A Conversation with Tim'm West

Back in 1988, the world Health Organization and U.N. General Assembly first declared December 1 World AIDS Day. This year marks the 20th anniversary of the annual event dedicated to remembering those we've lost to the virus and to recommitting with vigor to the fight against AIDS. In the past two decades, the virus has claimed the lives of 20 million people. The deaths of people HIV/AIDS have grown to more than 2 million each year. It's only recently, thanks to the lifesaving antiretroviral drugs currently available to HIV-positive people, that the number of annual deaths caused by HIV has begun to decline - poz.com....get tested, World AIDS Day December 1st.

-BGC

These are the facts: Tim’m West was born on July 6, 1972 in Cincinnati, Ohio and not in Taylor, Arkansas which is a common misconception. He completed his BA at Duke University, earned his first MA in Liberal Studies/Philosophy from the Graduate Faculty of the New School for Social Research in 1998 and another MA in Modern Thought & Literature from Stanford in 2002. The intro to his website, reddirt.biz, introduces Tim’m first as a “Poet”, in glowing words on a dark, fading marquee. In succession the marquee reads: Poet, Motivational Speaker, Emcee, Hip Hop Scholar, Author and Educational Consultant, click here to enter. His résumé is also pretty extensive:

“Tim’m has taught on the post-secondary level as an instructor of Writing Pedagogy classes at Eugene Lang College of The New School (nyc) and as an instructor in Stanford University’s first-year Writing and Critical Thinking Program. On the secondary level, he served as the Department Chair of English and Creative Writing at the Oakland School of the Arts before relocating to Washington, DC where he taught in the English Department of the Cesar Chavez Public Charter High School for Public Policy, as well as being a High School Coordinator for College Summit, Inc.”

His artistic efforts include Flirting, Tim’s latest book that follows his chapbook, BARE: notes from a porchdweller, which chronicles his move from California to DC, his new hopes, and his new loves. And in 2004, Tim’m released Songs from Red Dirt on Cellular Records, a musical complement to his first book, 2002’s Red Dirt Revival: a poetic memoir in 6 Breaths.

Ken: When did you first pick up a pen or spit your first rhyme or mentor your first mentee? When did you realize that you were going to become Tim'm West?

TW: There was this point in kindergarten when we went on a field trip to Nelson's Potato Chip Factory (Little Rock, AR). My family had just been evicted and moved to a new neighborhood, new school, new dilapidated house on a hill. Financially, we were struggling and I remember going on the field trip: new kid on the block, a bit withdrawn and shy for not having the clothes and house that some kids did. When asked at the factory where we were, I raised my hand and answered the host's (rather simple) question correctly. I received a huge bag of potato chips that fed my mom and sibs for that night. I was followed home that afternoon by a dozen or so kids and all of a sudden became "popular". More than the recognition of popularity, I think it was when I first recognized that I had some smarts and that using them in the right way could help me achieve great things. Beyond overcoming poverty and race, I later came to use the same survival strategies to combat sexism, homophobia, and AIDSphobia. So in some ways, I think I knew that I was born for this, this changemaking, this pathfinding, this journeymanning, this next revolution. I'm still answering questions bravely and with whatever truth I have in me. So far it's continuing to yield great things. If today was my last, I'd feel like I'd done some really remarkable things. Still, I think I'm early in the journey.

Ken: When did you recognize that you had the power to influence? What responsibilities if any came along with gaining that power?

TW: Hmmm. I haven't given much thought to my influence, because it's never intentional. There are those who see themselves as influencers, whose objective it is to influence. I arrived at the revelation through hindsight. People have always gravitated to me, so the power of influence is something that I had to accept, and with it comes a great deal of responsibility. I've thought most about influence as a teacher. An OUT gay-identified black male in the urban schools where I've taught, I was forced to be a lot more cognizant about "influence" given the negative cultural messaging about the "gay agenda" and its influence on youth. Fortunately, I had the support of Administrators to be just "do me". My best teaching happens when I'm not in hiding; and regardless of what people say, teens are especially curious about the personal lives of their teachers. Being closeted isn't an option when you're a well-known artist, and some of the students were already familiar with me. If nothing else, I wanted my students to feel loved, that someone genuinely cared about them, that my standards were going to be high, because I wanted to send them into the world capable and driven to beat the obstacles that would face them, and I wanted to challenge their thoughts about manhood and masculinity and envision it as something different than, perhaps, they'd seen or experienced. Among my greatest "fans" are the hundreds of students I've taught and mentored over the years. I'm as proud of that influence as I am of anything else I've done. Many of them are now activists (though most, not BGLT/SGL) who will continue to advance Social Change influenced by my teachings about justice, and what it means to treat others with dignity and respect.

Ken: What was the first thing you had ever written?

TW: I wrote some poem inspired by Walt Whitman about a pond I lived near when I was 12 or 13, but there's no evidence of it. I tried to capture some of that energy in "Coming to Writing", which is a prose piece in Red Dirt Revival. I don't even think I kept it. My first writing that I still have record of was a poem, Negation, which was published in "Red Dirt Revival". It remains one of my favorite pieces. I'm sure I wrote lots of stuff as a teen, but struggling so with my sexuality meant tearing a lot of that work up. I fought hard not to accept myself for much of my early life; and I'm fighting as hard to maintain self-acceptance. I'm a happier person for it. Poetry, growing up, was largely an escape from a world that seemed all too oppressive on so many fronts. This may sound really twisted, but I sometimes wonder if I'd even want to write once everything is completely "right" in my life. Unrest drives much of my writing, even when it's joyful or optimistic. I do hope to retire writing, cuddle up with a cute guy or girl, watch my kids grow up. I just think my writing will have to find new inspiration, but look forward to that.

Ken: You stated in an interview that your mother is one of your greater influences. Having grown up in, as you described, a pretty religious family, your mother being a devoted preachers wife, what was it like describing to your family, particularly your mother, your sexual orientation?

TW: I'm both a mama's boy who is my father's son. There's a portrait of my family. I was about ten and standing between them both. It's significant because I have 8 sibs. I look like both of my parents, and I've uncomfortably embraced many of their attributes: my mother's hopefulness and intelligence, my father's emotionality and masculinity. I found it easier to come out to my parents about my childhood molestation than about being gay. My father's first comment was "at least you didn't become no faggot behind it", so I knew coming out would happen later. Once I got to college I knew I'd come out, though it wasn't an easy task then. I officially came out to my mother when she visited me during a parent's weekend (Freshman Year). She was a bit shocked and yet seemingly relieved, for I think it explained a lot of the depression I experienced as a teen. She was clear that she wanted me to be happy, even though she also made clear her religious understanding (that homosexuality was a sin). She said that while she didn't understand it that she loved me. It was more than so many get and I was relieved. She let it be about me and suspended her issues and has slowly worked to a point of acceptance. My dad and I weren't communicating while I was in college. He showed up at my graduation at Duke. I had a boyfriend at the time, so that's how I came out to him. His biggest concern was that my partner Anthony, was older, and masculine, so he was concerned that I still be "the man". Because I'm my father's son-- masculine in the ways he raised me-- he seems okay. My dad doesn't' even so much have issues with effeminate men; he just doesn't' want his sons to be... Which I've had to process. I'm clear that his issues are rooted in gender. Our relationship has improved and, to my knowledge, his ministry is open and affirming of people for are BGLT/SGL. It's still a journey. It took me nearly 20 years to come to full acceptance, so I imagine that my family members will have their "process". My siblings are EXTREMELY supportive, so that helps.

Ken: How did your mother respond to your HIV status? Your father? Your family.

TW: Funny that you mention that. There's a famous letter published in "Red Dirt Revival" to my mother, where I decided that becoming HIV positive necessitated a second "coming out", not about HIV, but about how my first coming out was more less a one-sided "telling" and that it was expected that knowing was enough: no questions about my life, my partner(s), my friends, or any of the "gay stuff". In the letter, I talk about how the relative secrecy and shame around my sexuality led to some bad decision-making with regard to sex. When you can't share who you aspire to love with those you love, it can lead to a great deal of carelessness and lack of accountability. In many gay relationships, the lack of accountability leads to shiftless promiscuity, because there are little to any consequences for just walking out. I suppose that's one reason why coming out about HIV/AIDS was also couched in a relationship that I was in at the time that had given me a great deal of hope for living. How could I hide that love from the people I loved most? Everyone has been very supportive since, moving further beyond the "don't ask, don't tell" ethic we'd had even after my coming out to a "tell what you wish for us to know". I'm still gauging what's important for me to share and probably still hold a lot back. When I was last partnered, they knew his name and I'd talk about out trips places, our home, etc... When the relationship ended though, I dealt with it in silence. That was harsh, and I would have liked to have more support, but I felt like I failed them when the relationship failed. I wanted to be a positive representation of a functional gay relationship, but realize that even my siblings straight relationships have experienced challenges, divorce, etc...

Ken: Can you walk me though that moment?

TW: It wasn't so much a moment, because I wrote a letter and sent it home. I suppose that I didn't have to deal with consequences of the letter directly, though I have always wondered about the conversations my family has had about it. I later published "Letter to Mom and the fam", and asked for my mother's permission to make it public. It has helped a lot of people (mothers and sons in particular). I suppose some additional context is that I discovered that I had full-blown AIDS after testing positive, and was warned about the threat of a supervirus. That said, I was disclosing to my family out of urgency, not unlike those heroic black gay writers like Assotto Saint, Essex Hemphill, Joe Beam, Melvin Dixon, Donald Woods, Marlon Riggs, who didn't have the luxury of time to further mask their experiences. I wanted for my family to REALLY and TRULY know me. While the medication today has bought me more time, I still write with that sense of urgency. That moment made me braver, so I often don't feel the fear and anxiety until after I've already said what I believe needs to be said. Related, I'm most nervous after performances. LOL

Ken: What made you strong enough to confront all those associated emotions of grappling with this disease, dealing with your family, dealing with yourself and still having to project this cool, collected, banjeeboy image. Who's shoulder did you cry on? Who's advice did you rely on?

TW: I have a strong faith. I have good friends, though I often alienate them when I'm most low. I deal with a lot of things myself, because I don't want to seem a burden to anyone. I'm learning that it's not healthy and how to ask for help, support, a shoulder to lean on. I fear that if I depend on someone and they fail me, that I'll be crushed. I'm a fragile guy who has become hardened for my own protection... Still, the core is warm, loving, compassionate... Just not so trusting anymore.

Ken: How has your status affected the way you perform your art, create your art? Think your art?

TW: My HIV status is a health condition, so while it's not something that is at the forefront of my mind each moment of each day, there's seldom a day when I don't think about it at all. To that extent, it fuels my writing and performance without completely defining or overwhelming it. I'm also black and gay/queer-identified, and an athlete, and teacher, and lots of other things. Those things are a part of my creative work as much as HIV/AIDS. I hope that we can start looking at HIV the way we look at other diseases and without the added stigma and shame that is largely responsible for its continued spread.

As a black gay hip hop artist -slash- emcee –slash- author –slash- the rest of the laundry list of adverbs used to describe Tim’m West I would like to add influential. And those are just the facts.