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  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
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    • May 30, 2025
  • Growth takes time!

    • May 14, 2025
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    • April 25, 2025
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    • August 13, 2023

    Growing old with Hip Hop

    I wrote this piece back in 2013, and in light of hip hop’s 50th anniversary celebration this weekend, I believe,...
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    • September 10, 2023

    Tainted lens

    Tainted lens The eyes Only see What a blind man can not Virtually Fantasy Is the reality Propaganda must stop,...
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    • September 3, 2023

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  • Letting go

    • March 31, 2025
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Wakime Hauser's Blog

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Wakime Hauser's Blog

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Lesson’s vs. The belt

As a 70’s baby, I was brought up by the belt. The belt was…

Wakime Hauser December 3, 2024
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Talking Art!

While catching up with a friend and a business associate this weekend in New…

Wakime Hauser November 24, 2024
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Showing up

There’s been a thought circling in my mind this week—showing up. Not just in…

Wakime Hauser November 20, 2024
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Election Day!

As I pulled up to the polls at Kenney Elementary School in Manchester, Connecticut,…

Wakime Hauser November 5, 2024
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  • Uncategorized
  • May 22, 2023

Mr. K

This blog is a great follow up to Ham Ave. When I first moved to Greenwich I was completely new to organized sports. The only games I knew were kick ball, stick ball, taps and tag. I watched baseball, football and basketball all the time. I just never had the opportunity to play sports in an organized or even unorganized setting. Living in the city and spending a lot of time in the projects didn’t allow for these opportunities for me prior to moving to Greenwich. Being outside and playing as a kid allowed me to transition to organized sports well. I went to Hamilton Avenue Elementary school. I was not a fan of the learning part in school. The change from the Mount Vernon/ Bronx New York to Greenwich Ct really halted my education. The Bronx and Mount Vernon areas I lived in were predominantly black. I didn’t even know too many people of Spanish descent. Greenwich on the other hand was white, and the neighborhood I lived in was mostly Italian. I went from being called a white boy to being seen as black. I was extremely uncomfortable and the only way I knew how to deal with,...
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  • March 27, 2023

Half a Mint

I had to be about 20, maybe 21 years old. I don’t remember the exact year or day. I believe it was the summer of 1993. I was pushing a red 1988 Mustang LX. It was the worst car I ever had. It was a candy apple red, had factory rims, and a kicker box in the back seat. I would put it in the trunk when I picked up my friends. The system sounded muffled when I did so. I had a portable CD player that I would use through the tape deck with a cassette adapter. It would skip everytime I hit a bump. I just started smoking weed on a daily basis and my dreams of being a professional basketball player shifted to becoming a rapper. I was drinking and driving, smoking and driving, living to get high, drunk and laid. Does this sound familiar to you and your post high school days? I worked at a summer camp where all of the camp counselors were doing the same. We would work all day playing and working with kids from ages 6-14, then go play ball, eat, and find a place to hang out all night partying.,...
  • Life Style
  • January 13, 2023

Bumpsy

Bumpsy, that is his name.  Who is that?  The man who showed me everything in life that I shouldn’t be, yet I wanted to become.  The man who hurt me over and over again.  The man who my sisters called Bumpsy.  Bumpsy is/was my father.   In the Winter of 2021, I forgave my dad and accepted his role in my life.  He is the man who my sister and all his friends (none to date I trust) call Bumpsy.  I could never call him that.  I called him dad because that is who I wanted him too always be.  It was not to the age of 41 that I realized what a father was.  That is when I began a relationship with my first-born son.  His presence forced me to be a father figure.  It was not hard, I just told him the truth, good, bad and or neutral. At the age of 49 I am finally confident enough to be a good father.  I am also smart enough not to try to make up for my prior shortcomings as a father in the past.  I am here for my children now.  I don’t baby them and I do not,...
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  • October 27, 2024

Breaking Free from Mental Chains: A Reflection on Racism, White Supremacy, and Personal Accountability

One of my favorite quotes is, “I’m not a prisoner of my past.” I’ve come to realize that I’m also not a prisoner of other people’s past. Too often, conversations are dominated by mentions of racism and white supremacy, as if those two forces alone are responsible for the lives we live today. Yes, racism and white supremacy exist and should be called out when necessary. But making them the focal point of every conversation strips away the depth and nuance needed for true intellectual dialogue. Take, for instance, someone who starts a speech by talking about white supremacy without illustrating how it plays out in present-day realities. This approach can become hollow, lacking the depth needed to connect with those who may not directly experience it. I’ve found myself wrestling with this idea—that the concept of racism can psychologically trap people who believe it is the primary force holding them back. When you believe someone or something is preventing you from getting where you want to go, you unintentionally limit your own potential. For me, I choose not to use racism, white supremacy, or any other external force as a reason for why I am in the position I’m,...
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  • April 25, 2024

My circle, The power of the Mat!

As I stood on the mat, rooted yet weightless amidst the palpable energy, my mind embarked on a journey. Nine men, all of color on this particular day, were poised to enter tranquility alongside me. I am both a student and a teacher of yoga, still navigating the novice levels, yet to some in the group, I appeared as an expert. Our class unfolds in segments, each spanning 10-15 minutes, with every yogi taking their turn to lead. Each individual possesses a unique profundity that imbues the room with a radiant energy that inspires. As I awaited my turn, I glanced around the room, struck by the remarkable men surrounding me. Three were newly acquainted, their introductions exuding an aura that instantly captured my attention. One regards me as a mentor, young enough to be my son. Two others have been constants in my life for nearly three decades. And then there’s the man I fondly call “the tree,” a figure whispered about in mutual circles for over a decade, whose recent collaboration with me brought immense joy. In that moment, I was in awe, elevated by the sheer magnificence of the company I kept. Taking a deep breath, I,...
Recent Posts
  • Men healing – Round 2

    • June 26, 2025
  • 2

    Shades of a Man (Podcast)

    • May 30, 2025
  • Growth takes time!

    • May 14, 2025
  • Men’s deserve to heal

    • April 25, 2025
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