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EPISODE 24 | THE WORK (with Joycelyn Wilson)

The summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school, I went to a summer program called the Georgia Governor’s Honors Program (GHP). Basically, if you were particularly good at a subject (ranging from traditional subjects like Language Arts and Science to offerings like French, Fine Art, an instrument, or Dance), you lived on campus at Valdosta State University for 6 months with 600 other highly-passionate nerds. I was there for Math (probably the least passionate and most nerdy sub-group), but nearly all of my memories that summer come from some place other than the 6-8 hours each day I spent learning about new kinds of mathematics. Most of what I remember is from the two guys I spent the most time with on my hall: my roommate, Dallas, and my best friend that summer, Colby. Each had a lasting impression on me in a distinctly different way.  And every single thing we did that summer was soundtracked to hip-hop.

 When I walked into my room for the very first time, Dallas was blasting Biggie. Life After Death had just come out, and Dallas was all about it. I was more of a lighthearted listener of hip-hop - OutKast was my group, I knew all the words to “Regulate,” and I had some favorites off E. 1999 Eternal, but I had no  real exposure to and New York or LA rap. Dallas made sure to learn me. He played a steady dose of Biggie and Tupac, explaining to me the history of both coasts, the sampling techniques, the rivalries. While we were at Nerd Camp, No Way Out and The Art of War both released, and I’d later go home and buy them for myself. Dallas’ biggest contribution to my life - one that still lives on today - is introducing me to “Mo Money Mo Problems” (sidenote, what a glorious video. So weird, though, that Puffy’s caddy didn’t pull the pin for him), one of the top songs of my life and the one that will always make me break conversation and beeline to the dancefloor.

Colby’s sensibilities were drastically different. He was also a Math major, but the type of kid who scared me: loud, brash, inappropriate, and disrespectful to authority. At the time, I didn’t know how those qualities could co-exist with an affinity for mathematics. I’m not sure why he paid me any attention, but we found ourselves in conversation on the first night of GHP and were close to inseparable for the rest of the summer. One of us mentioned OutKast at some point - it’s difficult to believe there was a pre-Aquemini world, but this was… somehow pre-Aquemini. And even though we were in Georgia and it would have been weirder for someone to not know OutKast than to love them, this connection was the keystone for our friendship. It opened up the world for our summer in Valdosta: sitting in hallways, cafeterias, or laundry rooms, playing Spades as ATLiens blasted, front-to-back, from the AIWA boombox I’d brought. Colby turning me onto Pete Rock and CL Smooth while we worked on a math project. Debating whether or not the next album should be Goodie Mob or The Roots.

That summer changed my life in a lot of ways, but the one thing I’ll never forget is how it sounded. And how it bounced. And because I was taking in so many new experiences (first or new definitions of independence and romance and connection), the values I underscored for each were shaped by the stories I heard day and night. Hip-hop became one of the primary lenses through which I see the world, and it remains the form of art or media that excites me most to consume, absorb, investigate, and understand.

After that summer, my path traveled through Bad Boy and Bone Thugs, 2Pac's Greatest Hits, and The Roots' catalog in between OutKast releases every 2 years. After Stankonia, I drifted more into the crossover and/or R&B side of rap (thank you, TRL): Nelly and Murder Inc. and Aftermath and Snoop and basically anything Neptunes-produced along with a lot of stuff from the South: Cash Money, Ludacris, T.I., Jeezy, and others. Around the time I moved to LA, it was all Kanye and The Black Album all the time. And then Drake. So much Drake. Still here for all the Drake.

And it's with this backdrop that I now see the dilemma.

It's an easy listening path from Nostalgia, Ultra to Kaleidoscope Dream to House of Balloons to Late Nights to I Am Not A Human Being to anything-DJ-Mustard-produced... and in what is a very natural sonic progression, the messaging of romance goes from "here are the ways I want to love you, if only I could" to "I'm going to do x with y and you’re gonna z," the variables substituted for words that make most folks (but not the President) very uncomfortable. For pretty much my entire life, I had no interest in finding that line of demarcation.

The song I reference in the podcast is 6LACK's PRBLMS. It occurred to me that I can't stand up the way I want to stand up in the world while fully embracing certain messaging in music, film, television, or otherwise. And while lyrics and storytelling are open to interpretation and speak to that artist's experience, language, or expression, I have to draw my lines. As Dr. Joyce said, that's the work. But I see now that the art of storytellin’ that drew me in and built so much of my world led, years later, to a collection of music I enjoy but doesn’t present the art nor the storytelling I want to present to the world.

As part of an experiment, I thought I'd share a handful of some (previously) favorite tracks by some of my favorite artists. These are artists (or songs) I listen to weekly, if not daily, and have appeared on many a playlist I've made and shared. Some of them have issues because of the year in which they were written, others because of the genre they fall in, others because of the writing itself. But, regardless:

HIGHLY PROBLEMATIC SONGS I USED TO LOVE

Ray Charles - “I Got A Woman”

She's there to love me both day and night

Never grumbles or fusses, always treats me right

Never runnin' in the streets, and leavin' me alone

She knows a woman's place is right there now in her home

Yikes, Ray. And yet debatably less problematic than the anthem it inspired.

Dean Martin - “I’ll Buy That Dream”

Imagine you in a gown white and flowery

And me thanking Dad for your dowry

[Later]

Imagine me on our first anniversary

With someone like you in the nursery

Sounds like Dean’s got all the roles scoped.

 OutKast - “Jazzy Belle”

In this dog-eat-dog world

Kitty cats be scratching on my furry coat to curl

Up with me and my bowl of kibbles and bits

I want to earl cause most of the girls that we was liking in high school

Now they dyking…

This one breaks my heart, as this was my first favorite Kast track. I guess for every Sasha Thumper there’s a Suzy Skrew, for every Ms. Jackson, there’s a Hootie Hoo.

 Drake - “Shot for Me”

I'm the man, yeah I said it

Bitch, I'm the man, don't you forget it

The way you walk, that's me

The way you talk, that's me

The way you've got your hair up, did you forget that's me?

And the voice in your speaker right now that's me

That's me, and the voice in your ear

That's me, can't you see

That I made it? Yeah, I made it

First I made you who you are and then I made it

Another one that cuts deep. This was a longtime favorite for several choice lines in the 2nd verse.

 Jay-Z - “Bitches and Sisters”

Sisters get respect, bitches get what they deserve

Sisters work hard, bitches work your nerves

Sisters hold you down, bitches hold you up

Sisters help you progress, bitches will slow you up

Sisters cook up a meal, play their role with the kids

Bitches in street with their nose in your biz

I mean, the entire conceit of the song is trouble. But in the second verse, after a sample says, “Say Jay-Z, why you gotta go and disrespect the women for, huh?” this is how he defends his point.

In the words of Dr. Joyce on the podcast, “Who wants a sexist social activist?” That’s the work.

 -Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Sign up to our weekly newsletter, Three Points.

Show notes:

Dr. Joyce (website | twitter | instagram)

Four-Four Beat Project / Hip-Hop 2020 (website)

Bring The Noize by Dr. Joycelyn Wilson (Bitter Southerner)

In this episode, we referenced:

Big Gipp Details Future's Dungeon Family Background; Rapper Was Known As Meathead (HipHopDX)

Future Describes Dungeon Family Ties And Purposely "Dumbing Down" His Music (HipHopDX)

The Art of Organized Noize documentary (Trailer on YouTube | Watch on Netflix)

Blues People: Negro Music in White America by Leroi Jones (Amazon)

The Making of OutKast's Aquemini (Creative Loafing)

Bad and Boujee Civil War lesson (AJC | youtube)

Migos Rapped A Children's Book. It's Funny, But It Makes Perfect Sense (NPR)

Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Amazon)

Why Is My Life So Hard (Freakonomics podcast)

Music

“SpottieOttieDopalicious” by OutKast (YouTube)

“Synthesizer” - OutKast (YouTube)

“It’s Okay” - Slimm Calhoun feat. Andre 3000 (YouTube)

“She Lives In My Lap” - Andre 3000 (YouTube)

“Coldest Winter” - Kanye West (YouTube)

“Street Lights” - Kanye West (YouTube)

“Made of Glass” - Lil Yachty (YouTube)

“Pretty” - Lil Yachty (YouTube)

“Belly of the Beast” - Da Connect (YouTube)

“March Madness” on Saturday Night Live - Future (YouTube)

“Mask Off” Remix - Future feat. Kendrick Lamar (YouTube)

Soul Music - Tr380 the Future (SoundCloud)

“I’m The One” - DJ Khaled feat. Justin Bieber, Quavo, Chance The Rapper, and Lil Wayne (YouTube)

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EPISODE 23 | I SEE YOU (with Jarrett Hill)

In this episode, I sit down with writer, commentator, and radio and TV personality Jarrett Hill. Recorded earlier this year, we discuss how his identity has defined his work, the evolving work as a journalist with the new administration, and the presence of politics in all we do.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Sign up to our weekly newsletter, Three Points.

Show notes:

Jarrett’s work (website):

Back 2 Reality with Jarrett Hill podcast (website)

Coming Into Coming Out (Huffington Post)

Coming Into Being Out (Huffington Post)

At the Museum of Tolerance, Holding a Mirror to Visitors’ Biases (New York Times)

Opinion: Dear ‘White Allies’, Stop Saying That You ‘Don’t See Color’ (NBC News)

Jarrett tells the story of The Tweet on The Adapt Podcast (website)

In this episode, we referenced:

I Am Not Your Negro (website)

13th (website)

Axe Files Ep 128 with Kamala Harris (CNN)

The Ezra Klein Show: Avik Roy on why conservatives need to embrace diversity (Stitcher)

Beyoncé: the superstar who brought black power to the Super Bowl (The Guardian)

Joy Reid (twitter)

Shaun King (website)

Solange Knowles - “F.U.B.U.” (Youtube)

25 Songs That Tell Us Where Music Is Going: “F.U.B.U.” by SOLANGE: How a song can make its audience feel seen. By Angela Flournoy (New York Times)

Here Are Some Ways To Help Build A More Intersectional Feminism (The Fader)

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EPISODE 22 | JUSTICE FOR ALL (with Maribel Hernández Rivera)

Last month, I attended The Arena Summit in Raleigh, NC. Self-described as “building communities that activate the next generation of civic leaders,” I’ve found The Arena to be a wellspring of ideas and inspiration. In a time when there is so much to do, this growing group of people is providing structure and support for action and change.

The Summit itself reminded me of my experience at NHSMUN (I’m glad to see the Hilton Midtown is still the host location. Bonus info: this was also the hotel we used to film scenes from Diving Normal). The programming (speakers on specific issues, breakout caucuses based on region), the people (smart, aware, intimidating, ambitious), and the energy (“this is a big deal”) all reminded me of those high school days running around conference rooms and trying to process and multitask on a plethora of issues. 

And like Model UN, the metric of success - the way you “win” - was based on the ability to work with as many other groups as possible, especially ideologically different groups, and get as many things done as possible. And I haven’t been in a space where those two currents were so alive and absolute.

There was a full agenda of speeches, talks, and panels, and one of the biggest takeaways from the weekend was the importance of running for local office. Along with Run For Something and other upstart organizations, The Arena is supporting candidates running for the first time or interested in small government. Since the beginning of this year, the New York caucus has hosted a handful of events where folks running for New York City Council can tell their story. As a new resident, it’s been an eye-opening way to learn about neighborhoods and issues across the five boroughs, as well as the importance of those local seats. Pete Buttigieg, mayor of South Bend, IN, said it best in Raleigh: it’s not that the 2016 election proved the importance of the presidency to us, but “the current administration reminded us that more offices than the presidency matter.” I left Raleigh with a handful of ambitions and action plans, informed by details on the level of impact that can be had in different areas of civic engagement.

Living in New York this year, I can’t help but feel uplifted by how vital and definitive the history of immigration is in this city: Ellis Island as the gateway to America, the Statue of Liberty as an international symbol of welcome, and a multiculturalism across the city unlike any other. And because of all this, I feel the expectation of residents in this city to look out for one another.

My guest for this episode has dedicated her life to looking out for others. Maribel’s story is exceptional and, at the same time, holds the universal magic of the American Dream myth of what this country can truly offer. Her work and her office provide resources to immigrants and immigrant communities and fight to protect and build sanctuary for our neighbors, friends, and family members who are contributing to the city in vital ways.

I mention this in the podcast, but I highly recommend anyone living in New York to apply for their IDNYC card. The entire process takes less than a half-hour, and the card - a municipal ID that requires proof of identity and residence in New York City - offers a ton of benefits at museums, cultural institutions, entertainment, health, fitness, and other services around the city. Obtaining the ID also builds the community of New Yorkers who use the card and protects those who might rely on this card as their primary form of identification.

This program and the efforts of Maribel’s office are important examples of the impact of local government - and the importance to support and include people who care about -  and have lived through - issues that are more present now than ever in our communities and country.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Sign up to our brand new weekly newsletter, Three Points.

Show notes:

IDNYC (website)

ActionNYC (website)

The Only Way We Can Fight Back is the Excel (New York Times)

American Dreamers (New York Times)

DREAMers Share Their Stories via #SaveDACA (Colorlines)

Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals: Who Can Be Considered? (White House archives)

Tech Alone Won’t Be Enough To Reboot Progressive Politics (Wired)

Inside the Grassroots Movement to Groom a New Generation of Democratic Candidates (Time)

Former Obama staffers run for office to protect the progressive policies they built (Guardian)

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EPISODE 21 | LEADING FROM THE HEART (with Emily May)

We’re having some technical difficulties with the Soundcloud player embed - in the meantime, you can listen directly HERE or via iTunes or your favorite podcast app. We hope you enjoy our conversation with Emily May.

This episode's guest is Emily May, Executive Director of Hollaback! and Heart Mob. We met through one of her newest initiatives, 100Days100Dinners (100days100dinners.us), and I was amazed and inspired at her lifelong commitment to stand up for others and use her voice to speak out. We discuss her path to that work, how we decide the narratives that we're going to carry for the rest of our lives, and how to find balance and relationship in the field of social justice.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Sign up to our brand new weekly newsletter, Three Points.

Show notes:

Bridging Difference Over Dinner in the First 100 Days (NBC News)

How street harassment became a national conversation in 2014 (Washington Post)

New York Anti-Street Harassment Group Asks Women to Hollaback! (ABC News)

Here Are Some Ways To Help Build A More Intersectional Feminism (The Fader)

100Days100Dinners (website)

Hollaback! (website)

Heart Mob (website)

The Dinner Party (website)

Faith Matters (website)

Susan B. Anthony (biographies online and on Amazon)

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EPISODE 20 | NEW ORDER (with Fay Wolf)

What follows is my 100-day action plan to maintain the greatness and social progress of the country I know. It is a contract between myself and my fellow American citizens, comprising people of all backgrounds, orientations, preferences, ideologies, abilities, shapes, sizes, colors, identities, and income and education levels, and begins by sending a message of resistance demanding honesty and accountability to the President-elect.

Therefore, on the first day of the new President’s term of office, I will immediately pursue the following six measures to expose the corruption and lack of experience, integrity, and inclusion of the incoming administration to Washington, D.C.:

· FIRST, take all action I possibly can to ensure a one-term limit for the incoming President;

· SECOND, consistent recommendations to block the President-elect’s twitter account to reduce its legitimacy through attrition;

· THIRD, a requirement that for every one piece of news I share, I use two methods to verify its source and legitimacy;

· FOURTH, a commitment to call or write the White House and my Congressional representatives on all issues vital to civil rights or progress;

· FIFTH, create a weekly newsletter that offers three articles, videos, or other pieces of media from a range of sources or perspectives on political or cultural matters;

· SIXTH, a complete ban on any products, companies, or services that support corruption, greed, or are otherwise anti-humanity.

On the same day, I will begin taking the following 7 actions to protect American lives that matter:

· FIRST, continue to tell stories of cultural identity, social dynamics, and intersectionality on Mass + Volume;

· SECOND, make at least one contribution per month to support the efforts of organizations such as the NAACP, ACLU, Planned Parenthood, Black Lives Matter, SPLC, NOW, and others;

· THIRD, volunteer on the ground at least once per month to support the efforts of organizations such as the NAACP, ACLU, Planned Parenthood, Black Lives Matter, SPLC, NOW, Love Army, or local groups protecting and promoting civil rights;

· FOURTH, direct funds and activity to black-owned banks and businesses;

· FIFTH, lift the spirits of young minds, using my experience in education to mentor in hopes of inspiring the development of agency, empathy, and resilience;

· SIXTH, make a monthly donation to support the efforts to protect Standing Rock or other Native Lands and rights;

· SEVENTH, commit to reducing my carbon footprint while supporting the efforts to prevent Climate Change via monthly donation or volunteering.

Additionally, on the first day, I will take the following five actions to restore my faith in the government and constitutional rule of law:

· FIRST, speak out against every unconstitutional executive action taken by the new President;

· SECOND, support the outspoken leaders protecting civil and social rights and the ethical processes of the government, including but in no way limited to, Senator Kamala Harris, Senator Cory Booker, Senator Elizabeth Warren, Senator Bernie Sanders, and others;

· THIRD, promote funding and support to Sanctuary Cities;

· FOURTH, support, meet with, and share the stories of undocumented immigrants to replace the association of “criminal” with “human” — including, but not limited to, a short film documentary telling the stories of DREAMers and the necessity of protecting DACA;

· FIFTH, insist on reviews of the highest integrity for the incoming administration by the Office of Government Ethics as well as a response and plan of action on the federal intelligence community’s report on Russian involvement in the 2016 election.

Next, I will study and/or work on the following broader social measures, educating myself and fighting for actionable solutions within the first 100 days of the new Administration:

1. To hear and live through stories of the American experience: the ten plays in August Wilson’s The Pittsburgh Cycle.

2. To develop a voice against segregation: the work of writers like Nikole Hannah-Jones and Jeff Chang.

3. To participate in the undoing of institutional racism: The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander, Writing My Wrongs by Shaka Senghor, and Stamped From The Beginning by Ibram X. Kendi.

4. To better comprehend and support decolonization (and retain a sense of active, intentional hope): Radical Hope by Jonathan Lear.

5. To understand the racialization of politics: the work of writers like Jelani Cobb and Michael Tesler.

6. To fight for feminism: the work of Roxane Gay, Rebecca Solnit, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Maya Angelou, Nayyirah Waheed, and many others.

7. To re-learn old lessons: The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin and Robert Kennedy And His Times by Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr.

8. To speak out, but to listen more than I speak.

9. To push back and confront, 100% of the time, casual racism, misogyny, and other harmful rhetoric used in my presence.

10. To participate in protests, marches, rallies, workshops, panels, and other mobilization or educational opportunities to build the mass and amplify the volume for causes and people that matter to me.

On November 9th, I woke with the realization that I must apply my whole self to the protection of the prosperity of this country and the security of our communities. Since November 9th, I’ve seen a lack of honesty and integrity from our incoming executive branch officials and will fight to educate myself and others on the way to resistance.

This is my pledge.

And if we follow these steps, we will have a government that understands it must be by and for the people.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Sign up to our brand new weekly newsletter, Three Points.

Show notes:

Learn more about Fay Wolf:

Her book (website).

Her music (website).

Her (website, twitter, instagram).

Her Etsy Up Conference keynote on decluttering (YouTube).

Her quick hits on decluttering (Apartment Therapy).

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle (Amazon)

When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön (Amazon)

Many Rivers to Cross directed by Henry Louis Gates (website; Amazon)

We Are America feat. John Cena | Love Has No Labels by Ad Council (youtube)

Fay is a Camp Grounded alum (website)

Scotty is a Unique Camp alum (website)

To Make The World Better, Think Small (New York Times)

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Episode 19 | Look Up (with Whitney Dow)

This Episode was recorded on November 6, 2016 - two days before the Election. We briefly touch on the campaigns and the obvious unwillingness of much of the country to listen and digest opinions different from their own, but Whitney’s take both in the room as well as on an earlier episode of NPR’s Code Switch was one of hopefulness and forward movement, regardless of the outcome. I don’t think either of us could have anticipated the sequence of events that happened in the weeks since. On the podcast, we talk in depth about different narratives in regards to both racial identity and self-exploration.

Earlier this month, I saw this clip and it broke my heart. The woman on the panel so passionately argues for rumors she’s heard or read, without consideration to step back and question the legitimacy or common sense of what she’s taking in and rebroadcasting.

Desus and Mero were right, Facts Don’t Matter. As I tried to fight the overwhelming thought that this is how nearly half of the electorate seeks out information and arrives at an opinion, I realized the pain and frustration I felt was familiar. I was reminded of my experience watching the film Blue is the Warmest Color, the play This is Our Youth, and other pieces that still resonate deeply with me in a very specific way: they tell a story about the inability of a character to get out of his or her own way, or a refusal to let themselves recognize or know the truth. In each case, the reluctance to open up to a different narrative causes the deterioration of a relationship or destruction of self.

The characters in these stories can’t come to question their position, but I (irl) find such value in asking, questioning, or challenging where I stand and how I take my next step. Even before this election, I’ve grown to investigate what I think or believe and why I think or believe. I question the legitimacy or authenticity of everything I see, hear, or read. Whose voice am I embracing, and what should I learn from it? Will my integrity allow me to back this up? I’m prone to a categorical love of things as much as anyone, but I challenge myself to avoid unilaterally subscribing to any body of work or ideas from a single source. I strive to be judicious as I collect the things I want to share with the world. It can be difficult.

The other element of not considering another narrative is the refusal of someone else’s truth. Every story someone shares about how they see the world holds a bit of truth - their experience is real, their feelings are real. And while it goes both ways, it feels like the truths of groups who have been historically ignored or cast aside are again, with regularity, ignored and cast aside. There are signs of regression, of reverting back to periods of time in the country that feel like the rollback of social and civil progress in how we all see and treat one another.

Since I first heard the slogan, I’ve grappled with what “great” must indicate in regards to a period of time in the country. As much as I’ve inquired, I haven’t found a convincing or specific answer, but I posit that it may simply refer to a time with less people and less noise. An easier-to-digest country. This place is loud right now. Its population is bigger, with an increasing mix of types of people and ideas. There is more connectivity than ever, with more ways than ever to voice an opinion. There’s more exposure to all opinions. And though much of this has been present all along, maybe it’s too loud for some people. The truth is too much, the awareness too much. So rather than learn about it - our older generations, bless their hearts, are not known for their first-moving-early-adopterness for pretty much anything, so I suppose social, civil, and humanitarian progress I shouldn’t be an exception - the solution is to ignore or silence all these new opinions, ideas, movements, expressions, or beliefs. It’s just too loud. There’s too much consciousness, and this “great” time the President-elect keeps shouting about was just a time where there were fewer options to consider, fewer options of what to believe, what to watch, what to think, who to hire, who to befriend, who to trust, who to support. Maybe that’s a “great” time to reminisce upon to millions of folks. But for me, I want as many options as possible. Always have, always will. It’s the only way I’ve ever figured anything.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Show notes:

Learn more about Whitney Dow at his website. Follow him on twitter.

Check out his work with The Whiteness Project (website) and Veterans Coming Home (website).

See his film, Two Towns of Jasper (POV or teaser)

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

Apocalypse Or Racial Kumbaya? America After Nov. 8 (NPR Code Switch Podcast)

13TH (trailer)

White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo (direct PDF download or website)

Donald Trump is Gaslighting America (Teen Vogue and a link to this invaluable resource)

Van Jones Knows The Messy Truth (GQ)

The Tainted Election (New York Times)

A Cure for Post-Election Malaise (The Atlantic)

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Episode 18 | Stories Over Theories (with Darnell Moore)

Dear Mama and Daddy,

I am blue. I live in a very blue city, surrounded by blue friends, coworkers, colleagues, and peers. It’s a blue state, more right now than ever, but after the past week, it’s very obvious there are many places just as blue as California.

I know I was the one who moved away. I know that move and the things I’ve done with my life, the places I’ve lived and visited have shaped my views and beliefs. I know those views and beliefs are different than where and who I came from. But they have made me the person I am, the person you tell me time and again that you’re proud of. That you’re so happy for. That is doing great things with his life.

And that’s why I feel so blue.

For the last 7 days, I’ve had more friends reach out to one another to check in than any week in 15 years, save for that one day in Boston. More people I know organizing meals, gatherings, and circles to process, console, and activate one another. While last Wednesday wasn’t a tragedy on par with the killings, attacks, and lives lost that we’ve had to endure for much of this year, it feels overwhelmingly tragic to those of us who believed in a set of values and thought them to be universal. There is, without a doubt, a sense of massive loss - less to do with Not Getting To 270 First and more to do with the progress we believed was happening in how we all treat one another. And take care of one another. And see one another.

And I guess that makes me blue.

This has been impossible to explain in my text messages. It’s been nearly impossible for me to articulate to anyone I’ve spoken to. But thank you for taking the bits of information I’ve given you and giving me space rather than rhetoric.

Nothing else feels important right now. It’s been a very long time in my life since I had to work to find the energy to carry on. Or to respond to pictures of my nephews. Or to tell you about my day. This fog I’m in forces me to consider what may or may not hold enough meaning to garner my attention - a problem I rarely have, as I pride myself on finding fascination and joy in everything. But the world feels different right now.

Last Wednesday, my friends - our friends - were sad, angry, shocked, hysterical, depressed. I received countless messages asking “how are you doing?” or “how do you feel?”

It was - and still is - difficult to describe. I felt something. A sense of loss that was new…but also oddly familiar.

Familiar maybe because I pursue a line of work in an industry where a 5% success rate creates a career.

Familiar maybe because I train for months to run marathon after marathon, almost always finishing short of my goal.

But maybe also familiar because I’m used to getting my heart broken by people who champion an ideology different than mine.

I just didn’t know there were so many of those people. And I didn’t know so many of them were so close to me.

The other reason this loss feels familiar - and this is not hyperbole, but I haven’t felt this way since my each of my grandparents passed away. I say that because it’s a weight I can’t escape. It’s in every breath I try to take. And I think the thing that feels most similar is that I didn’t do enough. Just like I wish I did more with them in their last days, I wish I did more in the days before November 8th. Just like in March 2006 and July 2011, I feel like I’m losing my heroes I hold as beacons for what is right in the world.

And right now, I wish I wasn’t such a Good Son. I wish I wasn’t such a Quiet, Obedient Son. I wish I’d faced the discomfort, fought through the shouting, insisted through the doubt, for you to consider my side. I wish I’d said no to comfort or calm or myself and yes to presence and instigation and others. If my heroes are going to disappear, I want to know I gave everything I had until the very last second.

And so I’ve made a promise to myself: If you’re going to disagree with my beliefs, I want you to have to disagree with my actions.

This feeling of loss makes me - maybe like many - want to retreat. Maybe that’s natural: defeat is defeating. I was loud and ended up on the ‘wrong’ side (by that, I mean ‘the side that didn’t win’). And to be loud and ‘wrong’ is embarrassing. We get defensive, we want to get away, we want to be quiet.

But with what has happened in the country this year, the light that has shone on the differences, the problems, the issues - I have to believe this is only a bump in the road. Or maybe the bridge is out. But there’s no retreating. I insist that I must be part of the country that fights on - armed with hope and integrity and empathy - for what we believe to be true.

So instead of feeling like I was somehow less on Tuesday night than I was on Tuesday morning, I decided to feel like I was MORE important. Instead of feeling small, I made the decision to be bigger. Instead of feeling that I had been silenced, I made the decision to let my voice ring.

And to decide to be important, bigger, and louder is a form of privilege. There is a reality that many people in this country were given a message on Tuesday night that they are not welcome, not accepted, not American. And that message is absolutely and wholly incorrect. The tacit endorsement of that message by almost half of the country is dangerous, harmful, careless, and selfish. And so those of us who have the privilege to do more must do more. Those of us who are blue must do more.

This week, I’ve thought a lot about how I was raised. Beliefs aside, I am who I am because of a set of virtues I learned from you: an unstoppable work ethic, a stoic character, and a confidence that life is made up of a series of happy endings. And, perhaps most important, the necessity of taking care of myself and those around me with small but special acts of intention.

And those virtues give me faith that I was raised better. That I learned better to not cower when I am passionate but perhaps unheard. Very few times in my life have I given up at the first sign of loss, weakness, intimidation, or challenge. This will not be one of those times. Cory Booker, someone I think you’ll hear a lot more of in the very near future, shared a quote that captures how I’ve navigated much of my life and this past week:

"The devil whispered in my ear, 'You are not strong enough for the storm.' Today I whispered in the devil's ear, 'I am the storm.'"

I love you with my whole heart - and if you can understand that I share that kind of love and life with everyone across this country, then I think you’ll understand why I feel so blue right now.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes. Check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Learn more about Darnell:

Profile and stories at Mic

“Meet Coach Khali and the Detroit Youth He's Creating a Safe Space For in an Unlikely Place” - Episode from The Movement (Mic)

@Moore_Darnell on twitter

Moonlight (Official site, trailer on youtube)

For Film's Creators, 'Moonlight' Provided Space To Explore A Painful Past (Fresh Air on NPR)

There’s no shortage of meaningful, thought-provoking content on the Internet right now. Here are some of my favorites:

Junot Diaz captured the emotions, thoughts, and temperature perfectly. If you’re able, read this aloud to yourself: Radical Hope by Junot Diaz (The New Yorker)

The definition of poignancy. A beautiful read on the grace and inspiration of FLOTUS: Michelle Obama: A Candid Conversation With America’s Champion and Mother in Chief by Jonathan Van Meter (Vogue Magazine)

Shiny New Skin, Same Old Snake: Jelani Cobb (Think Again Podcast)

Things to do and ways to support, organize, learn, or participate:

This is What You Can Do Now (The Fader)

27 Productive Things You Can Do If You’re Upset About The Election (Buzzfeed)

Michael Moore’s day after to do list (Alternet)

Skylight Books recommends 5 books that help explain how we got here (Skylight)

On processing the news:

As much as my friends and I tried to intellectually try to figure out why what happened happened, it wasn’t until I read this, beautifully written, that I started to grasp the bigger picture (that I so often forget as a man, even one with feminist intentions): On Hillary and the prospect of a woman president by Rebecca Traister (New York Magazine)

A letter to America from Leslie Knope, regarding Donald Trump (Vox)

The Pendulum Swings Both Ways by Alex Young (Medium)

Late Night with Seth Meyers on the day after (Youtube)

What Normalization Means by Hua Hsu (The New Yorker)

How My Middle School Students Responded to the Election Results on November 9th (li.st)

How Trump Made Hate Intersectional by Rembert Browne (New York Magazine)

On parents speaking to their children about the election results:

Aaron Sorkin’s letter to his daughter (Vanity Fair)

The Day After The Election, I Told My Daughter The Truth by Nicole Chung (Buzzfeed)

I Will Teach My Children To Survive The New America by Manuel Gonzales (Buzzfeed)

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EPISODE 17 | FEELS GOOD TO BE HOME

We let the podcast take a summer vacation but are back to work and as excited as ever.

Episode 18 will be in your ears next week, but in the meantime, check out our new website and visit our Patreon page if you feel so inclined.

Thank you as always.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

One United Bank (Open a checking or savings account online)

Apply to vote by mail (in California)

13TH (Netflix or Trailer)

The new and improved massandvolu.me

M+V on Patreon

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EPISODE 16 | WHAT MATTERS

It is so difficult to process what happened to Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge, Philando Castile in Falcon Heights, and Lorne Ahrens, Michael Krol, Michael J. Smith, Brent Thompson, and Patrick Zamarripa in Dallas last week.

This is the only time I’ve ever felt the phrase “my life is a movie” actually apply, because I didn’t think this kind of tragedy, violence, and sadness from people existed in our world. There is nothing I can say here that will provide any unique insight to the incidents, lives, or deaths of these people, but my mind has been at war with itself for the last week, and this is an attempt to mitigate that unrest. Below, I encourage you to browse some very well-written articles that are tough, enlightening, and important reads. I found them valuable in contextualizing where we are as a country and a culture.

In this episode, I speak about the impact of tragedy on our ability to communicate with the world, specifically through social and digital platforms. If a city is trending, I hope it’s because some pop star was seen walking around outside. If it’s a person’s first and last name, I hope it’s some athlete I’ve never heard of who just made a highlight or signed a contract. I want so badly for trending proper nouns to be as unimportant as possible.

Connected to this is the reality check that this news isn’t actually news - that the things sparking outrage, marches, discussions, debates over the last week have not only existed for decades, they exist all the time. And ignoring those things when there are no headlines does nothing to help, only hurt; and feeling overwhelmed, stuck, or frozen when all I see are headlines does nothing to help, only hurt. I admire to such a degree the people leading from the front: organizing, speaking out, fighting for change, and setting an example for those who are on the way to externalizing that internal unrest.

Several of the recommendations below include suggestions for actions with great potency and reach - many that require time and courage. By comparison, the podcast contains three small, hyper-local ideas, but ones that are easy to digest and enact:

1. Learn as much as possible from people connected to the conflict.

2. Hold the door open for everyone.

3. Acknowledge that we’re all in this together.

Because - we are all in this together.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

WAYS TO TAKE ACTION

14 Steps to Take Action by Ijeoma Oluo (twitter)

OK, so you want to take action. Now what? by Larissa Pham (Google Doc)

What can Asian and Pacific Islanders--the fastest growing racial group in our country, and the fastest growing immigrant group, documented and undocumented--do to support the movement for Black Lives? (Facebook or Crowd-sourced letter)

9 Books You Can Read If You’re New To Social Justice by Liz Raiss (The Fader)

4 Ways You Can Fight Police Violence In America by Jordan Darville (The Fader)

The White Ally Playbook by Michael Skolnik (Mic)

Pledge and Stand with the Movement for Black Lives (Website)

Tim Wise on antiracist activism (mixcloud)

RECOMMENDED ARTICLES

Am I Going to Write About Murdered Black People Forever? by Kara Brown (Jezebel)

“We cannot appeal to a national conscience when, as Stokely Carmichael reminded us, there is none.”

I Am Tired Of Watching Black People Die by Hannah Giorgis (Buzzfeed)

“To be black in America is to exist in haunting, mundane proximity to death at all moments.”

Alton Sterling and When Black Lives Stop Mattering by Roxane Gray (New York Times)

“I don’t know how to feel that my life matters when there is so much evidence to the contrary.”

What to Do When They Don’t Want You to Exist by Rembert Browne (New York Magazine)

“The rules have changed, so the tactics also have to change. It’s no longer just about speaking out. White people have to internally change the structures that promote bigotry, from organizations to law enforcement to political parties, while minority groups have to protect themselves and make sure that trauma doesn’t lead to irreversible acts that cause more trauma.”

Surviving Suffocating Sadness When You’re Black and Confused by Ashley Weatherford (New York Magazine)

“Besides, the idea of writing about pretty little packages of makeup on a day like yesterday made me nauseous with disillusion.”

Michael Brown’s Mom, on Alton Sterling and Philando Castile by Lezley McSpadden (New York Times)

What Will Make the Killings Stop? by Vann R. Newkirk II (The Atlantic)

“Vigilance, complaints, scrutiny, and even rare prosecutions have done little to curb routine violence.

There is a sense of normalcy to what should be absolutely extraordinary.

If there actually is any resolve to keep history from repeating itself and to end the parade of death, Americans will have to challenge the state’s authorization of violence beyond individual police acts, and investigate the purposes of policing that drive its use. Until then, people will continue to die.”

Yes, Black America Fears the Police. Here’s Why. by Nikole Hannah-Jones (Pro Publica)

Believe Without Seeing by Robinson Meyer (The Atlantic)

“Only because the videos exist is the wider public permitted to believe. American democracy will be all the stronger if Americans can recognize that sometimes they will never be able to see—yet must still believe.”

‘It’s hard being a black man in this city’ (Video via MSNBC)

The Near Certainty of Anti-Police Violence by Ta-Nehisi Coates (The Atlantic)

President Obama Speaks at Interfaith Memorial Service in Dallas, TX (YouTube)

“I’m here to say we must reject such despair. I’m here to insist that we are not as divided as we seem...

“We cannot simply turn away and dismiss those in peaceful protest as troublemakers, or paranoid...

“It is not about finding policies that work; it’s about forging consensus; fighting cynicism; and finding the will to make change...

"I believe our sorrow can make us a better country. I believe our righteous anger can be transformed into more justice & more peace" 

"Can we see in each other a common humanity, a shared dignity, and recognize how our different experiences have shaped us?"

Baton Rouge Cries Out by Micah Peters (The Ringer)

I’d want to tell you that we need each other, you and I. That if we joined hands we could accomplish great things together — that we could make this country great, for once.

AUDIO IN THIS EPISODE

Killer Mike speaks on Hot 107.9 (Facebook)

“How (rough mix)” by Miguel (SoundCloud)

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Episode 15 | AM I ONE, AM I BOTH, AM I NEITHER? (with Shelby Smith)

My conversation with Shelby Smith started with a story she told at Mixed Remix (which she retells in this episode). It hit me in the chest in several ways. The first was a question she posed to the panel, paraphrased as: “Have you ever had a situation where you caught yourself exerting privilege over someone, after most of your life struggling against someone else’s privilege?” I’d never deeply considered this - that beyond the 5 Nickels, there are so many other layered, very real markers for privilege. And while those markers are categories, privilege is not categorical and does not exist in a vacuum. To catch ourselves on the other side of the interaction is to instantly have a profound experience of actual empathy.

The other, more specific thing was the catalyst in the story itself. 

Shelby had taken a photo of a misspelled word on a menu - a longtime favorite hobby of mine. I used to glare at misspellings and grammatical mistakes on large, expensive, permanent signs, a mix of shock and entertainment that no one proofread something installed and displayed for thousands to see for years to come. I’d often post a photo of these signs with the caption “#soclose.” More and more, it put me on the lookout for typos and errors. And like driving a new type of car for the first time, I started to notice they were everywhere. So I kept taking photos, not only of large, expensive, permanent signs, but also chalkboards, temporary printed announcements, menus, and anything else I came across. Most of these “opportunities” were at restaurants, liquor stores, and other establishments probably owned, founded, or built by people very different than me, with a different background and access to education. And though I haven’t done so in a while (mostly due to an aversion to hashtags rather than an integrity-based revelation), I still took the occasional photo and made the occasional comment, my friends and I still getting a good laugh or shake of the head. At one point, we even explored the idea of compiling a #SOCLOSE coffee table book that would surely feel at home on the entrance table at your local Urban Outfitters.

So, Shelby’s story was obviously a moment of instant reflection. I mean, half of my family learned English as a second or third language. At no point would I find it entertaining if someone made fun of something my mother created that happened to have incorrect pluralization. Sitting in that panel discussion was one of the few times in life where I needed a Zack-Morris-style “Timeout!” to break the fourth wall and address the audience (AKA myself). While I wasn’t always deliberately or pointedly making fun of someone, I was definitely making fun of someone’s lack of knowledge without ever considering their story.

And that’s when I realized the message I stress to everyone around me, to everyone who will listen  - Ask. Consider. Exercise empathy. - I was blatantly not doing. The details may sound like a minor thing, but the experience made me check myself in a lot of major ways and ask if there’s anything else I’m doing that makes me any less a part of the solution I’m after.

And I think that question is good and necessary for us all to investigate from time to time.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

Mixed Remix Festival (website)

Loving Day (website)

Tim Wise (website)

Maya Osborne: Confessions of a Quadroon (documentary or poetry reading)

Shelby’s recommendations/points of inspiration:

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry (Amazon)

Imitation of Life (1959) (iTunes)

The Giver (Book on Amazon, film on iTunes)

Shelby on Instagram (follow)

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EPISODE 14 | THE TRAUMA OF NORMALCY (with Jess Row)

Yesterday, I attended the Mixed Remix Festival in Los Angeles, a cultural festival “celebrating stories of the Mixed experience, multiracial and multicultural families and individuals through films, books and performance.” There were screenings, panels, and workshops focused on film, writing, relationships, child raising, advocacy, organizing, and leadership. In Episode 5, Noah Cho talked about teaching at the SDLC and the experience of walking into a room and, for the first time, seeing a group of people who looked like the person we see in the mirror. And for the first time, I found myself in a room with a group of people who were also always seen as different - not quite this, not quite that, but quite often, "what ARE you?" - and it had an incredibly profound, emotional effect on me.

And presence at the festival indicated a desire to examine identity and an existential need to explore cultural composition. As mixed race, there's half or a quarter or a smaller-but-equally-important part of our makeup that has gone overlooked, ignored, or absorbed, and at some point we all realized that part of us - and that parent or ancestor - needed some deep investigation. Or perhaps the multiracial experience itself was overlooked, ignored, or absorbed and needed some deep investigation. And most often, before this weekend, that's done in solitude, watching videos or reading pieces made by people far away or years away. Or maybe there are one or two others - a sibling, a few friends with similar makeup - who want to digest these things. But to find hundreds of mixed race people yesterday on the path to figuring themselves out was special. Every room I entered had a palpable feeling of love, inclusion, and excitement.

I watched and highly recommend several films that confront and process identity, epiphany, discomfort, discrimination, and stereotypes in different ways: Maya Osborne: Confessions of a Quadroon (documentary and poetry - “highly recommend” is putting that one lightly), Evoking The Mulatto (first person testimonials), and Almost Asian (comedy).

During one panel, the moderator referenced two pieces that also bear attention: The Bill of Rights for People of Mixed Heritage by Dr. Maria P. P. Root (PDF) and the Six Rules for Allies from Dr. Omi Osun Joni L. Jones.

And it's from here that yesterday's experience ties into this episode. Jess Row's novel Your Face In Mine occurs in the not-too-distant future, where race is treated as a fluid element of identity. It's a complicated, controversial subject, and the book presents a layered and brilliant story to allow the reader to weigh the moral and social implications of altering one's own race, and to pass as another, based on emotional discomfort.

One character’s self-diagnosed “Racial Identity Dysphoria Syndrome” is templated from the country’s growing conversation on gender dysphoria and the physiological and social aspects of transgenderism. That is to say, it is modeled on a concept largely present, if not approved, in all parts of reasonable society because we believe gender and sexuality are innate. But when replaced with race, a complicated issue becomes even more tangled.

And yesterday, in reading The Bill of Rights for People of Mixed Heritage, I realized that racial identity is at times absolutely fluid. An excerpt:

I Have The Right:

Not to be responsible for people’s discomfort with my physical or ethnic ambiguity.

I Have The Right:

To identify myself differently than strangers expect me to identify.

To identify myself differently than how my parents identify me.

To identify myself differently than my brothers and sisters.

To identify myself differently in different situations.

I Have The Right:

To change my identity over my lifetime--and more than once.

To have loyalties and identification with more than one group of people.

And this is not just rhetoric. I know multiracial siblings who each identity with a different part of their ethnicity. Or a different parent. Or a different grandparent.

Which asks questions of the terms of racial transition. Does someone's 50% allow more permission to an identity than someone else's 25%? Does 6.25% permit someone to identify with their Great Great Grandmother? How different is 6.25% than 0%? And, how likely is 0%? Suddenly, I didn’t feel qualified to answer any of those questions.

Your Face In Mine was the first book I picked up after Between The World And Me. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a complementary read. Whereas Coates talks about the danger and destruction of the Dream and the torrid state of affairs for the lives of nearly 40 million Americans, requiring us to look back with intention in order to understand how we arrived in this state, Row’s characters take a different approach by looking forward. Perhaps Martin - the aforementioned character with racial dysphoria - thinks he’s found a solution to the feeling he had from reading something like Coates as an upper-middle class white Jewish man, or to the pain from police brutality and murders on the news. His solution rests on a concept: if we feel more connected to something different or need to escape the dread of what we are, simply change it.

Because we all reinvent ourselves. I’d argue that it’s important to test our beliefs and interests and influence frequently. This sort of whittling - or sharpening - of ourselves can be subtle or extreme, but is typically seen as harmless. Part of that sharpening is grabbing pieces from people, cultures, and things we see, like, absorb, and admire. Some of which may exist outside our own heritage.

My understanding and support of transgenderism is as strong as my confusion and anger at stories of racial passing. But as I read Your Face in Mine, I couldn’t help but explore my own identity, especially with the main characters speaking about the beauty of Chinese culture, quoting hip-hop lyrics, and sharing consciousness and outrage against privilege and institutional racism in the country. In constructive ways, it added to the challenge I face in defining how I appear and resonate in the world. And as I continue to sharpen, the experience of reading the book reminds me of the most important thing I heard at Mixed Remix (as it is the founding principle of M+V):

To ask everyone "What's your story?" is to better understand ourselves.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

Your Face in Mine by Jess Row (Amazon or iTunes or iTunes Audiobook)

Deep Diving: Your Face in Mine (a highly underrated li.st)

In a Novelist’s World, You Choose Your Race - Jess Row’s ‘Your Face in Mine’ Explores ‘Racial Reassignment’ (New York Times)

Choose Your Own Race (New York Times Sunday Book Review - contains plot and theme spoilers)

Dear Yale by Jess Row (Guernica)

Watching a Speculative Novel Come to Life in Rachel Dolezal’s Story by Jess Row (Flavorwire - contains plot and theme spoilers)

Rachel Dolezal signs publishing deal to write book on race (The Guardian)

Color Lines: Racial Passing in America (Backstory Podcast)

The Short but Intriguing History of White Americans Pretending to Be Black (Slate)

Passing by Nella Larson (Amazon)

On The Education of Little Tree (Wikipedia or NPR or New York Times)

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz (Amazon)

‘All Immigrants Are Artists’ -Edwidge Danticat (The Atlantic)

Jess’ recommendations/points of inspiration:

Another Country by James Baldwin (Amazon or iTunes or iTunes Audiobook)

James Baldwin reads from Another Country (YouTube)

Jess Row (website or Twitter)

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EPISODE 13 | THIS CONFLICTING DICHOTOMY OF AMERICAN LIFE (with Jess Dela Merced)

Film is a powerful medium. It can equally change someone’s individual path in life as well as the mindset of large groups of people.  It can affect the discourse of the country,  creating transformative conversations from classrooms to cafes. In the last three years alone, I’ve seen a half-dozen films that reshaped my life’s path (including arriving at this podcast) and many more that influenced aspects of the culture around me. And then I look back at classic cinema that still holds these capabilities - films that were a daring, bold accomplishment both then and now.

But in thinking of these kinds of movies - ones that make a statement or impact in meaningful ways - I can’t help but think of the complexity of striking the balance between tribute and exploitation. 

Filmmakers are quickly criticized for a “lack of authenticity,” but the very nature of the medium demands artistic license: a narrative film is a story told through the lens of the director. But often, even when the filmmaker has great intention, the work threatens to reduce, marginalize, or exclude the very group(s) it tries to salute. Things are further complicated when the filmmaking team doesn’t share the history, struggle, or story with the film’s subject. As an actor and filmmaker with ambitions to be a part of movies that matter - most of which are different that my own personal narrative - it’s daunting. I’m still exploring how to best tell someone’s else’s story through my perspective without having lived it myself - how to simultaneously retain all the fascination and all the truth.

After we recorded this episode, I had a conversation with Jess about a film that had great critical and festival acclaim at the start of last year but didn’t make much of a splash after its release. I’d written the lack of influence off since it was an independent film without any “bankable” stars, but she believed it was because the film was exploitative and not a true depiction of the world it claims to represent.

I was bothered, because I feel like I have a high Sus-O-Meter for things that are inauthentic or, as she articulated, created for the privileged to feel good about spending a few hours in a different world. Jess made the point that authenticity contains a certain quality of raw, unapologetic truth. I was left wondering if what I saw as farce was actually a glossy, whitewashed, accessible caricature of a community I felt connected to.

As a filmmaker, Jess has made and written stories about minorities and people of color in America, shining a light on microaggressions between and within the subcultures of America. Her stories confront race, class, assimilation, abandonment, and identity through characters who are both heartbreaking and humorous. That said, she shares that concern of telling someone’s story that speaks to her under the immense pressures of ensuring it doesn’t lack that person’s truth.

Jess is a female Filipino-American filmmaker, and her other concern about new projects creates a paradox so many artists: as an underrepresented minority in Hollywood, if she chooses to tell stories based on her personal experiences and her culture, will they fall on deaf ears because of the lack of support and infrastructure in the film industry? The outcry to make Hollywood and the film/television industry more representative is loud right now. The landscape is changing and is debatably at a stronger place than ever. But the still-glaring disparity acts as a deterrent for people of color to tell - or to be able to tell - their stories.

I re-watched Creed last month and confirmed it’s far and away my favorite my film of 2015. It was more powerful, more emotionally resonant to me than any Best Picture nominee because the story was so human. Yes, I love watching Wallace/Vince and boxing films have a built-in, feel-good, redemption story, but I felt like I knew the characters in Creed. They had such substance and such human struggles. And while two of the three leads are strong, fearless actors of color who have both done made the types of films I started talking about six paragraphs ago (Dear White People, Fruitvale Station), and the director is one of the champions leading this movement from the front, Creed is what it is because they were given the opportunity to be in this film. This franchise. The movie would suffer with a “safer,” “more traditional,” “bankable” team.

And because of that, creating and watching a film has the opportunity to raise our standards of humanity. To be restricted to certain archetypes in the stories we see and hear is to limit our definitions of heroes, of companions, of friends, of lovers. But when we’re offered narratives on screen - or in music, books, art, media, or any other sector of life - that match our everyday lives, we continue to find ourselves in others.

The problem of underrepresentation in Hollywood isn’t merely a casting or employment issue, it’s a human issue, and we should all demand more from the things we create, consume, and experience.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

What Role Do Asian Americans Have in the Campus Protests? (The Atlantic)

When People of Color are Discouraged from Going into The Arts (The Atlantic)

Sold Out: The Underground Economy of Supreme Resellers by Complex (YouTube)

NYU's Black List-Inspired Purple List Reveals Diverse Group of Winners (Hollywood Reporter) / Tisch Grad Film Announced 2016 Purple List (NYU)

Learn more about Jess (website)

Hypebeasts by Jess dela Merced (Hulu)

Jess’ recommendations/points of inspiration:

Do The Right Thing by Spike Lee (YouTube or iTunes)

East of Eden by Elia Kazan (YouTube or iTunes)

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EPISODE 12 | HOW I MET YOUR FATHER (with Pihsiou Crowe)

Today is Mother’s Day - what I deem the most important day of the year. It’s my favorite holiday. I think the women in our lives cannot be celebrated enough.

My mom was born in Taiwan a few years after my grandparents fled from mainland China with Chiang Kai-shek. A few years later, the family moved to Japan, where most of my mom’s childhood memories begin (Japanese was her first language). My grandfather became an ambassador for the Taiwanese embassy, so my mom experienced challenges of displacement and adjustment time and again as a Chinese girl in Japan, in Taiwan, and of course in the US when the family moved to Washington, D.C. in 1969. 

Additionally, my grandfather is from Heilongjiang province and has ancestry in neighboring Mongolia and Russia, so he had a multiracial, multicultural family. My mom collected bits of her own culture mixed with the different places she lived and different places my grandfather traveled before landing in College Park, GA - a place that presented the biggest culture shock of all. After living in Atlanta for a few years, my parents moved to the “Golden Isles” of Georgia, where my dad had visited as a child and long since vowed to live one day. There are few places on Earth that strike me as possibly more different than Southeast Asia than Southeast Georgia.

But my mom seems pretty unshaken by it all. Maybe she was used to constant movement in her life. Or maybe family was always the focus, so the environment was relatively inconsequential. Regardless, because she learned English in the South, she has the most pronounced drawl of anyone in our family. She learned Southern cooking and traditions. And she had two multiracial kids. She represents cross-sections of experiences, cultures, and ethnicities. She is the blueprint for the fascination fueling this podcast.

And despite the constant displacement, repeated pressures to assimilate, and hardships endured, she radiates more kindness, joy, compassion, and wide-eyed wonder than anyone I know. I think she often forgets the impact she’s had on so many people - so what started out as simply recording a conversation with my mom evolved into a chance to have her story impact a few more. I hope you’ll enjoy.

-Scotty

Subscribe to Mass + Volume on iTunes.

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Episode 11 | CROCKETT AND TUBBS (with David Ryan Harris)

There’s a passage in Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time where the three children are speaking to the Mrs. W’s about the battle against Evil: the battle of light versus dark. Mrs. Whatsit tells the travelers:

"All through the universe it's being fought, all through the cosmos, and my, but it's a grand and exciting battle... some of our very best fighters have come right from your own planet, and it's a little planet, dears, out on the edge of a little galaxy. You can be proud that it's done so well."

"Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked.

"Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs. Whatsit said.

Mrs. Who's spectacles shone out at them triumphantly, "And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."

"Jesus!" Charles Wallace said. "Why of course, Jesus!"

"Of course!" Mrs. Whatsit said. "Go on, Charles, love. There were others. All your great artists. They've been lights for us to see by."

All our great artists. They have been lights.

I remember this passage thanks to my 7th Grade Language Arts teacher, Mr. Miller. At this point in the novel, our lesson was to consider these “light bearers” and discuss why they were included in the novel. We then added names to the list - I remember him writing Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Harriet Tubman, Mother Theresa, and FDR’s names on the board. Many others come to mind now - the list continues to grow in perpetuity as artists, great minds, leaders, creators, intellectuals, philanthropists, and others impact our world in ways that make a great difference. I’d love to know what Ms. L’Engle’s list looks like in 2016.

I would like to think it’d include Prince, an Artist who spread his own unique light on millions. Over the last 4 days, the outpour of both sadness and love has been overwhelming - the only comparable artist who comes to mind in my lifetime is Michael Jackson, but this feels different. Something about Prince always seemed evasive, subversive, difficult, challenging. It’s as if he never made an attempt to appeal to everyone - or anyone - and I think that lack of easy accessibility creates a strong bond both with the artist and with other admirers who broke through that wall.

What is interesting from the standpoint of this podcast is Prince’s identity and how he pioneered - or antagonized - the concept of identity, labels, and stereotypes. “He was all slashes.” When I first discovered him - around the time he dropped name in favor of the symbol - there’s no way I could have guessed his age, race, gender, orientation, or made any generality about him, so I never even speculated. And I think there’s a lesson there of a good model for how we should take people in without speculation. In doing that, we’re choosing substance over surface, function over form.

The loss of a hero is always tough, but I like to think that any pain is quickly medicated with the knowledge they they fight on for all of us against the darkness.

-Scotty

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In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

More on DRH (twitter, instagram, or send him a note)

David’s Prince story (tumblr)

David’s cover of “The Beautiful Ones” (youtube)

The School of Life: 100 Questions (TSOL Shop)

Malcolm X - “The Ballot of the Bullet” Speech 4/14/64 (youtube)

David’s recommendations/points of inspiration:

Sign o’ The Times - Prince (iTunes)

Songs in the Key of Life - Stevie Wonder (iTunes)

There’s a Riot Goin’ On - Sly and The Family Stone (iTunes)

Revolver - The Beatles (iTunes)

I Against I - Bad Brains (iTunes)

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran (Amazon)

The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff (Amazon)

The Autobiography of Malcolm X as told to Alex Haley by Malcolm X (Amazon)

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Episode 10 | RADICAL, PROACTIVE EMPATHY (with Willie Jackson)

Develop a negative into a positive picture.

Ferguson marked a turning point for the country. We knew it wasn’t the first time those kinds of things happened, but it was the first time they showed up in such an overwhelming way on screens across the country. Those months in Missouri changed The Conversation. It changed what I talk about and how I talk about it. But on a greater level, it catalyzed activism across a broad spectrum: an uprising of voices, movements, ideas, literature, media, and art (including, but certainly not limited to: Black Lives Matter, citizen journalism and DeRay and Netta, Between The World And Me). And each of those spawned branches of new ideas, voices, and projects, and so on. 

Ferguson broke the ice to talk about unbalanced systems in the country as a whole. The crisis in Flint, the outrage in Hollywood, the entertainment-industry boycotts in non-tolerant states across the South - all tough realities that feel slightly easier to address as the topic of privilege and oppression now sits firmly on the table. Even though we’re not all on the same page, it feels like we’re finally in the same room.

I’ve mentioned this before, but I was one of the people rocked by what I saw on Twitter and other media and felt I could no longer acquiesce as I watched what was going on around me. I’m trying to figure out how to solve the problem I have inside with the way people are treated; I’m fighting to encourage everyone to consider that person on the news who looks different than they do - how would the perspective change if she were your best friend? Or sister? Or if he were your son? Talking about race might be scary. Let’s talk about people. Individuals.

This week’s guest, Willie Jackson, used a term I love: radical and proactive empathy. More than a powerful concept, I see it as a necessity. I believe it to be the overarching explanation for the birth of the voices, movements, and ideas that changed the country’s landscape over the past 2 years. One of Willie’s contributions to the conversation is Abernathy Magazine, named after the pastor and civil rights leader from Atlanta - another man who fought for radical and proactive empathy.

I like to think hope and optimism prevail through times of tragedy - that change is instigated with the desire to make a better situation from the one we’ve endured. And though the conversations can be tough, they strike me as movement towards a better place for all of us. There is no silver lining to the hundreds of unfair deaths of civilians, but the growing openness, the reforming policies, the rising voices seem to signal a special time for us all.

And that gives me great hope for the future.

-Scotty

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In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

David Simon at the Institute on Inequality and Democracy (UCLA Luskin)

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron (Amazon)

The Art of Stillness by Pico Iyer (Amazon)

The Domino Project (website) and works of Seth Godin (website)

Willie’s recommendations/points of inspiration:

Entry points from the Abernathy canon:

Stokely and the Birth of Black Power by Dr. Lawrence Brown (Abernathy)

How to Be Beige by Tylea Richard (Abernathy)

A Letter to My Father by Kwame Rose (Abernathy)

Sundays with My Grandmother by James Fisher (Abernathy)

Deep Work by Cal Newport (Amazon)

High Price by Dr. Carl Hart (Amazon)

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie (Amazon)

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Episode 9 | NO ONE ELSE HAS MY STORY (with Maggie Lin)

One topic I want to explore on the podcast is the meaning of and relationship to “being American.” I want to explore how people from different backgrounds or different cultures, all of whom are citizens, express their Americanism. Is it patriotism? Does it require assimilation? Or is the actual freedom of choice and expression (not just in action, but in being) the fullest embodiment of being American?

Though “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” is most associated with Bumper Stickers I Would Never Purchase, there’s still power in that idea, 239 ½ years later. The implication that we’re all supposed to pursue our version of the best life possible, no matter what, is like the world’s gold standard of how to exist. 

There are a growing number of groups in education, product development, and management that share this “Here’s a team of non-traditional people. Here are some resources. Do whatever you want to make a difference, find a solution, or create something.” And they’re heralded as a front-of-the-pack, revolutionary, “black-ops” subset of their industry for living freely outside normal constructs. But that’s what TJ was saying in that line in the DoI - it’s a powerful notion. We are that subset. And if that’s the glue holding it all together, different forms of expression shouldn’t be seen as deviation, but foundation.

But in talking to folks, it seems that some will always feel at odds with the label “American.” Some on their own accord - feeling like outsiders because they don’t know how or where they fit in - and others from a prevailing attitude that Americans look, speak and live a certain way. Some guests associate the word more as a metaphor, representing ideas, and others as a generality as useless as any other damaging stereotype we deal with on a daily basis.

Maybe it was my 2nd Grade teacher (Mrs. Hirsch, I still know how to spell “chrysanthemum” because of you), but I’ve always had a romantic vision of the country as “a melting pot.” Subconsciously, perhaps, as I realize it describes my own nuclear family, but the idea that we’re all in this together, learning and growing from one another, was presented to me in such a romantic way. And to me, it creates such great (and obvious) policy, ideas, and art - so that it feels archaic to see the country defined by a narrow description. I think the definition of “American” is ever-evolving, just as the country itself, only looking forward.

-Scotty

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In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

Foster Care Counts (website)

Occam’s Razor (Wikipedia)

I Miss Barack Obama by David Brooks (New York Times)

Maggie’s recommendations/points of inspiration:

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand (Amazon)

The Power of Perception: 6 Steps to Behavioral Change by Hyrum Smith (Amazon)

Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, And Why by Laurence Gonzales (Amazon)

The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog And Other Stories from a Child Psychiatrist's Notebook--What Traumatized Children Can Teach Us About Loss, Love, and Healing by Dr. Bruce Perry and Maia Szalavitz (Amazon)

The Road To Character by David Brooks (Amazon, or the adapted essay The Moral Bucket List in the New York Times)

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EPISODE 8 | SEGA! (with Lee Padgett)

Continuing with last week’s Passport idea, I sat down with my best friend of more than 20 years to talk about his recent trip around the world and how it influenced his sense of identity. He and his fiancée took 15 months and traveled through 40 countries* across 6 continents. They have stories for days.

One thing I admire about Lee’s trip is much of it was done at breakneck speed - arriving in a town, exploring locally or regionally as much as possible in 24-36 hours, and then moving on to the next. It allowed them to fill every single one of their 400+ days on the road. 

They also traveled and lived locally for most of the run - hitting more small villages than metropolitan cities, traveling more via bus and car than plane or train, and choosing more campsites, hostels, or new friends than hotels or resorts. They learned about the cultures, subcultures, and environments from residents rather than folks who recite the same polished script to dozens of tourists every day. If there was an authentic way to travel the world, they did it.

The last few months of their trip took a different path and pace, though. They’d really enjoyed their trek across Vietnam and decided to use an otherwise unplanned month to return to Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City. They found an apartment and lived there for a month - maybe the longest the two of them had been in the same place at the same time in more than 2 years. The most common (and impossible) question I hear folks ask Lee is, “What was your favorite place?” Every time, he answers, “Vietnam.” In addition to Pauline’s Vietnamese heritage and the value of spending time in the place generations of her family called home, Lee could talk for hours about the people and their kindness, a cultural feeling of inclusion, a youthful, creative, energized population, the food, the low cost of good living, and the wonderfully varied landscapes the country has to offer.

So they stayed in the apartment in Vietnam for four weeks before traveling to Australia and tramping for a month, essentially living a simple, off-the-beaten-path life in national parks across the continent. What I love most about this change of pace is they began using their days to absorb thoughts, ideas, and culture from books, articles, podcasts, videos, and other forms of media. After spending a year taking in external stimuli, they shifted to a more introspective mode of inspiration. And when they arrived home, they had lived through two very unique and special sets of experiences, and with it, a profound sense of what really mattered. They were, as they say, running out of pages in their Passport.

The fact that further illuminates the triumph of this journey is how I know Lee. We grew up in Southeast Georgia (and are two members of the three-person committee fighting to rename that part of the country “SEGA”). Before I convinced him to move to Los Angeles with me, he’d never been on an airplane. Even with my proud touring and travel history, his experience and knowledge of how the world works dwarfs mine.

Our hometown of Brunswick, Georgia is one of many places in the South with a complicated history: natural and architectural beauty, etiquette and manners, and noble tradition mixed with an ugly past, exclusion and bigotry, and dangerous expressions of heritage. The South’s ties to the past simultaneously define its current identity as well as the one it’s trying to forget.

These dichotomies of the South seem to appear everywhere. Communities where inclusion is automatic (SEC football comes to mind) mixed with communities where inclusion is out of the question (actual communities of living come to mind). Simple, common pleasures mixed with complex systems of oppression. Conflicting standards of freedom, expression, and progress throughout the region. The two defining music genres of the South - country and hip-hop - often seem mutually exclusive (though a closer look shows shared themes and similar storytelling). Southern hospitality should have no exceptions, but it often is extended to a smaller circle than many folks are willing to admit.

The layers of The South surely bleed into every Southerner’s ethics, way of life, and sense of self. From the outset, one mission of the podcast was to digest what it was to be a half-Chinese kid from rural SEGA who now lives in Los Angeles, CA. Does that make me less Southern, or does my unconditional love of where I’m from - despite hating certain elements of the past - and quest to understand and process the terrible with the great empower me to speak as a true Georgia Boy? Lee and I explore these ideas and try to trace our perspective through our hometown, high school, and families.

-Scotty

*Lee and Pauline visited the following (in chronological order):

USA, Canada, Aruba, Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, South Africa, Swaziland, Lesotho, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania, Uganda, Egypt, Malta, Tunisia, Morocco, Spain, United Kingdom, France, India, Vietnam, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, and China

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In this Episode, the following are referenced or recommended:

Lee (on instagram) and rustxgold (do yourself a favor and check out the blog and instagram)

Bill Murray crashes a bachelor party dinner and gives a toast (YouTube)

Southern Rites (Documentary on HBO; Photography at New York Times)

The Katrina Class (Garden & Gun)

A Photographer’s Adventures in The Dirty South (Bitter Southerner)

The Case for Reparations (Part IV) by Ta-Nehisi Coates (The Atlantic)

America Needs Y’all (The Atlantic)

The Politics of Polite (New York Times)

Lucky Peach Boy (Wikipedia)

Lee recommends:

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho (Amazon)

*Corrections and Retractions/Spoiler Alert: Lee named 26 countries in 30 seconds.