Fanon Wilkins, Ph.D.

Fanon Che joined the planet when the 6 met 9 and the 7 saw its reflection in a pool of water wedged between concrete and opportunity in the City of Angels. When the screams dissipated and the boy was put on a scale, Pops, a 1965 Watts Rebellion alumnus, told the nurse that this one would be named Fanon Che-fah’show. Ms. Nurse asked Pha-who? and Pops reminded her that these were revolutionaries from Martinique and Argentina who grew restless in the face of imperialist domination and colonial exploitation. Six months after lil’ man hit the sand, Moms broke out to Cuba (VENCEREMOS!) to cut cane and increase her revolutionary resolve. Pops held it down, but when the smoke cleared, Pops and Moms agreed to split and lil’ man went South way before the ATL was full of Outkasts and the Good Died Mostly Over Bullsh@t. Now the Durdy had a lot going for it. Mom’s got her full Lenin on working at a shirt factory with the idea of organizing workers at the point of production. She even did a stint at the phone company climbing them tall ass poles and Standard Oil where she assisted in the mining and management of black gold. Meanwhile, bruh-man attended a liberation school where all of us lil’ freedom fighters chanted before each meal:  (Fist raised) “I WILL EAT ALL MY FOOD, TO GROW BIG AND STRONG, TO WORK IN THE STRUGGLE FOR AFRICAN PEOPLE”–Shonuff’. By second grade it was back to South Central, but by 8 the boy found himself up north in the East Bay riding dirt bikes and eating Lemonheads and Nowalaytas’ on the same streets that Huey, Bobby, and Elaine screamed All Power To The People. By 10 lil’ man was back with Moms in the Durdy and Pops moved to the Big Apple to help aspiring revolutionaries relocate to Tanzania to help build Ujamaa Socialism. When the time came to join Pops in Gotham, ya boy was more than a little scared of the city that never slept because Richard Pryor had told him that if a space ship landed in New York, a ni**&a would take his ship. But undeterred, ya boy found Kurtis Blow to be more inviting than menacing and Sugarhill Gang just brought a smile to his face. So back to South Central he went, telling tall tales about battles he had won and Emcees he had met while he and the fellaz pause-mixed Funkadelic basslines and imitated thier favorite New York Emcees. Now if there was ever a rolling stone, Pops was a restless boulder who thought that greener pastures could be found back in the Durdy. But thangs didn’t work as planned, so it was back to the 213 and somehow, with a little luck, wit, and parental direction (with the help of Moma Joyce), bruh-man managed to survive the infamous Los Angeles Police Department, the Bloods, the Crips, all of the Latino sets, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the Rapid Transit District (The Rough, Tough, and Dangerous) and the Crack scourge. So when Boogie Down Productions dropped Criminal Minded and Ray Charles told anti-apartheid activists to go to hell, ya boy entered the House only fit for a King and made it to the other side while Ice Cube poured out a lil’ something for his dead homies. Now we could end it here, but that would not be fair because somewhere along the way bruh-man actually began believing that he could obtain a Pee-H-Dee. Silly right, well the fool went for it and made a lot of bookies money. And guess what? When the 9 met the 7 and that same 9 saw its reflection in the dew drop that rolled to the tip of the lilly, bruh-man helped two babies into this world and named the girl child after the Brass Saint who wailed “A Love Supreme,” and took the boy’s name from the creolized lips of those who called the yard a “yaad” and said “Irie” when everythang was alright. So where is bruh-man you ask? Still on the move– living, writing and teaching at Doshisha University in Kyoto, Japan. Who knew? The Universe-fah’show:)