A final "Hubba, Doc!" - for FAMU's Dr. William P. Foster, 1919-2010

A recent and unseasonably cool August day found yours truly in Bed, Bath & Beyond and catching not just a sale, but glimpses of a lost memory. Nervous moms with teens in tow traipsing the aisles, plucking items to make the transition from bedroom to dorm room comfy and less traumatic. Sale signs announcing the best deals on bean bags, sheets and, of course, the ubiquitous foot locker – standard requirement at one time for incoming freshmen at Florida A&M University.


Since I’m no longer mistaken for one of those freshly-minted college-bounds, nostalgia rose watching the scene, remembering the role I played with my mother as we prepped for my journey to Tallahassee. There was eagerness and anxiousness about discovery.

During my time at FAMU, two figures were seminal. One was our brilliant and gregarious president Dr. Fred Humphries. Standing a good 6’6, possessing advanced degrees in chemistry and a voice that could be mistaken for God’s – even when sounding tipsy at football games – he made a quick impression on the hordes of us who scurried across campus, in search of knowledge and keys to brighter worlds.

The other was smaller in physical stature, but not so in presence, and that was Dr. William P. Foster.

For most colleges of note, football tends to be the celebrated focal point for students and alumni alike. At FAMU, it’s all about the Marching 100, the band that has performed before audiences at home and abroad to dropped jaws and deafening roars with each show. From college classics to TV commercials to Super Bowls to America’s representatives at the 200th anniversary of Bastille Day in Paris, the band has been there, done that. President Obama was just the latest graced with an Inauguration Day presence.

I used to wonder why people who knew me for years had started asking what instrument I played when I told them of my college decision. When I landed on the Hill, I understood. Without a hint of humility, longtime game announcer Joe Bullard would affirm fans and put visitors on notice, “The Marching 100. Often imitated, never duplicated. Like Coke, it’s the real thing.”

The band’s precision twists, twirls and splits make for eye candy – and unparalleled grace through fitness. Ask any member of the band about the ability to hold a “90” and an instrument for extended periods. But as stunning as the choreography tends to be, that it is twinned with outstanding musicianship and rigor in performance propelled FAMU’s name to added heights.

All of that was borne from Foster.

There was a reason he was known as “The Law.” There had been a musical team before his arrival. Foster made the “100.” He revolutionized the college marching band, and his 1968 manual became the bible for baton wielders nationwide. High school students – and their band directors – clawed at the chance to learn from him during summer camps and workshops. Band bystanders would wander down to the hollowed practice grounds known as the Patch and watch that motley crew of players rehearse every step and chord.

But when Foster ambled up his step ladder, the effort went stratospheric. He demanded perfection. Every time. And if it didn’t sound right, if it didn’t look right, he demanded it again. And again. And again. The results were evident.

To be a member of his band meant to be dedicated, gifted – but not necessarily black, or male. If you could deliver on his demands, you were in. His vision never wavered. The focus was sound and fury, from 1946 when he arrived until 1998 when he retired his wand. No “sparkle girls.” No distractions.

Early in my reporting days, as a FAMUAN staffer, I once tracked down stories of hazing within the band. The actions grieved him. Foster insisted on discipline, but said he abhorred the rituals that came to light. He found talent without character distasteful, as much as showmanship without substance.

When Drumline was in production, it was known that while modeled off band heritage like that of the "100," FAMU would not participate. It was not going to pull that many students from their studies for that length of time – to lose to a fictional college. Rattler Nation wouldn’t have it. Neither would Foster.

Being there as he wound down his conducting days was an added treat to the FAMU experience, like watching living history. You could see the reverence his band had for him, appreciate how the music department he dominated cultivated artists ranging from Nat and Julian “Cannonball” Adderly to Wycliffe Gordon. Countless smiles would pour from the band room when he closed out the final home rehearsals with one phrase and praise: “I think the ‘100’ is ready.”

You never had to march in the band to feel the pride that swelled in your heart with every show. You didn’t have to fret if the football team was getting clobbered on the field. As a Rattler, you just hold your breath and wait for the hundreds of young men and women in green suits, orange capes and white hats to wind onto the field. Then, it's lights, camera, action. The performance of a lifetime. Every time.

It was the joy of fall at FAM. It was a gift bequeathed by Doc Foster -- a legacy to treasure for generations to come.

Keeping anti-Islamic irrationalism in check

It’s not uncommon in my neighborhood to see a woman draped in black, from head to toe, with all but her eyes revealed. My aunt jokingly dubbed such women “spooky Muslims,” because in some cases they do, in fact, appear to be dark apparitions, floating – sometimes wobbling – down the street, usually with a child in tow, sometimes a few feet behind a man. And he may have on flood pants under a dress-length tunic, with a scraggly beard and a kufi on his head.

Her comment may seem insensitive until you consider that my aunt is a faithful, practicing Muslim, one who has raised her children in the faith. In fact, in the United States, blacks make up about a third of the nation’s Muslims by conservative estimates – and scores of females in that mix do not accept the spooky garb as uniform.

One person’s Islam is driven by sincere belief in instruction from God; another’s, by man’s sincere lust for power. Too often, the street-level interpretation seems to be more about propelling a man to a position of authority – understandable given the damaged psyches of some who adopt it after a prison bid or some other quest for grounding – than about God and peace in the world. I have yet to find in the Qu’aran a misery test for women to prove faithfulness. Yet, that often seems to be the order of the day among the spooky set. Especially given this sweltering heat.

And if black people still cast wary eyes toward loved ones in the faith, what’s to be expected of the majority of the country whose introduction consisted largely of deranged men claiming Allah while bent on a path of destruction one sunny September day?

It’s a question that has been swirling around my mind since the latest outbreak of anti-Islam fever has broken out nationwide, sparked by the concept of building a mosque and Islamic gathering center near the site of the former World Trade Center, hallowed ground in the United States since the 9/11 terrorist attacks of 2001.

There were people of all colors, ethnicities, and faiths murdered that day – including Muslims. Those facts often are glossed over in the anti-Islam hysteria, one fanned, sadly, by opportunists within the GOP. Some perspective, though.

It’s doubtful many would howl about placing a Mennonite Church near the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum, where the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was felled. Yet that faith spawned a pastor, Robert G. Millar, who went left and began espousing unadulterated hatred and whose doctrine took disciple Timothy McVeigh to new heights of infamy.

Likewise, eyebrows would arch at the thought of shuttering celebrations of Mass at any of the 22 Roman Catholic parishes in Birmingham just because that faith was the grounding for the Rev. Donald Spitz. He’s the brain trust and spiritual guide of the Army of God, whose anti-abortion tear in that town, and across the country, has claimed the lives of medical professionals. Spitz also has inspired followers like Eric Robert Rudolph, whose crimes include bombing the 1996 Olympic Games in Atlanta.

No one blamed these religions for these twisted interpretations. Yet, scores stand ready to scorn all of Islam and its adherents due to the inflamed madness of a few.

“I do believe everybody has a right to freedom of religion,” Diana Sarafin told The New York Times. “But Islam is not about a religion. It’s a political government, and it’s 100 percent against our Constitution.”

Uh, no. That’s not what the Qu’aran is about, any more than a demand for spooky Muslims. Or any more than the Torah or the Bible.

Part of America’s irrational fear of “Islamo-terrorism” comes from the blatant ignorance about what Islam is – and isn’t. In that vein, a center dedicated to education and understanding – what has been proposed for the Cordoba House at 45-47 Park Place – is an apt prescription.

Muslims – simply meaning one who submits to God in Arabic – have as many different cultural codes they follow as part of their faith as do any Christian. What usually remains consistent is that peace is premier in Islam, much like most world religions. How one manages to achieve that tends to be the area of consternation, and the ground ripest for pollution. No one faith has cornered the market on sinners or saints – something we’d all do well to remember.

A recent hit by your friendly-neighborhood browngirl

So sorry. Been caught up so that I neglected to post this little nugget from yours truly that posted on BlackAmericaWeb.com regarding President Obama's birthday, our Leo-in-Chief.


It's cool to take a break from the ultra-serious to having a little fun here and again. But I think I'd like to report live from the 50th birthday party shin-dig.

Here's hoping that the president had a great birthday! Did you join the lift-his-spirits campaign and wear any Obama '08 gear to help celebrate?

South Carolina, not Bollywood, offers a new Indian star

Photo credit: Brett Flashnick/AP

South Carolina politics long have been considered a cess pool that could rival Chicago or Louisiana in terms of dirty tricks. A skim of recent juicier national highlights range from accusations in 2000 that then-presidential candidate Sen. John McCain fathered his adoptive Asian daughter out of wedlock (saying she was instead the product of a black prostitute) to rumors just a few weeks back that not one, but two, men claimed to have had affairs with state Rep. Nikki Haley.

Yet, even against this backdrop Haley – a historic figure in many ways – succeeded this week in her quest to secure the GOP nomination for the governor's mansion after a contentious run-off, beating her opponent like he stole something.

There’s a broader context to place this story, one that received some considerable hype beforehand, but whose culmination was lost amid the McChrystal flap.

One, she’s a woman, and this country, while advancing, has yet to elect women to office in proportions equal to their population. You don’t have to be a woman to represent one, but having actual experience with things sometimes beats plain empathy. Ask any woman who pops Midol or who has birthed a baby.

Of the governors serving the nation and its territories, just a half dozen are female – Jan Brewer of Arizona, Jodi Rell of Connecticut, Linda Lingle of Hawaii, Bev Purdue of North Carolina, Jennifer Granholm of Michigan and Chris Gregoire of Washington. In fact, Haley would break the tie and add the fourth female Republican governor to the mix, should she be successful, and odds are good that she’ll take the win.

Two, she’s young. Even among her would-be female colleagues, she’d be the only under-50 member. At 38, she’d bring a perspective shaped not by Baby Boomers and their incessant culture wars, but that of the Sesame Street Generation, with a global twist.

Three, she’s not white. Repeat: she’s not white. In South Carolina.

In the whole of the south, there have been two nonwhites elected governor since Reconstruction, the first being Virginia’s L. Douglas Wilder in 1989. With the whole entrepreneurial, up-by-the-bootstraps story Republicans love to tout, expect every effort to catapult her to the top of the media heap upon securing the governor’s mansion. Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal’s star dimmed after his disastrous delivery of the GOP response to the president’s early 2009 address to a joint session of Congress. Former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin alienated as many as she galvanized during her run as the GOP’s 2008 vice president candidate, reveling in winks and wiles during public presentations . Haley represents the best bet for GOP boosters who have been crossing their fingers for a Great Brown Hope to counter the Man of Hope and Change.

Haley is far from a Repuba-liberal. Her platform is run-of-the-mill GOP: fiscal conservative, anti-abortion, pro-gun, anti-Obama-led healthcare reform. But she’s also pushing more statehouse transparency. Her stance on immigration (no undocumented folks desired) is tempered by a sober view that since industry plays a role, it should also share in the pain and punishment, not just the people scrapping for a better way of life.

Her conservative bonafides won her Tea Party allegiance, for better or worse. That she has the backing of Palin and FreedomWorks also may raise eyebrows. Where she’d wind up on the partisan spectrum upon entering office is yet to be revealed.

Some have hailed Jindal and now Haley for not focusing on “identity” politics, but instead furthering “conservative” values. Of course, that has never stopped even fellow “conservatives” from injecting “identity” politics in the mix. If elected governor, it’ll be interesting how she’d work with fellow Republican, state Sen. Jake Knotts, who referred to the would-be governor as a “raghead” – not to mention fend off additional rumors, slights and slurs from her own party due to her difference.

Just as interesting is whether in office she’d simply smile and present a you’re-so-Anglo-I’m-so-Anglo front or if this daughter of immigrants will speak honestly about what it means to rise above the taunts and obstacles hurled her way, just because. She says she’s focusing beyond points of gender or ethnicity, but it hasn’t stopped the former underdog from using them to her advantage.

She may be a woman. She may be Indian-American. But it’s clear she’s a politician with chops. 

Stan’s so not the man, facing the can

Four-star general displayed plebe-level judgment
in openly criticizing Afghan war plan and planners

Given that the Obama Administration had already given Gen. Stanley McChrystal a pass previously – actually, two – for being “outspoken,” the only defense he could possibly offer the president when he comes into the Oval Office to meet with him tomorrow and explains his comments in the July 8 issue of Rolling Stone is insanity. From heat stroke, induced by the Afghan sands.

Yeah, that’s it.

Or just end the madness and offer his resignation. You can only beef at your boss but for so long before you meet the tail end of a door knob.

The scathing assessments of civilian handling of the war in Afghanistan – the war Obama installed him to oversee, despite a cloudy past – provides a contemptuous view of this White House by both the man and his empowered staff. Why his press aide Duncan Boothby didn’t pull the plug as this story was unwinding is still not explained, which may be why said aide resigned.

That McChrystal ran his mouth – and even more so, allowed his inner circle to blab off the cuff – is fairly surprising, even for a guy known to thumb his nose at authority. After all, military life is the ultimate homage to authority, and McChrystal is neither a newbie nor a dummy in this arena.

Including his West Point tenure, he’s closing in on 40 years in the service. He has a bachelor’s, two master’s, and studied at both Harvard and the Council on Foreign Relations. And he’s been hailed as brilliant.

So what gives with the general’s sudden diarrhea of the mouth? I’m sure the president is eager to find out.

There have been arguments to can McChrystal for his ultimate dis job, as well as arguments to keep him, particularly since Obama already has replaced on general on the Afghan front.

Of course, the big winner in all of this is Rolling Stone magazine. Long known as an upstart in the world of “serious” journalism, the magazine had lost some of that luster in recent years. Modern hipsters saw it as "so ‘90s." This scoop – an opportunity of time and place – not only left competitors from erstwhile publications such as Time, Newsweek, The New Republic and the National Review in the dust, it also pushed its name to the fore of headlines worldwide. Take that, Financial Times! A half-naked Lady Gaga and a half-embittered four-star general in the same issue! Anybody else hear registers going ca-ching?!

Article author Michael Hastings for one can’t be saddened by the firestorm his piece has wrought. Far from a fan of the war (he chronicled his emotions after his fiancée, an aid worker, was killed in Iraq), he’s also far from a newbie. He took full advantage of the access he was granted to McChrystal – and the result no doubt will wind up as a case study for public relations management courses for years to come. After all, Hastings, a former Newsweek staffer and a GQ contributor, wrote the piece in classic Rolling Stone style – brash, pointed and salacious, complete with all curse words possible for extra emphasis.

All the wrong light for any PR professional worth the salt. And just more salt in open lashes this administration is taking from every direction and corner of the world, at home and abroad. Pick a crisis and multiply it. Welcome to 2008 Hope and Change colliding with 2010 Obstinateness and Reality.

Then again, BP might end up being the secret winner. Surely Tony Hayward and his BP brethren are breathing a sigh of relief to be out of the public flogging circle, if only for a moment. More than likely, it’ll be a brief one, with U.S. District Judge Martin Feldman reversing the Obama Administration’s issued six-month ban on deep-water drilling, calling it “overbearing.”

Never mind the deep goop that continues to strangle the ecosystems of the Gulf of Mexico due to the Deepwater Horizon oil spill on April 20. For now, Washington’s eyes are fixed on the deep goop that McChrystal finds himself.

Wondering your view. This browngirl, for sure, will be staying tuned.