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We all need to unwind after a day of hard work, or no work. But a need to be around people. We need human interaction and touch, away from the cold, mechanical political-correctness on acorporate plantation. The real you needs an environment where no one has a title and peopleactually have style. Men have swag or no swag. Women have class or no class. I love living downtown because I can exit my building, go left, right or cross the street and there’s entertainment, food andart. I can feel the life of the city around me like I’m a droplet of blood in the veinsof the street. My city needs me to live, as much as I need it. I’m one with the streets,and I’m one with the city. My city is Charlotte, North Carolina.

Yesterday I went left. The day before, I went right. Today, I crossed the street to a spot calledPoetic Society, owned by a juggernaut in the creative scenewho calls himself Wounded Society. All of his poems share the theme of waking up Black in a white supremacist society called Ameri-Can’t. Wounded Society says America cannot love Black people because waking up Black is a crime. The brother is a fountain of wisdom and I like to bend his ear whenever he gives me the opportunity.

I cross the street and stand in line. Wednesdays are open mic nights, and anyone is welcome to the stage for three minutes to express themselves. Booing isn’t allowed. When I heard a young, Black brother was looking for investors for a spot for creative expression, I had to inquire and eventually invest. I liked to support the club on a regular basis; although it did well with or withoutmy attendance.