Arrowroots International

I’ve spent more time in Russia than the average negro. I started back in 2009 in a summer program with Brown, Yale, Harvard, and Stanford students. We all took classes on Russian language and literature at the Nevsky Institute in St. Petersburg. That’s when I first saw her. Nappy red weave twists and a permanent scowl best describe this young lady. She never told anyone her real name. While we were there we were all given Russian names and she stuck with hers like velcro straps on senior shoes. As we were the only two black students in the program I approached her in an attempt to strike up a conversation. Me: (jokingly) “So you heard anything about Russian Juneteenth celebrations?” Her: “Dvaite, govorim po-russkii” Come on, speak in Russian. Me: “Ya ploxha, znau russkii. Luche na angslicom” My Russian is bad. English is better. Her: (eye roll) “Then why come here?” Me: That’s a great question. “I’m researching the history of Blacks in Russia” Her: (deadpan ...

Travellers are always crunched for time—get the most out of a visit to a new place with running shoes. Paris, Rome, London, Moscow, Oslo, Copenhagen... All beautiful places but a lot of things to see and just a few days to do it. Simple solution: run. Cover the ground from urban city views to waves crashing against the shore in half the time. Outline the landscape early and revisit with your friends who slept in. Own the terrain and conquer the day—hit the ground running. The streets in Istanbul are vibrant with an old world charm that demands attention—from merchants to pickpockets and musicians who play outside restaurants in the evening . My first morning there I was up with sun and out on the streets before shops were open and people were on the move. I jogged from my hotel through the neighborhood all the way to the iconic Blue Mosque and then to the Hagia Sophia. I made a loop through a different part of the city before heading straight back to my hotel —briefly catch...

Freedman’s Ward, Little Italy, Chinatown, and Meyerland—communities in the United States named for the people that live there. You can find these neighborhoods in most major US cities. Move from New York to Los Angeles and it shouldn’t be too difficult to make yourself at home—just find your people. The same situation happens overseas—you just have to make yourself available. In Helsinki, Finland, I found a Black girl from Dallas, Texas and apartment to crash while I renewed my Russian visa.   The company sponsoring my visa covered my travel and accommodations in Helsinki for one week. Visa processing for Americans takes at least ten business days (thanks Trump). I would have been on my own except I ventured into an African clothing and grocery store and after conversation with the owner, I learned a girl from Dallas lived in Helsinki. What are the odds? Two Black Texans in this unassuming Nordic country wedged between Russia and Sweden. Freezing cold, white, and ...

Searching for deeper cultural meaning often requires penetration into the interior lands of a nation. Any seasoned global trekker will share this sentiment. This past weekend, I received a crash course in French culture. It was my privilege to be invited to my friends wedding in Annecy, France. The bride, my friend, Katya, moved to France from Russia seven years ago—the same time I moved into her apartment in St. Petersburg. I left Russia after about a year and a half but Katya never left France. She fell in love and culminated that feeling with a wedding celebration at  La Ferme du Chateau , a picturesque wedding resort in The French Alps right near the Swiss border. Attire for four days in France fit neatly into my  Cenzo duffle bag —including my suit, and shoes. Wedding Party My flight from Houston stopped in at London Heathrow before I landed in Geneva. The Swiss definitely don’t take shortcuts when it comes to security. Fortunately, I kept my b...

Mega Churches are the biggest scam ever. I'm sure there a few small churches out there that still reinvest in the community and serve as a place where youth can cultivate their talents. From age 5-12 I sang in the children's choir and always had an Easter/Christmas speech. I learned how to harmonize and got to practice public speaking. I picked up the most important skill in high school. One Sunday, the audio visual person just disappeared. The pastor felt I was tech savvy and left me in charge thirty minutes before service. I had no idea what I was doing back there so I sped-read through the Panasonic AV system instruction booklet. I finished just in time to cue up all the proper mics for the choir stand as praise and worship commenced. From that Sunday, on I was the go to guy for everything related to the sound system at the church. It wasn't overly complicated. Anyone who could read could have done my job. But it was a point of pride for me. A few months later we go...

My grandpa was probably born on December 3, 1926. No one knows for sure because he changed his birthdate to enlist in the army. There's no official record. Sometimes his birthday is in November and once it was in February. In his lifetime he's been a logger, farmer, and bootlegger. Alcohol was illegal in Walker County Texas until 1971. And even after, it was more profitable to bootleg instead of paying taxes on his business. My town also had the first prison in the State of Texas. Death Row inmates are executed a couple of blocks away from where I went to junior high. There are seven prisons in my town that over 5,000 inmates call home. Growing up, I'd always see the trustees playing baseball in a field. It looked fun and the games would start early in the morning and go until sunset. My grandpa said that he was the owner of a minor league baseball team and he paid the inmates to play for his team. Here's a conversation: Grandpa: You know Lela Mae (my grandmo...

Open letter to the Rockets: GM Dear Mr. Daryl Morey, I have been a Houston Rockets fan since I was five years old. I proudly remember Hakeem Olajuwon and company bringing back to back championships to Houston in the early nineties. I have rooted for the Rockets win or lose and supported the team faithfully over the past decade. Jeremy Lin is an outstanding basketball player.  I have followed his career since he played at Harvard. My first encounter with Lin was in passing my freshman year at Brown University in 2007. I was leaving track practice as Harvard’s basketball team was arriving to play Brown. I remember smirking to myself on the way out and thinking, “Harvard would have an Asian basketball player…” I did not stick around to watch the game but over the next couple of years I heard locker room gossip about a Chinese player at Harvard that could play ball. Then in December 2008, I received a frantic call from my younger brother (a freshman at Rice) ...