…reposting old podcast favs for my fans searching my archives…

Yes, folk, I do check my stats, and it seems a few of you are thirsty for the old stuff on my podcast channel.  Don’t fret–here’s a shortcut:

For my listeners looking for old podcast favs!

The Brand is growing!  This summer will be busy with more posts, the launching of a new blog and podcast show, plus guest hosts and writers to really expand on afrofuturism work, as well as digital humanities work and creative writing.  Going to get really busy here, so stay tuned and please do continue to support this channel and the podcast channel –> https://cash.app/$drcat

Cherie Ann Turpin

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For my listeners looking for old podcast favs!

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I do read my stats, and it is amazing what folk will do to find that hidden shortcut to older episodes.  I’m posting them here for your convenience, plus I’m sharing my fav guest call-in spots with my spiritual sister Afroerotik chatting about similar themes you all enjoyed in my own podcasts with Afroerotik calling in as my guest.  Enjoy!

My first episode with Afroerotik:  “At the Edge: Talking Erotics & Afrofuturism with AfroerotiK”

Talking Erotics & Afrofuturism with AfroerotiK: Part Two at http://tobtr.com/s/3941025.

My guest call in spots:

Race and Sexuality w/Tristan Taormino & Cherie Ann Turpin 07/26 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio.

Sex and Sensuality w/ “The Honey Diva” Tracey Bryant 09/13 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio.

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A Winter Welcome For My Readers

Cherie Ann Turpin, UDC Winter Reception 2019

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Not bad for 52 years old.

Poetry is coming.  I’ll have some guests from my classes come and share as well this spring!

A word of wisdom from a literary ancestor I met briefly during grad school

“For the poet, the world is word. Words. Not that precisely. Precisely: the world and words fuck each other.”
― Kathy Acker

It was my first conference, my first time presenting a paper at an academic conference, and my first time in California. San Diego was almost overwhelming to my senses, but upon listening to this heavily tattooed woman with face piercings, electric blue leggings, and short blond hair, I began the process of understanding why I was drawn to Henry Miller, Anais Nin, and Erica Jong–and ultimately Audre Lorde, Alice Walker, and Toni Morrison.

I love Kathy Acker, God rest her beautiful, subversive soul and her penchant for being so raw, so fierce, so raunchy, and so unafraid of putting it out there for us to see. It was my first time meeting and listening to a writer who showed me how to embrace my own penchant for not giving a fuck about what people think about me writing about erotic subjectivity or writing about desire.  Imagine that, given the assumptions about religious, racial, and social class similarities and differences regarding women in America.

If you are reading this, go click on my podcast with Ronald Mason–I didn’t mention all of these writers during our podcast talk, but the ghosts of Nin, Miller, and Lorde were in the room and on the phone as we spoke. I think I’ve been holding back, a bit of a wound that has not healed from the trauma of grad school and worsened in the business of academia. Mason and I did talk on that a bit. He gets it as a writer as well as an administrator in academia.

And no, it is not an accident that my confidence as a literary scholar and as a creative writer revived itself when he came to UDC in 2015–sometimes a change in leadership from mundane and normalized misogynoir in academia can liberate the marginalized from the corners, even it wasn’t necessarily intentional. A pause so to speak, so that one’s passion for the word can flourish. He called me a scholar in a previous podcast I posted this summer–something I don’t hear often from colleagues.

To be Black and female in academia (even at a so-called HBCU) is to be constantly challenged as to whether one is truly a scholar, or even someone who is qualified to teach. Unlike the previous leaders at UDC, this man who is our leader actually calls me Dr. Turpin and means it. In this political climate that’s worth mentioning more than once–and bookmarking as a reminder every single time a cloud of worry or anxiety about my worth as a writer emerges.

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Watch the tide


This is the wane of the full moon
the time to toss to the sea
that which must be discarded
that which no longer serves you
that which no longer comforts you
she or he who is toxic to the spirit
now banished from sight
such is life
these are people you forget exist
revert to distant strangers
cast into the sea
burn the letters
wipe away all paths to you
burn the sage
salt down the steps
arise renewed
I am released.

Delivery

the other question
you never asked
but you did ask
i was not ready
to answer
because i was not sure
you wanted to see it
answered
the other question
you never asked
yet hanging over me
a bit too intimate
to be spoken
much less written
but here it is now
for me to say to you
as you read these lines
while pretending to not see
anything else i write
out of a need for anonymity
like a discreet folder
or an envelope under a door
i am ready to answer
i am opening that door
i am drawing you closer
i am accepting you inside
i am saying yes to you.