Note: The first selection for the Black Love Syllabus has been selected. However, this piece was more urgent. It wanted out now and so here it is.
The Setup
Richard Pryor's underrated film classic, 'Which Way is Up?' was released in 1977. It stars Pryor who worked as a lowly orange picker. When he finds himself as a union leader, he is forced to leave his family and move into the city where his life becomes topsy-turvy. Pryor, being the comedic genius that he is, portrayed the main character Leroy Jones, Jones' father, and a slick preacher. This multiple role playing became a standard for Pryor's comedic offspring such as Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence. I remember watching this film as a kid and didn't quite understand its context. The most memorable part of the film, at that time, was Pryor walking down the street in the closing scene. As the credits began to roll, the bass riddled theme song of the same title as the film faded in. It was an alternate version from the album and I recall bobbing my head to the groove, falling in love with it for the first time.
Even though I have watched the film several times since then, the song itself continues to resonate much more. That’s the trademark of Black music from the ‘70s. There are songs with heavy messages within them but the groove is so infectious that you will miss it, if you’re not intentionally listening to the lyrics. Stargard, a funky girl trio formed by Norman Whitfield, performed the song. In watching their performances on YouTube, it's clear that these sisters were otherworldly. Written by Whitfield and produced by Mark Davis, the song enjoyed some chart success but the group wasn’t able to make too much of an impact after the song simmered.
With the spongy bass line, signature ‘70s high hat, and booty-shaking bounce, the lyrics outlined the life of Leroy Jones, however, it's relatable to anyone who is dealing with life as it is spiraling. These days, I listen to this song a lot. For one, the song sends me back to my childhood and doesn't stir up any grief (more about that later). Lately, it’s been quite therapeutic to shake my ass to a dope groove while I'm journeying through the most uncertain time of my life.
Lyrical Context
"I had a little trouble in my hometown. Things got funky so I had to leave, right away. So, I went to the city on the first thing smoking. But trouble had a way of finding me. I ain't joking.
Now I think I know...which way is up? (I finally got my direction together). Which way is up? (Don't need no love that changes like the weather). Which way is up? (Don't have to think about it twice) Which way is up? (I got a new lease on life)."
How Does THIS Resonate??
This is where things are going to get pretty deep. Feel free to abandon the essay at this time if you thought this was going to be about the film and song. Nope. In my educator life, this is called building background knowledge. Instead the rest of this piece is about managing being lost or figuring out which way is up.
If you, as a subscriber, have been hanging around since the launch of this newsletter, even during its bouts of neglect, then you would know that my mother transitioned this earthly life in October of last year. Considering that I was my mother's caregiver and life manager, much of my life was altered by these responsibilities that I would gladly take up again if it could bring her right back here with me. Since her passing, I've been trying to read the compass of my soul in between bouts of grief.
And about that...
Grief is a frenemy. It is a friend because it is an emotion that allows for a complete emptying of the sorrow held inside and signals to others that you need to be comforted. On the other hand, grief is an enemy because it stands in the way of happiness and cheapens joy. Grief attaches itself to every single human emotion with intensity and amplifies every imbalance in life. It demands our most honest cries and sobs, which is healthy, or else it will bully you into submission if you're being stubborn. While resembling sanity, thoughts under the influence of grief are clouded with memories of both the beautiful and traumatic moments with that loved one that can no longer be touched. This is just a bit of what grief has been teaching me over the past few months.
At this time in my life, I consider myself wholly lost; barely anything about my current way of living makes sense anymore and I'm perplexed by where I should be, what I should do when I get there, and most of all, who I should be. I have come to accept that being lost is exactly where I belong for now and this admittance came through a series of sad nights and long mentally agonizing days leading up to and since my mother's passing.
Unlike being lost in any other instance, which is hard to do with GPS installed on our smartphones, this being lost is not so much about actively trying to find the path but rather search for the direction(s). For now, the power is in the searching, not the doing because honestly, there is not much strength left to actually do anything once I am depleted from that mental exercise. To some extent, I am left with a glow of hope while not holding the promise of certainty in my hand. I try to entertain all of the possibilities for a new life but fear of the outcomes overwhelms me. You see, losing my mother wasn’t on the trajectory for 2023. I was sure of the plans that I had put in place for the both of us and now, everything is lost.
Now, here is where Leroy Jones and I connect. In the closing scene, he's walking down the street, away from the chaos of his present life. The film doesn't allude to where he's going or what he's about to do, but one thing's for sure, he is in motion. The path lies ahead and the future awaits, whatever it may be. His face holds a smile and his stride is full of confidence. Like Leroy, I am in motion as well with a path undetermined but I am not as confident as he because I don’t have any real clues to offer any clarification. However, it’s my guess that both Leroy and I are starting over somehow. I have accepted completely that everything is upside down and it will remain that way while I continue to figure out which way is up. And, I suppose I’ll continue to use the song as part of my healing process along the way.
Thank you thank you thank you…
Also in a season of grief. You articulated the directionless and exhaustion so well. We keep moving - even if it’s just the small movement of lifting our eyes a little higher.