New Year, New Decade

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Here's a moving self portrait of how I'm setting myself up nicely for the #newyear. "Legend has it that #collardgreens and #blackeyedpeas are said to represent a prosperous new year, with the #greens symbolizing #cash and peas #coins. American currency, however, is nothing like the dark green hue of cooked #collards and at no point have we used puny, white pea-sized balls as change. While some may still eat collards and #peas for this reason to ring in the new year, the tradition dates hundreds of years back in American history and even further back across the Atlantic." For more -- @mic: Collard greens and black eyed peas: The history of why we eat them on New Year's https://www.mic.com/articles/163513/collard-greens-and-black-eyed-peas-the-history-of-why-we-eat-them-on-new-year-s > #foodporn #yummo #foodpornography #foodporno #letseat #instagram #insta #websta #webstagram #newyorkcity #nyc #harlem

A post shared by Queen Esther (@thisisqueenesther) on Jan 1, 2020 at 11:12am PST

Happy New Year!

I slid sideways into the new year, starting on New Year's Eve Eve when I sang at Lincoln Center to a packed house (with a line out the door, down the street and around the corner!) with the JC Hopkins Biggish Band.

Here we are at a well-attended soundcheck in the Lincoln Center Atrium.

From there, I sprinted downtown to The DL for The Salon's annual New Year's Eve Eve fete. (That was a sold-out situation -- three floors, over 50 performers, two orchestras, lots of burlesque. Crazy.) 
Thankfully, I left after my set so I could sing my heart out at Minton's (which was filled to capacity) with the Biggish the following night.  The band was all the way live.  Truth be told, the party we were having onstage was as hot if not hotter than the party in the room -- or next door at The Cecil, which had its own boogie down going with The Kennedy Administration and their New Year's Eve party, Forgive and Forget. Somewhere in there, Jazzmeia Horn gave birth to a baby girl -- after 40 hours of labor.  (WOW!!!) 

Needless to day, I slept until I could sleep no more. After a long movie with MPB (The Hobbit), a long walk and some righteous, incredibly unpedestrian Chinese food, I felt recalibrated.  I'm shifting my life around in bold ways, shaking new ideas loose and reconfiguring my goals and priorities for the year in weekly/monthly increments. Its easy to get lost in all of the pop and verve in my head if everything is all over the place.

I'm going to start this year by breaking some bad habits and creating new ones. Once upon a time, scientists believed that it took 21 days to create a good habit. As it turns out, it can take anywhere from 2 to 8 months.  A habit takes time to stick and how long that takes depends on the individual, amongst other things.  Commit to the process will have to be my mantra.

The first thing on tomorrow's agenda? Running shoes.

Winter Bucket List 2013 -- The Harlem Edition (Kwanzaa, Kwanzaa, Kwanzaa!)

Comedy Central

None of the winter bucket lists I see online ever resemble mine. Not that I wouldn't want to go on a carriage ride or make gingerbread houses. That sounds cute but I'm way more likely to be found staying up all night making Kwanzaa presents or sipping my specialty Mexican hot chocolate at a black folk pot luck.

There's no getting away from Christmas once it explodes sometime in the fall (!!!) but the truth is, Kwanzaa has nothing to do with Christmas, it's not religious and it's not an anti-white people holiday alternative. Like a lot of things black folks do, Kwanzaa is something that we do for our selves -- to unite us, to honor our past as African-Americans, our collective history and our ancestors, and to reconnect with our purpose, as individuals and as a community. If white people are down with that and want to participate, hooray. There's always plenty of culture to go around. If not, oh well. It's really not about them.

Kwanzaa is much more fun than Christmas -- and for me, it's very personal. You have to make the gifts you give -- something that stymies a lot of people I know, until they realize that the gift doesn't have to be tangible.  The day you give the gift can infuse it with even more significance. If you're not craftsy, educational gifts are encouraged.  The Kwanzaa gifts I have given are pretty out there, I suppose.  You give what you have. You give who you are. I have been a pretty good wingman, agony aunt and third wheel in times past. I've given a voice lesson and a performance clinic here and there.  Once I even taught a friend how to smother a chicken.  And my pound cakes -- as well as my tomato pies -- are kind of legendary.

There are hard and fast rules but I don't live and die by them. I make them my own. Will you light Kwanzaa beeswax candles? Maybe.  Truth is, my libation ceremony will probably be cocktails with a few sisters at a speakeasy.

Lemmie put it to you this way. Christmas means running around in malls and bouncing around online and buying presents -- and if you run out of ideas or time or patience, Christmas means sending gift cards or cash money. You must send something. Kwanzaa means giving someone something very personal, something that you make with your own hands, something from you that will hopefully resonate with them in some way. You must give of yourself.

Here's a winter bucket list that may look a lot like yours.

1. Get a wreath for your door -- or better yet (in the spirit of Kwanzaa),  make two and give one to a friend. 
2. If you haven't already, it's probably a good idea to start assembling your Kwanzaa presents. (Un)fortunately, (most of) the things I make are edible. This year, I'm getting especially craftsy for a select few. (Finally!)  Otherwise, I'm locked in my kitchen for beef stew (Evan), smothered pork chops (Jane), several quarts of Mexican hot chocolate (you know who you are) and -- of course -- pound cake.
3. Wait until that (Southern) ATL visit and go sit on Black Santa's lap at Greenbriar Mall. You know that's my story.  Black Santa, baby. (More on that here.)
4. You wanna watch a holiday movie? Forget Elf. Watch Bad Santa with a bunch of black folk -- unedited, of course.  You'll laugh so hard, you'll scream.
5. Go to The Apollo Theater's Kwanzaa Celebration: Regeneration Night on Friday, December 27th.
6. Go to American Museum of Natural History's Kwanzaa 2013: 35th Anniversary Celebration on Saturday, December 28th.
7. The dance company Batoto Yetu will celebrate the seven principles of Kwanzaa with movement and festivities at Aaron Davis Hall on Saturday, December 28th.
8. From December 26 - 28, The African Burial Ground has a pretty spectacular Kwanzaa celebration -- the 10th Anniversary Observance of the Rites of Ancestral Return -- that includes short film, visual art, live music and performances that run the gamut from spoken word to The Black Nutcracker. And yes -- all of it is free and open to the public but reservations are required.
9. The Studio Museum in Harlem has Hands On Kwanzaa Celebration -- art making activities and an interactive performance program for kids -- on Target Free Sunday, December 29th.
10. Skip the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, the tourists and the rest of the amateurs and celebrate New Year's Eve Eve instead of New Year's Eve.  (That way, you can enjoy First Night and still have fun with revelers. More on that here.) You can catch me and my jazz quintet The Hot Five at The Player's Club in Grammercy Park on Monday, December 30th for The Salon's annual fete and December 31st for The Player's Club and their New Year's Eve gala.

i can see the trees and the forest

i really wanted to come up with some pithy and interesting new year's eve resolutions but somewhere in the wide open calm of the last day of the year, as i made a mad dash for cough medicine and prosecco, i realized that the velocity of living my life on purpose was propelling everything forward with a momentum that was finally beginning to keep pace with the life i've always wanted. the thing is, the life i've always wanted is the life i have and have had for quite some time.

i'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere in there, i woke up and realized that i'm living that life -- action-packed, highly physical, explosively creative, and fun, fun, fun. was it years ago when i had this epiphany? was it last week? was it new year's eve? i'm not sure. there are moments when i have to be reminded in this really deliberate way of how blissfully fortunate i am, that i get to live in new york city with my beautiful permanent boyfriend and make cool art. it's only a moment, like middle school or summers with my great-grandparents. and like all of those moments, it feels like it's going to last forever but it went by in a flash. and in my mind, it's a snapshot of a memory. and then it's gone.

how long will this moment last? and won't the horrible things that will surely come after and intermingle with my joy make all of this sweeter, somehow?

everybody wants to get out of debt and stop smoking and lose weight. but where's the joy? where's the moment when you stop and give thanks to be alive and take in the moment you have before you, in complete gratitude and humility, just because, even though you chain smoke and you love pie? everyone is in the forest and no one can see the trees.

well. i can see the trees. and i have every intention of continuing to wander through the forest and live in the moment and take it all in, all the fun and joy and goodness i can possibly stand, and letting the rest fall to the wayside.

i remember when i did the artist's way and found myself wandering down some sun-drenched avenue on the west side in new york city, eating blackberries and licking the juice from my fingers, singing melodies to myself and stopping every so often to jot down bits and pieces of lyrics that would fall into my head haphazardly. i didn't have a conventional job. i was up to my elbows in debt. my body wasn't where i wanted it to be. but i was so happy, i practically skipped down the street.

what happened? i decided that i was going to be happy. and that was that.

real talk? whatever's going on in your life, there's someone out there that would trade places with you in an instant -- no matter how bad you think things are. i figure i may as well be happy. most of what's eating away at me is nothing that has anything to do with me, anyway -- and even if it did, how is worrying going to solve anything?

maybe those are my resolutions -- to stay happy, to stay grateful, to see the trees as i make my way through the forest.

watch night and freedom eve

i can't ever remember not going to church on new year's eve when i lived down south. even now as a southern stranger in a northern strange land, it feels more than just a little odd when i don't make my way home to pray through the new year, surrounded by loved ones. the church that i attend doesn't have a new year's eve service, probably because of its proximity to times square. i would go to black churches that i knew of in brooklyn or queens or even harlem but once i settled into the ghetto, my big brothers made it plain that i was never to leave the house on certain nights of the year -- and after awhile, what they insisted upon became one of my city rules to live by, because it made a lot of sense. new year's eve was definitely one of those nights.

i spent this new year's eve with my friend and Grandma the Clown at Big Apple Circus (sooooo fun!) but waking up on new year's day and hearing the news reports of how many people got murdered in the tri-state area the night before was sobering enough to fill me with even more "stay home on new year's eve" resolve than ever -- at least, while i'm up here. i don't care how clean and safe they say new york city is. i don't care if they do turn times square into disneyland. i don't care how low the murder and crime rates drop, or how comfortable they make this place. it's still new york city. praying through the new year was something i did when i went home.

i didn't know that this tradition had a name. it was simply something that our entire family had always done, ever since anyone could remember.

so imagine my surprise when my friend shows me an article in the New York Times about the history of this african-american time-honored tradition, and why it resonates so deeply for so many of us black folk this year. although he is white with southern roots on his father's side of his family, he grew up in new jersey and had never heard of anyone going to church and praying through new year's eve until i suggested it.

it's important to note that according to bartelby.com, the definition of watch night is "a religious service held on new year's eve" and that there are many churches in this country who have services on this night. in fact, it was john wesley, founder of the methodist church, who started watch night services in america. and he got it from the moravians -- a small christian sect from the czech republic (bohemia, actually) that held the very first watch night in germany, 1733. the idea was to pray that God watches over everyone's souls into the new year. however -- that long wait in 1862 by so many for word from abraham lincoln on the last day of the year to confirm that he had emancipated millions of slaves all over the country gave watch night an entirely different meaning, one that black folks have embraced ever since.

here's an exerpt from the article in the Times:

Though barely known to most white Americans, Watch Night as observed in black churches holds a place among the highest holy days, surpassed only by Easter and Christmas. Originally an 18th-century Methodist addition to the calendar — and still observed in many Christian denominations — its special significance in the black religious tradition was cemented by its link to the New Year's Eve of 1862, when free blacks and abolitionists gathered to pray that President Abraham Lincoln would carry out his promise to sign the Emancipation Proclamation on Jan. 1, 1863.

to read more, click here.