The Prototype...The Joy Of New Loves

Spring is here, and new love is in the air. The beginning stages of something new is always beautiful. I'm absolutely addicted to Andre 3000's "Prototype," because it speaks on this and has such a smooth vibe to it.

"I hope that you're the one....If not, you are the prototype. We'll tiptoe to the sun, and do thangs, I know you'd like. I think I'm in looooove again."
-"Prototype"- Andre 3000 from "The Love Below"

Let's all think back to the days when you first met that special someone, whether they are still present in your life or they've gone on with theirs. It's those moments walking holding hands through a park, laughing at randomness on the phone, the moments where you both realized that you felt the same way about each other- these moments make us want to fall in love again and again, even when we know that love doesn't always work out.

Many people close their hearts to the new experience, faulting past hurts and blaming previous relationships for the bitterness and skepticism they hold like concrete around their hearts. But by not realizing that people come into your life for a reason and a season and by focusing on WHAT WENT WRONG, they miss out on the times to smile at and new possibilities of smiling. Maybe he or she wasn't or isn't the one, but they could very well be the prototype of the one to come:

Pro·to·type 1 : an original model on which something is patterned.

This new prospect may just be "The One"...or they can lead you to the person you are meant to be with. They can show you the true you as well as give you an idea of what qualities you would want in"The One." This doesn't only relate to romantic relationships but friendships as well. Be open to new loves and people to love. It's okay to fall in love a few times; third, fourth, or eighth time is a charm. The risk is well worth it. Enjoy love in the here and now, and remember to say "stank you smelly much" to the person standing right in front of you now who's waiting to see if they could be that special friend to you.

(LISTEN TO "PROTOTYPE" BY CLICKING ON THE VIDEO BELOW)

My Trip To Atlanta (Highlights) - PART TWO

Hey y'all! I'm fittin' ta give y'all the highlights of my recent trip to tha A!!!! Atlanta, GA. It included shows, a conference, and hanging with my lovely sister Michelle, my mom, grandma, and my grand father. Here are the highlights.

PART TWO

Had a great feature on www.blogtalkradio.com/newd. We spoke and joked about female esteem in the arts & media as well as general relationship issues, featuring a live performance by yours truly. Check it out:
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/newd/2009/03/22/NEWDradio-Black-American-Repatriation-to-South-Africa

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While dining with my sister, I remembered how much I love strawberry cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory. I know, I'm supposed to be loyal to Juniors but...

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Went to a Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc Crossing Party at some club. No, friends, I didn't bag anyone or get any numbers. (I think my brain is starting to be preoccupied with someone else, but that's another story that I'm keeping to myself...)

One thing I love about the South- while I'm a pretty good dancer in New York, I'm like "The Dancehall Queen" everywhere else! When reggae comes on, I'm one of the few that can do all the dances. Kinda makes you feel extraordinary.

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I just love Super Wal-Mart. I went there pretty much every day.

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My sister took me to this rather hood club called Esso. I thought I was in Brooklyn for two seconds. We were there at 10:30pm because it was free before 11:30. However, they didn't let people in till 11:35. Trifiling.

While waiting on line, this girl walked by wearing a green, yellow, white, and black mixed print tank top...with matching print spandex pants. She looks like the old school 3-D puzzle with a hidden picture that you have to hold close to your face and pull away to see the picture. I wish I got a picture of her. I'm sure that in the club, no guy could holla at her; she looked like a blur.

Question: Why does the awkward, drunk White guy at the Black club always pick the biggest Black woman to jump behind and dance with?

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Went to Ten Pin Alley for my Soror Kristy's birthday party. Realized that after 10pm, no one's bowling...because it turns into a club! Chicks were rocking tight, short dresses; they had me feeling like I was wrong for being casual at the bowling alley. Kristy had a DOPE birthday cake! I didn't even want her to cut it.

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One morning, some lady, with a Hatian accent that even my Flatbush, Brooklynite-self couldn't decipher, calls me saying, "The guy u texted this morning lives with a woman. Keep that in mind." WTH? I texted two people that morning, so I was confused. One of them was my Phrat brother to wish him happy birthday, the other a childhood friend. When I asked her who she was talking about, she said, "I'm telling you this woman-to-woman. He doesn't live with his mom or family, he lives with a WOMAN. Keep that in mind." I think I get phonecalls like these waaaay too often.

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I used my mom's guest pass to go to the gym. LA Fitness isn't my Crunch, but it'll have to do. Lil Scrappy walked by me at the gym, getting his workout on while I'm on the elliptical machine. Man he has some bad teeth!

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I saw these at a shopping center. Yo, you can be so gansta that even your slippers are hood!

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I swear, it seems like the weather always gets amazingly beautiful the day you have to leave a place. I was very sad to leave Atlanta.

On the way to my gate, the airport security guard leaned over his podium, checked my ID, and said,"You're finer than a mutha****er." Really? When a guy curses in his compliment, is it still a compliment?

My Trip To Atlanta (Highlights) - PART ONE

Hey y'all! I'm fittin' ta give y'all the highlights of my recent trip to tha A!!!! Atlanta, GA. It included shows, a conference, and hanging with my lovely sister Michelle, my mom, grandma, and my grand father. Here are the highlights.

PART ONE

I got to meet my grandfather for the first time. He came down from Canada to visit all of us. He's one smooooooth dude.

My mom and Grandfather (he loves his shades)

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Man, my mom can cook!

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Finally saw Madea Goes to Jail. Why were Keisha Knight Pullam's teeth so straight and pearly white? It really bothered me that she can look all dirty and busted as a prostitute but still be fit for an Orbitz gum commercial.

While at the theater, I discussed my legal situation (which I promise to blog this week) with a cop that was on duty. I realized how much anger I am holding toward the justice system.


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I showcased at the Association for the Promotion of Campus Activities (APCA) National Conference. I did extremely well, and got a lot of great potential college bookings for 2009 on. (Looking to be added to the list? Hit me up at shanellegabriel@gmail.com)

A gentleman from the military who's stationed in Korea walked up to the booth I was at, opened my hand, and gave me a heavy, bronze medallion stating that it was for the positive message I'm sharing through my work. I almost cried.



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While attempting to park near a diner downtown, a random crackhead ran full speed from across the street, jumped behind my car, and whether I wanted him to or not, proceeded to direct me into the parking space. Between ticks and twitches his long arms would motion 'back up' and 'stop.'

I got out of the car, and amidst his babbling to himself, he walks up to me with a shriveled up flower he must have picked from the front of someone's house. I refuse to take it, stating, "No thank you. It doesn't match my outfit." (People that are "off" make me nervous.) He then asked for some money (for his thorough help with parking and the flower offer). I didn't have cash on me. He got mad and walked away. People keep saying, "That coulda been an angel." Well that angel should get an Oscar for playing a crackhead so well.


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I went to Old School Saturdays, a party that happens once a month, where the DJ plays nothing but the best in Hip Hop/R&B from 1980-2000. (Still bugging out because Lil' Kim is old school. That felt like it was yesterday!)


Me and my lovely sister



After we left, I was joking around singing "Stanky Leg" all loud; I looked out the car window and saw a man in a wheelchair with one leg. I felt bad cause he couldn't do the dance too.

[Look for Part 2 tomorrow]

In Atlanta...Examining My Grandparents

Just when I was ready to pull my hair in NYC, it was time for my trip to Atlanta, GA ! My grandfather came in from Toronto, Canada, I have to perform at the Association for the Promotion of Campus Activities Nationals, and I also have a show at The Urban Grind this week. Then, I'm stopping by Apache on Sunday to check my homegirl, Queen Sheba, out there. It's been great so far.

It's my first time meeting my grandfather on my biological mother's side. Honestly, I'm so used to seeing frail elderly grandfathers, that he shocked me. He was so alert, so talkative, and so down! He cracked jokes, talked about his younger years like it was yesterday, and even had an in depth discussion on sex ("Men need to know how to please their women.") Praise God I wasn't there for that. Lol.

I watched my grandmother, his first wife, interact with him. At the beginning, I heard she was mean towards him, making comments about how old he looked (as if she was a spring chicken) and a few others. Then she eased up, and seemed to get comfortable. Real comfortable...She started taking longer to get ready, making sure her hair was combed out, and a few other details that let the rest of us know she was trying to look her best for "someone." She'd sit and converse with him for most of the day. Imagine, they were divorced over 30 years ago, and she still has a little somethin' somethin' for him. We tend to think that older folks just deteriorate into asexual beings who no longer care about past issues and loves.

I wonder, will I be that type of older person who can still relate to my younger self? Will there be anyone that will always strike a chord with me? And will I remain the passionate person I am forever or will old age add bitterness to my spirit?

Who we are now affects who we will be later. Our values, actions, and responses shape the way we lead the rest of our lives. If we are holding on to something now, we will cling to it for dear life later, whether it's love, anger, regret, joy, sorrow. What are you going to be like when you're in your rocking chair on your front porch?
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

BIG is NOT the Greatest Rapper of All Time (Brooklyn, don't hate me for saying this)

When did I first fall in love with Hip Hop?

I came to love Hip Hop and R&B in the 90s. (Don't worry, I made up for lost time and went back to the classics.) Growing up in Brooklyn, you were blessed with a certain swagger, street sense, and an appreciation for the gritty, rough tales told to you over hardcore beats. I fell in love with wordplay, had a crush on fruity looped beats, and lusted after the raw rhythmic flow that bum-rushed my ear drums whenever the radio turned on. I listened to WBLS 98.7 KISS FM (back when it played Rap music) and Hot 97 was my joint too. I remember making cassette mixtapes from recording off the radio. I'd pause and play songs as I wrote down lyrics in my notebook. One moment will always stand out to me:

I was trying to learn the blazing remix to Craig Mack's "Flava in Your Ear." The Notorious BIG was up first. I usually just wrote what I heard without thinking about it, but for some reason, I really looked at his verse.

"You're mad cause my style you're admiring/ Don't be mad, UPS is hiring...Not from Houston, but I Rap-A-Lot."


I paused the tape. "Wait, Rap-A-Lot Records is in Houston, Texas...OHHHHHH!!! That was dope!!!!" That was when I learned what being a lyricist was. I will give Biggie credit for that. Prior to hearing that verse, it was all beats and repeating what sounded good. That song, that verse caused the switch in my brain to click, and I saw the art in making metaphors and similes paint pictures in minds. Biggie was known for his gift at telling stories, and maybe that's part of why it's such a big part of me as an artist. I respect his truth, his honesty, and his title as one of the greatest Hip Hop artists in history.

I cannot say that I respect his honesty without being honest myself. As the human radio, I learned everything I deemed hot growing up, including most of "Life After Death" and tracks from "Ready 2 Die." My mental library contains other songs such as "Kick in the Door" as well as songs like Lil' Kim's "Big Momma Thang," "Put It in Yo Mouth" by Akinyele. There are many other songs as a Christian and a female, I should be ashamed to say I know. But ignorance does have its place, and so does entertainment. I know how to differentiate good from entertaining. So I take this time out to be disloyal to the Brooklyn blood that runs through my veins and say that in my opinion, BIG was NOT the greatest rapper of all time.

I say this for the same reason I say that Usher is not THE greatest dancer of all time. I can differentiate between extreme talent and being the best. In dancing, Michael Jackson and James Brown left a legacy of a different type of creativity. One that made people want to get better. One that made dancers want to transcend from being chitterling circuit superstars and move people everywhere- for the right reasons. While I love "Juicy" and "Sky's the Limit," I hear tracks like "Dead Wrong," and lines other lines like "Big Poppa never softening/ take you to the church/ rob the preacher of the offering/ leave a f***er coughing up blood." I as mentioned before, "Kick in the door/ waving the 4-4./ All ya heard was 'Poppa don't hit me no more.'" I can't deny the misogyny and violence that littered so much of his music.

Yes, I believe in telling your own story. Yes, I am all for freedom of expression, but if you are ignoring the part where you grow from what you used to be, I can't give you that title. There is more to being a lyricist than just wit. There is growth. There is an awareness of the world around them that doesn't spawn more of what oppressed them in the first place. Maybe he wasn't given the chance to grow, but I cannot ignore the monotony of negativity. I mean, even Mrs. Wallace has stated that she feels bad that she can't listen to her deceased son's music.

I do give props and praise for being creative with the art of creating a song. I think of Ludacris' "Ho" and the fast-tongued "Twisted Heat" by Drag-On and Twista. A unique attack and perspective in a song can make you look past compromising lyrics. "Notorious Thugs," "10 Crack Commandments," and "Dreams" were terribly dope songs. However, the title of greatest should go to someone who I believe best represents the art of rapping, and wields the power of their words with diligence and with honor. Decades from now, when someone asks, who holds the title of the Greatest Rapper of all time, I hope to be able to point them to someone without a preface or an apology. So as we honor BIG's memory, let's remember him as someone who fell before they could become the rapper that they could have been. Do not make the deceased appear a saint. He was not one. Still, his undeniable, "Unbelievable" talent is greatly missed. I sincerely wish he could be a part of Hip Hop in 2009.

Rest in Peace
Christopher Wallace aka The Notorious B.I.G.

Young girl gets abused by cops in jail cell...

I'm trying not 2 generalize & hate all cops, but this girl getting beat inside a cell is crazy:

Shanelle's Live Performance of "I Feel Like Going On" at The Nuyorican Poets Cafe

Thanks to Sarah for sending me this. This was on Jan 9th at the Semi-final Poetry Slam at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York City.

No Babies for Me...

...at least no time soon. I was browsing the net, and stumbled on the old story of 17 teen girls in a high school who made a pact to get pregnant...I heard the story on the news and tried to recall anything of this nature going on at the High School of Telecommunication Arts and Technology in Brooklyn, NY, where I graduated from. Um, nope, no recollection of anyone actually WANTING to get pregnant. It happened, but it wasn't on purpose. The idea of getting "knocked up" led to the fear of getting knocked out by our mothers, so a missed period wasn't a desirable outcome.

With all the advances in contraceptives, morning after pills, and condoms in schools, the teen pregnancy rate is crazy high. I recently had to explain to a 17 year-old girl reasons why she and her boyfriend should wait to have a baby, even though to me the simple fact that she's 17 was enough to me. Reasons such as "I think I'm ready," "I want that unconditional love that a baby can give," "I'm great with kids," and "I don't want to be an old mother," are not valid enough to lead to procreation.

What is misunderstood in this day and age is that parenting is difficult regardless of how easy your mom and dad and TV make it look. Babies are not dolls that you can show off, play with, then put them on a shelf when you're tired. They are sooo cute when you see them in someone's stroller- that cuteness ends when they've got you up at 3am just because they want to be rocked or when they're throwing tantrums during the "Terrible Twos". Or when you see that a can of baby formula is $15 and lasts three days, that a bag of diapers is $20 and lasts less than a week, and that just as quick as you bought that cute $20 outfit for the baby, he or she will outgrow it twice as fast. Or when you're stuck home because you can't find a babysitter while all your friends are headed to the nearest club/concert/hangout spot/diner. When you can't go on that study abroad trip to Japan during your college years because children aren't included in the price.

Children don't just come with love, they also come with responsibility. The interesting thing is that the "unconditional love" that these teens think kids bring is really one-sided for the most part of the child's life. YOU have to love him or her unconditionally, not necessarily visa versa. That baby is more concerned with having its needs met than how affectionate and loving it needs to be to its parents. (Wait till that bundle of joy is a teenager- that's when they may be convinced they hate you.)

I love children. My maternal instincts are impeccable, and I have been taking care of kids since I was one. I deeply congratulate all of my friends who are recent or soon-to-be parents: Kimberly E., Dave Judah, Chrissy, Dawn, and my friends who've been doing their mommy and daddy thang for a while (Monique, Serge, Kofi, Dorian, Shem, Kevon, Milton, and the LOOOOONG list of others). I sometimes envy the precious gift that you hold in your arms. I watch them grow and I am amazed. I can only imagine the pride you feel in knowing that you had some part in the creation of such a beautiful gift of life. HOWEVER, I have no problem living vicariously through you all till I have my own, till I am READY financially and mentally with a partner (meaning husband) and a place for us to all live. To quote my friend Marlon, "I'm not bringing a child into the world to struggle".

Lord knows, I'm not ready to decide between shoes and diapers, between a West Coast tour and a big purple dinosaur. The quicker we rush life, the sooner it ends.

I pray that I don't ever have to eat these words, but they are definitely my ideal. Salutations to all the parents out there. I tip my virgin strawberry-daquiri glass up to you. Much props and love. I'll join you...someday. Till then, cheers.