Kate Ferguson's Blog

When I got the e-vite to Beverly Johnson's recent launch party for her hair and skin care product line, I remembered her visit to Real Health's offices several short months into my new job as the magazine's editor-in-chief.

Fortunately, the event was only a few blocks walk from our offices, and the evening was great for walking (yeah, you know, for health!-no frantic waving down of off-duty cabs for this editor-no sirree!).

Anyway, when I arrived at the midtown hotel restaurant hosting the launch, I hesitated for just a moment. I didn't know what to expect. Yeah, there was a red carpet outside the entrance--no lengthy train of scarlet, though. The carpet ran just from the top of the stairs leading into the restaurant across the sidewalk just shy of reaching the curb. Yeah, so there was no crazy crush of photographers; I just saw one or two when I got there. And when I gave my name at the door, it was on the list, so I waltzed in.

As it happened, the first person I saw who looked like a publicist was the publicist. (Guess it was just my night!) She explained how the launch was gonna go down and told me she'd just called Beverly to tell her chop! chop!

While I waited, I shot a little video--you know, a cutaway shot of the Beverly Johnson photo slideshow and a few of her products laid out on the table. (Umm, sorry, there were no samples yet, the publicist said.)

In short order, the restaurant's small vestibule began filling as people started milling about. Everyone was waiting. Then about 15 minutes into the social chatter, Beverly Johnson swept in wearing a slinky black number with her hair falling in stylish waves. (See my video below for the full effect.) She was accompanied by a man folks described as her boyfriend. (That's him with her in the video.)

According to information from the press release, Johnson's line will be sold in Target stores beginning in February 2012. They're described as being "multi-cultural hair care, skin care and bath and body products." Plus there'll be a collection of Beverly Johnson Hair Extensions available too.

What about the party for the rest of the evening? Well, sorry, I couldn't stay for the Johnson family hair show the release promised. Had to get walking so I could get back to the office.

It's true. I'm coming late to the party because I didn't hear about Tracy Morgan's much-discussed homophobic comedy routine until people were demanding he apologize tout suite. So I asked a co-worker to send me links to the latest news about the 30 Rock star.

After I read the articles, I started surfing the web to see what people were saying. From what I read, Morgan crossed the line. Some things, such as advocating murdering your gay child because of his or her sexual orientation, just aren't funny. And if that's free speech, well, think about it...someone, somewhere, somehow, some day might pay a price because he--or someone else spewing hate--spoke out without thinking of the harm their words could cause.

But the more stuff I read about Morgan online, the more I began thinking about today's omnipresent information provider and aggregator and communication conduit, a.k.a. the Internet.

I got to thinking about how incensed some people were about Morgan's "hateful speech." Some thought nothing of spewing their own brand of hatemongering online--name-calling and other mocking and hurtful verbalizing that amazed me. Funny how easy it is for those who accuse others of doing wrong to perpetrate the same crime they charge others with committing.

Today, many Internet users are guilty of the same kind of hateful speech Morgan employed in his comedy stage show. Whether the issue is homophobia, or some other stigma-generating topic, people routinely bully, bait and victimize others online. The tactics they use are the same ones constantly used by those who wish to devalue and dismiss others. They dehumanize and demonize people with impunity. Yet, for the most part, online hate speech continues to proliferate unchallenged.

Just as Tracy Morgan's combustible comedy routine blew up in his face and exposed the deep-seated ugliness that lies at the heart of all hate-filled rants, the same should happen to those who use the Internet to practice their art of the poison pen.

In this instance, Morgan's celebrity got what he said noticed. But while we're vilifying Morgan, let's remember to also do the same to those nameless speechifiers who post venomous statements via "anonymous" comments on countless Internet sites. (Oh yes, and hold them accountable too!)

In these days of anything goes and say-what-you-like speech, reportedly Morgan said he didn't care if he angered gay people with his inflammatory comments. But Morgan was quickly censured.

That said, when anyone condones violence against others--be he or she a celebrated actor-comedian or anonymous member of Joe Q. Public--what he or she says should not go unchallenged.

Oh, yes, I've followed the story as it's unfolded. Morgan apologized for his homophobic jokes and expressed mea culpas to all concerned. Is he sincere?

Well, some say yes and some say no. Let's see how long people's comments stay civilized, conversational and venom-free.

So I needed a mental health break, but really couldn't afford to take another precious personal day at work. What to do? Well, I made plans to lavish some love on myself at the upcoming Spa Week. (It's an annual event the spa industry launched in 2004.)

Spa Week is a really great opportunity for people to indulge themselves in spa treatments for just a fraction of what it would cost to visit beauty and wellness facilities and get this kind of pampering. So, of course, I definitely wanted to take full advantage of it.

Just this week, I got a little preview--it was nice and relaxing and fun. It was great leaving my deadlines behind for a few hours and checking out the latest sweet-smelling cleansers, creams, lotions, body scrubs-- yeah, from the sea--and assortment of other treatments currently available to help hardworking folks de-stress.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, I overheard a conversation between two women. One of them wanted to sign up to get her makeup done at the event. She said she didn't have much time and told her companion she needed to start keeping her beauty appointments more regularly. That floored me.

And, yes, I know women routinely go to spas and get beauty treatments done. But hearing it verbalized so very matter-of-factly caused a light bulb to go off.

When I got back to the office--yup, had to go back--I was mellow. As I packed up my papers to head home, I just had one thought.

I definitely was going to do this kind of thing more often. There's never anything wrong with lavishing a little love on yourself--more often than not.

For more about Spa Week, click here.

He's known as "DJ Mister Cee" but his "government name" is Calvin LeBrun and he's a Hot 97 radio personality with his own show, "Throwback at Noon," an immensely popular program. (I met Calvin when I was the editor-in-chief of Word Up! magazine, a music magazine that flourished when hip hop was just becoming known and recognized as the way the music trend winds were blowing. He and his MC partner, Big Daddy Kane, were regulars in the magazine's pages and posters kids loved to tape to their walls.)

Mister Cee, for those who aren't schooled in hip-hop culture, is a living legend, an icon of the rap from back in the day. That's good for him. What's not so good for him is that last week he was busted in New York City's West Village for allegedly having sex in public--with a man.

That private encounter in a public place allegedly involved Mister Cee and a transgendered person (reputed to be a cross-dresser) named as Lawrence Campbell. The two were observed indulging in oral sex in a car, fully viewable to two police officers sitting in their ride, according to online news stories, such as the one I saw on xxlmag.com.

The cops stated they observed Mister Cee having his "exposed, naked and erect penis" being manipulated by Lawrence who was engaged in the act of using his "mouth and lips in an up-an-down motion consistent with oral sex," according to the police report detailing the misdemeanor.

But what is Mister Cee being judged for? If you read the flood of comments currently still deluging the Internet, Mister Cee is not being judged for "public lewdness" and "exposure of a person" as the police report charges. He's being rapped for allegedly having gay sex. And in hip hop, even today, all it takes is a rumor (much less charges on paper in black and white) to get you a life sentence of being subjected to ridicule and scorn forever after.

All of this made me consider the still virulent response people in the black community have to homosexuality, and the resultant stigma this causes that makes folks petrified to acknowledge and embrace their sexual orientation, be themselves and get tested so they know their HIV status.

Whether or not Mister Cee was really caught with his pants down and whether or not what happened with his companion is what the police charged is only known to him.

What I do know is that Mister Cee's "fans" and the homophobic haters wasted no time in saturating the Internet with vitriol and venom.

About the only high note I saw struck was Hot 97's decision to keep Mister Cee on the air as fallout mounted. But I'm not that naive either. How long the station's loyalty will last is, I'm sure, predicated on the number of people tuning in just to see if Mister Cee can continue spinning his jams just like before and get through the craziness like a champ.

Should he falter I daresay he'll be scratched so fast, it'll make Mister Cee's head spin. (But hey, that's the business of show, folks. So what else is new?)

Now, back to my original question: What's this hip-hop DJ guilty of? His alleged public lewdness or allegedly having gay sex?

Would love to hear your answers.

So check this out. Last week, a friend took me to see this play named Through the Night at the Westside Theatre in New York. It's a one-man show that focuses on--and here's the kick--black folks' health. Yeah, really!

Daniel Beaty is the author and star of this show, which tackles many of the major health issues plaguing the African-American community, including HIV, obesity and keeping hope alive (a.k.a. maintaining your mental wellness, strength and resolve).

Beaty portrays a host of characters, among them a young black boy, who still dares to dream despite life's difficulties; his father, who's forgotten an important lesson he taught to his son to never quit no matter what; a former prisoner who unknowingly infects his pregnant girlfriend with HIV; an obese, food-addicted preacher and his gay son struggling with revealing his same-sex relationship to his father; and a young survivor of the "special education" school system newly become an academic achiever only to face sexual temptation as he fights to do the right thing for his future and not father a child he's unprepared to raise.

Deep, huh? That's what I thought too as Beaty (an award-winning actor) poured his passion (and sweat) into these six complex characters whose lives explore issues that are so relevant to the black community.

They're also the kind of issues that need more visibility so they can be seen, discussed and addressed by everyone.

Today, HIV continues to take lives in the African-American community. And although many people know more about the virus than they did before, complacency about HIV's status as a serious health issue and the stigma associated with the illness keeps blacks at risk of acquiring the disease.

That's why as a health editor, I can appreciate Beaty's subject matter. And the simple way it's presented? No sets, no scenery. What can I say? That helps to make you pay attention to what he's saying.

At a time when black folks' physical and mental health hangs so precariously, Through the Night shines a light on issues that concern our continued existence on this planet. There are those in our community who think that HIV/AIDS is a conspiracy against African Americans. But I don't think the black man is being led down the road to genocide by a medical conspiracy. What will take us to that destination are the preventable illnesses we get from the bad decisions we make that affect our health.

I think Through the Night is important because it opens the way having much-needed conversations about our health that we might otherwise not have. This play gives us a chance to speak about the things that make us uncomfortable and break the silence.

And while it's doing that, you'll be thoroughly entertained by one helluva good play too!

This morning, I flagged down a cab. When I got into the taxi, I noticed the driver had a one liter bottle of water wedged between the protective glass and the top half of his passenger-side seat. It got me thinking.

Bottles of all kinds double as bathrooms when Nature calls and taxi drivers are on the road--it's one of those well-known but undocumented "facts" about life in NYC or usually any heavily populated urban town where people without cars need someone to drive them from point A to B.

Anyway, that got me to thinking some more. Suppose you're out somewhere and you have to go to the bathroom...to do...whatever. Unless you're near a place where there's a public restroom, you're in big trouble. And don't go to a restaurant and ask to use their toilet. I'd say that nine times out of 10, you'd be told the restrooms are for customers only or you'd be told some lie to get you the hell outta there.

I mean, do these folks know how painful it is having to go to the bathroom and not being able to relieve yourself? That's one of the most uncomfortable (and painful) feelings in the world. (Right up there with being awakened with a throbbing toothache at 3 a.m. that just won't go away!)

And then I thought about it some more. What happens when we hold our waste? Does this affect our health in any way? Sooo, I did some research. Here's what I found:

If you hold your pee (urine if you want to be PC about using the medically correct word), what happens is that the bladder enlarges and its walls become weaker. If you do this repeatedly, this leads to difficulty completely emptying the bladder and may cause you to retain pee inside this organ.

This is an unhealthy situation because stagnant pee can collect bacteria, which leads to the development of urinary tract infections.

Now, on to number two. (Pun intended.) If you make a habit of ignoring your body's signals that it's time to pass your waste (ughh, that pains me just thinking about it), that might make it harder to go later on.

By the way, some of the stuff I found online about this topic is crazy. If you don't mind delving into bathroom doings, put the question into your search engine to get both grossed out and entertained.

And if you think this stuff is too trivial for you to think about, give this some thought. Some people routinely hold in their waste because they are ashamed to go to the bathroom. Besides being a physical matter, it's also sometimes a mental health issue. I personally know folks who do all kinds of things to avoid going to the restroom (at work, in a theater, restaurant or at someone's home) to ensure that their bathroom visits won't "disturb" others' sensibilities and possibly make them a topic of discussion.

And yes, that includes holding it in.

For them, I have one piece of advice: Don't do it--just do it!

And last but not least, there should be a law against denying people the use of restroom facilities when Nature calls. That's a real pain--literally!

Imagine if all it took to lose weight was hitting a dance party often enough to melt off the pounds--with the appropriate tweak to your diet, of course?

At first, I didn't know what Zumba was. My sister told me about it just before the 2010 Thanksgiving holiday. She had a promotion DVD that featured the Zumba dance party. So one evening after I got home (late again) from the office, I decided to try it. I knew I had to get cracking and get back into my exercise program. From what I could see of my stretched-to-capacity clothes, I needed to drop some weight ASAP.

What my problem was (and is) is late hours at the office and getting home too tired to think about working out. But when I popped in the Zumba dance party DVD, hit play and heard the music, suddenly I wasn't tired anymore. Just watching the people on the CD made me want to join the party, so I did.

Today, I'm still learning more about Zumba. For example, what shoes to wear. Did you know that you should wear cross training or aerobic-type shoes for Zumba dancing? They have the correct cushioning and medial lateral support needed for knee stability and to avoid knee ligament injuries when you're doing activity that puts stress on this body part. (Some Zumba dances have lots of side-to-side movements.) Zumba shoes should have low traction rubber for easy sliding and turning, according to the Zumba Fitness website.

In simple terms that means put on the right shoes before you try Zumba. According to the website, running shoes won't work because "they use a heavy tread on the bottom and are designed for forward movement." I learned this the hard way when I used my jogging sneakers and started to get knee pain from some of the moves. Lucky for me, I found a pair of still-usable cross trainers in my closet.

And imagine, you can burn hundreds of calories in a Zumba class. According to the site, the number of calories each person burns per class varies, depending on their body type, how much fat vs. muscle they have, how much effort they put into their Zumba dancing and how full and complete their dance movements are. (Naturally, I give it my all.)

But the cool thing about Zumba is that the whole DVD is such fun that the workout is over before you know it. I know I sound like an infomercial, but the Zumba experience isn't like a workout at all. There's also a Zumba video game for those with Wii, Xbox, and PS3. Plus there's an aquatic fitness version of the workout--for you pool lovers. (Summer's coming!)

And last, but not least, there's a Zumba workout designed especially for kids. With childhood obesity rates soaring, I think this is a great way to get children moving.

But later for the kiddies and back to me. Zumba got me back into loving my workouts. It's easy; it's fun and it helps you burn calories so you can lose weight while you dance.

What's not to like about it?

Last week, Cipha Sounds, a host of NYC's Hot 97 "The Cipha Sounds and Rosenberg Show" had a case of that most dreaded of conditions "foot-in-mouth disease." More dreaded than, say, HIV? I'd say, yes, infinitely more so, and that's saying a lot because even today, some 30 years after we know how the virus is transmitted, people still insist on stigmatizing certain population groups as being scary human carriers of the disease.

What Cipha Sounds said is a head scratcher that created a furor spilling into this week. On the surface, his statement, which he called a joke, negates all the HIV education and awareness efforts of the past three decades. The soundbite goes a little som'n like this "The reason I'm HIV negative is because I don't mess with Haitian girls."

Now what made him say that--even if it was a joke? (Are you scratching your head yet or maybe screwing up your face to reflect, "Say what?"

Yup, Cipha Sound went there.

Later, the DJ, whose government name is Luis Diaz, apologized to the radio station's audience. He called his remark "a stupid, tasteless joke." (Hmm, maybe there's a glimmer of hope after all cuz he recognized...)

Anyway, back to my original point. What was he thinking? Has he been HIV home schooled or what?

But the thing is, I think those who called for the station to fire Diaz are also missing a point. Sure, the DJ's "joke" is not at all funny. And, sure, Cipha Sounds "sounds" like a throwback to days we'd rather not remember (or maybe we should so, like history, they don't get repeated).

The fact is that Haitians were scapegoats when doctors uncovered the AIDS epidemic in the early 1980s. When researchers discovered that a number of Haitians had Kaposi's sarcoma and other AIDS-related conditions, medical journals and books began the blame game.

As a result, Haitians suffered severe discrimination and stigma. Haitian immigrants lost jobs and homes amidst the hysteria until more cooler heads prevailed and the crazy talk died down.

Why Cipha Sounds chose such an ill-advised subject to get a laugh is beyond me. I can only believe that it must be ignorance--the kind that shows he knows nothing of history and so is insensitive to the effect of his statement.

This week, protestors gathered outside Hot 97's studio and clamored for Diaz's firing. But is that the really the answer?

What gave me added cause for hope is when I read that the Haitian community suggested Hot 97 apologize. Well, OK, but well, how about a few more mea culpas from Cipha Sounds too? And one community group wanted the station to institute an HIV education program aimed at it young minority listeners. Well, OK, I can go for that too.

But fire him? Nah. I say, when people show their ignorance like this it reflects poorly on them. What's more, in a crazy, roundabout sort of way, it provides the community with an opportunity to offer enlightenment, education and sensitivity training to God knows how many others who think such issues make good joke material.

This way, HIV awareness and education will always get the last laugh.

What do you think?

When I first heard that a movie about HIV/AIDS in DC had opened in NYC theaters, I wondered how people would respond. Honestly, I didn't expect a crowd--couldn't see it. At a time when the economy is itself in recovery, and so many people still hurting, I simply didn't think folks would want to see a film about people living with HIV/AIDS in our nation's capital, or anywhere else for that matter.

Sure enough, when I walked into Chelsea's Clearview Cinema, theater 5 was empty. Although I'd predicted a quiet night alone at the movies, as I watched the trailers for coming attractions, I caught myself glancing around. Was no one else attending? Cynical New York transplanted that I am, I still wondered...did no one care?

Then a man strolled into the theater. He sat up front in one of the side rows. Almost immediately he whipped out a cell phone. Maybe he's calling friends to tell them that no one was in the theater, I thought. I also wondered what he thought about all those empty seats. Was he dismayed? Did he think people were apathetic?

But then again, I had to be fair. I'd never heard of this movie. I'd seen no commercials, no billboards hyping the show. People probably just didn't know about it. I was sure it was a limited engagement flick, for select audiences only. (Translation: People who already know about HIV or who are affected by it either directly or indirectly.) Then the trailers ended.

As I settled down to watch the main attraction, I soon found myself engrossed in the stories of several HIV-positive people. They represented a cross-section of urban Americans you could find in Any City, USA. Their faces and stories, reminded me of people I knew or had met at one time or another in my life.

Then it hit me. These were "invisible" people living in an "invisible" world in one of the world's most visible cities. You'd think that in the capital of the United States of America, where the legislators are just a short limo ride away, people in need wouldn't have to scrounge for housing, meds to keep them alive and funding to keep the agencies going that helped keep them going.

As the movie continued, I found myself wondering about a country where our democratic government makes claims saying it's the best the world has to offer. But if this is the best the world has to offer, it's not saying much about America's capabilities--at least not in the area of human compassion, kindness and effective and supportive governance of its citizens' health.

It's been said that a civilized nation is measured by the amount of care and concern it shows for its people. But by that standard, America does not qualify. If it did, there would be no "other" city within cities.

When the film ended, I was alone in theater 5. (My movie companion had deserted his seat about 10 minutes before the credits rolled.) Although I thought the film was predictably downbeat and an honest reflection of what's experienced by so many people living with HIV/AIDS, there were heartwarming, hopeful moments that illuminated the gloom.

I marveled at the the HIV-positive single mom rushing around, pounding the pavements and exploring every avenue just to secure a place on a several-years-long housing waiting list; the reformed drug addict turned HIV/AIDS advocate dispensing clean needles wherever and whenever with a kind word to give hope to many others consider hopeless; the gay Latino young man canvassing DC parks to offer condoms and cautionary advice to other young men and women of his age; and the older man prepared to reclaim his independence away from the love and security of his AIDS service organization caregivers. Would he make it on his own?

These stories about the ability of people to rise above their economic circumstances and compromised immune systems to just deal with life were incredibly inspiring. I left theater 5 feeling energized.

The one thing I regretted? That The Other City isn't required viewing for the legislators on Capitol Hill. Would that make a difference in the way America handles its HIV/AIDS crisis?

Well, I can hope, can't I?

What is true freedom? Is it simply a having no limits on our time and being able to move from place to place without restrictions, go wherever our feet, mind, and desire will take us? Is it having enough latitude to do as we please, enough money to tell an employer to "take this job and shove it?" Is it commitments, responsibilities, and obligations tie us down?

Granted, all of the above represent some measure of being free, but are they really what true freedom is all about?

Slavery-a word which conjures up images of our ancestors in chains, taken from their homeland by force, trickery, and other people's greed-is still alive and present today. A recent news story told the tale of a wealthy suburban couple who were, in effect, slavemasters. They "owned" workers brought from abroad. That human beings are still being bought and sold day and age is a sad and shocking reality. But, if you think about it, all of us are slaves to one degree or another.

Individually, we are all still slaves to our own personal addictions. Whether money, alcohol, drugs, a job, a relationship, or a lifestyle to which we have accustomed, we have allowed ourselves to become bound by the chains desires.

The fact is, we are all prisoners of life's constraints-whatever they may be. But that isn't to say that achieving true freedom is an impossible dream. Difficult as it may be to get there, I believe the goal is attainable. A journey to a place where you are totally liberated, attaining true freedom is an ongoing exercise. When you get there, you realize you need nothing or no one to make you feel worthy, complete or of value.

You can't truly be free unless you can walk away from everything-that job, that man, that relationship, that lifestyle, that dress, car, shoes, or bag you simply must have to feel worthwhile.

The point is that we are of value because we are who we are. We exist, and our existence is what makes us of value in this world. Simply put, we need nothing else to validate us. What we choose to do with our lives is up to us.

The choices we make every day to do or not do this or that thing is the price we pay for the privilege of being free. How close we are to attaining true freedom, however, is always an individual moment. Each of us is brought closer or taken farther away from achieving that goal by the choices that we make and the behaviors that we allow to rule us.

A lofty ideal, being ready for true freedom takes preparation. For many of us, it is a goal that may not be achieved until we reach the end of our lives. Without becoming morbid, I believe that the surrender to and acceptance of death's embrace is, by far, the closest we can ever get to achieving true freedom.

Once again, how prepared we will be at that time is purely an individual moment. While we live, however, is the only time we will ever have to prepare.