I still remember it clearly.
It was the very day that I sat in Mrs. Birkeland's AP English Course, deciding what my Senior Term Paper subject would be. I thought, "I'll choose a Black writer for sure. Maybe Zora Neale Hurston, Richard Wright, or Ralph Ellison". Soon enough, however, I landed in the arms of Langston Hughes, my poetic father.
That term paper changed my life. Mrs. Birkeland taught me to fall in love with literature. I knew instantly after being inundated with the magic of his poems that I would write poetry.
Fast forward 3 years, to a point where I sat in Prof. Johnie Scott's Upper Division Writing class at Cal State University, Northridge. I remember thinking, "you're in here with the best writers at CSUN: Patrice, Alexandria, Garfield, Jasmin, Kalic, Anika and a slough of other gifted Black writers. So, don't mess it up". Prof. Scott's class taught me writing discipline--and I had a hell of a time learning it.
When I completed my first book, Sweet Potato Pie Underneath The Sun's Broiler (an expansion of my Senior Poetry Thesis), it was my greatest accomplishment. I had finally done what I felt I had set out to do... offer my voice to the world. I thought I was so cool, because that book had my name on the front cover and my picture on the back. It was humbling to have Prof. Scott write my introduction to the world, and I took that orange book with me to every conference and appearance I could make.
I finished writing my second book, Afro Clouds & Nappy Rain, in 2009 amid a horrendous bout of depression. I was finishing my Master's Degree and completely stressed over the work I was doing with teenage boys in the juvenile justice system. The content of the book was way too scary for me to send out, at the time. While I had faith that the poems (Letter No. 5 To An Absent Mother, I Rise Up In You, Only 5) were the absolute best work that I'd ever done, I wasn't ready to answer questions about the content, my depression, or why I so flagrantly used the "F-word" in my poems.
My days seemed short and I fell alone as a writer... on my own.
Afro Clouds saved my life.
I woke up one morning in 2011 after getting back into the publishing world via articles, saying, "I'm going to get this book published. I don't know if I'll be the only one to read it, but it will exist. It will be here for good." I wanted this book to speak to teens and people of color around the world, letting them know they are (Beautiful) and that their progression is necessary. I wanted to write something that would inspire other artists, kids, and adults to live their best lives whether through tackling their own mental health issues, supporting victims of sexual violence, standing up for abandoned kids, or simply loving themselves to the fullest.
And the rest is history:
Artist In Residence at the National Steinbeck Center.
A National Book Tour playing dates all over California, Texas, Illinois, Indiana, Washington D.C., New York and Georgia.
Interviews, Collaborations, Hosting Events.
An ACNR spin-off play.
High School Students who have read SPPUSB and ACNR as part of required reading.
Having said all of that, I feel blessed and honored to receive an official nomination for the 43rd Annual NAACP Image Awards in the category of Outstanding Literature - Poetry.
What this means, and it took me a while to grasp, is that I've entered a new echelon in writing, especially when my book was one of 1,300 submissions in the running for a nod.
I share this moment with 4 other poets nominated with me, the amazing Nikky Finney, legendary poet Haki Madhubuti, actor Darrin Henson, and Jacqueline Jones Lamon.
It also means that I've received a nomination in the same category which has seen Nikki Giovanni (my favorite living poet) win four years in a row. It's also been home to Maya Angelou, Rita Dove, Alice Walker, Sonia Sanchez, June Jordan, Amiri Baraka, Yusef Komunyakaa, and Major Jackson (just to name a few)., Major
The Image Award Nod means that a new generation of poets and writers is well on their way to sitting at the table with our heroes. I stand on the shoulders of every single writer who has ever left their mark on American writing, from H.B. Stowe to Melvin Tolson, Richard Bruce Nugent to Zora Neale Hurston, James Baldwin to Toni Morrison, John Steinbeck to Sylvia Plath. I stand on the shoulders of every nameless-faceless man and woman of color who died and fought so that I would have the privilege to sit in an unsegregated classroom, where I learned how to write.
What the NAACP Image Award Nomination really means... is that a young Black boy from Salinas, CA can follow his dreams, by the grace of God, into divine order.
God has truly blessed this book and my life because of it.
So, I share this award with all of my instructors: Corliss Kelly, Margie Smilowitz, Mary Whitton, Mrs. Martinelli (NSHS), Elizabeth Birkeland, Johnie Scott (CSUN), Dorothy Barresi (CSUN), Rosentene Purnell (CSUN)... all of my mentors over the years Dr. Karin Stanford, Pastor Al Davis, Anna Caballero, Josephine Morris, Dr. David Horne, Dr. William Watkins... Joan Archer, Brandy Reid, Missy Chukhadarian, the FF Team, and everyone at Rancho San Antonio... everyone back home in Salinas....my courageous family, comrades and friends (way to many to name)... and the most amazing parents anyone could ever ask for.
This Image Award nod is a full circle moment for me, coming up under Valerie and James W. Golden, two community activists who served as Presidents of the Salinas Chapter NAACP. They have been my greatest supporters and inspiration over the years.
Above all, I am humbled to receive the 43rd Annual NAACP Image Award Nomination for Outstanding Literature - Poetry---and promise to continue to use my writing as a tool for social, political and personal evolution.
I still remember the day that I sat in the front row of Mrs. Birkeland's class... the day I opened up my poetic father...when Langston turned me out!...
He's been watching over me, all of these years, with a critical eye and moving spirit.
Thanks Everyone.
See you at the awards!
Watch February 17, 8PM on NBC.
Graciously Yours,

















