[O t h e r]-Womyn-ism

Update about updates!

2011-12-30T09:57:00.001-05:00

I rarely update here, but I am writing over at The Intersection of Madness and Reality!

Find me there and support the blog!

Another Post on Rape

2011-06-27T17:50:00.003-04:00

I don't know if you know this about me, but I was raped. I was raped just after my 19th birthday; without getting into the aspects of it, I'll explain that it was one of the darkest and most traumatic times of my life. I never saw the guy again, thankfully. Let's be clear though: he raped me at gunpoint, acknowledged that he did it, and may well have killed me that night.

Subsequent to my rape, I ran away to the university from which I would eventually graduate; however, in the time between my fleeing as far away as I could then stand and college graduation, I drowned in a pool of emotion. I became self-destructive. I was depressed and suffered terrible anxiety and panic attacks. I was imploding.

By graduation, I was rebuilt. Somehow, I rose above it all. I graduated with honors; in fact, I was the student of the year. I had the support of the people I cared most about, but they were not the people that most would suspect. Now, of course, the depression seems like a flash. It seems like I woke up one morning and with the blink of an eye, I am where I am. Having experienced the trauma, heartache, and internal death, I realize that the process of rebuilding was by far the most difficult struggle I've ever endured.

Moving back to the city which the rape occured was never part of a plan for me. In fact, since my graduation not-that-long-ago, I have been fortunate enough to travel about briefly, and it was just by chance that I landed back here with a career.

I implore you to understand, reader, that my life is very pleasant now. I hardly ever reflect to my personal experiences with rape. I don't want sympathy because I am a survivor; I fully acknowledge this experience and know that I grew to be a stronger warrior woman after it happened.

And so, my friends, life went on. Happily.

Very lately, I have been out and about and wondered if I would ever run into him again. I've been out and seen someone that looks familiar to him and had to process the idea that he may still be in the city. Call it intuition or something stronger, but I thought that I was bound to bump into him again eventually, and wondered how well equipped I would be to deal with the situation if it ever happened.

And it happened yesterday. I was in the market to pick up a can of peas, and I saw a man on a cell phone pushing a baby. Yet, he turned his head and I saw his face but he did not see me -- until I rushed to another isle to keep myself from having a mental avalanche. And he followed me. And I froze facing canned goods while he pushed a baby in a cart and spoke on the phone. And I could feel him slow down, and even though he hasn't seen me since I was 19 years old and a completely different person, he recognized me. And I felt sick to my stomach and disgusted. And I trembled as he spoke a 'hey, (my name)!'

I didn't look at him. I said 'hey' and ran to the other side of the market for check-out, feeling naked, terrified, vulnerable, and angry. What gives this horrible excuse for a human being the right to live, have children, speak to me as if he didn't -- in everyway imaginable except for the literal -- kill the 19 year old me?

I don't know. I don't have the answers. I am safe and collected; yet, I wonder why the universe is injust. It was a hassle to contact any person for any support; it was a struggle to avoid an internal whirlwind, and an external explosion. And I still feel like my internal London Bridge is falling down.

The thing that is keeping me going today is knowing this: I am better than him and that he does not/did not/will not get the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.

Finally, my first of several counselors post-trauma told me that I was numb and unemotional. (I still hear this very often today when I don't react to situations the way that people anticipate I should. I am rational and reflective, and that does not make me unemotional. That does not mean I am not reacting, it means that I have my own system to process emotions and it is right for me). The counselor explained the concept of "righteous anger" to me; and I tried to be angry that he raped me then. It was not right for me. I truly learned and experienced, only years later, just yesterday, what righteous anger feels like. I don't feel like I am betraying my true self in being angry. I don't feel like I am a coward, or that I am less strong for being emotional yesterday and at this instant. I don't feel wrong in questioning why the imbalance in the universe resulted in the theft of my life, my virginity, and why he is allowed to live. And I recognize that I'll never know or understand, but I feel it.

And I also feel thankful for the few people who were able to help me breathe and process.

Be Righteous(ly angry with me).

The first counselor I saw is the actual reason I end my posts with "be righteous". Whatever I do, righteousness minus a connotation based in religion, is my motivation.

June. Even More Amazing.

2011-06-11T13:02:00.019-04:00

I know; after such an amazing Mayo, after the wonderful experiences and all the love, how could June be more amazing a mere 11 days in? After going on my first cruise, my first experiece out of the country, my first real vacation in ages, how on earth could a-little-over-a-week-into June be that much better? Well, for one thing, I got to see my favorite band, The Legendary Roots Crew, live again. This time was a little different from the others. This time was something like a hip-hop fairy tale.

I had been discussing going to Philadelphia for this year's Roots Picnic for months. I love hip-hop, and as mentioned in previous posts, I love seeing The Roots live and ?uestlove is among my favorite people alive because of his talent, drive, intelligence, and contributions to the music world. It's all respect. (Admittedly, my post from last year's show was a bit of an exaggation on my crush. I read back on it and realzed that my sarcasm doesn't always shine through clearly in my writing. D'oh.)

After coming back from the Bahamas, and spending far more money than I intended, I actually worried that going to Philadelphia was not feasible. And quite honestly, had my travel companion not already purchased her tickets and made arrangements to go, I'd have talked myself out of it. You only live once, though, and I decided to go for it. In the interest of saving money, we decided to fly to Philadelphia. Neither of us had ever been on an airplane before; and the day before the trip, we both got butterflies.

The flight was fine. It was smoothe. It was beautiful. It was..short. We landed in Philly about 45 minutes after take-off. We shuttled our way to the hotel, and went to a casino for a while before retiring for the evening. Let's just fast-forward to the show, shall we?

12pm. Saturday, 6/4/11. We walked around, and bounced from stage to stage. We networked and spoke with Phillyfolk.

We bought t-shirts for the music festival. Duh.

We noticed that okayplayer was having a contest. To enter, one either tweeted or signed up for their mailing list. I'm not one for things like this; I don't gamble because I'm not fond of the disappointment you feel when you've not won. However, the winners of the drawing won the opportunity to watch The Legendary Roots Crew and Nas from onstage. We'd be foolish not to try, right?

So we tweeted. And signed up. And had people retweet.

And enjoyed the show. Saw some people I didn't know of. And some people that I did. Some soul, rock, rap. Donn T. Yelawolf. Oh, and did I mention Esperanza Spalding performed with The Roots? With all apologies - I was so excited, I didn't get a much better photo than this:

Sometime during the course of the day, my companion and I tweeted about how amazing we thought Amanda Diva to be. And she tweeted us back. I am fully aware of how nerdy that sounded.

The performances were great. Wiz Khalifa had several special guests that included Freeway and Beanie Sigel. Wiz's set was over at 8:30pm. Once that was over..the winner of okayplayer's contest would be announced.

They only picked two winners.

Amanda Diva came on stage to announce the winners.

My companion wanted to listen. I didn't want to get my hopes up.

Questlove snare roll..

She announced my companion. And I was excited! But I won't front like I wasn't a little salty. I mean, we came from NC together. We signed up on everything together. I know that it was a supposed random drawing, but it didn't seem likely that the odds were in my favor. So I stood. And waited for the announcement of the second winner.

Questlove snare roll..

Me. I won. I froze. I screamed. I waved. People rejoiced for me. RIGHT HERE. I WON. OH MY GOD. THAT'S ME. IWONIWONIWON. I ran to the side entrance of the stage.

Nas rocked. The Legendary Roots Crew rocked. As expected. They are my favorite live hip-hop act. They're utterly and always amazing. Did I mention that I met Kamal Gray and James Poyser as they walked to their keyboards?

And that Questlove and I kept making eye-contact during his set? Which, I know is probably a typical fanatic thing to say since he was lookign in my direction and I wanted it to happen. I know that it sounds ridiculous. I'm a very rational human being and I don't feel the need to defend myself. I know what happened.

Great show. We hung out, excited, processing the events of the day, when my comrade pointed out Questlove leaving the stage. My thought was, "damn. My only chance to meet him." Yet, who could even be mad after such an awesome day? Not me. Not at all.

Then we saw Black Thought. And talked to him. And took a photo with him. I'd be ruining my no-photos-of-myself-on-the-blog rule if I posted it. And then we saw Yelawolf. And talked with him. And took a photo with him. And I got felt up by him. There was far too much energy for me to process what was going on.

I was hot and sweaty and wanted to go back to the hotel to change clothing before attending the official after-party.

I was tired from standing up all day long. While I pledge allegiance to the fashion, and am quite flexible in what I wear, I'm generally a dress wearing gal for parties. However, I wore ripped jeans, a tank-top, and Converses to the show.

And our hotel was on the other side of Philadelphia.

And we'd been having the time of our lives.

So, screw it. Let's go to the official after party wearing the same clothing that we wore to the festival. We'd be fools to miss the party because I wanted to get pretty! Onward we went.

We sat and ate fish and grits with Phillyfolk. We talked about our excitement.

We watched Questlove walk right into the venue. And I respect the artistic zone, so I was not going to be that girl to disturb his music high while he was on the way to the dj booth. Nope.

We entered the club to party. We intentionally moved near the dj booth. And I lost my five-foot-tall protege among the people inside. I'm standing by myself, listening to the music, just a few feet from Questlove. And a guy unintentionally bumps into me and I nearly fell. I was caught. He was face to face with me and apologized. It was Captain Kirk Douglass. Guitarist of The Legendary Roots Crew. I was stunned. He apologized and moved to talk to Questlove; on his way out, he bumped me and apologized again.

We partied. We went outside for air. We went back inside for a moment, and I danced with a guy from another state for a while, while my homegirl had to handle some business. And while this guy is in my ear, my friend comes back and grabs my arm and takes me over to Questlove. She introduces herself and explains that we took our first flight ever to see him. And that I love him.

And then he grabbed my hand. And I blushed. And he smiled at me, and made his way out.

I wish the story ended with me losing a glass slipper, but I wore Converses to the party. I didn't give him my phone number or scream out my level of devotion to him. Instead, I was civil. Classy.

And it was the best weekend of my entire life.

April Showers bring...MAYCATION!

2011-06-11T10:25:00.017-04:00

With the winding down of my incredibly active April, I was quite satisfied - and exhausted - with all of my groundwork and advocacy for Sexual Assault Awareness Month. Though, May was very busy and quite lovely because my best friend/cousin turned twinny-five. Yes, that's right. We're reaching a whole new realm in adulthood.

To kick off her birthday, we saw Mint Condition and Raheem DeVaughn and it was a fabulous show. Raheem-the-dream just don't know!

The next night, we partied. Hard. A bit too hard. I'd bore you with the details of our club hopping and all that but...some things stay just 'tween us girls. It was a success. A very wild and exciting success.

A week later, I traveled out of the country for the first time. That's right folks; she and I went to the Bahamas. And it was an amazing trip.

We bummed. We learned. We tanned. We shopped. We partied. We ate. We had the time of our lives.

There are no real words, but there are photos worth thousands.

To top it off, cousinbestfriend got engaged at the end of the month. It was a good one.

Peace, love.

Coming Up!

2011-06-09T18:29:00.003-04:00

Over the last thirty days, I've been incredibly busy. I've seen a few live shows. I've traveled out of the country. I've taken my first plane ride to a state I've never visited. I've seen my favorite band again - except this time, things are different.

I think that the best way to handle this is to break my last thirty days into many mini episodes over the course of the next few days. Be very afraid.

2011-05-31T19:24:00.001-04:00

Also, feel free to follow @otherwomynism on Twitter! Tweet me thoughts, comments, and suggestions!

2011-05-31T19:23:00.001-04:00

Unfortunately, the disrespect in the comment section of the blog has become excessive and comments are being heavily moderated. At least for now.

Conspiracy Theories: Pro-Choice and Eugenics

2011-05-28T13:34:00.011-04:00

It is entirely possibly to discuss the choices in reproductive freedoms and birth control without entertaining the ideas of eugenics and genocide. I don't praise or worship Margaret Sanger for her classist, and subsequently racist, stance on eugenics and birth control. Similarly, let the record reflect that I'm not thrilled about positive eugenics propoganda handed over by the conspiracy theorist militant Negroes of our communities.

Okay. I understand that this might sound harsh. I also understand that people specify desirable qualities they look for in their mate, which may support a degree of positive eugenics in future family planning. Let's ignore the minor degrees of positive eugenics theories and jump right into the extreme ones. For example, I have an associate that I very much value for a lot of different reasons and opinions. However, in our initial correspondances, he made it clear that he was impressed with my beauty as a young Black woman; aside from my physical beauty, he made it clear that I am very intelligent, knowledgable, and resourceful. And so, in complimenting my personal characteristics, his solution to our friendship was this: we should have children together to improve the quality and condition of the entire Black community, and so that the Black race could better compete with the world. And I did not find this to be brilliant, but instead insulting. Positive eugenics is the practice of encouraging the so-called "genetically advantaged" to procreate. Before, during, and after my dear mixed-up associate identified me as genetically desirable, I leaned away from the idea of having a family. And so, the feeling in my stomach when discussing such theories as his pushed me further and further away from the idea of being a mother. As I often say, not in the forseeable future.

In my veryveryvery ~~not-so~~ humble opinion, when minority communities embrace pro-positive eugenic theories, it not only detracts from the work and responsibility of parents and community in raising children (nurture), but it validates the things that white slave masters actively practiced and believed in with regard to the reproductive exploitation of women slaves in America (nature).

In the early 1900s, Margaret Sanger did fully support negative eugenics - or using birth control to limit fertility as a means to eliminate those deemed genetically unfit - and she did birth the American Birth Control League. As a Black woman, I do not deny nor excuse any of this. This is factual, despite my personal ideologies. She, however, raised a substantial amount of positive points not specific to eugenics, that bleed into different realms of reproduction and human sexuality.

While I am becoming better at respectfully disagreeing and not using what I deem to be, well, just wrong and using it to invalidate all of a person's opinions, it has always been difficult for me to not look at a person and judge them based on their evils. Yet and still, I will respect and defend my mixed-up associate as I will certain aspects of Margaret Sanger in being pro-choice.

The idea that I am supposed to procreate with the aforementioned associate is an inside joke that often comes up between us. When recently joked about, my response was simply that the world is overcrowded and beyond capacity in terms of human population, and that I'd rather not be part of the problem. And while the joking response of my assicate turned my stomach, the theme that anti-choice sentiment included sparked a teeny tiny debate. Yes, there is such a thing. "Our child might be the solution," he says, "with my ferocity and your attitude, he could one day kill millions." I sighed a 'no thanks' to avoid what could have been a match of repartee, and he continued, "I don't think you could make a greater contribution to the resolution of over-population." Laugh, "He could be deadlier than Planned Parenthood."

My response, quick and simple, "Planned Parenthood has helped many women. Not having Planed Parenthood is 'deadlier' than Planned Parenthood. Word." Word. I often think that people like starting with me to see my fire and passion. To see my mind work. To see if I'll back down. (As recent as this morning, my dad tried his best to set me off and then told me that my eyes were really pretty when I am angered.) And so, here we are:

Him, "I thought that would enliven you." Laugh, "But what is the ethnic breakdown of abortion in America and the world. If a people have an adversarial perspective of us, isn't it easier to kill a warrior as an embryo than kill him later on the battlefield?" That was poetic.

Me, "Abortion, unless it isn't a choice to have or NOT have one, is a choice that women make. The problem with anti-choice sentiments is that they don't take into account the choice, and on the other end -- the nonsafe abortions that have and will continue as a result of limiting our resources. One could argue that limiting our resources and having anti-choice billboards specific to the Black community is their way of having us kill ourselves." This is the problem with conspiracy theories.

Him, "What Black people don't consider is demography and the correlation between population shifts and power on our planet. That's why China is such a beast now. They outnumber Americans 5 to 1." Well now, what's that got to do with the price of tea in China? Oh wait.

Me, "That's a separate issue to genocide and certainly to the population overcrowding. And also, poor exdample as China has a limit on children they can birth. And since male children are socially more desirable, female children are adopted out, abandoned, or killed. Which goes back to anti-choice in issues of reproduction and women's bodies. Boom." Boomboomboom.

Him, "I'm talking about birth control as a part of a genocide policy. What are your views on that?"

Me, "I think that if you aren't considering the idea of choice in birth control tactis, you're missing the point. And it isn't genocide unless mandated and/or institutionalized."

Him, "So the issue of choice is tantamount, even in a mass murder plot? Restrict resources and promote pro-choice billboards as part of a genocide campaign? Pretty crafty, but the people are awakening today. And since when does Congress vote on a genocide resolution? The demographers say that at the present rate of birth, Blacks and latinos will be the majority in America by 2050. And you don't think a racist mind would employ and fund Planned Parenthood regardless of its mission statement, to prevent the rise in our numbers?"

Instead of addressing each and every impassioned point that he point he made, the bells sounded and I brought the conversation to a halt. Scrrrrrrrrrrrch. Do I find conspiracy theories interesting? Absolutely. I do not entertain every one thrown at me, of course, but the ones that are detailed enough to illustrate any level of serious reflection at their own inception should be entertained for the amount of effort utilized. I don't know that this was one of those moments. Looking back on it, the response was so well articulated that it may have deserved more than I gave it.

Me, "You can't have it both ways -- you can't say the enemy is plotting and then suggest we are too awakened to fall for it. You're contradicting yourself and eery argument you've ever made. That you suggest the 'enemy' is plotting against us, but then say that my argument [about the pro-choice billboards encourages us to kill ourselves with back-alley abortions] is unappealing because we're awakened. One cancels out the other. Your argument provides that the level of consciousness be qualified, and that is subjective. You can't cancel out my argument in using the 'awakening' but allow your argument to still be valid." Research: unsafe/illegal abortions.

While the debate did not turn ugly and emotional, it did end as they often do: with my being told to step by game up in order to identify "evil machinations executed from high levels of power" and questioning whether or not I truly identify that there is an opponent.

More than anything, I oppose themes and ideologies; if I opposed people instead, my associate and I would not have any interest in speaking to one another for the fiery debates in the past that often ended in name-calling. (I'm not a namecaller.) I'd have to considering turning away from people much more for their choices and beliefs that are anti-me. It would be difficult to survive in our world, and I would be forced to be alone. My work would be destroyed; I've ~~reluctantly~~ advocated for people who hated me more than the forces that are against us.

I'm learning. Respect. Be Righteous.

Subliminal Messages in Internet Advertising

2011-04-21T15:17:00.006-04:00

In searching for the right things to write, especially among my own internal reflections and contemplations, I recently decided to work on independent research projects for myself. In essence, I decided that I'd continue my involvement in academia in this way, and accomplish the things that I'd like to accomplish on my own time; and so, your favorite nerd-activist will be submerged in the depths of academic research, purely for leisure, and hopefully reporting any interesting findings to the masses.

In the midst of researching reproductive exploitation during US slavery, I stumbled upon a page about slave breeding. The page was brief and fairly informative, but featured on the left hand panel was an advertisement. I will add that I have no idea how internet advertising actually works (what goes where and when), but I found it ironic, insulting, and powerful to the point. Screenshot below.

It reads: "AfroRomance: Where Love is More Than Skin Deep" and features a white man appearing to lay on top of a Black woman. Not captured in the screenshot is the "search for interracial singles". Interesting to have appeared on the "slave breeding" site.

Take from it what you will. Be righteous.

Sugar, Spice...Everything Nice

2011-01-11T12:03:00.004-05:00

I’ll be honest, I have a stubborn streak. I know this may come as a surprise to you, dear reader; what – with my gung-ho progressive causes and my work right in the ground zero of womanism. I get how it could be difficult to view me as someone who gets stuck in her own frame of mind. You don’t understand. Even my online friends acknowledge this stubborn streak. Just the other morning, I polled my twitter friends on how long they thought it would be before I got sick of my curly hair flopping in my face. I usually pin it back but I felt pretty good about the style I had going on. Anyway, one tweeter had an entire method to her prediction: she bet that I would be tired of it later in the day, because if people were better against me, I’d try that much harder to win the bet. Clever.

I thought about my stubborn streak just the other night, actually. I thought about my home-life and what makes a “home” versus a “place I live.” It sounds silly. Nit-picky, even. I moved right back to the lovely comforts of my home town in the South, and yet it was only until last night when I unpacked my groceries that the place where I live began feeling like my “home”. The trick? Apparently the trick was finally getting around to buying real spices for my spice cabinet.

I cook often, and I’m damn good at it, thanks; but I’ve maintained a very limited collection of spices and I have a theory as to why: to make myself feel like I’m not “stuck” here. Committed and all. I know that might not make sense but I’ve done this with a number of things: lease signing, ~~long-termany~~ relationships, new friendships and socializing, becoming connected to my new-old place of residence. I mean, honestly, my full-time job is the absolute only absolute with my current place.

I wonder, though; if I decided to really grow to love the place where I live – to find other square pegs to not fit-in with – will the new-old place where I live begin feeling more like home?

Call it an challenge to grow masked as an exercise only for the sake of my sanity, but I’ve had thoughts about feeling wanted, needed, valued, or even at the bare minimum liked. I’d like to make more connections to people I genuinely like and have things in common with, and I’ve recently made progress. In the bigger scheme of things, and to be painfully cliché, I’m looking or the spice of (my) life.

I thought it would be really neat, though, if I began making my actual physical address a bit more like my home. Sure, I live here. And I’ll give it to ya, it’s got style. But I want to make it mine. It’s so standard and typical right now and it doesn’t really fit my personality. It’s like the straight-haired version of me; people loved my straight hair. I waltzed into my workplace like a blast from the past as a result of pure spontaneity and I received so many compliments on my hair. I even liked it a little bit, but it wasn’t me. One coworker talked about how gorgeous and lengthy my hair was, but told me that it was so plane and tame for me. She felt like I’m not me unless I put time and effort into creating a chaotic twist to my style all for the sake of fashion. That’s fair. And very much how I view my home. I have a cute and conservative den and photos of my family about. I have my record player and piano, and a nice vintage kitchen, complete with a stove that dates to the 50s. My bedroom is quite bland. Even my bathroom, though tiny, is very put together and neat. And it all isn’t rockin’ enough for me to call it my own.

As such, I’m coming back to life and illustrating more of me in every aspect of my 2011-life. Does that make sense, or does it just seem plum frivolous? I say, you’ve got to start somewhere and making my home a little more artsy and fitting of who I am is the first step.

I'm going to take a step back from the being stubborn, simply to enjoy my life where I am. They're only things; and if being comfortable means feeling "stuck", there's something else I need to work on: a little thing called perception.

2011.

2011-01-09T12:07:00.005-05:00

I've come to a crossroads of realization in my life. What a way to just jump right back into the blog after I apologized for the lack of consistancy in my updates. After I promised to do better. I know, right? Just hear me out.

In all of my moving about the eastern US over the last year, I've done some soul-searching. I've had horrible experiences in the world of dating. I've immersed myself into the world of twitter for a second time. I've straightened my hair for the first time in 5 years, temporarily though. I'm working in the perfect career for me, and I love the work that I do. More recently, I've stared at a lunar eclipse, pondering where I am in life. I've spent so much time planning "what's next" in my life that I've become consumed in where I want to go instead of just going. A silly defect I've struggled with for years.

I've dscovered that in order to be good to myself, I have to enjoy life outside of my career. I know this sounds like a rather simple revelation but I've found that working on the front lines all day long and then coming home to nothing but myself can be relieving if you allow it to be. However, reading news, ranting on twitter, blogging (eh, when I updated more often), diving into news channels...doesn't give much time for an effective emotional detox. This does not mean I'll stray away from social and poltcal commentary while blogging (/micro-blogging). But for the sake of it all, I have to breathe and enjoy life. And so, in my 2011 blogging career, I fully intend to discuss more than social justice.

Now, I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions. It is completely embedded in my beliefs about human nature that if people truly desire to make a change, they do it then and there instead of deciding to wait until the year roll's over and then lapsing into old habits. Color me cynical. I say that to say this: I have to stop planning and start doing. As such, I have goals for myself that I am working toward. These include being more open about new experiences and people, and about who I am. Traveling, forgiving, learning, volunteerng. Much of the same old me, but with a major twist: I must breathe.

So, here's to new experiences! Thanks for sticking with me, dear (few) readers. Cheers.

Take Two: Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtianti

2010-09-06T12:41:00.008-04:00

In my far-too-long hiatus from the blog, I've only consistently received a comment here and there on my post about Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtianti, the Iranian mother who was found guilty of adultery and sentenced to death by stoning. The comments that I did receive ranged from insinuating that I was, simply put, an ignorant American girl who had no concept of anything dealing with the Islamic laws to being in support of the revolution that Iran and other Islamic nations are undergoing -- but from a distance.

I'm not "crying" for true justice as some American-citizen girl with no concept of the world. I am, however, advocating that the few people who stumble upon my opinions be awakened to the horrors of the inhumane nature that some people possess as a citizen of the world. As a matter of fact, this fight is hardly about the constantly purported dangers of Islam - but much rather the dangers of a religiously fundamental (or, even based) political body governing the behaviors, thoughts, actions, and opinions of a set of the people.

Is it just that any person be stoned for any crime at all? If you answered yes, then I'd question the depth and completeness of your humanity. And I'd also ask for what crime is death by stoning not cruel and unusual? This woman was originally sentenced to death by stoning for committing the crime of adultery; and for those who are confused on the definition of adultery, it is simply extra-marital sex. The originally referenced post is not about whether or not adultery is morally wrong. Instead, it is about the cruel and unusual nature of the sentence death by stoning.

Ansar739 3 days ago in reply to livication
Please stop crying... why you people cant see the bombardment of USA on innocccent people in the name of terrorism?? is't that cruel?? Please stop crying and stop saying anything against islam. Islam is the only religion in the universe and if she is guilty then this is the right punishment.

Indeed, many religious individuals see their beliefs to be the only set of accurate beliefs, and indeed - I absolutely disagree with this assessment with every ounce of my ability to do so, and have always held the view that if only one religion was accurate, then there would not be more than one religion. This, no doubt, is one of several roots of my own atheism; the practice of religious fundamentalism is quite dangerous. My opinions on extremism and religious supremacy are not Islam-specific - they also are applied to various other religious divisions. While I may not update my blog very often any more, I have been updating my twitter and on that note, I have several tweets(/facebook posts) that are specific to the current anti-Islamic and Islamaphobic sentiment currently being expressed by some across America. And the updates are along the same note: the marriage of politics and religion is most dangerous and impractical to the evolving nature of society and to true freedom. I have vehemently expressed my disappointment and total disagreement on book burnings and the Jim Crow-esque positions on "Ground Zero Mosque".

Lastly, what makes death by stoning even more cruel and unusual is the same sentiment I apply to the death penalty across America, as unintentionally expressed by the above referenced commenter: the "if" factor. When I was in my last year of college, I met a death row exoneree that was brought to the university for a lecture. He was on death row for 18 years; 18 years of his life were spent behind bars when he had never had any conflict with the law, for a crime that he did not commit. The truth of the matter is that there are biases from within the system, and there are mistakes made. And the above commenter stated that "if" she is guilty, then this is proper punishment. I suppose the logic would follow that, if she isn't guilty...then, oh well.

This isn't about my being American and looking down at Islamic nations, because I acknowledged the lack of separation of church-and-state in my previous post regarding this situation. Yet, as a human being, this is about the right of another human being. This is a human issue.

With all the secrecy of the situation, I'd like to just point out that her sentence is suspended and the situation has not come to a complete resolve. Last I read, her son has requested actual proof of the "on hold" status of Sakineh's sentence, and the government has yet to substantiate it in writing.

Be Righteous.

Hubbub!

2010-08-31T22:29:00.002-04:00

Yes, my life is still very chaotic (as always). And yes, I am working on updates for the blog. If I have any readers left..stick around! You won't regret it. I'll be updating very soon.

Promise.

Obscure Dreams

2010-08-07T10:25:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, my really wonderful nomadic earthy traveler friend sent me a text message. She has recently finished volunteering for Americorps and has been all over in such a short period of time. My friend, my sister.

Her message was quite random, but perfectly timed. It read: do you have an obscure dream that you hope to accomplish?

I thought about it; I know that at one point in my life, I had a list of all these perceived absurdities that I had to accomplish, because I'm afraid that I'll have an untimely death and an unfulfilled life. Growing up, it took so long to actually grasp the reality of human mortality. Most kids live as though they're invincible; like nothing can harm us because we are kids and if anything happens, Superman will come flying down to the rescue! I wasn't that kid, and I feel like I grew in reverse. When I was young, I was self-conscious and reflective, a dreamer with little action. It took longer than I'd have liked for me to realize this is all we have. And by the time I had, I had misplaced a lot of my delightful, obscure dreams.

I've been reflecting since I got the message. Reflecting about some of the dreams I've never let go. And about the ones that got lost in the wind. And about my good friend. I like to do my own little sashay to the boom-boom-clap-ting in my head, and for that people find me extreme. Between my friend and I, though, she is the most pure and fantastic form of extremism when it comes to chasing dreams. Our first year of college, she jumped a train and I photographed it. She decided she wanted to be a volunteer firefighter. Also an EMT. Also pose nude for artists to paint. I had surgery my third year of college, and she drove hours to see me get better. On another occasion, and since I transferred to a college at the beach, she decided that she wanted to jump in the ocean nude. It was March.

I'll be working on my list of dreams, but I think the most quiet obscure dream I've had for sometime is to invoke the bits of her fearless spirit that are buried some where deep down.

I'm curious to hear the obscure dreams of others. Let's accomplish them.

Wow! A LOT Has Been Going On!

2010-08-06T22:53:00.003-04:00

So much has been going on in the last couple of days and it's been quite remarkable. I think I'm finally settled in the new place (and finally have internet access so I'm back in the bloggin' business!), and I've been running around crazily for weeks!

A few great things though! I suppose the first of really important things happening was the decision by the CA court that Prop 8 is unconstitutional! That's a big deal, and after I read through the ruling, I was (1) ecstatic that there are rational individuals in positions to make important decisions (I'd given up hope for sometime) and (2) disturbed that it even required a hearing -- especially with the pro-prop-8ers and their poor case. I mean, seriously? Reading through the lengthy court document made me disappointed in humanity -- especially when religious institutions throw the "they can be gay in private but not in public -- for the sake for the kids!" argument into our contemporary 2010, freedom-of (and freedom from) religion American society. What a headache it is to know that people still exist with so much irrational hatred (and think that it's totally okay and justifiable!).

The "Ground Zero Mosque" (and I the only one offended by the actual name?) has been approved. And good on them. All Muslims aren't "terrorists". It really amazes me that people are so worked up about this mosque. I saw protesters on the news the other day holding signs that said something to the effect of "building a mosque at ground zero is like building a Hitler statue at Auschwitz". Seriously? Is it? That's a little ridiculous and you can't systemically oppress another religious group's practice of their faith because of your own supremacist views. Period. Oh, and I'm a nontheist. So, yeah.

Then there's that whole immigration thing in Arizona. Still and still. I don't have a comment prepared.

I suppose that's all I have for now! Cheers, and have a happy weekend!

Be Righteous.

Elephant by Damien Rice

2010-08-01T18:07:00.000-04:00

For the Privileged

2010-07-27T19:37:00.003-04:00

A few days ago I transitioned from my old-new-home back down to my new-home-in-my-old-city. I lugged boxes around in 100-degree weather like the wonder woman I tend to be, and when I got down for a break, I reviewed a message from a concerned male acquaintance asking how he as a recipient of privilege (as a male) could move beyond that privilege to aide in change and revolution.

Instantly, with much sincerity and love, I applauded his efforts at acknowledging himself as a recipient of privilege on the basis of his maleness - and in comparison with Black females alone. It has been my experience that getting men of color to acknowledge privilege is a difficult task. The thing that is important to remember is that we are not only one thing; we do not only have to be one thing. The problem that a lot of people have with Black women and feminism/womanism/women's rights is that these ideas are centred around the oppression faced as women, versus the oppression on fronts of our color. Unfortunately for women of color, racial and gender-based oppression can come both separately and together. Also, while men of color (among other classifications) are discriminated against as a result of their color, they are often give special bias as a result of their maleness - hence, "privilege." My answer to moving beyond privilege is that acknowledging it is the best way to start. I mean, if you know you're in a privileged class in our ~~shitty~~ socially constructed hierarchy, then the best thing you can do initially is to acknowledge the privilege and educate other members of your group who don't identify as privileged understand what privilege is and the role that it plays in our society - both historically and in a contemporary context.

The next question, though, was this: if he (and others) know and can acknowledge that there is a disparity in the treatment of men and women, white people and persons of color, the rich and the poor -- what is their incentive for evening out the playing field?

This question always reminds me of those using-religion-to-justify-morality statements; surely someone who is able to acknowledge and fully understand how they have benefited by privilege, in a society that allows the construction of social and systemic inequality on the basis of any characteristic they do not control, should feel for the disadvantaged on want to change it just on that basis, right? Surely there should be no incentive for doing the right thing beyond their own conscience and consciousness, right? I don't know the answer. I don't know that there is an incentive beyond feeling for the those who are disadvantaged and oppressed in a modern and allegedly intellectually advanced era.

Be Righteous.

Also, for more posts on privilege, click here to a post I wrote a while back. It has links to some good work done on acknowledging male privilege in the Black community.

...Speaking of Whoopi

2010-07-14T23:06:00.005-04:00

Admittedly, I have to sometimes take breaks from technology and the news in order to keep myself from going crazy. I have an intense (sometimes read: serious) personality a lot of times, and that doesn't make me unhappy. I care about issues to the point of exhaust; and it's because I also act on these issues. I get so mentally involved in issues, and for that reason, a joke - that is parody and not satire - at the interest in any of the issues and injustices that I am so involved in protesting is more damaging, in my opinion, than the humor that may be in it.

At any rate, in an effort to work on my zen and create an ambiance, I'm goofing off on facebook for a bit yesterday - just after reacting to Whoopi Goldberg's "he-has-black-friends-so-he-isnt-racist" defense - and noticed that good friend of mine made an inappropriate joke in reference to the situation. And the joke made it to facebook, twitter, and eventually a variation of it made the blog. Ready?

C'mon Whoopi, sure Mel Gibson isn't racist; you don't have to worry about being raped by a pack of niggers; you look like a man.

Well, okay. I realize that the comment was meant to be taken lightly but my problem with these comments is this: of the many issues with sexual abuse and domestic violence, major issues that many victims deal with are feelings of guilt (like they may have perpetuated the assault) and feelings of low self-worth which could stem from a number of things, including physical appearance. Moreover, the comment speaks to standards of beauty and maintains the myth that rape is about sexual attraction and desire.

I would not be true to my character if I didn't say anything, even to my good friend and mentor (smile). I'm not into blog-wars ~~as I don't have enough readers for that anyway~~, so I don't want people to get me wrong and believe that that's the point of any of this.

While the joke was at the expense of Whoopi, the words of the joke say something to people who believe that people who "look like a man" (or unattractive people, or people who have been told they are physically worthless and have internalized that abuse) cannot or have not been abused. It appears to support a myth of people who are ill-informed and do not know better - even if it is a joke. Having worked on the side of victims, this is a trend that is seriously furthered by law enforcement, nurses, and anybody who isn't fully aware and sympathetic to the dynamics of rape. Period. (Ironically, this theme is illustrated to perfection in "The Color Purple")

And while I understand that there has to be a silver lining, and there has to be some sort of light in this sick, sad, dark world of ours, I'm not entirely certain that any joke sending that sort of message (about the rape of a woman who "looks like a man", not the pack of niggers) is the something that I can take lightly. This isn't about an individual, but those comments and attitudes have to die. Seriously.

Would it be Whoopi Goldberg-esque of me to point out that this person doesn't hate women, ugly people, or rape victims, but that it was a stupid comment? Shrug. This isn't to defend Whoopi's disillusionment, but one has to wonder how to defend the character of a person who makes stupid comments. I'm not taking it personally, again this isn't about a person, but an idea. A whole set of ideas that need to end.

Be righteous.

It was also kind of a jackass thing to add a faux apology in small print, too..#justsayin.

Way to Go, Whoopi.

2010-07-14T22:15:00.006-04:00

I'd like to take the time right now to discuss two separate, but loosely connected issues. As a matter of fact, I will takcle the initial issue in this post and then discuss the separate issue in a post after this one. Ready? Okay!

Whoopi Goldberg. I suppose I should note, for every person incapable of picking up on the subtlety in my sardonic wit, that there is nothing serious in the title of this post.

In 1993, Whoopi Goldberg defended Ted Danson's performing in Blackface. While I don't necessarily remember this event specifically (or caring; I was a kid and this was just before I was tainted by the horrors of the real world), I do remember my catching wind of it when I was a bit more mature and saying "hmm, maybe I shouldn't be supporting someone who thinks that this is okay; whether it's intended to be offensive doesn't really take away from the fact that..it kinda is."

In 2009, I remember officially decided no longer to support Whoopi, as much as I love her (and as beautiful as I think she is - agree or not, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I've always thought she was physically intriguing. Fuck conventionalism). This was because she decided to discuss on The View how Roman Polanski's sexual encounter with a 13 year old kid, who was also under the influence notthatitmatters, was not rape-rape. I remember being outraged and saying aloud, several times, shame on you, Whoopi. Shame on you.

In 2010, I am even more disgusted with Whoopi, after acting as a free-standing character witness for Mel Gibson after his infamous bigoted, misogynistic tirade days ago. Per Whoopi:

"I know Mel, and I know he's not a racist...I have had a long friendship with Mel. You can say he's being a bonehead, but I can't sit and say that he's a racist having spent time with him in my house with my kids. I don't like what he's done, make no mistake."

Well, that's just great Whoopi. I made this point the other day when I was in a heated discussion with a perfect stranger about making anti-gay, anti-black-anti-woman, bigoted comments; how can you expect these issues to be taken seriously if you attempt to defend a person's (alleged, previous) character? Even the most horrible of people have to maintain a social life. How many times have we heard racists say, "I'm not a racist, I have Black friends!" What about homophobes saying, "I don't hate gay people, I know plenty of them!" Or even the friends and family members of domestic violence abusers saying, "my baby would never do anything like that!"

Exactly. Shame on you, Whoopi.

I can't say that I expected more, but she should stop refrain from commenting on issues regarding her famous friends. She's beginning to sound like a whoopie cushion. Hey, I get one corny joke per day.

Small Victories: Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani

2010-07-11T18:16:00.005-04:00

Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani will not be executed by stoning for adultery. She's an Iranian mother of two and was set to face stoning - any day now - after her 2006 conviction of adultery. Yes, folks, adultery. What a relief; all the petitions and global awareness raised by people and organizations to stand against death by stoning. Phew, what a relief! Right?

Wrong! Why is this wrong? Because Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani still faces the death penalty for adultery. And while anything that isn't stoning is a lot more a humane way to go, especially in terms of execution for wrongdoing...the death penalty? For adultery? Really?

I'm not saying that "adultery", in all of its usual heavily religious contexts, is not wrong. That isn't what I'm saying, but my opinion on adultery is not what's important. The two things that strike me as the major issues are: the obvious issue that has been a main stressor internationally is the cruel and unusual nature of stoning. and the other is the fact the law is based on the indoctrition of a specific religious text as a means to make people submit to this system.

For those of you who do not know at stoning consists of (as if the above image is not graphic enough) picture this: a person is buried in sand. If it is a man, they are buried to their waist; if a woman, she is buried to her chest area. And members of the crowd, the societal jury of your peers, pummel stones at you until you are bludgeoned to death. Literally, this is a stoning. This is a cruel and unusual punishment for any crime. Keep in mind, though, that I (and my few readers) are reading from an American perspective where "cruel and unusual" means that the punishment exceeds the severity of the crime. I'm not certain that cruel and unusual exists in Iran (and that is an honest statement; not my normal, everyday sarcasm and wit). However, I can think of few things that would make me think 'hmmm, you should be stoned for that. The fact that this form of punishment is allowed any where makes me sick to my stomach and confirms frustration with the lack of progress humanity has made. Nothing warrants that form of punishment.

The major issue for me, though, is the fact Iran, which is a country that bases it's legal code on sharia - the laws of god as interpreted by Islam - is a really troubling piece of this equation that is being overlooked. When will people learn that the marriage of politics and religion is one of the ultimate stains on any culture's progress? Thank goodness we're in America, where there is separation of church and state, right? Right?(that was my normal, everyday sarcasm.)

In a drive-by discussion on this situation with a friend of mine the other day, and explaining my issues with the situation, less my opinion on adultery, he hit me with the "moral behavior is not religious" bullet, even though he is a religious subscriber himself. But you know, I agree with that and that's the point that I attempt to hit believers with: moral behavior is not religious. However, don't ever say that if you've also decided that you don't "agree" with same sex marriage, a woman's right to choose, or understand that this issue is an issue where there is an intentional relationship between the Iranian judicial system and the religion of the overwhelming majority. And don't hit me with that "proud to be an American" shit when adultery is punishable by criminal law in some US states as well. And while this is not even necessarily as much about the death penalty as it is the imbalance in "crime" and punishment, I'll just say that we also execute people in the US. Your ideas sound progressive enough aloud; the US has separation of church and state on paper. But still, in a lot of social aspects, we do not. #justsayin

Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani's life is ending because she committed adultery with two men while being married. And this is a human being. She is a mother of two. Set to be killed for having two extra marital affairs while her husband was alive; and your thoughts on whether or not adultery is right are meaningless because religious law has already overruled Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani's right to live and her children's right to have a mother. And I truly hope that the advocates against her being stoned, including myself, will continue speaking out about the fact that she is being executed any day now. P l e a s e, do your part and increase awareness at the very least.

Be Righteous.

Revolutionary but Gangsta Grillz (not much of) a review!

2010-07-05T14:39:00.004-04:00

I wanted to take some time to do a full review the new mixtape by Dead Prez, entitled "Revolutonary but Gangsta Grillz", but I'm having a difficult time finding enough direction to spit it out. However, I do have three favorite songs that I just love. The general opinion I've heard from people who aren't too far into it is that it isn't typical of Dead Prez because they're trying to blend and fit in with what's trendy. That's not what they are about, but I don't think that I see it as a loss to their original style or message; instead, I think that they're trying to reach the new "hip-pop" generation by putting this out there and I'm not gonna lie, I love that I was able to sit my 12 year old cousin down and say "listen to this song, it's about natural-hair girls!" It's really worth a listen. The mixtape is downloadable for free-99 on a their website! No excuse to let this one pass you by!

The track listing is as follows:

1. "Intro" – 0:33
2. "Far From Over" – 3:36
* Samples from "Over" by Drake
3. "Soul Power" – 3:00
4. "Exhibit M" – 1:45
5. "The Game Is A Battlefield" – 3:21
6. "Malcolm, Garvey, Huey" feat. Divine – 4:39
* Samples from "Beamer, Benz Or Bentley" by Lloyd Banks
* Includes a speech from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
7. "The Beauty Witin" – 3:06
* Samples from "Nothin' On You" by B.o.B.
* Released on Mother's Day, May 9, 2010 as dedication to the natural beauty of black women
8. "KRS-One Speaks" – 0:18
9. "The Movement" – 1:59
10. "Gotta Luv It" – 2:05
11. "Never Turn My Back" – 3:39
12. "Don't Waste It" – 2:52
* Samples from "Wasted" by Gucci Mane[2]
13. "Lil Ghetto Boy$" – 3:02
* Samples from "Lil' Ghetto Boys" by Dr. Dre
14. "Overdose" – 3:13
15. "Fear Not The Revolution" – 2:37
16. "Let The People Be Heard" feat. Estelle – 3:29
17. "RBG 'Til I Die" feat. Zayd Malik - 3:57
18. "Hood News/Struggle Like Us" – 1:52
* Samples from "Swagga Like Us" by T.I. and Jay-Z
19. "The G In Me" feat. Mikeflo - 3:51

And now for my favorite songs, complete with a little blurb on why I enjoy 'em:

I love that the mixtape opened with this song because Drake (from whom the beat of this song is taken) is the newest cancer - every where you turn, you see Jimmy from DeGrassi rapping with Lil Wayne and Young Money and you can't help but wonder 'isn't he Canadian? Where'd his "rap voice" come from?

This song is my absolute favorite! I actually heard this song a few months ago, and apparently, Dead Prez released it on Mother's Day. I love it; everything about this song is perfect to me and I think it's important that there is music and pop(-ish) music that acknowledges the natural beauty of Black characteristics. This is a beautiful and important thing because historically, we were taught to hate ourselves (ask Malcolm...) and while I don't care who's natural and who isn't, it's important for young girls and women to hear that it's okay to be yourself - you're beautiful.

Malcolm, Garvey, Huey. I love this song. I mean, as it is, the "Beamer, Benz and Bentley" song is kind of a "banger", and I love this much better than the original. Besides that, the mixtape has speeches from the aforementioned leaders (and MLK), and it even has a snippet from "A Love Supreme"!

Anyway, again, check it out. It's FREE, and I really enjoyed it!

Be Righteous.

What, to the Slave, is the Fourth of July?

2010-07-04T01:09:00.007-04:00

I posted a snippet of this speech in a previous post written about Juneteenth and Black independence. On Independence Day in 1852, Frederick Douglass delivered the speech "What, to the slave, is the Fourth of July", which discussed the hypocrisy of the country celebrating liberation from one nation while enslaving human beings in their own.

I often quote this speech because it truly illustrates so many themes, including the application of certain moral standards where they affect the interest of the person or party making the judgments; while this speech is my main reason for not supporting American Independence Day, these themes can be applied to our government in many other ways today. The contemporary political climate for many Americans is a systemically oppressive and socially enslaving reality. This has to change. We have to change.

Below is the speech in its entirety. I know that it may be lengthy, but my "Independence Day" ritual is to read and reflect upon it. The speech does speak about the "Christian god", but understand that this idea was/still is the socially expected norm during that time. I'm not ~~that~~ anti-American; America as a nation, gained its independence from the British on July 4, 1776. However, the truth of the matter is that there were many people, even beyond slaves, that were looked down upon and treated unfairly. Many people may ask why the majority of Blacks in America even identify with the enslaved if they are unable to trace their roots directly back to slavery. I'll say this: even if you were not enslaved (or if you do not know whether or not your ancestors were), we are bound by more than our skin color; as a result of slavery, and eventually the development of segregation and Jim Crow, we are still at a systematic disadvantage as a result of how we have traditionally been viewed as a result of our skin color. Other disadvantaged groups where these ideas apply include, but are not limited to: the LGBTQ community, women, mentally ill, and non-Christians.

Fellow citizens, pardon me, and allow me to ask, why am I called upon to speak here today? What have I or those I represent to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? And am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits, and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?

Would to God, both for your sakes and ours, that an affirmative answer could be truthfully returned to these questions. Then would my task be light, and my burden easy and delightful. For who is there so cold that a nation's sympathy could not warm him? Who so obdurate and dead to the claims of gratitude, that would not thankfully acknowledge such priceless benefits? Who so stolid and selfish that would not give his voice to swell the hallelujahs of a nation's jubilee, when the chains of servitude had been torn from his limbs? I am not that man. In a case like that, the dumb might eloquently speak, and the "lame man leap as an hart."

But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of this glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you this day rejoice are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity, and independence bequeathed by your fathers is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought life and healing to you has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak today? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you, that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation (Babylon) whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrecoverable ruin.

Fellow citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions, whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are today rendered more intolerable by the jubilant shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, "may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!"

To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs and to chime in with the popular theme would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world.

My subject, then, fellow citizens, is "American Slavery." I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave's point of view. Standing here, identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this Fourth of July.

Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity, which is outraged, in the name of liberty, which is fettered, in the name of the Constitution and the Bible, which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery -- the great sin and shame of America! "I will not equivocate - I will not excuse." I will use the severest language I can command, and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slave-holder, shall not confess to be right and just.

But I fancy I hear some of my audience say it is just in this circumstance that you and your brother Abolitionists fail to make a favorable impression on the public mind. Would you argue more and denounce less, would you persuade more and rebuke less, your cause would be much more likely to succeed. But, I submit, where all is plain there is nothing to be argued. What point in the anti-slavery creed would you have me argue? On what branch of the subject do the people of this country need light? Must I undertake to prove that the slave is a man? That point is conceded already. Nobody doubts it. The slave-holders themselves acknowledge it in the enactment of laws for their government. They acknowledge it when they punish disobedience on the part of the slave. There are seventy-two crimes in the State of Virginia, which, if committed by a black man (no matter how ignorant he be), subject him to the punishment of death; while only two of these same crimes will subject a white man to like punishment.

What is this but the acknowledgment that the slave is a moral, intellectual, and responsible being? The manhood of the slave is conceded. It is admitted in the fact that Southern statute books are covered with enactments, forbidding, under severe fines and penalties, the teaching of the slave to read and write. When you can point to any such laws in reference to the beasts of the field, then I may consent to argue the manhood of the slave. When the dogs in your streets, when the fowls of the air, when the cattle on your hills, when the fish of the sea, and the reptiles that crawl, shall be unable to distinguish the slave from a brute, then I will argue with you that the slave is a man!

For the present it is enough to affirm the equal manhood of the Negro race. Is it not astonishing that, while we are plowing, planting, and reaping, using all kinds of mechanical tools, erecting houses, constructing bridges, building ships, working in metals of brass, iron, copper, silver, and gold; that while we are reading, writing, and ciphering, acting as clerks, merchants, and secretaries, having among us lawyers, doctors, ministers, poets, authors, editors, orators, and teachers; that we are engaged in all the enterprises common to other men -- digging gold in California, capturing the whale in the Pacific, feeding sheep and cattle on the hillside, living, moving, acting, thinking, planning, living in families as husbands, wives, and children, and above all, confessing and worshipping the Christian God, and looking hopefully for life and immortality beyond the grave -- we are called upon to prove that we are men?

Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? That he is the rightful owner of his own body? You have already declared it. Must I argue the wrongfulness of slavery? Is that a question for republicans? Is it to be settled by the rules of logic and argumentation, as a matter beset with great difficulty, involving a doubtful application of the principle of justice, hard to understand? How should I look today in the presence of Americans, dividing and subdividing a discourse, to show that men have a natural right to freedom, speaking of it relatively and positively, negatively and affirmatively? To do so would be to make myself ridiculous, and to offer an insult to your understanding. There is not a man beneath the canopy of heaven who does not know that slavery is wrong for him.

What! Am I to argue that it is wrong to make men brutes, to rob them of their liberty, to work them without wages, to keep them ignorant of their relations to their fellow men, to beat them with sticks, to flay their flesh with the lash, to load their limbs with irons, to hunt them with dogs, to sell them at auction, to sunder their families, to knock out their teeth, to burn their flesh, to starve them into obedience and submission to their masters? Must I argue that a system thus marked with blood and stained with pollution is wrong? No - I will not. I have better employment for my time and strength than such arguments would imply.

What, then, remains to be argued? Is it that slavery is not divine; that God did not establish it; that our doctors of divinity are mistaken? There is blasphemy in the thought. That which is inhuman cannot be divine. Who can reason on such a proposition? They that can, may - I cannot. The time for such argument is past.

At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. Oh! had I the ability, and could I reach the nation's ear, I would today pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and its crimes against God and man must be denounced.

What to the American slave is your Fourth of July? I answer, a day that reveals to him more than all other days of the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mock; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy - a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation of the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of these United States at this very hour.

Go search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the Old World, travel through South America, search out every abuse and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival.

Frederick Douglass - July 4, 1852

Please enjoy your family time, and if you are drinking - do so safely!

Be Righteous.

Mel Gibson's Rant: More Than The N-Word

2010-07-02T04:18:00.008-04:00

Apparently, Mel Gibson has been recorded on tape going off on the mother of his infant saying the following:

"You're an embarrassment to me. You look like a fucking pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of niggers, it will be your fault."

"How dare you act like such a bitch when I have been so fucking nice."

"I am going to come and burn the fucking house down...but you will blow me first."

Amazing. The blog world has majorly been focusing on the fact that he used the n-word, which is also amazing to me. He went on a tirade and threw the ugliest racially offensive in the mix. I understand the outrage of his usage of the n-word. As a matter of fact, I've oftened joked(?)/wondered if white people say the n-word if they're mad enough. The rant was sickening. Yet, the entire tirade in and of itself is absolutely repulsive.

The hope or insinuation that any person is raped is disgusting; and silently or very loudly and angrily expressing that the fulfillment of another person being raped would be their own fault is plain despicable. And then, threatening violence (in burning the house down) but saying that your significant other will perform oral sex on you before you do such a thing makes you a perpetrator of rape; I'm quite sure that if she was forced into such a situation, she would be able to press rape charges because the act was performed under coercion and threats.

Further, look at this snippet of the initial quote:
..if you get raped by a pack of niggers..
So naturally, as if any part of this is acceptable at all, the grouping of "rape" and the n-word grouped together says much more than is written: it speaks to a historical depiction of Black males in American society. The black beast rapist is an image that was created by white society to maintain both slavery, and then segregation, and it was used to define the racial and gender social structure in America. This is not to say that some Black men do not rape; yet, when I see the association of Black men with (interracial) rape, I immediately get imagery of lynchings in the South and the desparities in convictions and punishment where interracial alleged sex crimes occur.

Black women aren't the only ones with image issues; Black men have been depicted in several different ways, including brutes, rapists, Nats and Toms, as America developed and socially evolved. Unfortunately, just as some Black women feel the need to behave a certain way, feeding into the jezebel stereotype, Black men are feeling their way in terms of the development of social masculinity. Mel Gibson's comments illustrates an uncaring and expectation that Black men are nothing more than predators.

...and you probably thought that Matt and Trey's depiction of Mel was exaggerated!

Be Righteous.

EDIT: also, Mel's usage of the word "pack" as in "pack of niggers" equates Black males to animals. I kinda hinted at that, but did not spell it out, and it's important to the overall context of the post.
EDIT: 7/10/10 below is the actual audio.

Bamboozled! Chris Brown and aficionados

2010-07-02T02:06:00.003-04:00

You know, I was really fighting the feeling; I was not interested in supplementing the blog world and mainstream media's recent explosion of reporting on Chris Brown and the BET awards. As a matter of fact, I was certain that my computer, itself, would literally explode because the internet must be exhausted with the everyone having an opinion on Chris's "breakdown" at the award show. I refused to have anything to do with the BET Awards early on; I was on twitter and threatened to unfollow the bulk of my friends for tweeting about the awards. And I got sucked in -- it began with my flipping back and forth and somehow, forth stopped on the awards on a network that I am sure the Black community should not be in support of. Back in the day, Black E~~mbarrasment~~ntertainment Television actually had some positive aspects to it and one day, poof! No more. It's sole output has been degrading and exploitative and for that reason, I try my best to avoid anything related to the network. Personally, this upsets me because I believe in supporting Black business because we cannot expect the success of our own if we lack faith and support; yet, it directly conflicts with my own personal beliefs about the worth and strengths of the Black community to do so in this particular instance. But, alas, I was sucked in. I'll admit to you this: I'm disappointed in myself for giving in.

It was nothing more than I expected it to be: a bad car accident that you just could not look away from. Right up to Chris Brown's tribute to Michael Jackson. Sure, the award show had its high points, relative to the rest of the show. But, oh..Chris Brown.

If, by chance, you've been living under a rock without access to the television or internet, here's what happened in my home (and during Chris Brown's performance):
I'm stretched out across the couch, glued to the tube. I have my blackberry in hand and when Chris Brown began dancing, I was messaging my best friend about what a skilled dancer he is. I was not surprised that BET permitted him to perform since he was disallowed at many events last year. I got a little bored with the transition of his performing, looked down at all of the tweets and it sounded like my audio was screwed up on the tv. Confused, I look up, to see Chris Brown doubled over, "crying".

Now, I'm sure that my readers (and even non-readers) can guess my reaction: staged, phony, publicity stunt to win his way back into the hearts and minds of those who had decided not to support him. Now, I'll tell you this: the rational individuals who have chosen not to support the brother any more are probably the ones who did not support his music initially because I know several teenage girls that have rallied behind him immediately after his assault on Rihanna, his court trial and conviction, his internet "apologies", his colorist and degrading comments toward blogger Sandra Rose, the creation of #teambreezy on twitter (which, further invited the public into the ugly battle between he and Rihanna, causing a similar twitter trend on her behalf), the ranting on twitter about certain stores not marketing his music, and most recently the UK taking a stand and not allowing him into the country to tour. And from the very beginning, there was the victim blaming: "she gave him an STD", "she hit him first", "you're a hater", et al. And you know what? He was convicted, he served his sentence, and my issue with Chris Brown is not solely an issue with Chris Brown.

Having direct experiences with victims and perpetrators of relationship violence and also having done the bulk of my research on issues of sexual/relationship violence within the Black community, there are issues with domestic violence. One major issue that does not get as much attention as it should is the social consequences as they relate to the abuser. In fact, I'm sure that some of you may have released a mental gasp at my referring to Chris as an "abuser"; I've had grown women and men ask me to not refer to him as such because, in their own rationale, "abuse" dictates something long term and ongoing. This is silly because I'll tell you this - domestic violence agencies and reserachers refer to the perpetrator of violence, whether it happened once or several times, as abusers.

This is a prime example of a major problem. Why is Chris Brown - the celebrity that you do not know - an exception to what is common and logical in examining relationship violence? Chris Brown does not know me personally, and as such, he does not owe me a personal apology. He does not owe his fans a personal apology, because they have been excusing his behavior from the beginning of his socially perceived fall from grace. I also am not aware of whether or not he is continuing counseling. Chris Brown as a person and individual is not the entire problem with Chris Brown.

As a celebrity, he has been placed on a pedastol and, as a result, demands that his fans continually support him - despite acknowledging his wrong doing. The fans and the celebrity feed into one another; you fans, you've told Chris Brown who and what he should be and, like a minstrel show, he has given you everything that you've craved and applauded, both before and after his assault on Rihanna. This is about maintaining an image. Yet, what are the reasons that his behavior has been excused besides the above hater-isms?
Besides hearing "he didn't hit you/she asked for it", a major reason that, within the Black community, relationship violence is so far underreported and overlooked is because of a perceived necessity for racial solidarity above all else. This is also a major reason that women's rights within the Black community is taken as a sour flavor - because we shouldn't be focused on the disparities of hurt and injustice that come from within because we are a family. As a matter of fact, the day after the award show, I turned the radio off because I heard someone on the radio saying, "we can't just let one of our own..."; seriously. The next day, 106 and Park dedicated the show to Chris Brown, saying he's back. The blogworld has referred to his performance as a redemption song. For crying out loud, the kid won an award that very night. Just like that...all is forgiven in social media's world.

It is unreasonable that as a community of people, we turn our backs and leave a celebrity or non-celebrity perpetrator of relationship violence to fend for him/herself. Yet to continually support their career without blinking an eye and acknowledging, as fans, that their behavior is completely unacceptable in any form of society, is also not a reasonable answer. This isn't about anyone giving their lives to whatever-higher-power you may or may not believe to be true. Instead of spending so much time defending, rationalizing, and supporting their actions, though, we should be encouraging them toward a healthy lifestyle as examples to our young children. If you want the Black community to remain unified, why not move it along in a healthy and reasonable light?

What I don't want is for people to say "he/she is one of our own and therefore, we cannot do ______". That's silly to me. Chris Brown (and others) is a human being that fans and supportors of his entertainment have made into an image, and if you choose to support him (or others), do so at the best interest of the community and not in the best interest of the image that you want for him. The entire Chris Brown-Rihanna situation was higher profile than other relationship violence because of their celebridom and as such, was the perfect opportunity to engage in dialogue, as a community, about relationship violence and unhealthy behaviors. Yet instead, every main social networking outlet that I find young Black people on (mediatakeout, twitter, facebook) are filled with children and adolescents ignoring the abuse and excusing relationship abuse.

The fact of the matter is this: women are physically and sexually abused by their partners every single day. And many cases do not even make it to court because, as a result of "real life" apologists and defenders of abuse, women stay in these relationships. The same can be said for women abusing men (though there is not as much research to prove), and homosexual relationships. I've encountered people who think twice at celebrity relationship violence but are black and white about "real life" violence, and there are also the same types of people, besides the victim, that defend the actions of the abuser and blame the abused. The violence will not stop if the community is unwilling to, not only acknowledge wrongdoing and abusive relationships of celebrities as such but also, apply our standards of thinking in a universal manner and teach young children and adults what is acceptable and what is not.

I'll admit that I feel repetitive in that this post is nearly identical to my other Chris Brown-Rihanna/relationship violence post. I am not of the opinion that abusive relationships are private matters; if we are unwilling to speak out, then we can never expect any improvement. Teach the youth - including Chris Brown and other celebrities - that violent relationships are never acceptable, instead of creating images of what they should be based on your salivating as fans or supporters.

Be Righteous. And watch Bamboozled..those themes don't just apply to racial identity and entertainment.

The Root of the Problem

2010-07-02T01:26:00.011-04:00

I submitted this post a few days ago to another blog; in the event that it is posted, I'll be sure to attach a link!

Initially, I wanted to be outraged at "The Health Care Bill Should Tax Weaves Like It Taxes Tanning", an blurb written by Cord Jefferson of The Root. Here's why: 2010 is the year of scrutiny for Black women. We've been under a perpetual magnifying glass; the blog world and mainstream media have been studying Black women, like a new species that has gone from the wild to domestic life in recent years. We have become a major topic of discussion for makeshift anthropologists who are interested in our lifestyles, mating practices, relationships and income. Not to discredit the social sciences, but news reporters and blog writers are not sociologists and the much focused on question of "why are you successful Black women single" has been given so much attention in 2010 alone that is has become disgusting.

The aforementioned post at The Root was not that, though. As a matter of fact, I found myself nodding in agreement instead of shaking with outrage at the author's rationale. In short, Cord Jefferson proposes, in a tone that mixes logic with a bit of parody, that since the health care bill has recently added a tax to tanning because of its medically unhealthy consequences (otherwise known as cancer), it should follow that fake hair is also taxed for the same reasons. This may sound a little offputting at first; after all, the use fake hair does not cause cancer or other medical repurcussions...does it? Well, I don't have the answer to that, but I will say that the article uses weaves as an example to identify more than it's really saying: the chemicals and other things that Black women use in our hair are unhealthy for us. This isn't simply an attack on relaxers, which is also why I'm not convinced that it is solely an attack on Black women more than it is an attempt to identify that our self-image needs adjusting. There are photos all over the web of women and girls that have had allergic reactions to relaxers, hair color, texturizers, and other chemicals that we plaster ourselves with to adjust the way that the world sees us, and to boost the way that we see ourselves. Some allergic reactions are so severe that they do, in fact, require medical attention and while the dermatological effects may not be as expensive or long term as cancer treatments, they are parallel experiences. White women, too, suffer from body image issues which is one reason for unhealthy behaviors that may just cause cancer. Equally, Black women participate in other unhealthy behaviors that, similarly to white women's issues, have been recycled and evolved over time. That is not to say that we do not suffer a longer, more severe systematic form of psychological oppression simply based on our perception of beauty; rather, it is hitting on just that.

Jefferson pulls examples from Tyra to Beyonce, and even posts a recent picture that hit the web of Naomi Campbell's major hair loss. Even so, the most important thing brought out in this post is the following sentence:

Perhaps some of the money saved could even go toward things like social welfare programs designed to help young black girls stop fetishizing straight blonde hair in the first place.

This is the bottom line of it all: image. While the author did not go in great depth about the historical contexts and the evolution of how Black women view themselves, consciously or subconsciously, I gathered that this was a light hearted attempt for a man to speak out about Black women's body image issues and, in my opinion, it did what it was supposed to do. Disgusted, irritated, confused or, like myself, satisfied with the article, it was meant to create a dialogue amongst ourselves. Black men might just be paying attention to our behaviors, and that makes me wonder if we are giving as much thought to our rituals as some other people may be. As a self-identifying Black feminist/womanist/women's rights activist, there are so many battles that Black women face in our macro- and micro-societies; it's just as important to channel some sort of energy within ourselves to reflect and understand the traditions that we recycle and identify whether or not the real root of the problem is worth defending.

Be Righteous.

Suicide Prevention Song

2010-06-26T14:57:00.002-04:00

I found this video to be just a little graphic, but I enjoyed the song. Certain issues are avoided in discussing within the Black community, and I feel like suicide is a very important issue that tends to be overlooked. Hope that this helps someone; even if you aren't going through a tough time, share it with someone who may be. Note: I do not own any rights to this video.
Be Righteous

Vagina Dentata (nom nom nom)

2010-06-24T13:04:00.006-04:00

In fairness, I'll warn you that this post is a bit graphic and sensitive. There may be triggers or even a major level of discomfort provided in this post. It isn't exactly pretty, and I'd warn you to proceed with caution.

When I was in college (just a couple years ago), my best guy friend was a film major. Some people may express that I haven't seen many films (but I haaaave), but I do love flicks. One night, my good friend and I were hanging out and we ordered a pizza and decided to watch a movie called "Teeth" - an indy horror flick crossed with a little black comedy. While he spent much of the film utterly terrified, I just loved it. Roll tape!

Scared yet? This poor young girl was involved in some church ~~cult~~ group and her boyfriend, also a member of the abstinence only squad, took her to a cave in whatever bum cluck town they were in and tried to rape her. And her vagina bit his penis off. And throughout the movie, various males attempt taking advantage of her and suffer the same fate, and the poor girl - a virgin at that - cannot figure out what's wrong with her. Hey, we were all a little confused our first times, right?

A little later in real life, there were talks of developing a condom that would simulate vagina dentata to a less than lethal extent, but the idea floated and then disappeared. Until 2010: the year of Rape-aXe - a female condom type device that is inserted in the vagina and ~~bites~~ grasps on the rapists penis in a painful, but again non-lethal, way.

I know what you're thinking: with all the pro-woman propaganda I share on my blog and in real life, I'm bound to be pro-anything-to-take-the-dicks-off-of-men, right? Well, surprise surprise! I find this device and its concept to be problematic; yes, seriously! Blind-sided you, eh?

While I understand all those cute little preventative techniques they teach young college girls that's supposed to prevent them from being raped, we know that the majority of rapes are acquaintance rapes. If women (and men, even) felt it necessary to protect themselves around the people that they are familiar with, there would be a lot fewer acquaintance rapes. And, on that same note, if women (because there is only a female version of this device available) are preparing themselves to be nervous and on pins and needles at every turn awaiting a blitz by a total stranger, the chances of that happening are slim which makes the necessity for the device illogical in that regard.

As I understand from the illustrations, the device is identified as a "condom" but it works a bit more solidly, like, say, a diaphragm. So this condom-diaphragm hybrid sits in a lady's vagina as she awaits a sexual act against her. Does anybody not see anything wrong with the fear factor? And beyond that, who tested this? What if it doesn't work correctly and hurts the woman, or doesn't work against the perpetrator?

This part could get graphic; consider the previous statement your warning!
So, a woman is being raped by a man. He goes in and out, but in the "out" action, this device chomps down on his man parts, right? This is painful. Is this just painful enough to stun the perpetrator into whatthefuckjusthappenedIgottagetouttahere? Or is it more like holyshitthathurtandIcan'tMOVE? If it's the latter, how is a potential victim to call the police or get to a safe place with a rapist laying on top of her?

Also, I'm very worried about the potential misuse and abuse of the device; what's to say that there is not a woman who is attempting to teach her cheating boyfriend a lesson? Yes, I'm sure it would be assault. I'm also sure, though, that it creates another dynamic to victimization of sorts. I'm not saying that majority of women would do something like this; I'm not attempting to turn my back on rape victims or the act. I am saying, though, that there are quite a few screwed up individuals in the world, unfortunately, and I could see immature-but-sexually active girls and women majorly misusing the device.

While I could drone on and on about my qualms with this device, the most important of them all is this: the problem with rape isn't women, it's R A P E. The condom is another way to scare women into feeling perpetually vulnerable and it isn't solving the problem of rape, but rather compounding, complicating, and completely avoiding it. I understand the good intentions behind this advice, but instead of working on illogically calculated preventative tactics to "avoiding" rape, why not focus on educating young girls and boys about appropriate sexual behavior and why any forms of forced sexual acts are wrong? I know that there are women (and children!) who do everything "right" and still wind up in situations where they are abused or assaulted. And you know why that is? It's because they only have control over their own behavior. By introducing a device that supposedly shifts the focus to the victim, it disallows for sympathy in a situation where their control was temporarily taken from them. A single person can only control themselves; the actions that another person forces upon them - no matter what the circumstance - was not a choice made by them, but by the other person. Thsi device is attempting to put the "power" in the victims hands, but it discounts the psychological and emotional aspects of rape/sexual assault and only focuses on the physical. I'm of the opinion that with all the guilt and shame that comes after being victimized, a victim might be effected negatively by the thought that they may have hurt another individual and are at fault in some way or another.

Just think about it.

Be Righteous.

Hey, kiddies! School's Out - Time to Dumpster Dive!

2010-06-24T09:23:00.002-04:00

I probably would not have caught wind of this post if not for my good friend's utter amusement at conservative talk radio. Check out his blog!

Good old Rush Limbaugh. Good old Rush Limbaugh and his anti-poverty (or, better stated - anti-impoverished) warped sense of being. Good old elitist Rush Limbaugh who grew up in a family filled with lawyers (and money), who has no experience relying on school lunches or even the slightest concept of what it is like to be impoverished. I wonder if he has ever met a poor person in his life? Yes, good old Rush.

We know he has a problem with social groups that are not like him: upper-mid to wealthy, well-fed, white, conservative, ~~Parkinson-free,~~ men. You see, folks, in 1993, Rush Limbaugh did a little commentary about homeless people and an organization called Project Dignity, a homeless advocacy group that serves the homeless population in several ways - including teaching them the safest way to pick food from a dumpster. Limbaugh has an issue with this because, instead of seeing it as a reality and necessity for the impoverished, he thinks that it perpetuates and maintains homelessness. And boy did he show his true colors then:

Here we are, only 17 years later, and he's extended his reach to cover the impoverished children who rely on reduced lunches. With talks of increasing food stamp benefits for the unemployed through the summer - because their children rely on free or reduced lunches - Rush Limbaugh got his panties in a bunch and expects that these children dumpster dive for survival. Because who gives a what-what about poor, hungry children not eating? Why should he care when there are soooooooooo many ways to eat?

It just kills me that the conservative right-wingers can begin to say that liberal progressives are the problem with America when it's clear that we are focused on advancing social programs for the advancement of populations that are traditionally (and currently, obviously) not given equal treatment or assistance in moving forward and succeeding. It angers me to hear the complete disregard for the youth of the poor; and it's upsetting that people like Rush Limbaugh aren't affected by seeing their fellow Americans in the slums of the country, hurting and starving.

It isn't hard to believe that this guy, one of a few quacks, argued against sending aid to Haiti after the earthquakes; I wouldn't mind seeing him become completely irrelevant. Just disappear already!

On another note, if the benefits aren't enough for children to eat, or you know children that are in need of meals, there are several organizations that give free meals to children over the summer. I'm not sure who may be out there reading, but my hope is that if you know (or don't know personally) a person in need, you'll be inspired to help.

Be Righteous.

For the full recent commentary on "dumpster diving" sans Ed Schultz, click here.

Personal Strides

2010-06-22T19:27:00.002-04:00

You see that awkward IwannasmilebutIdon'tknowwhethertheyarelaughingwithmeoratme grin there? When I was in the sixth grade, I was doing a break-the-ice activity in my homeroom class. We tossed around a ball with all these random questions on it, and when I caught the ball, the question that I was forced to read aloud and answer was "which cartoon character are you most like?" Hesitant and reluctant to answer, I decided upon Lisa Simpson: brainy, socially awkward, the less cool of the (older) siblings, always soul-searching. Yeah, that's me.

And yes, this is another personal, albeit short-sweet-and-to-the-point, post about my personality. My confessions. And so, I confess: I've a bit of a serious personality wrapped in dry, sarcastic humor.

My brother is a funny guy; he's a quick thinker and he was handed down that trait from my father who, himself, always has some pretty darn amusing jokes. I wasn't so lucky, and though I'm a likeable and personable (and reserved all the same), I have a far more serious and intense outlook on things sometimes. I can be funny, occasionally; after a few drinks, I'm a riot. When I'm out with my best friends, I can be hysterical. But 89% of the time, while I'm pleasant and usually very positive, I'm a very focused and direct individual.

And that's a difficult characteristic to turn off. I know people who would probably paint me more as The Grinch than Lisa Simpson, and I tend to be a chronic apologizer because I don't want people to think of me that way. I smile, I laugh, I'm happy, I'm chock-full of sardonic wit! Yet, I do get overwhelmed and sucked into my own personal attributes of being an activist and hoping to touch and change the world in one way or another. I sometimes have a difficult time decompressing.

Of course I realize that people have full ownership of the way that they view me, and of course I realize that I should make no apologies for being myself, but lately I've been thinking that I'm not offering a full and fair representation of myself online. Weeks ago, a friend of mine says to me (via twitter) something along the lines of "hey, it's okay to smile!" And I do. I've smiled while cursing people out.

In speaking to another good friend tonight, I'd finally cracked a few jokes; which, usually, goes rather unsuccessfully when I'm trying hard enough. And he says to me, "you gotta clown to deal with the madness."

Now, this isn't to say I'll try being less heavy with my posts, thoughts, and ways...but for the sake of my own mental health and happiness, it'd probably do me some good to get fired up a little less. My blood pressure can't take all that.

Juneteenth, 2010.

2010-06-19T05:40:00.005-04:00

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.
-- Frederick Douglass

I guess it goes without explanation my feelings for the [white] Independence Day. Okay, I enjoy grilling out and spending time in the hot sun with my family in the South. I don't really believe in the majority of consumerist bullshit holidays, but they do tend to be the only times of the year that I am able to put my feet up and spend time with my family. Don't look at me like that, I know I'm not the only one.

I do, however, enjoy the symbolism in Black American ~~made-up~~ holidays because of our own history in the US. I think culture is important; and I think that being a person of color in the US and not acknowledging the historical climate of people of color during the major "American cultural" holidays is silly. Sure; we are American by right - we were born here, most of us know this land better than Africa and the Caribbean, and our foremothers likely engaged in forced sex and nursed white babies. This is by no means an anti-white rant; I'm just acknowledging the truth of the time. This is our history.

At any rate, many people do not know of Juneteenth ~~probably because it isn't taught in the public school systems~~, and I think it's important so here's my little Juneteenth blurb.

President Lincoln passed the Emancipation Proclamation in September of 1862, to go in effect January 1, 1863. However, troops had to be send to good ol' Texas after the slaves remained slaves for over two years after the Emancipation Proclamation to enforce their liberation. That's right, folks - the masters continued to benefit and did not tell their ~~property~~ 250,000 slaves that they were free.

Juneteenth (June 19, 1865) is when Black slaves in America were officially liberated from the bonds of physical slavery, though the mental, philosophical and emotional slavery still runs rampant. And while I'm sure that Juneteenth will not be in the textbooks in Texas (as if it was already, right?), there are a number of websites that offer history and local, national, and international Juneteenth celebrations:

Juneteenth World Wide Celebration
Juneteenth: Texas State Library
Juneteenth San Antonio history
National Juneteenth Holiday Campaign

Be Righteous.

Disparities: Missing White Woman Syndrome

2010-06-18T13:46:00.005-04:00

The point of this post is illustrated between 1:58 and 3:33; it's the best I could do!

My studies are all in the realm of social science. I've recently discovered contemporaries with similar mindsets as myself in some regard, but in other regards social science seems less than important as it is specifically (in my studies) constructed by the history of a very diverse bunch known as America on the whole. My goal in life since I was two years old was to save people; no, not in a spooky religious sort of way, but in a way that is long-lasting and more affecting of the people: I want (and have) hands on experience working with people to improve the condition of their lives. And while I very much realize that all people are in need of assistance and "saving", I feel for women and persons of color (as a woman and person of color). As such, many of the things that I have studied and worked to change deal specifically with the imbalance in our (American) social reality as it relates to women, people of color (largely Black people), and women of color.

The media and society have a mutual give-and-take relationship when it comes to the definition of reality on the whole; an individual's own reality and definitions do matter but are sometimes not representative as what is presented by society. The old chicken and egg argument dominates: does the media maintain a true reflection of the people (though society has been around as long as the media), or does society influence more what the media should be portraying as society's needs?

My college courses (at my predominately white university, for the record), often discussed a phenomenon known as Missing White Woman Syndrome(MWWS): the apparent racial bias in the media's (over-)reporting of young, attractive, "conventional", upper-middle class white girls/women over impoverished-to-middle class girls/women of color. I often ponder on this; there is a serious pattern of local and national panic when white women are abducted (or, even victimized in one way or another) versus when women of color are victimized at all. So much so, in fact, that there are websites available that post pictures and information for women of color because of the expressed imbalance. Remember: there's "justice", but there's also, very often, "just-us".

MWWS has only recently received the acknowledgment of its unfortunate reality. LaToyia Figueroa was a young pregnant woman of color that was reported missing in 2005 after not showing up for work. She was murdered south of Philly...an entire month after she disappeared. Her case was overshadowed by Natalee Holloway's disappearance and reported little by the mainstream media.

Last night, I'm sitting at work and I began thumbing through the most recent People Magazine. As I've made apparent, I have an interest in sex crimes and, what many police divisions describe to be "special victims". As such, I am always very caught up in the killings of young women and, admittedly, I've been very caught up in the details of Natalee Holloway's disappearance from the day she went missing. I mean, she was(/is?) the same age as me and the fact that they've yet to discover her whereabouts is terrifying and must be absolutely tragic for her parents. And when the suspect in her disappearance and alleged death popped up on the national media's radar weeks ago, I thought '...so, he killed this poor girl on five years to the day of Natalee's disappearance because she was asking him about whether or not he actually murdered her?' Odd way to prove your innocence. There was a difference though: he confessed to killing Stephany Tatiana Flores Ramírez and is taking his punishment. Now, though he has made off the record contradicting statements about killing Natalee and/or selling her into sex slavery (which is very possible considering he has a serious gambling and drug addiction - that caused his lawyer-father to stop supporting him), he was never even charged or tried for Natalee's murder because of such little evidence. It is devastating, and very unfortunate but these things happen in real life. Everything is not always Law and Order, and many missing persons and/or murders go unresolved.

Equally unfortunate to me, though, was People Mag's cover:

I feel for Natalee Holloway and her family. I also feel for Stephany Tatiana Flores Ramírez, who is hardly pictured to the right of Natalee Holloway. Joran van der Sloot confessed to brutally murdering her. He is being tried for this crime. He is not currently being tried for the murder of Natalee Holloway. So why is Natalee Holloway the feature of this cover?

We could argue that it is American-centric, which I also have a problem with given that the crime and alleged crime still occurred elsewhere. I don't intend to disrespect Natalee Holloway, but it seems as though the young, beautiful, upper-middle class white woman - the feature - is of greater value than the young dead Latina who is the most recent victim of van der Sloot's crimes.

I have no problem that the article mentioned Natalee Holloway; I understand wanting to draw parallels and hoping to bring van der Sloot to justice for the disappearance of Natalee. Truly, my heart goes out to everyone who was personally affected by Natalee's vanishing into thin air. Yet, I'm disappointed; if the media feeds into the subconscious of society, what is it telling us about the value of young women of color who are missing or murdered?

Be Righteous.

Hang On Little Tomato by Pink Martini

2010-06-16T14:16:00.002-04:00

The sun has left and forgotten me
It's dark, I cannot see
Why does this rain pour down
I?m gonna drown
In a sea
Of deep confusion

Somebody told me, I don?t know who
Whenever you are sad and blue
And you?re feelin? all alone and left behind
Just take a look inside and you will find

You gotta hold on, hold on through the night
Hang on, things will be all right
Even when it?s dark
And not a bit of sparkling
Sing-song sunshine from above
Spreading rays of sunny love

Just hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you?ll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something?s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead

And so I hold on to his advice
When change is hard and not so nice
You listen to your heart the whole night through
Your sunny someday will come one day soon to you

Tupac Shakur

2010-06-16T12:51:00.008-04:00

I had a talk about Womanism last night, and the intersection of race and gender that every Black woman has to deal with. I don't have an agenda against men or Black men; I don't, however, feel as though not speaking the truth or an opinion that is generally overlooked to maintain any person's (man/woman/entertainer/whatever) legacy is cool. I don't think Black men (/any men) are the scourge of society. I love men. No, really, I looooove men.

I don't hate Tupac Shakur. I think he has a lasting legacy that speaks to multiple sides in him; from Tupac the poet to Tupac "Thug Life" Shakur. I awakened this morning and among "Happy Birthday Tupac" tweets were tweets about Tupac's real, genuine love for Black women as evidenced by his lyrics:

And since we all came from a woman
Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman
I wonder why we take from our women
Why we rape our women, do we hate our women?
I think it's time to kill for our women
Time to heal our women, be real to our women
And if we don't we'll have a race of babies
That will hate the ladies, that make the babies
And since a man can't make one
He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one
So will the real men get up
I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up

Now, I love this song because it is uplifting and I can appreciate the struggles being acknowledged. I love some of Tupac's music and can appreciate the aspects of his life and personality; in some regards, he was poetic. I realize that music is entertainment and entertainment is not real life, which is why I decided to offer a counter opinion in stating that Tupac was also convicted of rape and has demeaned women to a certain point; regardless of if you want to distinguish the difference between "women" and "bitches":

I did point out in my conversations about the brotha that, true enough, he has inspired many people. Many of the people my age when I was coming up were caught up in the "Thug Life" message, though. A lot of people are able to point out the positive messages in his music as well but I pointed out that praising a man as a hero and ignoring his wrongdoing is sending a poor message to young men and women coming up.

A person that I was engaged with completely doubted the fact that the victim was sexually assaulted because of a retraction of statement, though, after he was convicted of a crime is, to me, a form of victim blaming/precipitation in that a young woman (who still contends in articles and online to this day that she was raped) is being disbelieved because of a man's own celebrity. I wasn't there, but let's look from a socio-cultural and legal/historical standpoint:

Yes, "convicted" of does not always mean guilty, especially in terms of Black men and the American justice (or "just-us") system. However, rape/sexual assault has a low conviction rate because of the he-say/she-say nature of a trial. Fact. Also fact is this: Black man on white woman sexual assault (or alleged sexual assault) is typically punished far more than rape that allegedly occurs within the same race. Fact. More factually, though, is the historical idea that crimes WITHIN the Black comunity the Black community alone have been isolated by the American justice system, forcing them to become Black issues - which is one of the reasons that sexual assault is reported far less from within the Black community.

I'm not saying that there has never been a woman that has alleged that a rape happened that did not occur. I am, however, saying that the dynamics from within the Black community tend to speak to our history from inside America and regardless of conviction or not, rape allegations should be taken seriously. Imagine being raised to believe that you have to protect your brotha and look out for the best of the community, by any means necessary. Do you turn your brotha in for sexually assaulting you? Do you deal with the harassment of his friends, family or fans for a lie? Do you listen to and allow your name to become everybody's description of a whore to get back at someone in criminal court (which translates to jail-time, not money)? Why would you lie?

Regardless, my point in acknowledging his convictions - not a supposed opinion of him - is this: how do you explain to your sister, daughter, little cousin, or niece that he held this incredibly deep love for his sistas, as evidenced by his music, but is caught up in illegal activities, has been locked up, and yes - has been convicted of sexual abuse? And that he should be praised and celebrated?

Unfortunately, the things that we see are not all of man. I have no interest in demonizing Tupac Shakur as a man because his music is left behind and has some positive messages in it for the community. I do, however, want to bring an issue of conflicting persona to everyone's attentions. People can be profound. People are human, and that does not excuse any wrongdoing whatsoever. People, however, should be interested in explaining the complexities and roundness of the people that they choose to "praise" instead of ignoring the bad for the sake of what you perceived their character to be?

EDIT: I'd like to point that one of my major beliefs is separating "entertainment" from reality. While I note that one feeds the other in terms of the ideas perpetuated as "truths", entertainment is valid but does not take away from the reality of any situation. For instance, I do realize that I've quoted Biggie in a post, and that doesn't take away from his upbringings and the realities - even when he continuously rapped about the selling of drugs and has also said disrespectful things about and regarding women. My point is this: ignoring the human side of an individual where they have publicly illustrated their own wrongdoing to sustain a positive image and/or legacy of them is wrong. For the sake of our youth, just tell the entire truth.

It's All Effie's Fault..?!

2010-05-30T14:40:00.010-04:00

First of all, I'd like to apologize for my absence in the last several days. Though this post will be brief, I will be back in full force eventually. You see, I've been living my life like a string of parabolas and the down part of the spiral included a trip-turned-~~unpaid~~-vacation down the highway to home(though not incredibly pleasurable). Experiencing a loss is something every person has to grow to experience and accept, and I had to turn on my ability to nurture in order to soothe my family's hurt. A huge pet peeve of mine, though, is people constantly questioning whether or not I'm okay; so dear readers, if any one is out there, I guarantee you that I am absolutely fine and I appreciate your thoughts of encouragement in advance.

I left the city to head home last Saturday morning after punching out at work in the morning, and I was hardly tired. As a matter of fact, I ended up staying at work an extra few (okaaaay, thirty) minutes to finish "The Banality of Heterosexism" before getting on the road. Unfortunately for me, my trek was filled with far too many stops (maybe I was tired, maybe I was bored), traffic, and a phone conversation with a former friend.

Somehow, throughout the conversation, the question of my current love life came to light. I'm not the type of person that delves into my personal life with too many people as it relates to my relationships and decision making, and sometimes less is more. Besides elaborating on my being single and content, I also spilled the beans on a ~~rat~~ guy I was seeing, and actually liking, who actually had a ~~hundred~~ couple other "girlfriends", all complete with the same nickname, other than me. I wasn't incredibly heartbroken, as I dumped him weeks before even realizing that he was just awful. That's right, even with the broken dates and bullshit excuses, there was still some inkling of what I thought was a combination of good person/shitty boyfriend left, and it was the most peaceful "I'm just gonna walk away" thing I had ever done.
...until it wasn't.

Yet, the ugly details aren't included and since they don't really matter, I only shared that the person that I very much liked at one point, and even more quickly bounced back from, turned out to be the very deserving object of my disgust.

The friend on the phone, a Black man himself, allowed me into the world of "how Black men think"; as he began to postulate, I rolled my eyes all the way down ninety five and even caught myself almost kicking my feet up on the dash and munching on popcorn.

The gospel according to him was as follows: since I am a plus sized lady, Black men think that I am easily controlled as a result of a lack of self esteem. Therefore, if I don't want to be treated like shit, I need to be a size two. Easy enough formula, right? As he expanded upon his theory, I did not find myself upset at his preachy "I know Black men as a Black man"-itudes; I giggled because I thought it to be one of the sillier things I had heard. His explanation for this was the "fact" that the only Black men I am to ever attract (by my own fault, no doubt) are looking for a woman that they can impose their views on; as a matter of fact, he even threw this little diddy in the mix: when a Black man dates a Black woman, she's the most shapely, finest goddess that he can find -- but when they go after white women (again, to impose upon), they're always "nasty looking". Yes, folks: it was all Effie's fault that Curtis dogged her

...word? Well, on top of this conversation being utterly random and disgustingly stitched together, I find a few faults with this logic:

1. That some Black men take offense to this idea that any Black man is or could ever be controlling (ergo, abusive) in one context, but will justify it in another.
2. That this one Black man speaks for the lot of Black men.
3. That I'll never have/have never had a "successful" relationship because of my appearance and not my other attributes.
4. That plus-sized = ugly, lowered self-esteem having wenches who are chosen by these men.
5. That aforementioned wenches never have a say in with whom they choose to enter relationships.
6. That skinny women do not have self esteem issues or relationship problems.
7. That non-"nasty looking" white women are not interested in or dating Black men.
8. That plus-sized women are of less value than average-to-skinny women.
9. That any one person is to blame for another party's actions.
10. That there are not men (or for argument's sake, women) who enjoy a little more..erm..fluff.

...and that is just to name a few. Now, I didn't take this as a personal attack because obviously, I think this is utter foolishness. Could I stand to drop a few lbs? Sure, but when I do, it isn't because I'm attempting to draw attention from another person. I don't think that I should even seem combative in saying that I date; I've documented a few dates on here on the blog and the people that I encounter are interesting enough. I don't think I should even have to harp on the fact that I'm satisfied with the person that I am/am becoming, and that my singlehood is by my own volition. Sure, we would all very much enjoy companionship, but having no anchor to anything right now (and being the personable anti-social that I tend to be), I can up and move away ~~as I am currently contemplating~~ any time the mood strikes. And honestly, I believe I'm always "fly" (actually a nickname given to me by an former boyfriend) and of all the attributes that might keep me single - Black power fueled with feminism, opinionated nature, inability to produce a successful joke, Billy-Bad-Assedness, heavy flow (read: straight-up-inappropriateness when I'm trying to tell a joke, ha!) - my appearance is the least of my concerns. Lastly, I don't think that I should have to elaborate on the fact that the way I am online - forward, opinionated, sometimes-bitchy (and even sometimes offending) - is exactly the way I am when I click "sign out" - which pretty much rules the no-confidence-and-lowered-self-esteem malarkey instantly. More than anything, this was all very amusing before I opted to hit him with the shrug-and-"I'mma let you finish"-move; I hung up and continued rolling down 95 as pleasantly as I began my journey.

I don't have control over another person's actions; that mickey-fickey decided for himself to cheat and go in the direction that he would - and he has total ownership of that. Other people's problems are...well, they're their problems.

Know that. Smile. Be Righteous.

Article: Washington Post - 5/30/10

2010-05-30T13:27:00.003-04:00

I did not write this but I really enjoyed reading it! Here's a snippet and there is a link to the full article in the title.

The fake feminism of Sarah Palin

By Jessica Valenti
Sunday, May 30, 2010

Sarah Palin sure is dropping the f-bomb a lot lately.
In a widely noted speech this month to the Susan B. Anthony List, an anti-abortion-rights group, Palin invoked the words "feminism" and "feminist" no less than a dozen times. She called for a "pro-woman sisterhood" and addressed the "sisters" in the audience. If it weren't for the regular references to gun rights, you might have thought you were listening to Gloria Steinem.

If this rhetoric seems uncharacteristic of the former governor of Alaska, that's because it is. When running for vice president in 2008, Palin flip-flopped on the feminist question, telling CBS's Katie Couric that she is one, but later telling NBC's Brian Williams, "I'm not going to label myself anything."

Today, however, Palin is happily adopting the feminist label. She's throwing support behind "mama grizzly" candidates, describing the large number of women in the "tea party" as evidence of a "mom awakening" and preaching girl power on her Facebook page.

It's not a realization of the importance of women's rights that's inspired the change. It's strategy. Palin's sisterly speechifying is part of a larger conservative move to woo women by appropriating feminist language. Just as consumer culture tries to sell "Girls Gone Wild"-style sexism as "empowerment," conservatives are trying to sell anti-women policies shrouded in pro-women rhetoric.

Check it out!

The Banality of Heterosexism

2010-05-29T08:27:00.015-04:00

Heterosexism, or the presumption that man-woman relationships are the norm, is a dangerous spirit that haunts the eventual future burial ground of gender-based discrimination. You know how they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions? Well, see…I don’t know about that heaven and hell thing in the literal sense, but there is definitely a metaphorical context that makes the saying true. Think about it: the crazy people that think whatever they do about whatever they do are so moved by their own personal truth, however sick and demented it may sometimes be, that they disregard the fact that their "truth" is, not only largely offensive, but also not believed by the people that they choose to judge using their belief system as the standard.

Does that sound right? Or preachy? It’s definitely far too early on Saturday morning (as I write this) to get preachy. I just know this much: people have to open up and accept the fact that the driving force behind who we are is our own free will. That isn’t specifically to go against any particular set of religious beliefs, though we know my feelings on the matter; but chew on this for a minute: how do we grow into whoever we are without will?

Get this, dear readers – I am on Facebook days ago and I see a status up by a friend of mine that had very apparent heterosexist ideas in it. Now, I’m not one for internet beef (or real life beef, I don’t eat the stuff). I think that shit is so 8th-grade and passé bullshit really isn’t my thing. Though, if I am to have an intelligent and healthy debate, as I do with aforementioned friend regularly, we tend to keep Facebook out of the picture because, to me, it’s so much more personal than a forum, a blog, even twitter. And it got out of hand.

Featured below, m’loves, are screen shots of all the action. The last two comments were not captured before the entire exchange was deleted. My self-diagnosed OCD kicked in and I actually color coded the conversation for your convenience – I am featured in the yellow-gold color. The intention of this post is not to ruin any relationships that I have with any of the people directly or indirectly involved (which is why I even colored out the avatar images). Note: you may have to click the images for a better view of the conversation.

Now, much like the work of Hannah Arendt, I feel that the banality of an individual’s ideas and actions of any sort are lost in the dominating force that is group think. Unfortunately, people think they are enlightened; they think that they believe these things to be true and they have some sort of social advantage (without basis, mind you) over other groups – whether directly or indirectly – because of the overwhelming support they have from other people who believe the same thing. It takes a considerable amount of courage (and, hell, sometimes even insanity) to move away from the wrong ideas you’ve been spoon-fed for lifetimes.

This conversation spilled over to twitter. After it spilled over to twitter, it spilled over to a telephone conversation of my dear talented, passionate(but misguided on this particular topic) friend pleading with me that he is a good person, not a homophobe, that wants to encourage "men" to be "men" - whatever that means and however that should happen. And my entire problem with that is this: far, far too many individuals allow their beautiful individual selves to die within someone else’s definition of who and how they should be. Aside, what makes a man a man? Do you not see the skewed origin of this thought pattern? I have friends, many great people, caught up and torn in the ideas of what the mainstream deems “normal” – and the scariest part is the fervor and depth of their rationalities.

And though some (and not all) people’s ideas of normality – especially in dealing with the banality of heterosexism” or the ignorance of passing, albeit rationalized-to-them, hate speech – is backed by “good intentions, it’s still just another way for a member of the social status quo to further impose their belief system on other people. So, uhh…how else do you approach individuals with good intentions? I mean, besides the inter-technological beating of a dead horse to a pure pulp? You do what I did – email several different educational resources about gender versus biological sex, so-called “gender roles”, heterosexism/homophobia, hate speech and the idea that all people are actually people!

...being a decent human being does not excuse any of this. It doesn't make it less wrong, and it doesn't make my volume against the issue less audible. As I told my friend, if he were anybody - and I do mean anybody - else saying the things that were said, I'd have been just as riled up and vocal about it all.

Be Righteous.

Sister Inspirations: Alexis Pauline Gumbs

2010-05-26T11:31:00.007-04:00

Not so long ago, when I was doing research for my undergraduate independent research thesis, I was so very fortunate enough to come into contact with many inspirations; sisters livicated to the same causes, devoting the same volume of activism to change, making moves: inspiring. My chosen topic for the project was historical contexts of sexual assault toward Black women in America; with that, I wrote about the transition through the major movements in America, and about the deficiencies in current crisis centers where culture and cultural competency are involved. My passion (and what I believe to be my life's work) is healing Black women where relationship (sexual, mental, emotional, physical) violence as a gender issue and a cultural issue intersect because they are issues that cannot be divorced in the issues faced by women of color.

Among the several of my inspirations that I was introduced to in the interest of research and reflection is a Sister writer/activist/survivor/scholar/everything-I'm-working-toward by the name of Alexis Pauline Gumbs. She is amazingly talented and incredibly intelligent, resourceful and inspiring. Moreover, to me it was so refreshing and motivating to know that there are sisters in my generation who are speaking out about Black womanist thought. I truly enjoy her presence and I hope that we are all successful in the journey to change the world that we live in and know by reinforcing the strengths that sisters of color - bisexual or lesbian or queer/questioning or straight or trans - formally educated or working to better the community in different ways - religiously affiliated or not - or whatever other qualities (because there are many) we may bare.

Alexis is just amazing. She recently received her Ph.D in English, African and African American Studies, and Women's Studies - and if that does not get any of my sisters and brothers, younger or older, motivated and worked up then I don't know what will do it!

Lex maintains a podcast: Eternal Summer of the Black Feminist Mind. In a recent edition entitled "Still Brave" was her graduation gift to the Black feminist world and I know that everything that she involves herself with will succeed without question. It already has.

Eternal Summer of the Black Feminist Mind: Still Brave - listen here!

Lex, you have truly been an amazing Sister-Inspiration of mine, and I hope to touch other sisters the way that you've touched me. Congratulations on all of your successes - I know there are so many more written into your future! And kudos for putting this podcast together; very well composed and the message and music are amazing.

Be Righteous...and inspired!

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

2010-05-26T10:33:00.004-04:00

I recently heard: "Why read the book when I can watch the movie?"

...and responded with:

Happy Friday!

2010-05-21T18:24:00.003-04:00

Just the other day, I was sitting around having my nightly coffee, and for some reason I had a flashback to college which, believe it or not, was not that long ago. In my last year, I became close with a new professor who shared my love of the Beatles. I try to avoid using the ideas associate with the term "typical", but I am sure that when people think of fans of the Beatles, young Black women don't necessarily come to mind. Yet, as someone who is musically inclined (and generally a glutton for all types of music), I can't help but brag about having every Beatles album released -- including solo projects! Yes, my darlings, even when George Harrison and Ringo Starr kept plugging away with white noise.

At any rate, I remember seeing this viral video of a kid singing "Hey Jude" and falling in love. I remembered my advisor lecturing me for my ~~plot to~~ jokes about kidnapping him and raising him as my own. If I ever decide to have children, I want them to be talented enough to belt out "Hey Jude" by the time they're two, too. Oh, I also want them to be able to describe Star Wars, like this little darling.

This is soooo embarrassing. I usually don't take pleasure in the internet's exploitation of talented children.

Is "Draw Muhammed Day" Supposed to Be...Cool?

2010-05-20T18:06:00.005-04:00

Just briefly, I'd like to explain why I am not interested in taking any part in "Draw Muhammed Day":

While I understand the point being driven by some non-Muslims to be that fear should not dictate what the rest of us do with such simple liberties as doodling and the like, I think that it is calling for the deliberate pidgeonholing of a single group of people bound by one religious belief. I'm all for free speech and, frankly, I tend to care very little about offending people in my thoughts, speech and opinions. However, I think that calling for people all over the globe to do something deliberately disrespectful toward a single group of people is petty, pointless, and a silly group-think tactic to "other" a category of people.

And when I see the groups of people that are traditionally "othered" doing it (you know, the classes of people I belong to: Black, female, atheists, et al), it only makes me think that there's to be no progress for humanity because you're doing the same thing that they do to us. It is amusing to me that a common gripe that a group of people can have about the way they are treated can be turned around with the snap of a finger when they're not on defense.

While I am sure that someone will bring up my affinity for all things inappropriate - cartoons included - and the idea that I draw random lines wherever I see fit, I'd like to say that there's a difference between satire in my own sardonic wit, and the real-world discriminatory thinking of the circumstantial status quo.

I'd rather not waste time drawing some entity (that I personally feel to be imaginary) for the sole purpose of pissing people off; instead, I'll use my powers for good.

Be Righteous.

...but, is it right?

2010-05-18T04:31:00.004-04:00

As an all around human rights activist, I often become torn between human rights and cultural/religious values (and/or freedom of expression of such from a more legal nature). Most recently, I've been connecting online with fellow nontheists (even Black ones - and that really helps my not feeling erm, well...alone in thought). Unfortunately, between my work schedule and my not even knowing where and how to get out and meet people, the majority of these acquiantances have been made on twitter and the like while lurking in the wee hours of the morning. I'm beginning to make time for people, but it's a little aggravating to seem to only attract sexual deviants or losers of varying other degrees. I've gained a few other friends and am slowly but surely making progress, though I miss my best friends from home incredibly.

Yet, recently stumbling upon more people with similar not-so-religious world views has become encouraging to me in more ways than one. Most of all, though, it's good to be able to engage in religious debate without being seen as combative or some fisherperson looking for a fight (because, contrary to popular belief, we don't all believe the exact same thing). I was engaged in a conversation with a nontheist friend of mine from college weeks ago, and we shared the same gripe that more and more, atheism/non-religion is becoming organized and behaving religious-like in congregation, even though in our own minds, it's about "unbelief". I truly take pride in contemplating carefully the words choose to use as descriptors, and like another good friend of mine, I loathe labels. I yam what I yam!

At any rate, recently being engaged in another stimulating conversation with a new acquaintance while at work, we were discussing human rights and religious tolerance. And upon reading this re-post on Richard Dawkins' blog, I felt it important to write about. The general gist of the post is the fact that the Saudi Arabian police and fire department "actively hindered" 15 young girls from the escape of their burning school. Why would they do that? Why would the people who maintain an occupation where they ideally would want to help other people participate in trapping young girls in a burning school turned-graveyard? Well, because in fleeing for their lives, they were attempting to escape the school without their head-coverings. Now, as for the recent post on Dawkins' website, there was recently a legislation passed by the religious police to allow male emergency response workers to enter girls-only schools in the event of an emergency (and sorry, the only link that was attached was Dutch, but there is a translation on the other blog). Of course this raises church and state issues, the same issues that seem to cause most social issues in seemingly every society, and that is an issue?

What about Afghanistan's epidemic of child rape? Or in South Africa? Or the women in the Congo? Or the abuse of nuns (that is largely ignored by the mainstream media!) and children's sexual abuse by the Catholic church as an establishment?

He asked if I thought this practice, mainly speaking to Afghan child-rape, to be right and while I naturally said no and elaborated on why - even when abusers claimed the young girls participate in these actions - children cannot consent, why there's no circumstance where an adult should even feel justified in having sex with a child, why it's wrong, becauseweallknowhowlongwindedIcanbe.
And he said, "Okay, I understand what you're saying...but, is it right?"
Well no, hell no it's not right. As a matter of fact, under no circumstances is rape acceptable -- let alone child rape. Not in Islam, not in Catholicism, not in less religious society, not in any form of human interaction is this at all "right".
"...then, why aren't we doing anything?"
Well, now..when you say we? When you say we, are you meaning we, the US? We, the non-religious? We, Black people?
"We, every other person on the planet that behaves under the assumption that this behavior is abusive. Why aren't we doing anything?"
And while I could think of so many reasons that people use to justify why we don't get involved, I couldn't honestly think of one rational reason as to why we don't get involved and stop it.

Now, this isn't about my opinions on religions. This isn't even about my own personal "religious tolerance" - though I hate the term tolerance because it insinuates uncaring acknowledgment versus acceptance of other people. This is about human rights over the right to practice what you believe, however radical and warped a version of whichever concept you believe. Who cares what religious/social/cultural/political/whatever-al label you identify with if you are using that label to justify sexual and physical (and, psychological, as a result) harm toward another person, child or otherwise?

I'm not on a crusade against any ideological group in particular because I am completely fine with who I am; does that mean I don't voice my opinion tactfully with religious people willing to engage in an open discussion about their beliefs? Not at all. I don't go around instigating such situations. I don't passively allow people to discuss religion, prayer or the like as a means to "other" people who may hold the same belief, either. However, upon reflection, is passive non-theism just as allowing of such crimes as the passively religious? -- you know, the people who say "well, see, the way I interpret it..", etc. Is religious tolerance more important than intervening - as people from all over, not governments - where we can without waging war and further upsetting the balance of human and environmental rights worldwide? Should we be doing something more?

Then why aren't we?

Be Righteous.

Sexual Deviants Need Not Apply

2010-05-09T21:19:00.009-04:00

Sula: I'm speechless. Like...
Me: Yeah, I know.
Sula: I mean...
Me: ..I know. So, uhm...yeah.
Sula: I really...I mean...
Me:...that's when I knew.
Sula: I didn't see that coming at all...

As old Sophia Petrillo says, picture it:
A few weeks ago, I met a guy who actually seemed pretty cool. After deciding that I just wanted to meet people without any expectations of anything more serious happening, I was really excited that I met someone who seemed to have a very fun and lively personality. We exchanged numbers and began communicating from there; admittedly, he got extra points for being so cool about hearing my trash-talk during our first conversation, and he's so animated and funny to maintain a conversation with.

We went out recently, but it was a really rough day for me. I figured, though, that I would definitely give him another shot at hanging out because he knew the things that unexpectedly ruined my day and he seemed really sincere about offering support in any way.

We had lunch the first day, and it went incredibly well. We parted ways and after a while, he began texting me. I think that he must have been feeling extra flirtatious and wanted to test his boundaries, and that's fine because I have no problem correcting certain behaviors in awkward or inappropriate situations. He began telling me how gorgeous I looked, and even made a joke(?) that the waitress at the restaurant was checking me out. I tried to keep the conversation tame, but somehow he decided to be bold and it went left.

...and that is when he revealed to me that he enjoys watching bestiality porn.

He said he wasn't into acting it out or actually seeing anyone he knows act it out, but that he enjoys watching it has much as he enjoys watching lesbian porn.

Now, in the time I've ever discussed pornography with anybody (including with such issues as ethnically insensitive acts and the objectification of women) I have nevereverevereverevereverEVER had anyone come out of the closet as a deviant saying, "yeah, I love the type of porn where people are fxcking animals." Ever. Naturally, I deflected and just ignored his messages.

What the hell does one even say to that? Before we even had this conversation, I had an idea that our hanging out would not really be on a boyfriend-girlfriend level and I was fine with it, but do I really want to spend any amount of time with someone that...likes bestiality? Like, I don't even know what to say to that...(confused face)

Now, let's discuss bestiality for a minute. I think that many people are anti-anything a lot of times without the ability to articulate why they feel a certain way about a taboo. This is how, in my opinion, morons so easily equate consensual non-heterosexual relationships with things like zoophilia; they just know that they wouldn't do it without understanding why not. In my opinion, the defenseless need protecton and I have very strong views on sexual assault, including engaging in sexual activities with those who don't truly have a say-so in the matter. Animals aren't equipped with the mental capacity to be able to say "I don't really think this is right" or the ability to give verbal/non-verbal cues as to their level of discomfort with the situation. Further, engaging in sexual behavior with animals is similar to sexually abusing children, the elderly, the physically/mentally-disabled, or any other group that is unable to protect themselves. As such, someone coming out of the closet to me about enjoying Tijuana horse shows is along the same lines as someone saying "I only like kiddy porn; I don't actually have sex with children!"

No, but seriously.

So what do you even say to that? Is it okay to just spend time with someone..like that if you're for sure about it never progressing to a certain point? Further, what is it about me that attracts this type of person? (confused face, again)

I..don't..really..get it.

Edit: Thanks to @dredpiraterob for much of the conversation that inspired my writing this post. I'm not sure that I'd have fleshed out these ideas a bit more without discussing the above incident with him.

Bigger Than Hip-Hop

2010-05-09T12:32:00.010-04:00

Okay, hip-hop. As a music lover and a member of the Black community, I don't feel I can completely turn my back on you. I've often expressed a confused-love-hate relationship of hip hop music as a result of the disrespect that Black women live with in the music and the glorification of certain degrading social situations, but that doesn't make these situations less relevant, prevalent, or invalid as experiences faced within Black culture and the hip-hop listener's community.

I take issue with the idea that there are disingenuous and unauthentic self-claiming hip-hoppers that are being unexamined in terms of, not only the quality of product they are producing, but the accessibility of poor messages to children (which, I know, speaks also to parenting). Some artists don't fail to acknowledge the fact that their audience is 12-15 year old children, and with that acknowledgment comes an uncaring attitude.

There are so many good qualities in hip-hop. Having had my upbringing, I experienced life in different communities. I used to play kick-ball in the street with what seemed to be the kids from "Hey, Arnold!" I got a boom-box for one of my earlier birthdays and it had a double tape-deck, and I sat on the deck during sticky-hot North Carolina summers listening to mix-tapes that I made of singles from the radio. I've always been an over-thinker and I can even recall when my thorough examination and interpretations of music began: I was around ten and had heard an unedited version of "Mo' Money Mo' Problems." And, of course, I figured if they weren't one of George Carlin's 7 Dirty Words, it isn't off limits. I didn't stop to think that there might be a reason the radio bleeps the words out! So, I'm listening to the song in the car with my dad, and I was boppin' my head, proud to know that they sampled Diana Ross's "I'm Coming Out" so perfectly, probably wearing one of those horrid looking jumpsuits worn by Mase and Puffy in the video and giggling with thoughts of "Ma$e Gumble" and "Puffy Woods", and - of course - rhyming to Biggie, and said the phrase "triple beam, lyrical dream - I be that cats you see at all the 'vents bent". Generally, my dad could appreciate my love of music and ability to recite any song after hearing it once; musically minded, I also have a talent at identifying and perfecting pitch. However, also being an early scholar, I hated (and still hate) when people challenge me to make me stupid, as my father did plenty of times growing up. Immediately, he turned the radio down and said, "do you know what a triple beam is?" Well now, I knew it was that thing my teacher taught us about during the science part of our day. Proudly, I told him this. And he explained to me that it is a device used to measure drugs. Truly, this experience might be the reason I question everything to the point of annoyance; I like to know the origin of words and phrases so that I don't mistakenly look buffoonish.

Yet growing up in hip-hop has made me appreciate the things that I can relate to, and even experiences that I cannot because I feel how real they are. Despite what some may tell you, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I've grown through more experiences than a lot of people are privy to; a lot of those situations intersect with old school, new school, and pop-culture hip-hop. However, I also experienced social situations that aren't exactly understood to be what is portrayed as "the Black community" - complete with "talking/acting white" - and I don't think that this invalidates my opinions as a scholar and interpreter of the message or experience.

Since I don't completely have a work-sleep-blog-leisure schedule worked out yet, I tend to catch up on the happenings of the week on Sunday mornings after I get off work. Finally getting around to episodes of The Michael Eric Dyson Show, I was excited to be able to listen to a(/nother) hip-hop discussion. The tail end of the show featured Thomas Chatterton Williams, author of "Losing My Cool: How a Father's Love and 15,000 Books Beat Hip-hop Culture". Now, I don't like to judge a book by it's cover (or title), but...well, just fast forward through all the really informative (and very well stated) stuff about the President and financial regulation and have a listen:

Is Hip-Hop Culturally Valuable?
(I couldn't embed the soundclip, but the link will take you straight to it)

I don't think Mr. Williams' argument was well-rounded enough for the show, and taking task with Jay-Z is not exactly a careful examination of hip-hop culture's realism and societal importance to the minority communities that experience what is spoken about. While I may not like to listen to much of the ~~bullshit~~ music on the radio, I'm more anti-listening-to-the-~~bullshit~~-music-on-the-radio-without-proper-interpretative-skills. I don't hate hip-hop, I hate the complacency associated with our culture's allowing such vulgarity and outdated ideas to be recycled and allowed such a substantial influence on how our culture is portrayed. I'm sick of parents not explaining to children what's what. If my dad hadn't challenged me to understand the rhymes I was recycling, would I even be as thorough a thinker as I am now? Granted, I have my own definition of what "real" hip-hop is, but that doesn't discredit the ~~bullshit~~ music and musicians to whom I refuse to listen.

Also, I have a problem with the fact that Mr. Willams is so caught up on Jay-Z and drugs. At one point, he seemed to be heading in the direction of the often blatant disrespect of Black women, but didn't. What about the women in and affected by hip-hop? Have we, yet again, been othered?

Maybe I'll purchase Mr. Williams' book tomorrow, just to hear his argument. It's difficult to read a man in a snippet of the conversation; yet, from what I hear? Bullshit, son.

Be Righteous. And also, be insightful.

Got an Award, Y'all!

2010-05-08T01:46:00.002-04:00

I've been dealing with a minor setback over the course of the last few days; I'm sure it always seems as though I've got some minor set back on but the definition of of "livication" is making a living devotion to causes and a high priority cause for myself is survival. I guess that's life!

At any rate, it is nearly 2am where I am. Typical of this wee hour of the morning is my listening to Al B. Sure! on my ipod (hey, I grew up in the 90s..) and going through my neglected google reader, as I try to (and usually fail at) sleep during the day. Today was a great day for me; I got an "I-love-you" package from my younger cousin in Hawaii, complete with a teddy bear, chocolate covered toffee with macadamias, and squid jerky (yum!). Also, I am now county certified to do basic mediation, and I've done some networking and made some connections throughout the class. I got a lead on a job! Annnd, while at work going through my reader, I read the latest update from Keep It Trill, and I've been awarded a Beautiful Blogger Award! I'm flattered to know that someone understands the words coming out of my mouth!

While I never intended for my blog to become as personal and intimate about my own life as it has, I think that I've poured enough of my personal experiences and characteristics into the posts and I refuse to bore anyone who may be reading with who I am. I'm seriously humbled and it was a pleasant surprise to know that someone thinks enough of my thoughts to include my blog in their daily cipher. Thanks so much for ~~listening to me bitch~~ reading. I'm glad someone is paying attention.

Be Righteous.

Real Love: I Am Not a Groupie!

2010-05-04T10:10:00.011-04:00

I was going to write a late post on Earth Day and the festivities on the National Mall a few weeks ago, but I'm having a difficult time writing something well-rounded and informative. While I'm sure I got more of a message out of the activities meant to encourage stronger climate legislation and environmentally responsible practices than the majority of the ~~potheads~~ people in attendance, I can't really see past the man (men?) of my dreams that were there. So, in lieu of writing something incredibly stimulating, I'm going to have to discuss the man I'm pretty sure is my soul-mate. Yes? Cool! I took these photos from the Earth Day festivities.

I fell for Ahmir Khalib "?uestlove" Thompson when I was ten years old. I can't name an exact instant; I just remember overhearing my pops playing The Roots around the house, and being the music snob that I am, I was into it. Kids in junior high didn't understand, and it sucks to be closeted when you're the only person that's into something real-real. Tariq "Black Thought" Trotter has probably given me a very high percentage of my all-time favorite quotes. The music is so real.

It isn't his fame or musicianship though. I swear. I know that groupies try to rationalize their infatuation of whichever celebrity that happens to be the object of their affection, but I promise. He's a real musician: capable of acknowledging, dissecting, respecting, and overstanding the different layers in different types of music. I enjoy fellow music geeks; I read music and I, again, began school as a music major. I love the minds of musicians, especially ones who actually play an instrument. Yes, that sounds silly of me since I began school as a vocal music major. While I consider my voice to be my best instrument, I play a little guitar and piano and I probably have a minor version of synesthesia.

Aside from that, he's well spoken and read, and a technology nerd. Plus he's politically active and confident. I love hearing him speak. Whenever I see him, I get butterflies! Whenever he plays a really bad ass solo? I go crazy! I love reading his tweets (thaaaaaat sounds groupie-esque, I'll give you that). Everything about what I know of him just makes me want to sing; and...in my ~~sometimes warped~~ mind, he's my soul-mate.

Now all I have to do is convince him of that so that we can fall in love together, wed and have a dozen evil genius musically inclined children. Anybody wanna help? Any takers?...whatever then!

Be Righteous.

Why I Can't Give Up on President Obama

2010-05-03T18:15:00.008-04:00

The above image is a banner on Politifact.com. On this site, you can track his progress and you can also get clarification on the ~~bullshit~~ level of truth in the comments that politicians and news sources report on.

I certainly have my criticisms of President Obama, as with any other politician. I remember the feelings of euphoria when he was elected; but I did not expect him to change these "United" States of America overnight. I didn't vote for him just because he's Black. Even in his earlier days as a politician, health care has always been...well, a big f*cking deal to him. Moreover, being an activist myself, I am very interested in politicians who make it to office majorly based on the collaboration with and campaigning among grassroots organizers. I felt like part of the influence, and I also hoped to be a beneficiary of said influence.

Moreover, I am willing to acknowledge that he has enough struggle to deal with in terms of being the first Black President of the States. I mean, honestly, it brought a lot of shit to light that people were not (and still are not) willing to acknowledge. I mean, I'm gonna keep it real: I get on my Dead Prez sometimes and feed into the idea that politicians are the same entity catering to the same masters. However, I am also of the opinion that we cannot complain or expect a substantial improvement of policy and economics to come about if we are unwilling to be a part of the process. Jay Smooth hit the nail on the head when he spoke about the T-Pain and Sean Hannity incident. I was going to insert quotes from the episode, but the video provides so much more context. Check it:

Let's be clear: Dead Prez is n o t h i n g like T-Pain, I'll give you that. I'm a huge fan of their music and their willingness to speak out about everything from politics to veganism. In a sense, though, it's like - why even speak about or worry with politics if your talking isn't giving the people the change that we need? I mean, honestly, that Mau Mau shit can only go so far; if you want to have opinions about the process and not participate in it then fine, but realize that your opinions run the people straight to a dead end. You know why? Because, while you may only be one person, you should realize the more people that get down with the withdrawal from meaningful political activism (shit that is noticeably effective) means there are fewer people hitting the ballots - ergo, fewer votes going to ~~the lesser of the evils~~ the candidate that actually believes in change.

I realize that President Obama is one man. I realize that he is one man that is representative of so much, and that any genuine change in anything does not occur overnight (like I told my ex-boyfriend..ziiing!). However, I also realize that he could not have gotten into office without the Black community and I am of the opinion that other "agendas" have been catered to in a peculiar order. I think that it is amazing that so much has been completed, and I give big ups to President Obama. However, I also know that my people are looking at him like he's a unicorn and since he's in office, the pressure is off of them to promote change and push for policy. And it isn't.

At any rate, this post was supposed to move in a more lighthearted direction than it has taken; I finally got to see the video re-cap from the White House Corespondents' Dinner and as I laughed my behind off at President Obama's cracking jokes, I remembered why I initially decided to support him. Even when under scrutiny for insignificant bullshit like, say, whether or not he is a US Citizen, he's still cool as a fan. He's a charismatic guy, and not sweating in front of the opposition is what really pisses people off about him. Plus, his nerdy jokes about politics and pop culture illustrates his intelligence. Take a look:

I don't get caught up in "hope" any more than I get caught up in "luck". Just because he's charismatic doesn't mean we should fall back and follow him blindly. Black people, it's okay to be critical of the President's political movements. It doesn't make you an Uncle Tom. It doesn't make you a hater. It makes you a politically active mind! I believe in skills, and I believe that if you want something, you make it happen. So, like Waka Flacka says...ohledoooiit! No? Nothing? After that serious comedy I just shared, I get crickets?! Pffft. Whatever.

Be Righteous.

Mmmm. Soul Food sans Meat!

2010-05-02T12:17:00.005-04:00

In gaining employment after what seemed to be an eternity and re-working my entire life's schedule, I've been extremely busy and have yet to work out a consistent regime by which to adhere for updating the blog! At any rate, over the last week or two, I've had so many ideas and experiences swirl through my mind but have had limited time to sit down and actually write everything out. I'm thinking of a master plan...

Now that I'm finally getting on my feet, my next order of business is meeting people with similar interests and characteristics as myself. Last week, a friend of mine from home referred me to a local vegan soul food restaurant and I became so excited. Ever heard that adage you are what you eat? Well, honestly..I believe what a person eats speaks a lot about them and their beliefs and mentality. I could get into it and go deep, but here's my example: I could not date a guy that eats pork. I mean, I'm only just slightly more flexible with beef or other mammals, but I'm largely anti-swine.

Again, I'm not ~~always~~ perfect; I try to be conscious of the foods that I eat. While I do eat poultry occasionally and majorly fish, I go days without any "meat" and eat veggies, beans, rice, tofu. So, when I decided upon what I just learned to be one of a few vegan soul food spots in the area, I was so very excited and satisfied. The people there were engaging; there were oils and soaps and clothing sold there. The fact that it has a loose religious affiliation matters not for several reasons (that might turn into another post in itself). I meant to take a photo of the building and of my food, but got caught up in the atmosphere so quickly.

I ordered a Brunch platter. This consisted of: steamed broccoli, grits, vegan sausage patties, tofu scramble and juice. Wow. It's filling, healthy, organic, no animal by-products, no caffeine...homemade. Just plain wonderful. For...drumroll...ten bucks! Amazing? I think so.

I think it's admirable to promote healthier eating habits within (and with-out) our communities. I know that it's difficult for a lot of Negroes to wean themselves from eating ~~thewhiteman's~~ swine, or cow, or anything else. It doesn't coincide in my beliefs, and again, not that I have a perfect body by any means, but I think that being conscious of the chemicals and, well, just plain nasty shit that we put in our bodies. We lead the planet in being affected negatively by numerous health problems!

Again, I wish I had taken a picture, but it does look partially like the above photo. And I felt as though I made a connection with the people. No doubt, I'll be back!

Be Righteous.

The Dating Game Revisited

2010-04-26T12:56:00.003-04:00

I work nights. Not just nights, but nights on the weekend. And I'm okay with that, because my priority is making money and becoming (more) established on my journey. I've been meeting a few ~~losers~~ folks here and there, but I still don't find myself going out much. At any rate, a couple of months ago I met a guy from the islands at a restaurant and we got into a political discussion about Black conservatives. We exchanged numbers and began communication; there was no instant attraction on my part, and I was seeing ~~a 30-year-old-kid~~ someone, but it's nice to know someone in the area. I'm all about meeting people - especially people who are able to actually vocalize an opinion on anything political.

While at work Saturday night, and totally out of the blue, this guy sends some texts asking me to come over after I got off at 8am Sunday morning. I didn't think much of it, though we actually never hung out beyond the conversation at the restaurant. It didn't take much, but I acquiesced. I mean, what else do I have to do on a Sunday after work? He lives five minutes away from my house, too, so it wasn't like I was inconveniently making my way though traffic to spend thirty minutes with him. So, I went, expecting coffee and breakfast. It wasn't a date but my naivete thought that perhaps we'd be kickin' it and discussing Climate Legislation over fresh fruit. Right?

Well, I walk up the stairs to the apartment. We talked about life, caught up a little bit and all. His apartment looks as though he just moved in - he has an airbed in the living room and a huge plasma tv there as well, but the only chairs are at the bar. And then..he asked for a hug and grabbed my butt! Of course I corrected his behavior and walked to the other side of the room for my bottled water. And...I spied with my little eye a huge Lord and Taylor bag (with dresses hanging out), an Arden B. bag, and a bottle of Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion (and I know my Bath and Body Works!).

Now, I wasn't as naive to think "well, maybe he has a roommate" since he smelled like the lotion. I excused myself to the restroom, disgusted, and turned the sink on so that I could ~~snoop around~~ brainstorm. I'm a cop's kid; I have quirky antics and move into CSI-mode when I'm trying to find out info about people. As a matter of fact, I've researched guys that have been interested in my best friend before she decided whether or not she wanted to go out with them; it isn't an obsession and I'm not a female Hitch and I'm not big on prejudgments -- I just think that knowing certain things about people before involving yourself with them could save a stress headache and a lot of time. Further, even guys ~~like my ex-boyfriend~~ that present as "normal", well balanced and successful individuals can turn out to be total toads. Ask me how I know?

I don't have trust issues until I've been faced with evidence that I shouldn't trust someone. In a flash, I pulled back the shower curtain - only one towel, no women's body wash. I looked under the sink and still nothing. But then, I noticed shed hair on the bathroom floor and the sink. Having been a sister with relaxed hair at one point in my life, I know how disgustingly non-natural hair sheds once you brush it. My 58-second bathroom sweep was good enough for me, and I flushed and walked out. I passed a room with a door closed and walked back to the living room area, to find this Negro stretched out on the airbed; he was fully clothed. I wasn't interested in sitting, just because I kinda knew where it was headed. And then my detective eye spotted something else - two hairpins on the opposite side of the bed.

I expressed that I was getting tired from working all night and that I was going to go. He hugged me and there it was: I got poked, and saw in that instant a condom was on the airbed where he was laying. Huh? Negro, PLEASE! Who cares if you live a magnum lifestyle? You're a jerk. And I am leaving. The more I recite this story, the sicker I get with myself for even thinking that breakfast was a rational option at 9am on Sunday morning.

I suppose this story is the foundation for a larger question that is not as long winded; my question to you is...SERIOUSLY??

It's The Small Things...:)

2010-04-23T09:51:00.008-04:00

There's something about taking advantage of the small things in life that lends a sense of liberation. For instance, every now and then ~~likewhenhellfreezesover~~, I'll turn my Blackberry off. Or cut all of my hair off (though that's a different sense of liberation all together!). Janet Jackson and Luther Vandross had a song once upon a time, and you know something? They were right: the best things in life are free. To me, though, there is absolutely nothing in life like deleting someone's number from your phone.

Okay, listen. I'm not typically into passive-aggressive bullshit. It isn't my style. There's very little about me that says "passive". There's just nothing like going through my phonebook and saying: "Self, I'm gonna delete so-and-so's number since we don't ever talk at all any more." See? No beef there, right?

Truth be told, it always feels best when you have a vendetta; real or imaginary, it's all the same. The emotion has to be there. Can I be real, son? Like real-real? My favorite part about ending any sort of relationship is looking at my phone, after I've said everything I needed to say, and proclaiming aloud (but not to the person because once I've decided to delete their number, there's no more room for an argument): "Eff YOU, this is ME being the bigger person; I'm taking control of the situaton and moving forward without you! Youaretheweakestlink - GOODBYE!"

That shit is real. It's therapy. I'd like to challenge everyone that gets caught up with a loser to try it. You don't even have to be as gully as I am with it. Just take a deep breath, make your mind up and say "if I can delete this number, I can delete this jerk out of my life."

Some ties are okay to cut. Some stress needs to be released. And if you can't make a drastic change like cutting off all your hair or quitting your jobs and moving states away semi-spontaneously, I'd suggest opening your address book, finding the person you never speak to (or the most worthless mofo in your life), and deleting their number. Especially if they've begun to fall in your liability column. I do believe in direct communication, but some things are circumstantial. And anyway, it's waaaaay better than a text message break-up, no?

To the small things in life -- cheers!

Rape Victims: Who Cares?

2010-04-19T10:57:00.006-04:00

As an advocate and activist, I find myself constantly reminding people that people choose not to report rape/sexual assaults (and may even change their mind down the road) for a number of reasons. While crime dramas can sometimes do a great job portraying how things maybemightsometimes go down, there are a lot of situations that aren't necessarily as "ideal" as TV makes them to be. I'm not going to jump on my "the police aren't your friends" soapbox because I have a confused relationship with the law: I've disclosed being a Detective's kid, and I've also butt heads with several police officers (that know him!). I've read about tensions between Black people and the police, and I've even seen police in my current city go overboard (leave it to me to relocate to South Central, lol). I mean, even my Detective father instructed me on dealing with the local police upon moving because of their heavy-handed reputation. With that said, I have also found myself having to remind all people of this fact: the images that you see on television are for entertainment - they are not real. In other words, the smart, witty, passionate, hardworking detectives you see on Law and Order: SVU are not real people; not every police officer you encounter will have the same caring-"we're-gonna-get-the-bad-guy"-attitude. I am not completely of the opinion that, as a member of the Black community, the support of the police is always lesser. Yet, the Black community minimizes contact with police on a number of issues and a main issue is sexual assault. Sexual Assault Awareness Month fact: 60% of rapes go unreported. With the knowledge that Black women are compounded with the tension of race and the police, can you imagine the statistic for Black women who are sexually assault?

I've had the pleasure of collaborating with the police in combating sexual assault and advocating for victims. I've met SVU detectives that I felt should be in a different line of work. On one occasion, I was advocating for an 18 year old Black lady that had been sexually assault by a way older family friend. She told me that the investigating detective, a white woman, told her that it was her fault she was raped. Ideally, the police would work together with advocates and, maybe sometimes, they do; yet, it is difficult to bridge the gap when there are few Black women advocating (because of the inherited silence on the matter) and when young Black women are being told by the police that there would be no investigation on their attack - proof or not - because of something they did to perpetuate the attack.

I browsed this article on Alternet a couple of days ago, and my attention was redirected to it last night by my good friend Rippa (check out his blog: The Intersection of Madness and Reality). The story is, unfortunately in my experience, not uncommon: young woman drugged and date raped, goes to police, is given the run around, and ultimately, not believed by the authorities. Further, the authorities try convincing her that she was drunk (when she was drugged!). This happened to a student of an HBCU, so if you assumed she was a young white girl by default, figure race into the equation. Now, read on, The Story of the Night Hannah Was Not "Officially" Raped:

April 17, 2010

On Saturday, Dec. 9, 2006, Hannah* woke up in her Howard University dorm room with a piece of her life missing. Hannah, a 19-year-old sophomore, had unexplained pain in her rectum and hip. Her panty liner, which she had worn the night before, was missing. Vomit dotted her gloves and coat. Her friend Kerston lay beside her in the skinny dorm room bed. Kerston told Hannah not to shower -- they had to go back to the hospital to secure a rape kit. That weekend, Hannah claims that she was provided the following excuses for why she could not receive a sexual assault medical forensic examination: She was drunk; she ate a sandwich; she was a liar; she didn't know her attacker's last name; the police had to authorize the exam; she was outside the hospital's jurisdiction; she wasn't reporting a real crime; she was blacked out; she changed her story; her case was already closed.

The article continues:

"We think she's been raped," Kerston and Sade informed an orderly as they dragged her into the hospital. Hospital officials handed Sade some paperwork to fill out on Hannah's behalf. In the box indicating the reason for the ER visit, Sade testifies that she wrote, "raped, possibly drugged." A nurse sat Hannah down and took her blood pressure. Hannah threw up on the floor. Kerston and Sade helped to clean it up off of the ground. The nurse put a vomit bag in Hannah's hands. She was incoherent and barely conscious. She threw up into the bag. According to the girls' testimony, when a doctor finally saw Hannah, she determined that she was too incoherent to consent to receive a rape kit, because she couldn't verbally confirm that she had been raped. According to the girls, the doctor told them to take Hannah home, let her sleep it off, make sure she didn't shower, and then return to Howard University Hospital for a rape kit the next day. When the girls begged the doctor to treat Hannah's symptoms of sexual assault and drugging, the girls claim that the doctor told them to leave the ER. (The doctor testified that she informed Hannah's friends that they would have to wait six to eight hours before Hannah was treated, and that the girls chose to leave the hospital without treatment). When Kerston and Sade took Hannah back to her dorm, she threw up again.

This incident is also in my new location, and I have to catch myself from saying what should have happened since I am a newbie to the area. However, where I used to live, this is what, ideally, would have happened: immediately taken to triage based on the symptoms, an advocate from the local sexual assault agency called, and then, if the victim indicates, the police will be called. It should happen in that order (if the victim is over 18 years old) because of (new) blind reporting legislation that allows the victim, as long as there are no sustained injuries, to decide whether or not she would like to press charges. The advocate should arrive before a rape kit is done to ensure procedure is followed, the support the victim, and to serve as a liaison between the hospital and the victim. I am of the opinion that if any of these links are missed, if any part of the protocol is skipped, then it falls apart at the interest of the victim.

There are so many organizations in this area that advocate for victims and, from what I've heard, they do a wonderful job. What happened to "Hannah" this night was a complete disaster on so many fronts beyond the physical and mental trauma associated with being sexually assaulted; "Hannah" faced every rape victims fear: not being believed or treated fairly and, ultimately, being punished for her victimization.

Be Righteous.

Contemporary Favorites: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

2010-04-18T18:19:00.006-04:00

One of my all-time favorite contemporary films is "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and I'd be willing to offer that every person who has ever had a failed relationship must see it. Beyond the plot which is unique in itself, I love the utilization of non-linear narration films/series of films (and books - to those of you who know of my utter adoration of "The Time Traveler's Wife"). I find it to be engaging and it really brings me into the plot because I have to make sense of the pieces. The movies that I tend to "favorite" are the ones I own two copies of ~~and at one point or another, watch every night for comfort~~, and I definitely own two copies of this one.

For an indy film, it has an all star cast: Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Elijah Wood, Mark Ruffalo, Tom Wilkinson, and David Cross. I love Jim Carrey. I have all of his movies and I think that he is underrated as a "serious" actor versus a comedian. The rest of the cast seem to be a great bunch and I don't feel as though there was forced chemistry between the actors in the film.

Plot. The plot, to me, opens up a realistic-ish sci-fi complication to human romantic relationships - would you "erase" someone from your memory? The story focuses in on Joel and Clementine's relationship and a company that you can pay to have a person permanently removed from your memory. Joel and Clementine have real chemistry, but for multiple reasons (Clementine's reckless spontaneity, Joel's wish-washy emotional unavailability) they just don't work out. It happens to the best of relationships; people are unwilling to grow or change and they lose and, ultimately, realize it is a loss in the 9th inning. The movie shows the erasure of memories from Joel's mind - which is retaliatory to Clementine's erasing him first - and through the unraveling of fussing, detachment, separation and other bad memories come the pleasant memories of the initial infatuation. Once Joel (and the image of Clementine in his memory) realizes that he doesn't want to erase her, he cannot be awakened through the process, and so in his love-sick slumber, they spend the movie hiding in other memories and running away from the machine that will, ultimately, zap his mind and make his life Clementine-free. The plot twist, however, is that..it doesn't.

Being a classic over-thinker, I wondered through this movie if I would be willing to have someone erased from my memory. I highly doubt it, because I'm the person that believes we grow from the experiences that we have with good people and bad people, and our current character depends on our past. Yet, there's always the desire to get rid of someone for good; outside of romantic relationships, who wants to remember negative traumatic events and the people (or animals) leading to them? Who wants to deal with being caught in the cycle of a break-up that just won't break? That's so passe, and we know how I feel about passe-bullshit.

It also has one of my favorite quotes: "I'm not a concept; I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for her own peace of mind -- don't assign me yours."

It's a good one.

Thoughts for My Brothers

2010-04-14T11:06:00.004-04:00

As much as it pains me to have to discuss this, I really want to have a discussion as respectfully as possible to Black men. I love my brothers. I think that Black men and women should work together. Yet, as a Black woman, I'm tired of battling with men, both Black and white, about the inherited privilege simply based on gender in a historical and sociocultural aspect. The forms of oppression that Black men face are very real,, but to deny that Black men have been recipients of privilege s in and of itself, a sexist attitude.

I've found that there has been difficulty in exploring and admitting to being advantaged in a society where privilege is given to men as a default. It makes me shake when I hear Black men claiming they are the most disadvantaged group of people in the US. I would have to disagree. Again, the disadvantage and oppression of Black men has been very real, but Black men have also had the ability to oppress, and that's where privilege is rooted.

I just would like to share some links, instead of ranting on and looking like I hate men/Black men, when I clearly do not. I love brothers very much, but I also know that in the face of fact, there are situations that have systemically and inherently left Black men at an advantage based on gender. This does not speak to the systematic oppression of Black men by white society; my argument does not invalidate the fact that racism and systemic oppression exists toward Black men. This is about the privileges. My passion is to bring awareness; I just hope that someone is listening. I cannot reiterate enough that my point is not to bash the Black men that love; yet, my research lies in sociology and women's studies, and my own personal interests include Black history and sociology.

So, here are two very wonderful links that I hope will help Black men (and women) think. Understanding does not come over night. This isn't to pit anybody against anyone else.

The Black Male Privileges Checklist - Jewel Woods
Black Male Privilege? - an NPR report

Be Righteous.

Save The Males! Eye Roll

2010-04-14T09:21:00.005-04:00

This morning began a little disastrously. I woke up to my phone vibrating; it was my aunt calling from outside, needing me to give her truck a jump. She doesn't know how to use cables, so I rolled out of bed, slid on my flip flops, and grabbed my keys. Half asleep, I attached the cables and sat in my truck. The temperature was a lot cooler than I anticipated. Definitely too cool to be outside in my nightdress and flip flops, but I didn't mind. After I finished, I went back inside and debated between breakfast and more sleep, and I chose breakfast. While heating up the skillet, I turned to CNN to catch the last bit of American Morning and, boy, was I in for a treat!

"Save the Male." There's a group of ~~rich white~~ men that are trying to resurrect the "macho" man. Clothing stores are carrying "retrosexual" instead of "metrosexual" ensembles in an effort to bring back "manly" men. Colleges are wanting to teach "male studies" -- which, according to the report, discusses the biology of what makes a member of the male gender what he innately should be: powerful, dominating, and aggressive. They also shared that, in the 60s, life for the American male was so much simpler and as a result, of a higher quality. Things were sooo much better when the man was the head of the household, the breadwinner, the one in charge. Oh, and everything that we are doing in society today is "feminizing" men.

I didn't want to eat after that, because a few things ran through my mind:
1. This is ridiculous. People attempting to define what it means socially to be a man pisses me off as much as (the same) people attempting to define what it means socially to be a woman.
2. The 60s were only "simpler" for white men; Black men were getting hosed and beaten, and even still lynched. Oh, and the attitudes of the 60s also included the justification of beating a woman, since you were in charge and the head of the household. And people want to revert back to that?
3. Are men still whining about not having equal rights when women can't even have full protection and rights to our own bodies in the eyes of the laws, even up to new policies?
4. Who gets to decide what "masculine" actually means? And how? And why?
5. Is this just a way to bash women's empowerment without directly doing it? I can only imagine some paid white dude sitting back with his feet up and smoking a cigar saying, "if we can't get the women to act like 'women'...then we'll just have to be hyper-masculine! That will balance it all out!" followed by an evil laugh.
6. The report uses "machismo", which is supposed to be a negative term for the sexist and/or chauvinistic attitude of some in the Hispanic/Latin/Spanish-speaking world, as a positive modifier.
7. The comments on the American Morning live chat are sick; one dude commented that women in the work force creates a confusion of "roles" in relationships. Seriously?
8. Are the same people in charge of this "movement" also in charge of this whole Tea Party bullshit?
9. I'm sure that the "Male Studies" programs will get more funding than Women's Studies programs. I remember how the programs struggled - at every school I attended. #justsayin

Does this really have to be revisited? This makes me think of an anecdote told to me by an associate of mine:
As a kid, he grew up watching his father run the household as "the man". He witnessed his father being a rolling stone, doing whatever he pleased and coming home. Even, on some occasions, witnessed his father hitting his mother. Fast forward to the years where he was in his youth, guessing at relationships. He recycled the behavior that he saw because he didn't understand that 1. that wasn't the "right" way and 2. even if it was "acceptable" then, it wasn't appropriate for modern times. He used outdated techniques and failed in relationships early on because he didn't see a need for the social evolution in relationships. He was wrong.

I am not a "feminazi", as some would call it. I have strong opinions, I am vocal about them, I don't believe in "roles" in relationships, and I loathe most unneccesary labels.

Why are white men in powerful positions so stuck on how "disadvantaged" they are? What is the matter with accepting new attitudes? Even if it isn't for you, why does it bother you so much that younger men have a different way of life? It makes me sick to my stomach. It doesn't anger me that hetersexual men have "pride", but it does make me want to bang my head against the wall that words and attitudes adopted have an admittedly homophobic and/or sexist undertone; there's no righteous anger in it.

It's all very silly and confusing. So what if a man doesn't know how to do "manly" things like jump a car? I've got cables in the trunk, I can teach him! That's what relationships and human nature should be about.

Sigh. And woosa.

Be Righteous.

Sassy Jazzy Asiatic Queen

2010-04-13T12:31:00.004-04:00

It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, what's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection to which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name! And for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.
-Julet, "Romeo and Juliet"

As an assignment for my job, I need to come up with a confidential alias under which I will conduct business. I began thinking of names, but something I don't have in common with most people is my adoration of my own name. I honestly don't think another name would ever fit me; me and my name were meant for each other. My first name is poetic and commanding, my middle is melodious. At any rate, I got to thinking: if I had to be called something else, what would it be?

As a classic over-analyzer, I began thinking this through, as though I'm really getting a new name. I came up with quite a few names, though none were my name. I then began texting away to the people close to me, wondering what names they could think up and how I was really perceived.

It's funny; as someone who is so quick to dismiss and run away from most labels, I think that there is a lot of value in a name. ~~Like every other female I've ever met~~ I've thought of names I could name children if such an occasion presented itself.

Many of my close friends came up with similar names, and even many of the same names that I thought of. And a friend of mine, not understanding the question, decided that the most fitting name for me would be Sassy Jazzy Asiatic Queen.

That one put a smile on my face.

Be Righteous.

Am I Trippin'?

2010-04-09T20:53:00.003-04:00

I often find that, in relationships, I try to see the good in people. I loathe excuses and I don't settle for less than I feel my worth to be. Yet, once I decide upon "liking" a person, I'm convinced that they will always consistently maintain the positive qualities that I initially saw in them. Call me crazy, but I hold people to the same expectation that I try to hold myself: remain sincere and change for the better.

I don't think that good people change for the bad (or exhibit their lacking) overnight; and as a matter of fact, I think that more often than not, the changes are unintentional. Of course, this begs the question of how "good" they really are since they spiraled to a real of this different persona, but I'd prefer to see the light in people. I also think that, in relationships, some people put on a facade and exaggerate their better qualities (or the qualities that you want to see) and it fades because it's difficult to push yourself to be a person that you aren't. Na'mean? Anyway, call me crazy but I like to be real-real all the time. Sometimes relationships don't work. They don't have to end negatively. And they can certainly be resolved by two responsible adult persons amiably if both people are upfront and direct, yet respectful.

Despite whatever way my last relationship ended (and without ultimately blasting my own business and appearing disrespectful), I'm well versed in the art of letting people go and moving forward. I'm risiliant; and I have always been able to weather any storm. As a matter of fact, I was explaining my new job to a friend of mine, and explained to him that some people were just born to deal with trauma. And I'm that person; I've dealth with every end and aspect of it and I'm built for it.

I went on a literal trip today, and eased down the road and away from the city to a cozier, more familiar city states away that I am proud to call the place of my origins. I figured it was an awesome opportunity; my uncle happened to be driving down for the weekend and I had a ~~free-99~~ free ride. My uncle and I have a wonderful relationship; he is like a father to me. I do have my own father that I love very much, yet if I should ever ~~take the plunge~~ get married, I want them both to walk me down the aisle. Though I am very private, I can confide in him. He knows my attitude and origins. He knows who I am, without needing the unneccesary details about most of my relationships. He does know a few exes, and doesn't care of them but he (usually) respects the fact that I can fight my own battles.

So what are the odds that over an hour south of the place where I currently reside, my uncle decides to stop in a town I hadn't heard of until a few months prior to get coffee. The town where my ex works. Where I first met him. Where I was convinced that, though I felt as if I had been duped, I could grow to enjoy being with him. When I just knew he was a wonderful, relatively "perfect" guy, even in his imperfections. I closed my eyes for a second and pictured the moment I met him. I could feel that instant. It was a happy moment. I can hear him in my head, "what are you doing driving this big truck?" I remember the butterflies I felt. And the blushing. I can tell you what he wore. I can tell you, with confidence, that he was happy.

It was different before the change, whenever or however it occured. Intentionally or unintentionally. It was a different time, a time before the mine fields and repeated forgiveness of neglect. I was over the relationship, having removed myself from it. I was totally over it, but when we got off the highway, I could only think of him. Of a different version of "us".

My mind raced. The second we pulled off at the exit, the good I saw in him, the transition to the bad, the sour taste he left in my mouth after unfulfilled promises, the dissatisfaction with more personal situations. These thoughts all came to me, swirled in my mind at once and created a quilt of unusual emotions: I wasn't confused a bit. I don't want him after how he regarded me for attempting to be respectful about his shortcomings. I don't want him after all the nights I sat in the house on dates that were broken. I don't want him after he backed me into a corner so that I would break up with him. Yet and still, the thoughts swirled, mixing the amazing qualities I saw in him initially with the way things were.What if I run into him. What if he took a Starbucks run at the exact same instant I decided upon a latte? No Starbucks for me then, I'll have coconut water. What if, in the second I dashed through the supermarket, trying not to miss my ride to the good old Dixie, I bumped into him on the foreign foods aisle? How would I feel? Would I want to kiss him? Would I want to break his face? Would I be able to ignore him? What if, when we stopped for gas at the station he once directed me to, he was also pumping gas? If I saw him would he ignore me? Probably. Would I be pissed at him for not being able to behave as an adult and discuss an issue with me? Would my uncle, always ready to challenge an opposing fraternity member, be ready to jack him up for leaving his favorite niece bitter? Would he push me to the dark side with his refusal to remain real with me? I can probably see his car from here...would he respond if I sent him a message?

While this seems as though it would have been drawn out, it wasn't. These thoughts all hit me for a split second and I took a deep breath and traveled on for coconut water. Being the initiator, I wasn't upset by the break-up, but by the change. I wasn't crying or caught up, and my bounceback only took a minute: instead of sitting in the house miserable for a change, I was out and enjoying life. It was a beautiful Spring in the District and I was enjoying it with good company and family.

I'm not crazy. I don't like dramatic break-ups or unnecessary performances that draw more attention to a situation than is required. I don't believe in focusing on the bad; I never once muttered all of the bad to my best girlfriends, even. What's the point? I'm only human. I want to believe that he is too.

We pressed on. On through our journey, our trip to the South. And in that instant, I pressed on through my trip. I'm glad it's over.

2010-04-09T08:58:00.001-04:00

Heading out of town for the weekend. An update about the ride is soon to come...happy Friday, m'loves! I'm tweeting away (@iamMEchelle)!!

With a Captial "R"

2010-04-08T09:41:00.002-04:00

I've been avoiding doing another Tiger Woods post, largely because I think that it has all just been blown way out of proportion and, to me, I'm tired of seeing the horse being beaten. I understand that it can't die because, according to some people, that's what happens when you're in a position where people are watching you. I understand that when some people mess up real reaaaaal bad, they want to keep shouting "it was a mistake! I'm a stand-up guy!" I understand that the person typically viewed as "the man" isn't really the man by himself; yet, there are forces behind the man, namely money and more powerful men, that control this man's future.

But for the love of goodness, I think that this has gone on long enough. I'm tired of Tiger apologizing to people that aren't personally affected by his marital misconduct and sexual wrongdoings. This has been going on since November and it's getting (capital R-uh) Ridiculous!

Nike's new ad features Tiger staring at the camera and the voice of Tiger Woods's dead father, Earl Woods, in the background. And while maybe this was one of the more personal things that Tiger had to struggle with in facing himself and his ~~horny irresponsibility~~ "sex addiction", I don't really get it. I mean...seriously?

Fiction, a free-writing experiment.

2010-04-06T08:54:00.005-04:00

"...You see, long before the time we know, the sun was black, and the world was dipped in the darkness provided. And I was there."
The company still at the dinner party, many of them drowning in the dark wine provided by the hosts, my own host, merely laughed their drunken giggles at the concept I was providing them. And I felt the burning inside.
A younger yet graying woman sensed my discomfort. I could smell her sweat across the room, and I gave her a sideways grin. This meant that, the tiniest bit of her believed what I was saying; and though it was completely against the logic that she knew...she knew.
I am not like them.
"I am not like you," I breathed, forcefully to the drunken fools. I felt the inner burning again.
The uncomfortable graying woman shifted and shot her dizzy husband a look of confused terror. My dark skin began to fill with a flushed rose tone, and I needed to stand.
Eddie Porter walked over to be with a glass for water in hand and offered it to me with expressed concern. Eddie was the man that many women in town flocked toward; a city mouse himself, he presented as sly and intelligent. If I were the same species as he, I would readily offer my love to him; yet, knowing that I am not, that I do not love, that I cannot offer a heart that I do not have, I have to remain focused on my goal: these townspeople need to know that there time is narrowing.
"When the sun was black, the earth was at its warmest and my people, the dark people, were birthed from the depths of the soil. Out of the pit of darkness came a species of soot-colored warriors."
Eddie didn't speak. No one spoke. They were at an intersection where their inebriation contained their fear, but their logic spoke to the seriousness of my tone.
"These warriors ruled the world before the sun's transition to the color of its brighter burning."
The burning within me was glowing and the time was nearing. I winced; the heat was moving toward an unbearable sensation. My skin began to sweat.
"You have to listen to me!" I shouted, but really, I was pleading. For their benefit. Honestly, I did not know what to expect past the anticipation of this burning in my abdomen. I had no guidance. Years ago, the dark people left the planet, and left me behind. The humans were our enemies, and I, being half human, could not be trusted. My dark skin mattered not; the lineage of my immortal brethren made me immortal. Yet, the mortal drop of the unknown in my blood confused the very biology of my inner warrior and my nature, too, became a mixed array of emotions and logic as the Return neared. Something was happening. And I had no guidance because I was one-of-a-kind.
It wasn't until I noticed that the looks of unease became horrified that I realized I was screaming in a pitch like a foreign language, and could not stop it.
The burning was visible.
Something was happening. The long and thick rope-braid of my hair became untangled from my dainty up-do and my bush-like hair thickened.
The graying woman began shaking, tears streaming from her face.
The room was silent and I had the floor. They were listening.

Weekend Cypher

2010-04-05T14:43:00.007-04:00

While most of my friends and family enjoyed their religious festivities, I had one of the best weekends I've had since moving. My personal rundown? Well, let's see: three dates in two days (hey, a rolling stone gathers no moss), movies and family time, beautiful warm weather, great music and...becoming employed!! Beyond that, I remedied a little pest problem and it actually kick started the kickassery of my weekend.

Other than that, some happenings of the weekend in my cypher include:

The Roots dropping a J Dilla tribute album, downloadable for free here

The 42nd anniversary of the Assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

The iPad drops. Not sure how interested I am, but ~~Dwight K. Schrute~~ Rainn Wilson just tweeted: "I wish my iPad were smaller and made calls, or that it folded up and had a keyboard attached." Ha!

Last week, Common posted the Just Wright Mixtape on his blog, another free download, and it is sooooo good. Love me a good R&B Mixtape!

Erykah Badu is getting heat for her new video...faces a fine of $500. (I also awakened Sunday morning to find that one of my peoples had delivered the new album -along with tons of other great music- to me. LOVE it!)

Earthquakes hit SoCal and Mexico, and also Northern California

Stephanie Meyer is putting out another vampire book (based on a minor character mentioned in Eclipse) for my fellow Twi-hards. I'm. So. Stoked.

And the MLB season is upon us. Even though the Yankees lost last night, I'm super excited. Plenty of games to go, Yanks! Let's win-win-win!

...other than that, the world is still a crazy place and I'm still the same ol' G. See?

Rape of 7 Year Old in Jersey

2010-04-05T11:59:00.002-04:00

I was discussing this incident with my aunts this weekend, and it's a difficult thing to understand. Where does a fifteen year old even get it in her mind that selling her seven year old sister -- let alone herself -- and allowing several men (who should know better) to do something like this? Why is a twenty year old man at a party with a fifteen year old girl? Very frustrating.

The upside of anger is that the Hip Hop Community is set to become active in raising awareness as a result of this incident. While it may be a little late, it's inspiring. Especially when Black women activists like myself have mixed emotions about our relationship with hip hop.

Be Righteous.

Lovely Song Quotes: Erykah Badu

2010-04-04T13:53:00.002-04:00

"I'm a recovering undercover over-lover."

...why didn't I think of that first?

Opening Day...

2010-04-04T13:36:00.002-04:00

...let's play ball!

Yankees v. Red Sox

8pm.

See you there!

Lovely Book Quotes: Sophie's Choice

2010-04-02T11:41:00.002-04:00

"I was grateful for that if for nothing else, since my youth, I felt, was at its lowest ebb. At twenty-two, struggling to become some kind of writer, I found that the creative heat which at eighteen had nearly consumed me with its gorgeous, relentless flame had flickered out to a dim pilot light registering little more than a token glow in my breast, or wherever my hungriest aspirations once resided."

I also love when my favorite books double as favorite films.

My First Love/Love of My Life

2010-04-01T11:22:00.003-04:00

Few people besides my classmates know that I began college as a double major in Creative Writing and...vocal music. Music has always been a very important part of my being. As a matter of fact, allow me to explain:

Back in the day, in the late 70s and early 80s, my pops was a DJ. Before they were Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five (link for all the peeps who don't know music), my pops did a little DJaying for them. Also, my first cousin was Big DS in the group 90s rap group Onyx; he would go on to leave the group and he passed away when I was in high school because complications with Hodgkin's Disease. I have New York roots, which might be why it's so hard for me to give up on hip-hop. When I was born, my father named me. My nickname from him (and often my alternate ringtone) is D-Nice ("takin' out you suckas and you don't know how I did it!"). My middle name, and the name that only a few people with the exception of my Mom refer to me as, comes straight from a song; though originally a Paul McCartney song (Michelle), my pops heard my name is Slickk Rick and Doug E. Fresh's "The Show" and...there you have it - MeChelle was born (andyabetterspellitright)! I was born music.

Before I could talk, I was wailing music. I've heard stories of my screaming and crying in the crib when my dad would sing "Roxaaaaaaaanne" to me, because he wasn't singing it right! I've heard stories of my singing Keith Sweat while in my carseat. I sang in choirs from the time I was able to be in public until my sophomore year in college. I was in the top choirs in my high school (and we sang at Carnegie Hall); I sang for Bill Clinton and Bob Dole in college as well. I can read and write music; I can play only a little piano. I decided, though, that you can love music and be talented at it without spending thousands of dollars in a music program at a school that isn't specifically known for their music program. That you don't have to study music in university to have a career in it; and so, I decided to go into a more "professional" program so that I could actually get a job.

At any rate, you can always tell when I'm in an exceptional mood because I sing.

This morning, I jumped in my truck tore it up searching for my "Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" cd. It's one of the only albums I can listen to straight through without interruption. When I couldn't find it, I popped in a number of other cds and I sang myself an hour away to an interview with my incredibly bright mood.

So, I figured I'd share five of the songs I sang as loudly as I could up I-95. Ready?

Couldn't find the original, but I listened to both and Alicia rocks out on hers..

The version with ~~my twin~~ Jill Scott is my favorite version of this song.

No subliminals; it was a great musical morning.

Peace.

My Convalescent Leave.

2010-03-31T18:30:00.001-04:00

I might love this.

Rape Video Games?

2010-03-31T10:55:00.003-04:00

Question:

Do we really need to discuss why a game that simulates sexual violence is NOT okay? Seriously? You stalk a girl of your choosing (that you can dress to your desire), rape her, even gang rape her and "suggest" she get an abortion, and the way to win the game is to rape her? And the rape, by the way, is a "revenge rape" -- which was motivated by accusations of molestation by the character in the game? And this is all okay because it's a video game? Are you f@*#ing kidding me?

And I can see a counter argument for this being violent video games being accessible and legal. And I think that while they are similar, it is a poor argument. This isn't new; I've expressed a clear disdain for Hentai and rape fantasy pornography in the non-internet-world before. It's sick, degrading, disgusting. Sexual violence is a whole 'nother ball game, folks.

Be Righteous.

Dream a little dream...

2010-03-31T10:43:00.002-04:00

To see a spider in your dream, indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or that you may want to keep your distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation.

To see a dog in your dream, symbolizes intuition, loyalty, generosity, protection, and fidelity. The dream suggests that your strong values and good intentions will enable you to go forward in the world and bring you success. Alternatively, it indicates a skill that you have ignored or forgotten. If the dog is vicious and/or growling, then it signifies some inner conflict within yourself. It may indicate betrayal and untrustworthiness.

To dream that you are chased by an animal, represents your own unexpressed and unacknowledged anger which is being projected onto that animal. Alternatively, you may be running away from a primal urge or fear.

All according to www.dreammoods.com.

Political Bullshit.

2010-03-30T23:20:00.005-04:00

I've been limiting my political commentary to the confines of my home and telephone just based on the fact that I get so riled up about it that I'd rather not ruin my laptop in the heat of the moment. I have so many opinions and my political opinions are among the ones best expressed vocally by me for whatever reason. Could simply be the fact that it's much easier for me to express my convictions offline, or it could be the fact that I get so physically expressive in my opinions that the other party becomes intimidated. In the last few weeks, I've been tearing my hair out in expressing my opinions to people who aren't very politically informed and complacent. I want to encourage people to develop well-rounded opinions, and with all the bullshit thrown at by the different media outlets it isn't easy. I'm not an expert, but I am thorough in developing opinions and becoming active in causes related to said opinions.

First thing's first, let's view this treat:

Now, I have a theory that I'll stand by until the end of time: I'd like to think that the Conservatives keep a Negro or two on their annual payroll for instances like in the above video. For their defense, they need a face of color (or a woman) to defend the bullshit that they are continually looking to feed the public as a harsh reality of circumstance. I don't even know if I want to address what he was saying because after a while, it started to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher: Wompwompwompwompwompwomp. I don't even know if he believed the things he was saying. I mean, how could he? Is he serious? When I first saw the above video, it was in real-time. I was having lunch at a restaurant I stumbled upon, and I looked around the restaurant and said, "is this MSNBC? Or Punk'd?"

Then, there was last night. Last night, I was flipping through channels and stumbled upon The O'Reilly Factor. I don't usually stop to listen to the talking heads, but I saw Reverend Al Sharpton handing Bill O'Reilly his ass, and I thought to sit in on the discussion. The discussion concerned whether or not the tea party is racist in ideology and action. Now, I am of the opinion that there is and will always be far right radical assholes around to defend the bullshit that goes on within the confines of white conservatism. Here's Rev Al and Bill O'Reilly's spat:

I wasn't entirely that riled up at their argument, because I think they were mainly fussing with using semantics to make their arguments stronger. I am concerned, though, with the fact that Brit Hume followed Al Sharpton's piece and, in so many words, argued about how unfair it was that white conservative people cannot get together and do racist bullshit together without being called racists. As a matter of fact, his words were that allegations of racism (by the tea party) were being thrown around "wrecklessly". Following Brit Hume was Bernie Goldberg, who said to quote, "no democratic candidate can have office without kissing Al Sharpton's rink." Of course, the only video clip I've found of last night's O'Reilly Factor was of Rev Al Sharpton. I guess the Conservatives throw the bullshit out there and then work really hard to make sure no one can sit and analyze it.

(Aside, I thoroughly enjoyed Tavis's discussion on the Black Agenda, but I do understand Rev Al's beef. There were so many powerful brothers and sisters in the building..it was DEEP!; my favorite part of it was the fact that it wasn't an attack on President Obama. Instead, it was a way to discuss pertinent issues and hold President Obama accountable -- like we do for every other President. I understand President Obama has a lot to work on right now, even after accomplishing a major feat in American political history just days ago. It's now or never, Pres. We support you.)

That aside, I'd really like to discuss the Republican Conservatives that are so caught up in battling anti-rape legislation and then want the people to sympathize with offensive bullshit from their mini-mes that depict the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES as a RAPIST? I hate directly linking bullshit to my blog but I really think I owe this to the internet world. And so, below is the cartoon I am referring to:

Not funny. Completely inaccurate. Not even the sentiment behind it is understandable. Completely distasteful. And while conservatives have fought against anti-rape legislation and even participated in victim-blaming, they want to use rape as a means to get the message out? I don't even have the words. Bullshit. And it isn't the first time President Obama has been depicted in a most degrading fashion in a doodle. #imjustsayin.

I had a former coworker/friend (white woman, for disclosure) from home contact me tonight and she told me that she received craziest phone calls at work tonight. Some red neck called threatening her boss, a Black man, multiple times -- called him every racist name in the book (and some shit I'd never heard of!) for...dating white women?

To all yous out there that are so convinced that this is post racial America, think again; it's 2010 and this is some ol' bullshit! Don't even get me started on the twerp that decided to post threats to President Obama's life..on Twitter. See above theory on Black conservatives.

Be Righteous.
And in the words of Dap, WAKE UP!!

Window Seat

2010-03-29T11:16:00.003-04:00

Well, I wrote a whole post on the "Window Seat" video, and in expressing my disdain for posting on what the rest of the internet universe was buzzing about, my draft did not save and I lost the post! I don't want to drone on about my opinion of the video, because needless to say -- I love Erykah Badu and I think she's beautiful, deep, and raw. I didn't want to do a post on the video, but I felt like people needed to see it. And if they've avoided Erykah's video until, somehow, stumbling upon my blog...I feel obligated to share. So, there.

I would like to commend Erykah for encouraging dialogue on twitter (yes, I'm following her on twitter) about the true meaning of the video and "group think". As someone who minored in Sociology, I think it's awesome that real artists are willing to try to deliver the message. My favorite part of the video is the dialogue at the end of the video about the assassination of the individual.

Be Righteous.

Spare the Rod...

2010-03-28T20:25:00.003-04:00

Well, for some reason stranger than the fact that I live with two tweens, children and child rearing have randomly been on my mind. As a post-college 20-something, my friends and classmates are beginning to marry and have kids. I can't sign on to facebook without seeing someone's status about how much they love being a mom. And that just plum weirds me out.

As a matter of fact, in my quest to meet people and make friends, I had recently begun speaking to ~~the village idiot~~ a guy who has expressed a strong interest in getting to know me (even though I stated that ~~we wouldn't date in a million years~~ I wasn't interested in romance at this point in time. See, I've got tact. More specifically, this guy asked me, in our first series of conversations, if I wanted children. I replied as earnestly as I typically do as such a query: "I don't see myself as a mom at this point in my life. [That is] One of those bridges me and my potential mate should cross together when we get there." He, himself, has four children (by the same person, from a previous marriage) and expressed that he wanted more. When I asked why he would want more, he said that he didn't know...*confused face*

I also have a good friend who I've discussed children with on many occasions. He's incredibly intelligent (and has several children himself, including a son that is older than I), and he believes ~~like most wackos~~ in certain aspects of eugenics. And while I'm not entirely certain that I'd be willing to buy into all of nature having control over the type of people your children will become, I can agree that I'm less than willing to donate my genetic material to someone I see unfit (..but isn't that what the courtship is about -- determining whether or not a person would be a good person to build a life with?).

At any rate, I had a very serious and sincere conversation with my Sula about child-rearing and the fact of the matter is -- the thought terrifies me. I'm admittedly very ~~unnecessarily~~ analytical most times, and I think that having children is something that people should be analytical about. And while she assured me that I wouldn't be a bad mom at all, I get terrified wondering if I will. Or, even, if I'll get bored or "over it" after a week's time and not know what to do after that. When I was younger, I was sure I wanted a gigantic family with a dozen kids. I even knew that I wanted to have a medication- (and possibly hospital)-free birth, which might sound strange but chalk it up to being too far into my natural-lifestyle and TLC/Discovery baby shows. And while they aren't infants, living with pre-teens has become rough a little difficult for me.

At the suggestion of one commenter I began reading "For Your Own Good: Hidden Cruelty in Child-rearing and the Roots of Violence" by Alice Miller. So far, I am very interested in the concepts presented. I'm sure I've mentioned not being a fan of spanking children a time or two before; I've also pointed out that my being a non-parent makes me easy to say such a thing. Yet, while I've not experienced being a parent (yet?), I have been a child who has spanked and I've seen the different effects and outcomes that it has had on me and my two siblings. I'm quite sure that I'm getting too personal in sharing, and that's because I'm raw(!), but I think that spanking did more negative in my life than positive. My ~~boo~~friend will argue this point since he works with and "knows" kids in a different (and far deeper) capacity than I do, and I'm cool with other opinions. I just don't think I'd spank.

Yet, back to my life in the present, I've found that my tween cousins are having a difficult time respecting me as an adult. I would like to believe that this is because they knew me when I was youngerthananadult(as I'm not that much older). At first they were cool with it, as I'm like the cool older sister they never had. Yet lately, since I've been here a couple of months and the newness has worn off, they've ~~turned into Satan's offspring~~ developed different attitudes.

I try to correct them when they say wrong. They don't care. I ask them what they learn in school, they reply "nothing". They aren't excited that I live in their home, and as a girl who grew up with many surrogate siblings (because my parents thought they were the foster home), I can sympathize. Yet, when they get mouthy and disrespectful, their parents encourage me to beat them. The oldest has a horrendous attitude problem, and I can't lie, I popped her once, and thought, "why am I doing this?" I couldn't do it. And while I want to believe that they are only children; though knowing the difference between right and wrong, they will behave as children. Adolescence is a difficult time. I mean, the oldest just had her first menstrual cycle and I remember the changes. I can imagine how difficult this time in their lives must be for them; but again, they know the difference between right and wrong and while they might misbehave often and cut-up to the point where I have to remind myself of their ages and fight the frustration within, they don't mouth off to other adults like they do me.

And it is because the other adults (parents and other relatives) beat them. And I just can't. And I have no clue how to gain their respect (and, hopefully again, their admiration).

And I'm pulling out my hair in frustration. How can I get them to look at me as a person, and not someone they can mistreat, without having to physically discipline them? I feel as though it is my responsibility (and every other person's) to be a positive influence in other people's lives -- especially children's. How can I keep them positive, motivated, encouraged, and respectful individuals? And having been raised and "beaten" (the Black term for spanked), am I too late to gain their respect without corporal punishment?

Be Righteous.

Let's Discuss: Robin Quivers!

2010-03-28T17:44:00.004-04:00

While I was a little perturbed by Jamie Foxx's comments about the "Notorious Precious", especially in the wake of Howard Stern's verbal attack on Gabourey Sibide, I thought it was less malicious than Howard and Robin's comments. While not justified (or funny, really), it didn't seem to be fueled by hatred, just miseducation.

I have my feelings about Robin Quivers, Howard's ~~token~~ sidekick who happens to be a Black woman. I can sympathize with the idea that she has a "house n^#%a" personality: rejecting her own cultural identity, appearing to do whatever to please the master. I can see that. I understand that point of view and I am even willing to cosign.

What I am not willing to cosign is the below video of Jamie Foxx and co on "The Foxxhole" taking the disrespect to another level.

...of all the things to "joke" about, continual molestation jokes? Corey Holcomb, an apparent regular personality on show, was the main issuer of such jokes. There's nothing funny about molestation. Also featured in the video is slut-shaming and lesbian bashing and tran/gay-bashing toward the end (after the caller).

You know, I don't really have a problem with "counter attacks" that are justified and logical in approach, but this was just distasteful.

I'm not sure how much Robin Quivers acknowledges her black/womanness, but it just illustrates, to me, that these things aren't invisible to others, no matter how much you are willing to ignore them; Black women are attacked on all sides. Even as a survivor of child sexual assault/molestation, she is being shamed for someone else's actions.

Shame on The Foxxhole. How distasteful.
Be Righteous.

World of Grey.

2010-03-27T10:44:00.000-04:00

Not very long ago, my car was broken into while I was working at a supermarket. I was inside working all night, and when I walked outside with my coworkers, I noticed my back door was open. My cds were thrown around the front seats. My items were dishoveled. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I checked for anything missing and called the police, beat after worked something like twelve hours. While I didn't immediately notice anything missing, but then I contemplated the fact that I carry things close to my heart with me at all times.

Having recently graduated college, I moved back to my hometown and lived in my grandmother's house, she was sick in the hospital; when she passed away a month later, my only option was to move in with my parents while the details of the home were being worked on. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing; my parents kind of respect my independence, and when they don't, they know to expect me to continue living my life. They don't snoop in my belongings or anything, but for some reason, I decided to keep my writings in my car. I had a box filled with journals of poetry, prose, and personal narratives in my back seat. There were at least five of them, and they spanned from the time I was thirteen until I was 19.

And they were stolen from me.

I was heartbroken. These were writings that weren't backed up on any computer. My innermost thoughts. Besides the sheer upset I found in the fact that someone would steal my personal belongings (and not even my music, but my journals!), I felt violated.

I've been told I'm a mysterious type of person; the person that people constantly want to figure out. While I'm not entirely sure if I cosign that idea, because I'm not intentionally "mysterious", I certainly have a problem sharing my thoughts, my feelings. I don't like people in my head.

And some person, who probably tossed them in a sewer somewhere upon realizing there was nothing worth money in the mystery box, will always make me wonder: who is reading my mind?

Black Woman.

2010-03-26T19:18:00.001-04:00

Before I begin my post, isn't Alek Wek (pictured) gorgeous?

I love poetry. While I've always wanted to be a writer, I am typically too long winded for what people consider "poetry" to be. I used to perform (and did so on one occasion at an event with one of my poetess idols Queen Sheba when I was 14..and maaaaaaad nervous). I love words, I love being able to express myself in words. I love slam poetry, but somehow lost my voice for it along my growing process.

At any rate, I was doing some African history reading (because that's what I do in all of my new-found free time) and I started thinking about one of my all-time favorite poems: "Black Woman" by the former President of Senegal, Leopold Sedar Senghor. I had an ex~~-crazy~~-boyfriend recite this poem to me and while memories of him ~~make me want to vomit~~ tend to be unpleasant, it's a deep poem.

It was originally written in French, but the English translation is moving.

Naked woman, black woman
Clothed with your colour which is life,
with your form which is beauty!
In your shadow I have grown up; the
gentleness of your hands was laid over my eyes.

And now, high up on the sun-baked
pass, at the heart of summer, at the heart of noon,
I come upon you, my Promised Land,
And your beauty strikes me to the heart
like the flash of an eagle.

Naked woman, dark woman
Firm-fleshed ripe fruit, sombre raptures
of black wine, mouth making lyrical my mouth
Savannah stretching to clear horizons,
savannah shuddering beneath the East Wind's
eager caresses

Carved tom-tom, taut tom-tom, muttering
under the Conqueror's fingers
Your solemn contralto voice is the
spiritual song of the Beloved.

Naked woman, dark woman
Oil that no breath ruffles, calm oil on the
athlete's flanks, on the flanks of the Princes of Mali
Gazelle limbed in Paradise, pearls are stars on the
night of your skin

Delights of the mind, the glinting of red
gold against your watered skin
Under the shadow of your hair, my care
is lightened by the neighbouring suns of your eyes.

Naked woman, black woman,
I sing your beauty that passes, the form
that I fix in the Eternal,
Before jealous fate turn you to ashes to
feed the roots of life.

The Light

2010-03-26T17:43:00.000-04:00

I might intentionally be avoiding discussing the drama with health care and other politics. I'll leave that up to my good buddy RiPPa at The Intersection of Madness and Reality. I'm tweeting plenty about it though, and other random banter (@iamMEchelle).

As a hip-hop head and all around music lover, I sometimes sit back with my feet up, listening to the jams that people hardly think about until they're thrown in some random mix on the radio. Today was a day that I turned on Common -- and turned it up. I have all of his albums. As a matter of fact, when I mentioned this fact a few years ago to my brother (who is as much a hip-hop enthusiast as I), he replied "he only has like two albums out." I was embarrassed to claim him as my brother after that. This, of course, meant putting him on to early 90s Common Sense: "Can I Borrow a Dollar?", "Resurrection", "One Day It'll All Make Sense", and the other albums that aren't "Like Water for Chocolate". After that, we moved forward to what the mainstream now knows as the man named Common.

I did recently become giddy in a movie theatre when I saw Common is going to be in two new films in the near future. My favorite thing about him, besides the fact that he is soooooo fine, is his rhyme style. I can't say "The Light" is my favorite song of his, but it is certainly one of my favorite non-ballad love songs.

No doubt, "The Light" might be the only song of his that most people that have heard of Common (the rapper, not the foinnne actor) know him by. It's so sincere to me; it's the letter that women like me crave to hear, put to the beat. It doesn't seem like he's trying hard...we can relate to it. It's deep. It's how I want someone to feel about me one day. Have a listen.

I never knew a luh, luh-luh, a love like this
Gotta be somethin for me to write this
Queen, I ain't seen you in a minute
Wrote this letter, and finally decide to send it
Signed sealed delivered for us to grow together
Love has no limit, let's spend it slow forever
I know your heart is weathered by what studs did to you
I ain't gon' assault em cause I probably did it too
Because of you, feelings I handle with care
Some niggaz recognize the light but they can't handle the glare
You know I ain't the type to walk around with matchin shirts
If relationship is effort I will match your work
I wanna be the one to make you happiest, it hurts you the most
They say the end is near, it's important that we close..
.. to the most, high
Regardless of what happen on him let's rely

There are times.. when you'll need someone..
I will be by your side..
There is a light, that shines,
special for you, and me..

Yo, yo, check it
It's important, we communicate
and tune the fate of this union, to the right pitch
I never call you my bitch or even my boo
There's so much in a name and so much more in you
Few understand the union of woman and man
And sex and a tingle is where they assume that it land
But that's fly by night for you and the sky I write
For in these cold Chi night's moon, you my light
If heaven had a height, you would be that tall
Ghetto to coffee shop, through you I see that all
Let's stick to understandin and we won't fall
For better or worse times, I hope to me you call
So I pray everyday more than anything
friends will stay as we begin to lay
this foundation for a family - love ain't simple
Why can't it be anything worth having you work at annually
Granted we known each other for some time
It don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine

There are times.. when you'll need someone..
I will be by your side, oh darling
There is a light, that shines,
special for you, and me..

Yeah.. yo, yo, check it
It's kinda fresh you listen to more than hip-hop
and I can catch you in the mix from beauty to thrift shop
Plus you ship hop when it's time to, thinkin you fresh
Suggestin beats I should rhyme to
At times when I'm lost I try to find you
You know to give me space when it's time to
My heart's dictionary defines you, it's love and happiness
Truthfully it's hard tryin to practice abstinence
The time we committed love it was real good
Had to be for me to arrive and it still feel good
I know the sex ain't gon' keep you, but as my equal
it's how I must treat you
As my reflection in light I'ma lead you
And whatever's right, I'ma feed you
Digga-da, digga-da, digga-da, digga-digga-da-da
Yo I tell you the rest when I see you, peace

There are times.. when you'll need someone..
I will be by your side..
There is a light, that shines,
special for you, and me..

(I'll) take my chances.. before they pass..
.. pass me by, oh darling..
You need to look at the other side..
You'll agree..

...then YOU must write it.

2010-03-25T14:37:00.000-04:00

Sunday, I set out to the bookstore to pretend interested in applying to work, all though I was most excited about checking out new reads; I know this seems like backward logic for the passive aggressive, who tend to masquerade as shoppers and then seek the job, but those things where words are stored, books, are among the most wonderful objects the world takes for granted.

When I arrived, I noticed a lady promoting her book and I scooted past her, marching onward to the sociology selection. After browsing through cultural studies, I literally stopped at every single section to see if anything tickled my fancy and then, in another backward notion, hit the bargain books. After grabbing too many items for my quick-shrinking budget, I put some things back, settled on one bargain book - mainly for my collection - paid and stopped at the author's table to speak with her.

She was fairly young, and I will say that part of the reason for my stopping was because her purse caught my eye. We talked.

I asked her about her book; whether it was her first or not. What it was about, what inspired her to write. About her publishing company, which immediately gave away my ulterior motive as a writer. We talked about my book.

I told her the premise for the book that I have written and yet to publish, and how my thought process did a reverse-and-back-peddle upon speaking to other (published) authors and publishers. I am a very determined individual, and it is not discouraging to me that no one will read my writing and thoughts; however, it intimidates me that people may read my thoughts, my feelings, my stories whether true or false, and not understand. (Tell me that ain't insecurrre) Given my activism and internet writing (on my blog and commenting on other people's) I know this sounds like a silly insecurity, a worry of the weak, and I have no "but..." that will justify it beyond my writing being my experiences and inner-most feelings.

The author gave me information, immediately facebook-friended me, and introduced me to the book store's manager who knows people like she knows people. I was encouraged by these strangers who don't know me, but my passions and goals in a ten minute talk. And, in the final words of the conversation, they both agreed that they would see to it that I put my work out there.

Toni Morrison said "if there's a book you really want to read but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." I've written it. I've lived it. And maybe, just maybe, I'll share it.

Uplifting. Be Righteous.

Act 1. Scene 4.

2010-03-24T23:52:00.000-04:00

Cotton-candy cloud love
We are the lavender smelling sound, love.
In the deepest gulp of air, I am crying, "love!"
Itching and breathing, dying love.
Unearthed.
The taste of heat, like summer air.
Orange-green afterglow.
Dreamers often lie, says the prophet's mystic soul.
Stretch my love, have your wishes.
Love doesn't ask for much, and yet it does.
but, in bed while they're asleep was the gazer's reply.
Darkened roots, sweet crimson fruit.
Depth and darkness, paradox.

Your future?

2010-03-23T11:19:00.000-04:00

As a little girl, we played these silly MASH games to predict our "futures"...and the game still lives. Home sick, my cousin wanted to love up on me and play MASH to predict my future. My results?

"You will graduate from UNCW, marry and settle down in the DMV, and live in an apartment. You will have 16 kids, thirteen boys and three girls; spend your days as a baby-sitter, and you will live happily ever after.

That doesn't seem like a happily ever after.

Fresh Air.

2010-03-21T20:35:00.000-04:00

Did you inhale that? It's fresh air. I'm sharing it with you. Yes, you. Because my breath of fresh air moment earlier today made me so proud to have some kind of influence some where.

I've mentioned my younger cousins with whom I currently live, and the fact that I'm trying my best to be a positive Black woman role model for them. Their mom is around and very sincerely, she is one of the most wonderful Black women I have ever encountered. My aunt is certainly one of my major influences, and they are very lucky to have a mother like her. However, she is their mother and I certainly remember being a young tween and being more open to hearing things from anybody but my mother when it came to certain topics.

However, sometimes there are those "I'm-not-even-grown-but-i'm-growing-and-i-think-i-know-everything" attitudes that tween girls (and boys too!) can have. Majorly, I've had to talk time and again about how Nicki Minaj is "entertainment" ~~if you'll call her that~~, and there are a million other enriching activities that one could participate in rather than babbling her lyrics without true knowledge of their meaning.

So anyway, in my Sophia Petrillo voice, I say, "picture it...": I'm downstairs in my quiet space folding clothes, and my youngest cousin (11) comes down. We are cleaning, and so she's wearing shorts and a tank top and her training bra is showing. She looks at me, "do you like my shirt?"
I reply, "Honey. Are you trying to look like Nicki Minaj?"
She says, "No! I don't wanna be like her! She's so fake!"
I had to take a deep breath. Was she saying what I tried convincing her of the last several weeks?
"You're right, she is fake."
She continued, "she always wears the same outfit. And she's not real. Her boobs are fake! Her butt is fake! Her nose is fake! And she wears her hair the same...she ain't even natural!"

I was a proud cousin. The youngest one is also the one that stated, when her older sister relaxed her hair, that she "wants to be natural like her cousin!" Her natural cousin is me. :)

Be Righteous.

Hip Hop Rationalists?

2010-03-21T10:14:00.000-04:00

As a serious hip-hop head, a lover of words and lyrics, and a fairly rational individual, I was thoroughly impressed when I came across this gem upon waking. I'm still spinning from last night, and I don't think the point of my last post came across as anything but a blur that I'll have to clear up at a later date. I don't care what Snoop Dogg claims, gin and juice is a dangerous concoction.

Anyway, for the non-religious sitting at home on Sunday morning...enjoy this!

All My Single Ladies...!

2010-03-20T12:43:00.000-04:00

I promise you that this is not another Beyonce post. It looks like I've mustered up the motivation to do a follow-up on the former posts I've worked on about love and relationships! I'm no expert and I can only express the thoughts that swirl through this mind of mine (and I have a five-head, so there's room for many thoughts). I woke up feeling ultra-inspired when I was speaking to my aunt about how self-accepting I have become since my younger years. Yet, in my "this is who I am" rant, I began wonder silently if my uniqueness makes others perceive me as a diamond or a black sheep?

It would seem that as of late, everyone is concerned with strong and successful Black women; our dating habits, our success rate in relationships, our so-called "sacrifice" of a family for a successful career. I don't think this scrutiny is necessarily "new", but I think the focus of it has shifted. Instead of media outlets having Black women discuss how a "good (Black) man is so hard to find" and essentially demonizing my brothers (and this has been done for hundreds of years here), it's turned the page and made Black women into victims and, essentially, given a nudge that we should become more open to interracial dating. I don't necessarily see a major problem with this beyond the fact that it seems to be a major worry of members in other communities, and the fact that my conspiracy theorist mindset has noticed that this increase has only been since we have a Black/biracial President and Black first lady.

At any rate, I've expressed who I am in regards to relationships here and there and every where. I'm single. And I enjoy being single. I'm very focused on so much more than love, and while I've not entirely been busy here lately, I'm certainly used to having my very special form of organization going on in my life (many people refer to it as chaos though). I know I have a lot of positive attributes: I'm intelligent and free-minded, perfectly capable of forming my own opinions and able to vocalize an "I don't know" where necessary. I don't have children (not that that is a negative attribute at all), I'm interested in so many different things and I love to do a lot. I enjoy learning, I enjoy working, I enjoy being happy and loving myself. I don't have a problem with relationships. The thing about me that most people interested find appealing is this: I am not perfect, and I don't try to convince people that my positive attributes are the entire me. If a great guy comes along and is interested, I am open to seeing where it goes (even if that's unbelievable from my encounters I've documented in my new city thus far).

I know that people don't always "mesh" no matter how much you want. I'm not into genderalizations, but I do know that the human thing to do is to shape opinions based on the experiences that we have. F'rinstance, I was seeing a guy that I thought was pretty amazing. I do still think he's a great guy, though my girlfriends may be a little less forgiving than I. Everything was going great, and he just disappears without notice for a week. Come to find out, he also thinks I'm pretty perfect for him but the long and short of it tends to deal with the conditions in either of our lives: he's very busy and has things going on so it's poor timing for him, and I'm currently in a huge state of metamorphosis. But, daaaamn...how many times does someone find their counterpart and are able to maintain something genuine without (many) qualms? Further, are there ever "perfect" conditions for a relationship, despite whether or not the other person is the "perfect" mate for you?

Another issue that I feel plagued by is my overall (lack of) a religious situation. Being a Black Woman non-theist is difficult; I've met many good guys, interested or not, but they all seem to have in common one major desire: a belief in God. Or, more specifically, Jesus. I've dated Muslim men, Jewish men, and even a Christian guy who was a son-of-a-preacher-man. Sadly and very sincerely, religiosity has, historically, played a major role in Black America. And you know, from a historical stand-point, I can totally respect that. I don't harp on a good man being hard to find because I'm not looking for a good man; I would like to think that good people get the love they deserve eventually. But I have to admit, I've not met or dated any Black men who were non-theists, and only a handful I've met have been open to dating someone with a different religious affiliation.

So, there..my two major issues are questions concerning the difficulty of Black women who are non-theists/non-religious finding "true" love, and why even the good guys tend to move away from good women -- even if they find them to be perfect.

Be Righteous.

Also, side note: I began this post wanting to elaborate and "go in" on aspects of relationships and other factors of Black dating that the media has yet to identify, but I took a break in writing to do real-life stuff. I typically create my posts in one sitting, as it is less difficult for me to stay on task, and I lost track of my original point (can't you tell?). And I'm currently under the influence of alcohol. Surprise.

I Just Wanna Know Where Da Gold At?

2010-03-17T14:35:00.000-04:00

I don't do St. Patrick's Day. I don't mess with it at all. And I'm very vocal and clear when I express my lack of desire to wear green one specific day of the year. All though, while being brainwashed in elementary school, I was convinced that one year I saw a leprechaun in my bedroom (which probably resulted from misplacing my glasses and having dust built up on my ceiling fan). However, ever since I was around 15 or so, I've opted against "celebrating" St. Patty, even though I do enjoy a party - especially after a few drinks.

My last name is typical of Northern Ireland. While it could be Scottish, linguistically it is Gaelic, a language originally spoken by people in Ireland and spreading, eventually, to Scotland. Now, the origins of St. Patrick's Day are religious, but many people see it as an excuse to get wasted and pick four leaf clovers. I don't want to bore with the details of Saint Patrick, or the rebellion, or even how it warped in Irish History, as a day-long break from fasting and Lent. Let's talk about the Irish.

The Irish, like many American immigrants, came to this land of ours on a boat with hopes of opportunity sometime in the 18th century. Many of the Irish farmed until the Industrial Revolution in America, around the 19th century. Now, of course this is an abridged version and a huge chunk of history is missing. Many people know that the Irish, especially New England to Mid-Western ones, were treated like crap and, well, systemically fucked. Besides contributing largely to the development to police agencies, the Irish lived in shanty towns and were not provided educational opportunities, especially with poor health care and a high infant mortality rate. They were even hit with a specific kind of segregation: many places had what were referred to as NINA signs up: "No Irish need apply". I'm very sympathetic to that, and while it might sound ~~like contemporary America~~ familiar, many people do not know that there were Irishmen in the South.

A substantial number of Irish in the South were slave owners. Heck, not saying all Southern whites were racist, but the only non-colored person I've heard of not owning slaves was named Atticus Finch. Where is the cohesion, you ask? Heregoes:
From what is known of my family history on my father's side, my grandfather was the grandson of a slave. As a matter of fact, he had one of the best memories I know. He could tell you where and when something occurred down to the hour and never second guess himself. As such, we very thankfully know from our oral tradition of this bit of information about our family. This is not typical of Blacks in America; many of us have no idea where we came from and I am grateful that, while it does not take us to our African roots, we have a piece of history that we don't have to guess or assume. As such, my Irish last name that has been passed down through generations of men on my father's side is a legacy that feeds the possibility that the people who owned that side of my family were, indeed, Irish immigrants. Now, the Irish mostly favored the Union over the Confederacy, but this changed sometime in 1861. However, in the early 1800s, there were Irishmen in the South that sought to help coloreds, Blacks and natives ~~if there were any left~~, become better educated; however, angry anti-abolitionists fought against the gesture.

My ~~over-active imagination~~ theory makes me want to do more research, but sadly, I never really think about Irish history until Saint Patrick's Day. I suppose this makes me like most other people, but I'm only human after all.

Be Righteous.

Keep on Dreaming.

2010-03-15T22:22:00.000-04:00

I think I'm back at writer's block. All though, I will say that many times, writer's block is not so much my not having words to say or emotions to express as much as it is not knowing how to appropriately vocalize the thoughts. There are some very specific situations running free through my mind, both conscious and voluntary, and it's beginning to frustrate me (and I definitely don't get to that point very easily). Admittedly, a combination of situations have me feeling discouraged, as though I've been slighted by a few different players in my life. Being the person I am, though, I have no desire to express sentiments to anybody but the parties involved if an opportunity ever presents itself. And so, the writer's block is back to run the show.

I love this song. And on vinyl?..That's what love is.

Be Righteous.

Early/HyperSexualization of Children

2010-03-14T01:04:00.000-05:00

I decided upon sleep early tonight, once again, and at 12am I woke up and started flippin' out like I slept til 12pm and missed something! It was a much funnier scene than I could describe, and since everyone in my home was in their respective quarters, nobody was around to share the giggles with me.

At any rate, once awake ~~and unable to go back to sleep as a result of my foul mood~~ I decided to go to the computer and catch up on some blog/news reading. I came across an article over at Alternet entitled "Is Our Sexed-up Society Creating Prosti-tots?" It reminded me of a conversation that I was having with someone, otherwise an incorrigible asshole, about pageant moms and the children victimized and dragged into a world that they don't understand (or really need to). Aside, it also reminded me of the several conversations I've had to ~~force upon~~ have with my pre-teen cousins about maturity, image, positive female role-models, and - well - Nicki Minaj. They're crazy about her, and this, in turn, makes me crazy. Also, very recently the oldest began listening to "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha (she's so 2000-and-late) and I'm positive that she doesn't know what a "bottle of Jack" is. This peeves me because I've never been the person to say things that I don't understand (or haven't researched thoroughly in my analytical nature), so naturally, it's another unrealistic expectation I have of people. I guess if sense and courtesy were both common...

Snippet below:

Last week’s YouTube sensation was the adorkable 12-year-old Avery, all haystack hair and crooked glasses and giant Bugs Bunny teeth, lip-syncing in her messy bedroom to the Ke$ha mega-hit "TiK ToK.” (Sample lyrics: “I'm talking about everybody getting crunk, crunk / Boys tryin' to touch my junk, junk.”)

What’s awesome about Avery is that -- especially given the other sagaciously smart-ass material on her YouTube channel -- it’s safe to say she is totally in on the joke. (Doofy kid + “brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack” = funny!) She’s not trying, pathetically/disturbingly, to be grownup “hot.” She’s letting her creative eccentric ironic sarcastic confident dweeb flag fly. “I’munna fight!” indeed.

But much of Avery’s charm comes from the fact that she embodies a refreshing counterpoint to (if not commentary on) everything that is disturbing these days about pop culture for young girls. In other words, she’s not Azucena Diaz, the Peruvian 9-year-old who remade Britney’s “Toxic” video shot into terrifying soft-porn (and was then applauded for it, when she wasn’t being enthusiastically slut-shamed, slash, threatened with sexual assault). Diaz is not just shaking what God gave her. (Though God did appear to give her an unusually large budget.) She is shaking what we gave her and her tween peers: the super-sexualized "prosti-tot” culture that re-packages porn as mainstream "sexy" and posits “hotness” -- as opposed to, say, math -- as a girl’s highest attainable goal.

Be Righteous.

Feeling Uneasy

2010-03-13T00:17:00.000-05:00

...and I am. What exactly are you supposed to do after you've jumped over the moon?

Twitter Alert :)

2010-03-11T23:24:00.000-05:00

Well, my sister-like-cousin/bestest bud/other half/co-writer of this blog(ifsheeverdecidestodoapost...yeah, I shot out!), Sula has talked me into getting a new twitter account. Yes, this is my second go round with twitter. I hated it the first time around, but she's convinced I'll love it this go round. So..why not?

If anyone is interested in following, you can send me a request @iamMEchelle. Sula also has a twitter - @igetwhatiwnt. It'll be a more fun version of the other-womyn-ism tag team.

Get to following!

Be Righteous.

The Multiple Blind Sides

2010-03-11T19:28:00.000-05:00

I did not see the movie "The Blind Side". I also don't follow football; I don't understand it and I cannot sit still long enough to watch it. As a matter of fact, my grandfather explained to me not long ago that I can't expect to find a boyfriend or husband if I'm not willing to learn football. Aside, despite one of my interns pleading with me to meet Michael Oher (who I didn't know existed until after that movie) and fall in love, and then get her tickets to football games, I try my best to avoid passe bullshit -- and it's hard when it's every where I look.

I had no desire to see the movie, not even after people told me how good it was. Why? Well, we can let Vanessa Williams try to explain it, but she doesn't get too far before Barb Walters gets crunk and, well, pretty shut off at the ideas that she is presenting. Press play!

I understand the desire to see things as they are on the surface (ex, "ohhh, it's a story of closeness between two races"). I am not denying the truth that is in the story. I think that maybe it's touching, even though all I know about it is this: Black kid has a bad Black mother, is homeless or undergoing some major struggle within and without the system, and is rescued by the great white hope. I'm not knocking any of the actors/actresses but I'm not interested in that because how many stories depict healthy Black families, or even positive Black role models uplifting at risk kids? I'm tired of Hollywood making it seem like that's not real. I'm not even saying that isn't depicted, but is it illustrated the majority or heck even half of the time?

I wish I could be closed off enough to just see things on the surface without looking deeper and analyzing things more than a lot of people. Sadly, blogworld, this monkey on my back doesn't just affect my level of amusement in movies, it spreads every where. Unfortunately, ~~white people~~ Barbara Walters may wish to get to a level of understanding where we don't "see" racial differences, but I think those differences should be acknowledged.

Can I post the same video twice in the same month? Sure I can. Here are the reasons why...

Fat Black Chicks

2010-03-10T07:19:00.000-05:00

I felt obligated to respond to this as a fat Black chick as defined by..all of America and, apparently, Howard Stern. I loathe Howard Stern. I had a really good friend in college who loved Howard Stern and whenever we'd hang out or go some where, he'd turn it to Howard Stern for whatever reason, and it would frustrate me greatly.

Now, I didn't see Precious for many reasons, including but not limited to trigger warnings. I fully intend to see it at home, but it's difficult for me, I suppose, because the themes presented are very real despite the fact that they're "entertainment".

I did, however, sneak and read "Push" ~~trying to be grown~~ when I was 13 or so, and even though it was graphic, I got it. I understood everything that was presented and I thought that it was a great read. I even suggested my mom read it, without fearing punishment, because it was so real. I plan on purchasing the movie and watching it alone.

Add ten years, a movie is made of it. Some people are boycotting it because of racist themes. Some ~~black men~~ people even just recently posted on facebook about Monique's appearance, and unshaved legs, and losing weight. It's frustrating to know that no matter how successful you may become, people will continue to define beauty not by how real or successful you are, but by fitting into the box that "real", non-Hollywood people struggle to fit.

Beauty has always been more than physical for me. People always say that, but when they are tested they don't really own it, sadly. That reminds me of something I saw once, I can't remember which television show or movie said it, but there was something about no matter how "attractive" (read: skinny) a fat girl becomes, she'll always internally be the sweet fat girl who let people walk over her because it's all she's always known. Let me reiterate a point in another post I made: I've always thought I was cute, self esteem issues seldom rooted from what people said to me (or not to me) about my appearance once I got older, say fourteen or so. I have some pretty high self esteem and I'm probably as big a jerk now as I'll ever be (if that's what being direct and clear with people is called), whether I change the way I look or not. I guess being the big sister to an all-star athlete brother and a light skindded ~~with good hair~~ sister made me the least attractive of the three by conventional standards, but not unattractive.

Anyway, enter Howard Stern (and his Black woman sidekick Robin, and I will reserve my opinions on her):

Now, I personally think the girl is lovely. Fat doesn't mean ugly. Fat doesn't mean ugly. FAT doesn't mean UGLY. Neither does dark skinned or nappy headed or any other adjective you want to throw out. She's a human being.

I was going to write a post similar to this days ago about good old Mediatakeout posting awful things about Gabourey. If we can't congratulate and uplift one another, how do we expect this dude (or anybody else) to?! Sheesh.

Aside, I even watched Oprah extend congrats to the winners, even though my feelings are a little more love-hate with her than other people in the industry. And Monique paying homage to Hattie McDaniel was incredibly moving. So, my dear "fat Black chicks", in the words of Mr. Stern, I just want you to know that I know how frustrating it is to be torn down, being a woman and Black, but also being overweight. It's silly that, in many cases, people will not even want to get to know you on that basis alone. But remember that beauty goes way beyond that, and keep your heads up. It isn't losing weight that will make you beauty. If it were, there wouldn't be so many skinny people searching for ways to be pretty. This isn't about losing weight, it's about loving yourself and doing big things (no pun intended) regardless of what the nay-sayers say.

Isn't it bad enough that we feel forced to relax our god-given hair, or wear weave, and have big butts, and lighten our skin. I was really going to go in hard on Mediatakeout once more, but then I thought of a question that Malcolm X often asked: Who taught you to hate yourself?
Be Righteous.

Another Beyonce Post

2010-03-10T07:01:00.000-05:00

In my False Dichotomies post, I wasn't intending to "go in" on Beyonce as much as I did the images that Black women artists feel forced to convey as a means to success. In all seriousness, I really like Beyonce/Sasha(?)/Mrs. Carter. I believe that contradiction is a human quality, even when unintended. Heck, I have several conflicting characteristics, and they each make me unique. Beyond Beyonce's money, fashion sense and external beauty, there really is something else to her that comes out when she speaks and performs: passion.

Last night, me and my Sula (who will begin posting here in the very near future..hey girl!) were speaking about passion and agreed that if someone cannot find one thing to be passionate about, what is the point of living? Of course, it's a stronger point in the context of dating and relationships, but all the same, I believe everyone should have, at-the-very-least one thing they are passionate about.

I hear you, Beyonce. My mother influenced a lot of who I am (in the positive and negative) without even realizing it until I make her aware; she absolutely is the fire behind my interest in Black feminism/Womanism, even if her passionate doesn't go as deeply as mine. I think it's a beautiful thing.

Deep Purple Ride

2010-03-09T12:12:00.000-05:00

Your kisses taste like the pale violet blues
of midnight on a city street
It reminds me of the Renaissance in Harlem
I move, motivated, migrating to the north
The northernmost point of my affection, directly
Deep, and meaningful, and precise. Black.
Black as in deep, long. Juicy.
And sweet. Honey-like, mellow sounding
Let's take our desire, delight to the Cotton Club,
Beloved.
Let's get dark, darker than the blues
Warmer than jazz dipped in chocolate
Closer.
My soul scats, stronger than Satchmo and Ella,
the near perfection of
Our flavor's motivation enough
for the tangled rhythms of romance.
Let your naked mind paint shaded pictures
of me
with purples undiscovered
and deep strokes.
Our hearts are the art of our own culture
deep
slow
beats.
Our individual dark-skinned selves
a dancing spirit.
A new route, old fashioned
Let's both take the A Train! To
a new root
a revived Renaissance.

[O t h e r]-Womyn-ism

Update about updates!

Another Post on Rape

June. Even More Amazing.

April Showers bring...MAYCATION!

Coming Up!

Conspiracy Theories: Pro-Choice and Eugenics

Subliminal Messages in Internet Advertising

Sugar, Spice...Everything Nice

2011.

Take Two: Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtianti

Hubbub!

Obscure Dreams

Wow! A LOT Has Been Going On!

Elephant by Damien Rice

For the Privileged

...Speaking of Whoopi

Way to Go, Whoopi.

Small Victories: Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani

Revolutionary but Gangsta Grillz (not much of) a review!

What, to the Slave, is the Fourth of July?

Mel Gibson's Rant: More Than The N-Word

Bamboozled! Chris Brown and aficionados

The Root of the Problem

Suicide Prevention Song

Vagina Dentata (nom nom nom)

Hey, kiddies! School's Out - Time to Dumpster Dive!

Personal Strides

Juneteenth, 2010.

Disparities: Missing White Woman Syndrome

Hang On Little Tomato by Pink Martini

Tupac Shakur

It's All Effie's Fault..?!

Article: Washington Post - 5/30/10

The Banality of Heterosexism

Sister Inspirations: Alexis Pauline Gumbs

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Happy Friday!

Is "Draw Muhammed Day" Supposed to Be...Cool?

...but, is it right?

Sexual Deviants Need Not Apply

Bigger Than Hip-Hop

Got an Award, Y'all!

Real Love: I Am Not a Groupie!

Why I Can't Give Up on President Obama

Mmmm. Soul Food sans Meat!

The Dating Game Revisited

It's The Small Things...:)

Rape Victims: Who Cares?

Contemporary Favorites: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Thoughts for My Brothers

Save The Males! *Eye Roll*

Sassy Jazzy Asiatic Queen

Am I Trippin'?

With a Captial "R"

Fiction, a free-writing experiment.

Weekend Cypher

Rape of 7 Year Old in Jersey

Lovely Song Quotes: Erykah Badu

Opening Day...

Lovely Book Quotes: Sophie's Choice

My First Love/Love of My Life

My Convalescent Leave.

Rape Video Games?

Dream a little dream...

Political Bullshit.

Window Seat

Spare the Rod...

Let's Discuss: Robin Quivers!

World of Grey.

Black Woman.

The Light

...then YOU must write it.

Act 1. Scene 4.

Your future?

Fresh Air.

Hip Hop Rationalists?

All My Single Ladies...!

I Just Wanna Know Where Da Gold At?

Keep on Dreaming.

Save The Males! Eye Roll