An Introduction, an Explanation and an Invitation

Bealz was born out of a conversation I had with my son, a 6^th grade student with absolutely zero interest in reading. This is despite the fact that, over the last few years, I've presented him with dozens of different books and graphic novels and age and genre specific materials. None of it drew him in.

He'd read this stuff, if I literally stood over him. It was never enough, though, to spark a flame of passion, to peak his interests, neither for the simple pleasures of reading and exploring the limits of his imagination, nor for any of the actual storylines, genres or characters.

This then led me to consider the source. There wasn't much readily available nor recognizable within the realm of the mainstream that was geared towards kids like him. Kids who's interests and experiences differ so greatly from society's generalized expectations and assumptions.

He could not find anything quite like himself or anything which spoke to his experiences in the brightly colored, happily-ever after outcomes offered up to him in literary abundance. Zavy's reality diverged greatly from these overwhelmingly one-sided representations and was quite messily anchored in the contemporary issues which beset our community.

You see, although my son wasn't mine biologically, eleven years on there is no question about individual roles within our old/new nuclear family dynamic. I am a Dad to him, not simply out of necessity, though the need was there and apparent, and he is a son to me. We are bonded by love.

But he is quite aware of his true biological roots. I'd have it no other way. He knows who his father is, even as he identifies with me as one of his primary parents.

He also knows where his father is, where he has been for the vast majority of his life.

And perhaps it was because of my years and years of experience in public education and child care, working with the disenfranchised, the forgotten, the struggling, but I knew that, like many of the boys and girls who passed through my alternative education programs, he faced the same issues, struggled with the same concerns.

Many of these kids, like Zavy, know their biological fathers from a distance only and would likewise struggle to envision their faces. My son has nothing but a battered photograph from his first several months of life, and a short period between terms of incarceration since, as the basis for those memories.

But just like the majority of the boys and girls that I knew to be living with the same confusing and frustrating issues, from all appearances, there isn't much to suggest such layers of complication.

Because of this it is easy to forget that their perspectives, their understanding and expectations, differ from the social standard. The unfortunate reality, however, is that many of them, unlike my son, don't have a positive male role model, let alone a stand-in dad to show them what this social standard looks like. It's not surprising then that they typically have difficulties expressing themselves, their fears and frustrations.

Casting around, they long for familiarity. Someone or something that would speak to their concerns. Prepubescence is a difficult period of transition anyway, to do so with a missing piece of self makes it that much more overwhelming.

This is why Bealz is so important to me. Because, I know that the ability to lose oneself in alternate reality, in fantasy, mystery, in drama and romance, something that can connect with your experiences, can be a lifeline in a sea of unfamiliarity for the kids who are just starting to feel their way about the world and can help to determine their relationship to it.

I know it was and it did for me.

Literature, the written word, a good story, can help kids connect with and understand their issues and find comfort and hope in discovering that others have experienced the same and have found triumph. It is unspeakably important then to see oneself positively reflected through art, to envision oneself in the fictional characters overcoming some insurmountable difficulty, someone with shared experiences.

Art, be it visual, musical, poetic, literary or otherwise, has the ability to impact the human heart and mind in a most profound way. It touches on, in fact, the very essence of what it means to be human. It expands upon the empathic connections which allows for a more complete understanding of ones relationship to the world around you.

When I read the first section of Bealz's story to Zavy, I recognized immediately as he sat and listened with interest that I had found that which I had sought. He asked questions as the chapter drew to a close and inquired about what would happen next.

He wondered aloud about Bealz's antagonists, how he'd extricate himself from the dilemma which kicks off the story. He wanted to know about Bealz's mom and dad and more.

So I had to find some answers to his questions. I had to feed his interest. I had to keep writing.

Every couple of days, now, he wants an update. He presses me to forge ahead, to allow Bealz to continue to speak to him, to continue to tell his story. He wants to know what happens next.

I don't know, myself. I have yet to write it.

His enthusiasm, though, spurs me on. It inspires me to continue to pursue Bealz's story, to give it life and to allow it to speak through me.

And it does, the story, but also the characters, themselves. Everything about this fantastical tale, so far, has been very familiar. I know these people, which has made it easier for me to give them voice. I know the places they've been forced to stay, the struggle and the difficulty they've been forced to endure.

For those of you close enough to care, you know that I am a poet. My inspirations are typically expressed iambic-ally. Long form story telling, for me, is a process that I liken to pulling teeth. The story of Bealz and his family is important enough for me to fully commit to it, though.

I have, a good idea of how things play out over the course of about 3/4^th 's of the story. I may even have a pretty good idea about how it ends.

I just have to figure out how to write it. I'm learning. Bear with me.

This blog will be comprised of a very raw, working copy of what I intend to be a complete book that I can present to my son with pride. He's an amazing dude, gets on my last nerve at least four to five times a day and makes me smile by ten times that number.

I love him in a way that would have been impossible for me to understand ten years ago and impossible for me to imagine life without in the moment.

The prospects for his future, all of the obstacles society has placed in his path, frighten me, so I want no less than to see him grow and succeed. I want to give him a character, an epic story, an adventure, that will inspire him to try.

As I put the finishing touches on this particularly long and rambling bit of introduction, we are less than a month or so away from the cinematic release of an iconic figure in the African-American cultural lexicon, The Black Panther.

This character's introduction in the 1970's was radical, even if it was ushered in by a couple of daring white guys, and game changing in the black community, in that there had never been such a powerful depiction of a black man presented anywhere within the mainstream media's offerings.

I had no idea about the larger social ramifications of this, I just enjoyed the fact that, all of a sudden, my father was happy to buy comic books for us. I am thankful that he recognized the importance of his children seeing themselves characterized so powerfully, so equally, if not superiorally represented.

This is what Bealz is to me. A chance to give my son something to latch onto, a character that he can call upon for strength, for inspiration.

Bealz's story, make no mistake, is a contemporary piece of fantasy. It deals with very adult themes. It isn't a children's story, even though one of its central characters is a child.

I chose to read this to Zavy, as is. It is raw and often explicit and there will be those who may consider some of the subject matter and terminology to be off putting and inappropriate for their own eleven year old.

But, again, I must reiterate. I am a poet. Seriously. I consider myself an artist. As a result of basically being raised by an artist, raw eccentricities and all, I've chosen to expose, not just Zavy, but all of my children to all forms of artwork, from paintings by long dead masters, to more contemporary works of fiction, like the evening news.

You do as you choose. But again, I must reiterate, this is not a bedtime story. It's more like, what if Harry Potter was from the hood?

Crackheads and cornerstores and all.

I am about ten chapters or so into the story so far. I will present a chapter at a time, probably on a weekly, maybe a bi-weekly basis. I encourage feedback. Don't expect that to be directly reflected in the actual story, however. Bealz is what it is. I'm just here for the ride, but I do enjoy a good conversation.

Besides, facts and information should never be shied away from.

A lot of the cultural references and structures I'm basing this story on are quite recognizable. Any insights into how this can historically relate to the contemporary tale that I am attempting to tell would be most useful. This is how you get your friends and family to do your research for you. If I'm lucky.

I will be continuing to update and spruce up the joint as well. I'll be adding artwork, probably an unsolicited opinion piece or two, poetry, some family pics and whatever else may pop up in my scattered brain.

Most importantly, for me, is that my family and friends give this story a try. I want you to recognize yourselves in this. I want you to recognize yourselves in me.

Either way, let me know what you think.

gzus

In case you didn't know, there are mysteries for an eleven year old to explore in even the worst of America's hoods. There are forbidden spaces to venture into, urban myths to frighten, ghost stories to haunt, fantastical dreams still to be had. There are stories to be spoken and heard.