
colored boy on Broadway who couldn't just
sing a nice somewhere-over-the-rainbow song.

I spoke for the tree and the rock and the
river when morning dawned and a rallying
pulse kept hope alive in America.

My byline alone would fill a volume or two.
I'm Langston Hughes and Gregory Hines. I’m Harry Belefonte and
Bill Cosby. Look me up sometime, I'm in the book.

I've gone from Motown to Tinseltown, but I've
never forgotten where I came from. I went
from lead singer supreme to Hollywood's first
leading man in a big-screen Black love story. I’m Billy Dee.
But I haven't forgotten that
back before my time Bill Robinson could only dance in the movies.

I've given my own talent a two-thumbs-up,
`cause 53 years of raves right here say
brother acts, in Raisin in the Sun and Sounder, Malcolm X
and The Color Purple. You saw my name when
the credits rolled. I'm Sidney Poitier, Brock Peters, and
Wesley Snipes and Denzel Washington and Danny Glover.
I’m Blair Underwood and Robert Townsend. I'm Spike Lee.

I'm a Hollywood mogul and an entertainment empire.
I'm Puff Daddy. I’m Kanye West.

I've had to orchestrate my own fanfare for 53
years, so forgive me if I toot my horn for
another chorus or two. But from R&B to pop,
from rap to rock, everything I touch turns to
gold. I've battled my way into the opera
houses. I sing jazz. I am jazz. And my song
is simply unforgettable.

You know me. But just for the record, I'm
Nat King Cole and Ray Charles, Jackie Wilson and Eddie Kendricks, Prince and Michael Jackson. I'm Bobby Short, Marvin Gaye
and Donny Hathaway. And oh, by the way,
I run the company now, too. Say you didn't
catch my name? I'm Berry Gordy, Jr.

Olympic in stride and epic in my progress, I
have triumphed in every field of endeavor.
I'm the fastest man in the world, the
president of a Fortune 500 company and a
space-shuttle astronaut. I'm Michael Jordan, Mr. Johnson, thank you, and your friendly Superman.

Like an Afro-American Express card,
I'm everywhere you want to be.

I stole the runways of Paris and redefined
fine as a tall, breathtaking, dark-skinned silouette.
I am a fashion statement. Here's my book. I'm Kristian Alexis Perry.

And my look? 53 years ago, my `do was all
picks and `fros and Afro-puffs. But today you
might see me straightened, braided, bald,
twisted, dyed or locked in a
dreadful headful, all woolly woven down
around my strong brown shoulders. Yeah Baby.

Just so there's no mistaking my identity,
I am free, Black and 53, independent of mind
and centered in the spirit. I know who I am.
I'm only telling you `cause I think you
should know who you're dealing with.

But mine is an open book, a public diary.
I didn't write it to read you. I love you.
Say, brother and sister, look here, you've even got your own
page, to tell me what's in your heart.
I tell you what's in mine.

Over the last 53 years I have soared and
stumbled, but always forward. I'm only 53,
but I've been around, and I've been
there. . . for you, my sister, and for you,
my brother, all along. You know me, I'M BLACK, AND I'M BEAUTIFUL.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Thursday, January 05, 2006

The Elegant Truth




“Momma, who am I?”

“You are my beautiful baby and I love you.”

“...Why?”


I. North Carolina: A Star in Winter

I was born on a cold, snowy winter’s night in February, 1953. It was an unusual night I am told, because there was thunder and lightning associated with the snowstorm that was occurring. My mom was very afraid of thunder and lightning, so having to experience the birth of her first child must have added an extra dimension of anxiety and excitement.

I appeared at 3:12 am on the 7th day. I have had an extraordinary life.

I grew up in Greensboro, North Carolina, with three younger brothers, and one sister. Our family did not have large sums of money, but our life was good. We lived in a wood frame house on an acre of land, a block away from St. Stephens, a large Presbyterian Church, and two blocks away from the Washington Street Elementary School, where I would learn to read and write and begin to develop the social skills that serve me to this day. As a young black boy, I received all the support and nurturing that I needed from my mom and various teachers. My dad was distant, never really supportive, but I know that he loved me. He was just caught up in attempting to support 5 kids and a wife, in the late 50’s and 60’s. He was a strong and simple man, very logical, but not very expressive with his love for us. It wasn’t considered masculine then to hug or cry or even say, “I love you”, and I cannot honestly remember once hearing him say he was proud of me for my accomplishments when I was a child. He had a very rough childhood as his father died when he was ten, so he had to learn to support himself emotionally and physically as best he could. But I know that he loved us because he provided for the family as best that he knew how. I missed his personal support, but I was a “star” child - by that I mean that I did well in school, I was cute and all the teachers liked me - so the lack of his support wasn’t devastating to me. My mother was the strong opinionated type. You always knew where she stood on any issue. If she was unhappy about something, we all were aware of it. But she loved us fiercely, and protected us through every storm. My Mom and Dad had their own personal difficulties with each other, yet somehow they stayed together to protect us from the outside world. We lived in a city where major Civil Rights activity took place. My Mom knew one of the students who staged the famous Woolworth sit-in protest in Greensboro. But as children, we experienced very little if any of the turmoil going on around us.

Except...

I remember having to go up the back stairs of the movie theater to sit in the balcony when other kids went through the front door; having to ride in the back of the bus “Because”; hearing people laugh and point at me because of my skin color; and being referred to as “nigger” by a five year old boy [I was seven]. I had never heard that word before, but because of his angry delivery, it cut to the center of my heart, and I will never forget it. Although we were incredibly sheltered, these incidents are a part of my soul and I long ago decided to use my life to end such bigotry and hate.

My mother and father were incredibly beautiful individuals, and as their first born, they loved to have me photographed. I was a beautiful child, and every chance I got, I was in front of a camera. It didn’t matter who it belonged to. I just had to have my picture taken. As I view the photographs of myself from this period of my life, the one thing that astounds me the most is the profound joy that is apparent in my eyes and smile. I was a happy child, precocious and intelligent.

II. Teen Age: Tuning The Instrument
As I grew, it was very apparent that I was somehow different from my brothers and sister, and other kids in my schools and neighborhood. I was the one with the vast, imaginative dreams and a plan to somehow, someday run away to accomplish them. I learned that the library was my friend and I would travel to one located near my home on the campus of Bennett College in Greensboro, [a school for Black women - extremely prestigious and expensive]. It was rare to see such a young boy running around the campus and the young women there liked me. I befriended several librarians and they would help me discover the most wonderful books. I learned to educate myself beyond the boundaries of elementary and junior high school. I had found a fortress that would give me the answers to all of my questions “why”. That library helped me answer everything. And it also allowed me to feed my mind with the discoveries and opinions of people of other countries and ages.

As I think back, being in that atmosphere was incredibly nurturing. The women there were very kind to me, even though boys were not really allowed on campus - even young ones like me. Parents would send their daughters there to gain refined social graces and become beautiful and educated young women. Boys were the enemy as far as the faculty of the school was concerned. But I melted their hearts. I was in my very early teens and I possessed a heart of gold. I was an exception, and was allowed to walk through the campus to the library freely without monitor.

It was on those grounds that I first experienced someone playing classical music on a grand piano for the first time. I was casually walking through the Magnolia trees that heavily covered the grounds, on a stroll to the library. As I passed the building, I paused, listening intently; although I had never heard it before, the composition being played sounded incredibly familiar. The sound of that piano on that southern fall afternoon will forever remain a part of my permanent memory. I can still hear the sound and smell the magnolias as if I was standing there this very moment. Hearing that piano unlocked a door that would someday allow one of my major dreams to come true.

As I began to grow up, I noticed that in my dreams I could hear incredible music - the most beautiful symphonies playing in my head as a soundtrack to my dreams. I would often envision myself flying in my dreams, soaring to the music. I developed a passion for listening to classical music, as it was an earthly replica of what my dreams were creating for me each night.
I have learned, and it is my belief that there is another dimension that I have been blessed to experience, and it is comprised of the most beautiful music in the universe. My dreams were also vibrant with exquisite color that was alive, throbbing to each measure of the music. As I grew older, I could hear the music during my waking hours as well. I hear it in every composition and song, I can see it in every beautiful painting, and it flows through me with every beat of my heart. No matter what I do, I am also experiencing the music within. A secret, glorious, golden mystery has been revealed for me to see and experience and share.

In my teen years, I began to hear a voice. A beautiful, feminine voice of love. It captivated me. Never before had I heard a human voice sound as if the hand of God had caressed it. She was making herself known to me. Her name was Diana and her voice was as vibrant and beautiful as my symphonic dreams. I knew that she had been blessed with the same energy that I could feel running through me. The more I heard her speak and sing, the stronger I became in the realization of my destiny. She was, and still is, my muse. She is with me in everything that I do and say.


III. Growing Pains: Transition
My school years went by quickly. Upon graduating high school, I decided to go to technical school, because it was inexpensive (my family couldn’t afford to send me to college, and I did not have major conversations with anyone at the time to consider alternatives) and because of my experience with the library at Bennett College, I wanted to pursue a higher education. Unfortunately, my study at the time was misdirected, and I ended up in a field of study that I really wasn’t interested in at all. While attending school, I worked at a cotton mill in Greensboro. I was offered a job in the data processing division, and since that was one of the areas that I was studying, I decided to take the job full time and so I subsequently left school.

I worked at the cotton mill for seven years, leaving in 1978 to relocate to New York City. Many of my close friends were leaving North Carolina, and I was ready to take on the world and myself.


IV. Reaching Out
I got on the airplane with $500.00 in my pocket and a promise of a place to stay for one week. I found in New York City the energy and excitement that I had always dreamed about in North Carolina, so being there was a dream come true for me. I lived in Manhattan for eighteen years.

Upon my arrival, I was hired by Metromedia Television to operate their small commercial programming computer system. The station was an exciting place. I met some of the most fascinating people - Marian Etoile-Watson, Butterfly McQueen, Wilma Rudolph, Melba Moore, Broadway people, dancers, singers - it was incredibly exciting. Bill Boggs taped a 2-hour show there every afternoon in Studio A, and his guests would arrive early for makeup and I would sometimes get to meet them. Watching these personalities up close gave me a real sense of what it is to truly love yourself and give of your talents freely. I learned much from interacting with people at the Studio. They could be tough as nails, but there was always a beautiful heart that would jump out eventually. They taught me that there is no one more special than myself. No one could ever do anything the way that I could. I learned to trust myself, even when I am surrounded by disagreement.

There was a beautiful piano in the studio, and I was given permission by one of the executives to enter the studio and play it on Saturdays. I wanted to teach myself to play the instrument. After several weeks of just making non-lyrical musical noise, I decided that I would search out a teacher. Teaching myself would not be an option. I needed help. Then I got sidetracked.

At the studio while walking down the hallway one day, I happened to be singing, and one of the executives heard me and told me that I should do it for a living. [God and my muse were guiding me to fulfill my destiny]. I had been singing in my small apartment constantly to disco music with divas the likes of Diana Ross, Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand, and I developed quite a beautiful voice of my own. As a child, I had always spoken beautifully, and as a young man, the timbre of my voice was golden and mellifluous. I auditioned at a major Cabaret club (Freddy’s) and they booked me on the spot! I immediately changed my name: from Lamont Bruce Groves to Kristopher Lamont Perry. I needed a name that was more memorable, and one that would represent the future that I seemed to be heading towards so swiftly. Having never given a serious thought to putting a concert together of my own, I formed a trio - two backup singers, and myself: Diane Span and Chandra Armstead - and we completed the engagement successfully. From there I went on to perform solo in virtually every major Cabaret venue in the city. I have sung duets with some of the most beautiful and talented women in the world - Jane Olivor, Chante Moore, Natalie Douglas just to name a few. And I also have worked with some of the most brilliant pianists in the world: Peter Wright, John Jacobson, Kenneth Mallor, Westley Naylor; on and on I could go. I became a local celebrity. People would walk up to me that had attended my concerts expressing the joy they had experienced from my singing. Life was good. The symphonies played feverishly in my heart, and the love flowed effortlessly from my voice into the hearts of those around me.

Being on stage was very challenging, so I decided to take a closer look at my life and develop the abilities that I felt I would need to truly be successful. I went to the Actors Studio and took seminars and volunteered to be around other artists. I sang and danced until I would fall asleep from exhaustion. I was determined to be the best.

I had at the time a friend in New York who was a follower of Gurumayi, also known as Swami Chivalasananda. She is a recipient of all of the divine energy of Buddha and quite a beautiful, peaceful being. I was given the opportunity to approach her, and all I could say was “Thank You”. At that moment, she raised her peacock feathers and blessed me with them. From that meeting, I went on to study the yogas; I read the most incredible spiritual writings and was introduced to the most amazing people. I read a lot of Shirley Maclaine’s books; “discovered” crystals; and took seminars from people known to be popular in the New Age movement. I worked with Anthony Robbins and did the Fire Walk Experience. As Diana had done before me, I did the Erhard Seminar Training (EST), in search of the true meaning of my life. I found it. [This Is It]. I meditated at a California ashram located at Sky High Ranch in the San Bernardino Mountains and discovered that I am larger than the limitations of my body. I studied different disciplines (Scientology, Buddhism, Zen, etc.) and learned that they all have the same basic truths at the heart of their teaching; I did everything Lifespring had to offer and learned that tears and love are closely related when you begin to experience life through your heart with authenticity and passion. While involved there, I was often a volunteer, and worked closely with the trainers. The coaching that I received there has endured and remains some of the most valuable of my lifetime. I became an accomplished coach and lead a group of people successfully through a leadership course as a test of my personal growth. I was contributing to the world around me in ways I had never dreamed possible just by saying yes to projects. My life had become full and interesting.

Although I was succeeding as a vocal artist and expanding as a person, I needed a stable income, so I continued to work in the data processing field. I had managed to have two careers at once. They were both working successfully through 1990.


V. The Spiritual Encounter

One night while walking around Gramercy Park alone after a concert, I came upon a tall stranger who gave his name as J.C. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and I was startled by his presence. I would often take a walk around the small and beautiful park at night - it was in a safe neighborhood, well lit, and was incredibly peaceful. I was feeling a little lonely that night, as I had enjoyed myself tremendously on stage, and as has nearly always been the case, I had no one to share it with. I understand what so many successful artists of our time have gone through. To feel the adoration and love from the stage is a heady drug. When I was separated from it, I wanted to be held and loved; there was never anyone there for me after the fact and I was living a very exciting, lonely life. I was becoming isolated within my golden walls. Adored for the gifts that I brought to the stage, the emotions that I revealed, the love that was present in the room, I could not, however, find someone to love me for myself. This man, J.C., looked at me with the most beautiful, loving and trusting eyes. I felt acknowledged. He asked my name and of what I did in life. I explained to him that I was a singer, and that it was my intention to be a major star someday. He looked at me with the most incredible otherworldly glow in his face and said: “Yes, I am sure you will.” Then he walked past me, I took three steps, turned to watch him walk away, but to my surprise, he was nowhere to been seen! He had vanished into thin air as quickly as he had appeared. It was at that moment that I realized that I had just had a conversation with the real J.C., and yes, I would, someday, become a star.


VI. The Music Stops
In 1991 a friend confided in me that he had AIDS, and since he was estranged from his family, asked me if I would be willing to take care of him through his illness. How could I say no? I stopped singing to devote more time to him, and in the process worked through the next 2 years with him until his death. This had a profound effect on me. It saddened me, I was not singing, and life in New York City in general was getting tougher than ever. I had a nice life, but I had hit a dead end. What should I do?

I was on my way to the World Trade Center to do banking on the day that it was bombed in February 1993. That explosion was a precursor as to what would happen in my own life. The job market was getting tighter, and in March of that year, I lost my job of seven years due to “downsizing”. I also turned 40 that year, and like many people, I had a major mid-life crisis. I took a good, clear look at my life, where I had been, what I had done, where I wanted to go next, and set out plans to do so.

After almost 15 years in the computer field, I was no longer feeling satisfied with my work, so I decided to change careers, and set out to do work in administrative support. I quickly succeeded in that area and it allowed for more flexibility in locating jobs and working with a greater wealth of companies.

In 1995, after having watched Amisted Maupin’s “Tales of The City”, I decided to relocate to California. I closed up my life in New York City and moved to San Francisco. It was my intention to start over, create an even more successful life and begin to truly enjoy my daily experiences. Upon my arrival here, I found a job on the second day here with a major company, and in addition I did volunteer work at the Aids Health Project, counseling HIV negative men on how to stay healthy, and keep a positive mental attitude about what was going on around them. There were so many of us who had never had a voice in the epidemic, and I had found a place where I felt I was making a difference in the community, by counseling others on how to maintain their negative status and continue to enjoy life. Life in the city has had its magic moments, and for those I am truly grateful.

VII. Music, Light and The Voice of Love’s Return

I still hear incredible symphonies in my dreams. My current life is a happy one. In 1996, I legally changed my name for the third and final time. Having started anew, I wanted to leave the energy of New York City behind me and open myself to new possibilities. So in March of that year, I became known as Kristian Alexis Perry. The evolution is complete. From beautiful baby boy to exquisite man.

By 1997 I was living in a beautiful home, with great roommates. I had a job that I enjoyed with a major bank in San Francisco, and I was dating. It has become extremely important for me to take care of myself. I do my best to eat right, I exercise frequently, I am sang occasionally around town and to the best of my ability, I kept a positive mental outlook. My main focus now is to appreciate myself, my accomplishments, and look towards the future with an open heart and mind. At 45 years of age, I felt that my life had truly just begun. I am again on the road to self-realization. Tempered with maturity and a song in my heart, I rediscovered that this gift that I was born with was given to me to share. As I speak to you, as I glance at you, as you hear my voice or feel my heart, this light of love does surely spark the love within you. You may not be aware of it at this moment, but as surely as I am one with God and her everlasting loving genius, you will come to see that today, you have truly been loved.

Epilogue (1998)

My life has been shaped by the nature of the reality that I was born into. There have been many trials - they have made me strong. And there has always been a deep and peaceful love that has quietly guided my heart through the best and worst of times, to surrender me to who and what and where I am today. It has been the nature of my universe - an all powerful and divinely assisted imagination that has taken me to wondrous places simply because I always knew that I could go and do anything that I wanted. Life shares its secrets when you surrender to the serenity and the magic of the wonder that you are.

As a child, I was always told that I was beautiful - therefore I am; that I am worthy - therefore I have self worth. I have experienced and learned from the divine presence of God in all her glory in my life - therefore I am strong and confident of my destiny. I have been blessed and am truly grateful for the gifts that I have received in my life - they have truly been incredible - and I freely give them all to you. Think of me what you may. Consider my heart in the matter. And I receive from you with open arms all that you are as you and I are one in the same. One in the same - everything, every thing.


How did I get to be the person I am today?
“Simply through the nature of love.”

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Its Best To Start At The Beginning


My name is Kristian Alexis Perry. The meaning of my name, translated literally, is Annointed Protector of Mankind. Based on my life results, I consider myself a leader in the community of humanity; my name generates a deliberate positive sound and energy of spiritual eloquence that nurtures the spirit of those who speak it.

My ancestors are comprised of races from Africa, England and Scotland. I am a descendant of the regal Benin/Togo people in Africa, and Caucasians from The British Isles, woven deeply into the fabric of North American culture. The depth of my heritage is spiritually profound, bringing together aspects of culture unique to only myself. I have come to the realization that I and God are one in the same, enabling me to trust in the musings of my heart with a profound elegance that captures the positive spirit within and radiates outward into the world.

Brilliant, Gorgeous, Talented and Fabulous





My deepest fear is not that I am inadequate. My deepest fear is that I am powerful beyond measure. It is my light, not my darkness that frightens me. I ask myself, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?”

Actually, who am I not to be. I am a child of God. My playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around me. I am meant to shine, as children do. I was born to manifest the glory of God that is within me. It’s not just in me, it’s in everyone. And as I let my own light shine, I unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As I am liberated from my own fear, my presence automatically liberates others.

Paraphrased from Marianne Williamson – A Return to Love