90+ degree weather, a complimentary ticket, and overwhelmingly stressed—what a combination. On Sunday, July 20th, I decided to push past my personal issues and let “di music” and “di dance” offer healing and calm for my body, mind, and spirit. What a juxtaposition, right, considering the brutally loud sound, flashing lights, and mix up of people, smoke, and colors that make up the Dancehall space. But that’s the power of Dancehall.  
 
I arrived around 6:30pm at the Miramar Regional Park Amphitheater; the sun was still pipin’. As I parked and made my way towards the entrance gate, I noticed how sparse the parking lot was. As my friends and I entered the venue, I could see why. There were not many people at the event, which began at 3pm so, 3.5 hours later, why di people dem still ain’t reach? 
 
As we approached the area, I observed the crowd eating as well as some women dressed in black fishnets and variations of black bodysuits, I assume that they were working the event—maybe bottle girls. Some folks were walking around—others were dancin’ and sippin’ on sumptin’. I noticed that they offered shrimp and fries but when we approached the stand, we were informed that the only food that was available were wings and fries. I saw people eating rice, some kind of meat and cold slaw. I ended up just ordering fries and some island (brand) pineapple drink (with no carbonation). As we walked off, I asked a woman where she got her food—she informed us that it was on the other side of the event space. Turns out that “Pepper Seed Jamaican Cuisine” was giving out free food. I got a small serving of rice n peas with brown stew chicken gravy. 
 
The 2K Mix Mixers line up included DJ Nicco, DJ Calli B, DJ Timmy, Willy Chin, and Buzz, playing a mix of Dancehall, Soca, Hip Hop, RnB, and EDM. The old school RnB vibes that they were playin’ was nice. 
 
The sun started going down and the sound shifted to soca and some Dancehall. The crowd grew slightly.  I was doing my thing, giving a likkle small wine here and there. The Mix Mixer on set at the time wanted the crowd to move up to the very empty VIP section; we obliged. Some went racing to secure a high-top table. Since we moved closer, I could clearly see the styles and fashion, and watch how people engaged with the music. There were a few women brukkin’ out but overall, this was not the batty rider, head top, grab a partner and cock-up crew. A few people were a part of go down low crew, but most people (men and women) rocked from side to side, skanked, followed the call and response from the songs, did the dance associated with the song, and offered a few gun salutes. 
 
Most people were dressed for an outdoor event. Women wore shorts, tennis skirts, and some kind of fitted shirt or body suit with sneakers or sandals. There were a few women giving “rich aunty vibes” with flowing oversized dresses with sandals or wedges or a pants suit-ish get up. The men wore jeans and a t-shirt or shorts and a t-shirt with sneakers. There was a woman in all white; I just couldn’t understand what I was looking at, I mean, she wore thigh high socks with sandals—I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen that before, but ok girl. 
 
Finally, Baby Cham enters the stage at 9:34pm. There was no real transition or seamless exchange from the Mix Mixer crew’s music into Cham’s session.  I did notice that his drummer was having some kind of technical issue which seemed to cause a minor delay. I also saw them bring some kind of cable over to the area where the drummer was set up. I question whether there was a sound check because, the sound was poor, too loud, and his mic low; there was also feedback from the monitors. Most of what he was singing just couldn’t be heard and the sound was piercing to the eardrum. I also asked the two people I was with if they could hear and what they thought. They agreed with me. 
 
Besides the sound issues, it’s undeniable that Baby Cham has a lot of bangers! I mean you can really get your dance on and the raspiness of his voice engenders a sense of sensuality and playfulness that begs for a lusty, raw, grind. Baby Cham is a mover, he dances and engages the crowd. Working stage right and left, he wines his hips, and grabs his crotch—I guess that’s his thing. He gives a very aerobic performance. 
 
The last song he sang was a new track “Hustling in My Blood”, a collaboration, with the Marley brothers, Damian, and Stephen. It was challenging to listen to because, you couldn’t hear the lyrics. I believe that after realizing this, that’s why he decided to sing the track without the music. The beat was hittin’, I’ll download it on my streaming platform for the full experience.
 
Images 1-6 (AC)
Image 7: y2kfestival.us and mlvcx_hvney (Instagram)
 

​No Expectations (2025)
A’Keitha Carey
 
What is unending devotion? 
 
What does it mean to never experience the joy of having someone in your life who cares about your needs and wants?
 
What does it mean to feel safe—spiritually, physically, emotionally, and financially by a parent or lover?
 
No lo recuerdo 
 
How does it feel to be protected, nurtured, seen, heard, valued, loved, appreciated, supported, and respected? 
 
No lo recuerdo
 
The painful loneliness of being abandoned—forgotten before you’re even remembered.
 
What is on the other side of this storm? 
 
Is it a rainbow, an umbrella, or something else?
 
Solitude: An anesthetic that removes all pain, sorrow, disappointment, and sadness. 
 
No expectations; you of me and me of you.
 

Today is the 52nd Independence of the Bahamas.   
 
There is particularly nothing to celebrate from my perspective as I draw comparisons and intersections to the US, my place of residence (and yes, I am a Bahamian by birth—grew up there and all the tings.)
 
As stated, I live in America and just got through the July 4th farce where we are expected to overlook the freedoms of millions of people being lost while celebrating the freedom of the land of the free (for a select few). 
 
There is a profound problem nationwide and globally as it pertains to systems that are in place that have historically FAILED (many) of its constituents. 
 
Again I ask, Bahamians, what are you independent from? The colonial imprint is steeped within the fabric of society and the minds of (many of) its residents. Let’s begin with government, the lack of women in leadership, THEN those who actually believe that patriarchy is NOT problematic. 
 
Next, there are no laws instituted to protect women and children.  Perpetrators of (violent) crimes toward women and children, some of whom are members of parliament go unpunished and THEN those who sit in pulpits who are accused/guilty of a list of offenses AND given little to no reprimand or rebuke. 
 
Corruption takes center stage in the country—on multiple levels…from the top down. 
 
Also, the arts have not been valued, appreciated, documented, and performed at a level comparable with other nations in the region (for reasons I don’t have time to address).
 
There is little to no action to address sustainability, recycling, solar power use, AND racism…etc. 
 
As TD Jakes mentioned in a sermon that I listened to today, you can not stand on tradition when it impacts and prohibits change and evolution. 
 
So, enjoy your day off. Play ya numbers. Watch Junkanoo. Eat and drink (I won’t even get into the obesity rates, and alcohol abuse). Listen to your favorite artists and have fun at the cookouts. 🇧🇸

​Well, here I am, one week post my Cowboy Carter experience. 
 
This was my first live Beyoncé concert—I feel like I might have been in the minority (new to the BEEHIVE) at this event—the level of comfort and familiarity that was seeping out of everyone’s pores. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Ms. Carter and I truly admire and respect her artistry (even more after this show), I just never had to opportunity to attend a live performance of hers until this year, and I am eternally grateful. 
 
Attending this performance, as well as my presentation at the Dance Studies Association Conference in D.C. helped to deepen my discussion of my dissertation topic: Erotic Performance and Black Female Subjectivity. 
 
How it began…
In the middle of teaching my CaribFunk Fitness class, my phone rang. Usually, I am perturbed when this happens, but when I saw the name on the caller ID, I knew it must be of importance. My former student and mentee from Texas Women’s University called to invite me to the Beyoncé concert in Houston, TX. This clearly was the best thing to come out of my dreadful time at this institution (but I digress). I paused in exhilaration and shock. The concert took place the week of my birthday and while I was travelling to attend a conference. I told her I would get back to her to confirm when I worked out the logistics. 
 
Preparation…
Attending this concert was like preppin’ for a wedding or destination event that required a specific look or theme AND the body to match. That meant clothes, hair, makeup, undergarments, boots, bedazzled shorts, accessories, and of course—rhinestones galore. I added spinning to my weekly workout routine because, bay bay, I needed to get my legs right for these batty rider shorts.
 
While I was a little nervous wearing my daisy duke shorts, others, clearly were not.  There was one woman, who had to have given herself a cramp in her hand and/or fingers by pulling down her shorts  excessively as she was walking. Ma’am they didn’t cover your batty when you put them on and left your house (but I digress).
 
As we entered the gates to heaven, I took it all in, the couples, friends, mother daughter duos, family, and everything in between. Most people understood the assignment, and others not-so-much.
 
Everyone received wrist bands which I thought was just a souvenir, not knowing it was an intricate part of the visuals in the show. My mentee asked one of the gate attendants what time The Queen was appearing, she stated 8pm and that there was no opening act. Once we got inside the NRG Stadium, it was determined that a drink was needed. It was thick inside the concession area. We got in the Margarita line. Then it was HYSTERIA!
 
Pandemonium…
At 7:50pm there was a call, an awakening. The audience inside the stadium screamed and the people on the outside went running trying to get inside the dome.
 
I literally was caught between my role as participant-observer. I couldn’t believe what I was experiencing. I mean, I have been in a crowd and had to run before, but it was usually due to a fight (LOL) or something. But this was other worldly. This should be an example of “drop what you’re doing and come now”!
 
The Show…
There is so much to analyze in terms of symbolism and representation. Beyoncé claimed her ancestry and right to be a part of country music (conflicts, hate, racism and all) in this land of the so called “free and brave.” The red, white, and blue that dominated the show signified country (land) and (dis)connection (land). When we think about our current political climate and the erasure of Black and Brown history and people, she showed up and out, with her “everything is bigger in Texas” theme and production. This signified a deep and authentic demonstration that Black people are intertwined in the fabric of the nation. 
 
“Oh Say Can You See…”
I saw “Erotic Performance,” primarily this new element, “creativity” that I am exploring that Dr. Raquel Monroe so eloquently shared during my workshop, opening my very fluid definition of the term.
 
I saw a creative genius who balances motherhood and aging beautifully as a performer, opening the doors for her children to possibly participate in their mother’s destiny and dynasty. 
 
My GOD, the visuals, images, video, fashion, fashion, fashion, choreography, the use of space, body, energy, and focus. The silence—even the breathtakingly scary element of the show where the car she was in, that was being lifted by cables started leaning, in a too low rider-esqe hydraulic gravity shifting act that left us all praying during her performance of “16 Carriages.”
 
I saw Oshun—the symbolism was undeniable—the mirror, yellow, gold—sensational! Ballroom culture was represented as well. “Honey Balenciaga” ate, twirled, spun, kicked, flowed, lunged, dove, layed out, and scrubbed that runway with her knees bay bay. 
 
It was a multimedia and multidiscipline extravaganza. The kids dauuuunced hunny; there was Irish clogging, contemporary, house, hip hop, funk, buckin’, and pointe. This was a celebration of all things Black culture. 
 
My favorite elements were when she rode the bull and sang the song “Tyrant.” The lyrics, playfulness, rhythm, and sensuality are all elements of erotic performance that I am exploring. I also loved the performance of “Daughter,” it was visually and aurally pleasing. She wore a dress that illuminated and changed into various lighting patterns—simply amazing. 
 
Can we talk about the brilliance of marketing her hair line, Cecred? The dancers performed underneath hair dryers while branding elements of the product were visible on the stage. As we were leaving the show, I saw a Cecred booth outside the stadium. I’m assuming they were selling or giving away products preshow. 
 
I must note that those boots were NOT made for walking. I saw many people limping, dragging, and doing a shuffle trying to get to their cars or rides. Shoes were off and corns and bunions were bleeding! 
 
The aftermath…
I was deeply inspired by my experience at the show, so much that I added several of her tracks to my CaribFunk Fitness workout playlist: “Grown Woman”, “Jolene,” “Daughter,” “My House,”; I even created choreography to “Tyrant.” One of my CaribFunkers stated, “I’m loving this Beyoncè vibe.” 
 
In conclusion…
I saw a video on comedian Tony Baker’s Instagram page where he addressed ludicrous comments of people stating that “Beyoncé needs to retire…she looks tired.” Now, I questioned how to respond to this. Should I go dutty gyal, junglass, skettel and go awffff on the ignorant, disconnected, jealous, and bad minded fools who thought that making this comment was a flex. 
 
First and foremost, people who are ACTUALLY in the field, don’t make these statements, particularly in this manner. I am also in the 40+ crew and this is deeply offensive. You have men in their 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s still on the stage (barely) winding their hips and gyrating (horribly) with 5% of her energy, aesthetic, and production quality but it is not addressed or critiqued in the same manner. You are operating deeply in misogynoir and it is deplorable, TAKE SEVERAL SEATS! This Black woman’s accolades and accomplishments extend further than your tarantula eyelashes and $9.99 bundles.
 
Beyoncé is nowhere near ready to retire, in fact, this was a master class in EROTIC PERFORMANCE, demonstrating her power, sensuality, sexuality, playfulness, spirituality, autonomy, desire, the political, and freedom. GWAN GYAL!
 
Images
All Images of Beyoncé are reposted from her page on Instagram.
 
 
 

​It is very difficult to continue showing up, staying positive, and thinking about God’s protection in the midst of hell on earth. What we are witnessing in real time—the dismantling of every law, policy, and initiative that was designed to support people in this country who desired, deserved, and demanded equality is repulsive.
 
The complete eradication of this is appalling, disgusting, and simply inhumane. 
 
To see (some) politicians pleading and crying because they understand (even if you don’t) what is about to happen in this nation by (many) yt people who believe they are supreme (I no longer use the term white supremist) is an abomination. To be clear, there is no God in this, and if you voted for this administration, there is no God in you.
 
Many of you are complicit—this includes yt, Brown, Black, and or otherwise who voted for this, or specifically, your non vote. You have entertained the devil, sat with, desired to be with, and have manifested the anti-Christ like entity that we are experiencing in real time. 
 
I think about our Black ancestors who described this select group as “white devils.” Oh, how we see the hate filled, acid rooted hearts, callous souls, and demonic ideas—the very same behaviors of their slave owning and genocidal ancestors. The DNA don’t lie baby. 
 
When I was pregnant with my son, I NEEDED government support for prenatal care, I used WIC, I have benefited from SNAP. My son is on Medicaid. I have health insurance because of the Affordable Care Act (Obama Care). I have a caca load of student loan debt. I understand and feel immensely the pain of this bill. We are beyond cruelty at this juncture. This administration wants US all out of this country. 
 
Their theory is, If you are not yt, you don’t belong here. Let’s see how that works out for you. Should we take all our inventions, contributions, resources, labor, and the benefits that came from our wombs too?
 
AND now, we have this “Alligator Alcatraz” initiative in Florida. Reminds me of “alligator bait,” when Black children were used as bait to lure alligators for hunting practices.
 
There is no place in hell for this crew. Hell is too good for the vile, immoral, revolting, contemptable, and disgraceful people responsible for this cruelty. 
 
Power and greed have been the demise of many people and great nations.  

Image: https://churchtimesnigeria.net/prayer-need-saints-intercession/amp/
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