Circus of Words

Broken History

2017-09-26T21:49:00.001-04:00

Dreams are the privilege
of those who sleep—
Sound and restful moments,
But I don't sleep.
When I close my eyes,
Light gives way to darkness
and in the darkness I hear
The slow and deliberate cracking
like glass shattering
The echo of clanking and tinging
As the pieces of my heart fall to the floor
I need the Light to find all the pieces
The heat of its fire to melt them back together.
But I never get it back the way it was,
There's always a blemish
a missing piece that just wouldn't fit.
And the fire...
Remnant flames that won't go away—
Can I channel the flames into emotion—
Make moves, start a revolution?
Or will I close my eyes and dream.

Photocredit: Unsplash.com/Toa Heftiba

Homesick

2017-03-23T20:50:00.000-04:00

I was ripped from my mother's womb—
Or maybe she gave me up...

Left to fend for myself with the man who raped her
He took pleasure in breaking her,
Invaded her heart, stole the diamonds from her eyes...
Settled his debts and paid his way in her blood,
Then cast her aside to die...

He stole her from me

And I see her begin to fade...
I can't remember the sound of her laugh
The smell of her breath
The feel of her heartbeat sustaining mine...
And when I look in the mirror I see him
Because he raised me,
But to hate him is to hate me.

I have his eyes, his nose and his lips
I walk like him and talk like him
I even hate her like him...

I thought I'd lost myself, But there never was a me to lose...
I'm just a gear in a machine he'll never claim.
Set to work until my purpose runs out,
Til' my usefulness fades
And he can replace me with someone new...
Some other motherless child

I wish I could be more like her.

I wish I could dance
To the rhythm of her heartbeat
Talk, with the cadence of her walk
Smell of her favorite flowers and perfumes...
I wish I could wear those diamonds from her eyes
And look upon myself as something to pride...

I wish I could find my way home,
That is, I wish I had a home to find

It was after listening to this song that I found the words I couldn't get out.

Challenge #1: So You're Colorblind?

2017-02-02T09:11:00.000-05:00

One of the many ways people attempt to prove that they are not a racist, is to assert that they are colorblind. "I don't see color," sounds good, but it doesn't make any sense logically. Think about it, to prove that you love disabled people the same way you love able bodied people, you wouldn't say "I don't see impairments!" I get where people are trying to go with the idea, but really, you just muddy the waters. If you are a teacher and a student in your class is blind, are you going to ask them to walk to the board and solve the problem if you don't have any technology to assist the visually impaired in the classroom? Are you going to talk to a deaf person who has no translator or hearing aid, then wait for them to respond, knowing that this particular person can't read your lips? No, that would be stupid. You recognize (and in some cases compensate for) the difference between able bodied people and disabled people, however you do not allow those differences to influence your love for them.

What I'm talking about is equity vs. equality. Equity is about treating people fairly, while equality is about treating people the same way. Each person you come into contact with has a variety of experiences that changes how they view and interact with the world. This isn't limited to race, it encompasses class, nationality, gender, religion, sexuality, etc. All of these factors make up who this person is. Buzzword: intersectionality! By pretending one of these things doesn't exist, you're not only insinuating that if you saw color you couldn't treat the person as an equal, but you discount an dimension of the persons identity.

Yesterday, I kicked off Black History Month by sharing a video of Ronald Martin covering the revelation that Emmett Till's accuser lied about his actions toward her. If you aren't familiar with the Emmett Till story, please read about the tragedy here. This young boy was brutally attacked and lynched in the mid-1950s, his killers were set free, and this was a "normal" thing for the South. Growing up in the South, with parents, aunts, and uncles who survived the Jim Crow era and were children themselves at the time of Emmett Till's murder, I have always been aware of this history. Thus, when I was introduced to the musical Grease, no matter how much I may love the songs or enjoy the movie, I have zero desire to live in the 50s. My white friends, however, fell so in love with the movie that they daydreamed about living in the 50s. None of them took the time to process the fact that there are no black characters in the original movie because all of the characters probably hated black people and lived in an era where it would have been illegal for them to go to school together. This same romanticization occurred with the pre-civil war era. Once on a field trip I had to listen to my classmates go on and on about how "great" it would have been to live back then, with parties and gowns—back when the South was flourishing. Yes...back when the South made it's money off slave labor.

Pretending you don't see the fact that I'm Black is actually a way of mentally negating that Blacks have had different experiences in this country. It actually allows you to live in a whitewashed society and not even realize it, because "you don't see color." So my challenge to you today is to take off the colorblind shades and really look at the people around you. See them for who they are, including what color they are. See how that color effects their day-to-day life and most importantly, appreciate that color.

Photocredit: Background designed by Freepik

Humanity

2016-12-06T15:22:00.000-05:00

Wake up to the sound of hope dying,
Outrage on every side—
We're not sleeping easy tonight...
We been fighting all our existence for change

FreeImages.com/Michael Bisgaard

But each change seems to bring us back to the same
This way of life—does it make us insane?
Is everything thing we do, all in vain?
We live in a world that has this perfected,
Where 2 million votes can't get you elected,
But 1 vote can ensure you're neglected
And the issue keeps just getting deflected...
Everyone talkin' 'bout they don't see color
Pretending they got love for one another,
But got us back in the '50s before Technicolor.
Duckin' and hidin', they avoiding the question
Fueling the fire, fanning the flames of aggression
It's just a sophisticated form of oppression—
Protest or stay silent, it doesn't heal the depression.
It's a constant cycle of hurt and of pain
But people are ok with everything staying the same,
So I gave up on humans being humane.

Why it Matters: A Discourse on Why We Won't "Shut Up" About Being Black in America

2016-11-03T01:22:00.001-04:00

I was having a normal conversation about how working for pennies inspired me to do better in school, and in this I was offering the proof of the pudding in the story of how I tried to flunk myself out of honors my freshman year of high school, but was often the highest scorer on assignments all the years after my job experience. That's how it started. In explaining why I wanted out of honors, I said I hated my high school. So, the person asked for clarification, and I gave it. Some of why I hated my high school was resentment—I wanted to go to the high school everyone else in my family went to—but alot of it was the racial tension and the feeling of being isolated. Which brought about the question "why do you feel isolated from white people?"

Down the Rabbit Hole

As I pointed out to the speaker, that's a broad generalization. I can name several instances where I felt more comfortable and more "at home" with a white person than a black person. The conversation about my high school was talking about a specific group of white people. Further, it wasn't just a racial divide, but an economic divide, as well. So, the person—let's call him John Doe—corrects himself to say that I seem "normal" and he can't see why I would have a problem fitting in with the people in my class. Mind you, he started to use the word assimilate and caught himself, but that didn't stop that ideology from trickling into his philosophy. John might not have said assimilate, but it was obvious he meant assimilate...

Regardless, having a surface conversation with people is not the same as being friends with people or making a connection. Yes, I can have polite conversation with people all day (and I mean that literally, I'm a talker!), but that doesn't mean I feel connected to the people I'm talking to. The conversation John and I had is a prime example of it. While my classmates were hooked on Friends and Seinfeld, I was watching Living Single and Girlfriends. What makes these seemingly minuscule differences isolating is that the mentality of many people is their ideas are what's normal and everyone else is abnormal. The fact that I enjoyed different things was "odd" simply because I didn't like what they liked. Because they had never heard of the shows I watched or the music I listened to, and I didn't like the shows they watched or the music they listened to, there had to be something wrong with me. Which brings us back to the "white is normal" mentality.

"Black People Basically Didn't Exist Before the 1960's"

As I continued to explain the bombardment of white-only history, John repeatedly stated that before the 60's black people were oppressed, so there wasn't anything to teach. Little did he know that he proved my point exactly; we've been brainwashed to think the all black people did before the civil rights movement is be slaves. Yet, Blacks in the North were free; they might not have been treated well but they were free. Compound that with the fact that they don't teach any history about after the 60's, and you have a whole nation of people who think blacks have never done anything. We even think we never did anything! I'll save the ramifications of this kind of teaching for my book...

Instead, I offered the example of Jan Matzeliger, who created a machine to speed up the making of shoes.[1] Of course as a lover of shoes, this would be the first person who came to mind. John responded that this wasn't remarkable, that people like Thomas Edison invented the light bulb. Well, you walk around in shoes everyday, don't you? I assure you I spend more time using my shoes than light bulbs (especially if its sunny out!). Further more, you're comparing a man who was denied nothing, inventing something versus a man who lived in a era when it was illegal for blacks to learn how to read! Even under oppression black people were succeeding in the occupations typically ascribed to whites of that era (inventors, writers, senators, etc.). Not the first black man to be a U.S. senator (Hiram Revels), but the second black man to become a U.S. senator, Blanche K. Bruce, was born a slave. What's more, they both became senators in Mississippi, i.e. the deep South.[2][3][4] You have Garrett Morgan, who invented the gas mask and the traffic light—with only a 6th grade education; Benjamin Banneker, a self-taught mathematician and astronomer; Thomas Jennings, who holds a patent for a dry cleaning process; Dr. Daniel Hale Williams, who received an M.D. in 1883 (only 20 years after the abolishment of slavery), founded a hospital, and performed the first open heart surgery in 1893.[5][6][7][8] Black people have always contributed to a society that sees them as worthless. By suggesting that these inventions are somehow not worthy of mentioning in a classroom and continually arguing that we didn't do anything "remarkable" before the 60's only follows that same trend.

Black Literature

As we continued the discussion, the talk shifted to written work. During this part of the conversation, John admitted he didn't know who James Baldwin was. I knew he didn't know who Baldwin was, because "before the 60's blacks were oppressed and didn't do anything," despite the fact that Baldwin's Go Tell It On the Mountain was published to critical acclaim in 1953.[9] While we read Poe, Hawthorne, Thoreau, Whitman, Fitzgerald, and Hemingway, black classics were completely ignored. What about Baldwin, Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. Du Bois, Ralph Ellison, Frances Harper?[10][11][12][13] Phillis Wheatley was the first published black female poet, and her works were published in 1773.[14] 1773, folks! That's almost 100 years before the Emancipation Proclamation. Jupiter Hammon, a slave born in 1711 is known to have published something in Connecticut in 1760![15] To let John and my English teachers tell it, we weren't doing anything before 1960, though.

John countered my dismay at the lack of black literature in school with shock, because he spent a whole semester doing a play about one book by a black person. Wow, one whole book. From elementary to middle to high through college, you can only mention one book you've read by a black person and you can't even tell me the name of the book or who wrote it? #AllLivesMatter, though, right? I can't even count the number of books I was required to read that were written by and about whites, but I can name at least 10 without straining myself. As if boasting that one book did black literature justice wasn't evident of the disconnect John had, he confirmed it by proudly remembering that the main character's catchphrase was "yes'em." *side-eye* As in, the black way of saying yes ma'am or yes sir? As in, what black people had to say to whites in the south to avoid being lynched... I don't know what he read, but I'm convinced he didn't read legitimate black literature, which is probably why he thinks black people were sitting idly, wallowing in their oppression all that time before the civil rights movement. I need him to at least get on the level of The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison (or anything by Morrison, really) or Invisible Man by Ellison. I mean, really, there are countless influential black authors...

And the discussion on black literature didn't stop there... When discussing instances where students deliberately read the n-word from a book when then teacher had gone through lengths to blot out the word, John said blotting out the n-word in a book "ruined" it. Did he stop to wonder how many books he read that demeaned white people? Without even thinking I can name at least 4 books we had to read in school that referred to blacks as n*****s (and not just on one page), but even as I think, I can't recall a single book that uses pejorative language to describe whites (and we'll leave the fact that everyone else is just absent all together for another conversation). It's easy to be ok with something when it's not you that's being shamed. It's even easier to be ok with it, when you've never had the whole class turn to stare and view your shame because you were the only person in the room that this shame applied to.

The Concept of Being Black

As the conversation continued down this horrible and deep rabbit hole, so many random topics of discussion came up, among them was the concept of being black. To someone who has no idea what it's like to be a minority, maybe it does seem like we wake up thinking about our "blackness," but that's simply not the case. I didn't define myself as a black person, the white people around me did.

I didn't know I was black until a white person told me. Why do you think a four year old white person child came up to me on the playground and said "you're black and I'm white," as opposed to me walking up to her saying "you're white and I'm black?" You can argue that it's natural for children to be curious about differences, but the fact is no one in my family thought "white" skin vs. "black" skin was something worth noting. None of us ever came home and asked our parents why the white kids at school were white. If this child was simply curious about differences, it was because in her world, "white" was normal and my blackness was abnormal—again with the idea that white is the norm. What's left to wonder, however, is what her parents taught her that she felt it necessary to point it out to me as though it meant something... If this were the only experience I'd ever had related to my "blackness," I would gladly sweep it under the rug as an anomaly, but this experience is what every day life has been as black person. After all, it was only shortly after that that I learned the n-word at a traffic light when the old man in the car next to ours pointed at us and told his grad-daughter (also about 4 or 5 years old), "those are n******s." It is in rare spaces that I am able to forget that I am what society calls "black."

Loss of Individuality

I shared the follow story with John. With a group of "friends," I played a spinoff game of charades where the object was to guess famous people (real or fictional). Each person put in maybe 6 people, and we took turns drawing a name from a hat (or a bowl, whatever). I put in superheroes like batman, spiderman, and magneto. Someone else decided to put in every rapper they could think of. After the third or fourth rapper came out of the hat, someone said to me "C'mon, you know we don't know these people why'd you put all of these rappers in?" Now you can argue that the inclusion of rappers was new to the game and since it was the first time I played with them, the logical conclusion was that I placed the names in. What you can't excuse is that someone took that opportunity to place those names in the hat. Why didn't the person put those names in before? Furthermore, when I said I didn't put them in, that person never said "hey, I put them in there." Years later, the people in the group remember it as the time I bombarded them with rap artists despite the fact that I told them I didn't do it.

Out of this experience, all John wanted to know was what's so bad about people thinking I listen to rap. It's not about rap. Truthfully, I don't really listen to, but there's nothing inherently wrong with rap. It's about not being allowed to have an identity outside of my blackness. It's about the fact that even when you interact with people frequently, even after two years of hanging out with these people, they still associate "black" stereotypes to me. None of these people bothered to crack their image of what a black person is supposed to be like to realize that I don't know the lyrics to most of the rap songs by the rappers they named, because my iTunes is mostly 90's R&B, Gospel, Jazz, and Classical. The issue isn't what type of music I do or don't listen to, it's about the fact that people don't bother to get to know you for you. This is a primary factor in feeling alienated as a black person in a room full of white people. Yes, I can talk to people and have conversations, but many times those people aren't actually listening to my side of the conversation. They aren't friends, they're acquaintances who pretend to be friends.

Black Hair

As I tried to explain this point further, I mentioned the time someone told me I looked better with straight hair. I didn't bother to mention the time I was walking in the mall and someone told me I was "too pretty to be black" or the infamous line dark skinned girls get: "you're pretty for a dark skinned girl." He wanted to turn it into everything other than what it was. He asked if I would get mad if someone told me I looked nice today, suggesting that implies I didn't look nice the day before. When I pointed out that saying you look nice today is not the same as you look better today, he claimed I was playing with words. Imagine you meet someone for the first time. Perhaps you think they're attractive. Depending on the situation and your personality, you're not necessarily going to walk up and say "hey, you're gorgeous." If you become friends with the person, you're going to see them all the time, their attractiveness will become normal to you, and by the time you're comfortable around them you'll probably forget to mention it or you've subtly hinted at it to the point you don't need to mention it. If something changes, say their hair, their clothes, etc., it's a sudden difference that you are complimenting. It doesn't mean that you prefer that difference to what you previously saw. I have plenty of shirts in my closet that are the same except for the color; I couldn't figure out which one I liked better so I bought both. It's the same concept; I like both, I don't have a preference. When you explicitly say "better" you are stating a preference. He kept trying to come up with other examples, but I shared this example for a reason.

What your preference is about makeup or how I dress is irrelevant; what you tell me about your preference in black hair is historical. The reason black people started to straighten their hair is not because we just thought it looked nice. Our natural hair was seen as unkempt, unprofessional, and later a sign of a revolutionary or black panther (power to Angel Davis #blackfistsalute). There are still occupations that require you to straighten your hair.[23] On top of bowing to conformity (assimilating as he slipped and said early in the conversation), when the Africans were brought from Africa to the U.S., they were stripped of their cultural heritage. They weren't allowed to speak their native tongues, they weren't allowed to practice their cultural habits/customs/etc. One of the things lost was how to care for our hair. Many of us straighten our hair because we don't know how to deal with curly hair. Even for whites with curly hair, this is not something taught in cosmetology classes.[24][25] For some blacks this maybe as simple as passing a flat iron over their hair, but for most of us this means chemically altering our hair. It has been suggested that Black women have a higher instances of fibroids due to the chemical relaxers we put in our hair.[26] At 27, I was told I have 2 fibroids. I haven't relaxed my hair since I was 22, just 5 years prior to this diagnosis. When I did get relaxers, I got the "Just for Me" kiddie version only 3 times a year. Most people relax their hair every 6-8 weeks; that's about twice as often as I did. Relaxers are known, without a doubt, to cause chemical burns and damage the hair.[27]

Jennifer Freeman as Claire Kyle on "My Wife and Kids

The indoctrination that we should alter our natural hair is such that I didn't know I had curly hair until I was in my senior year of high school. I had never seen my hair in its natural state before, and even then it really wasn't my natural state because it was relaxed. I went to several different stylists trying to copy the curly look sported by Jennifer Freeman. Not one of them ever thought to tell me to go natural; every single one of them relaxed my hair then tried to curl it with a curling iron.

I was in graduate school before I realized that I was burning the curls out of my hair. When I stopped, I didn't know if I was going to have the curls I was aiming for (I don't) or if I was going to have a "nappy" fro, but I was resolved to love either. I ended up somewhere in between. My black sisters who've undergone this process (and it's not an easy process, but that's a whole 'nother post) and come out with type 4 hair have often been met with the rudest comments about having "slave" hair or that "natural isn't for everyone," when their hair is just as beautiful as anyone else's. Black hair has never been appreciated or welcome, because black people have never been appreciated or welcome; we've always been considered inferior, this is just a manifestation of that sentiment. On the spectrum of curly hair, the closer you are to a "typical" afro texture, the less acceptance you will find.

When I debuted my unrelaxed hair at home, people thought I'd lost my mind. It's not just white people who've been brainwashed to think we're inferior, we've been brainwashed to believe it! My little cousins wanted to know when I would revert back to my "real" hair, because like me at 7 years old, they had never seen their natural hair. They thought straight hair was normal; again, white equals normal, black equals abnormal. Little black girls (and boys) around the Americas are raised to think their hair isn't good enough because society promotes European standards of beauty. That's not ok, and when you say to me "you look better with straight hair", all you're doing is promoting and reinforcing white supremacy.

The History of Being Black

The root of almost every issue lies in history; it lies in the subconscious programming we receive daily and then exude as though it's "normal" and "ok." John's first reaction was not to acknowledge that at this point in time we should not be experiencing racial discrimination and injustice, but to compare racial discrimination to discrimination of men with long hair. In his attempt to belittle the experience of racial injustice, he didn't even think through the issue enough to realize that people are in complete control of the length of their hair. I'm not saying that it's right to assume a man with long hair is this way or that way, but he knows the stereotypes associated with whatever hairstyle he chooses and he is free to choose to present himself to the world with or without long hair. If at any point he decides that is not the image he wants people to have of him, he can change. I cannot change the color of my skin, nor should I have to. That would be the very definition of white supremacy.

As I explained this, the point still didn't click for John; instead he changed his example to being a short man. Short men are not being seen as threatening and thugs causing people to overreact and shoot them. Just this week an autistic black teenager who was participating in a cross country meet—I repeat he was running in a cross country race, therefore, he had on a cross country uniform—was attacked by a random man who "thought he was going to mug him." This man got out of his car—I don't know about you, but if I think I'm about to be mugged and I'm in my car, my reaction is to lock the door and/or drive off—and pushed the teen to the ground. On top of that, no charges are being brought against the man who admits he pushed the teen to the ground.[16] Just today, a black church in Greenville, Mississippi was not only vandalized with the words "Vote Trump," it was set on fire.[17] Are people out burning down the homes and worship places of short men? White supremacists have been burning black churches, cities, and businesses since the end of slavery; and if you didn't have a building for them to burn, they were satisfied to simply burn you. Two of the most prominent black owned and operated cities of the United States—Rosewood, FL and Greenwood, OK (otherwise known as Black Wallstreet)—were ransacked and destroyed while the inhabitants were massacred by white supremacists.[18][19][20] Do people follow short men around shopping malls assuming they're going to steal? As a short man, when you are out searching for an apartment or in a store do people remark that the area or object you're seeking to purchase is out of your price range without knowing anything about you? The only complaint John cited about the plight of short men was that they are less likely to get matched on online dating websites; guess what, so are black women and men.[21][22] He asserted that he gets talked down to because he's short; guess what, so do I (for being black, female, and looking 17). But, on top of being undesirable and spoken down to, I am subjected to countless consequences that affect my day to day life, simply because I'm Black. I get a whole new, made up identity that casts me as a single mother on welfare listening to rap not knowing who my baby's father is and eating fried chicken, meanwhile there's a group of people, some of whom actually hold positions of power (re: Donald Trump might actually become president), that hates me and/or thinks I'm from an inferior species...

Bucking the Status Quo

John was so content with the status quo, he couldn't grasp the fact that it's not about being PC, it's not about being offended, it's not about changing someone's preference about what type of hair they like. It's about educating people that white does not equal normal. It's about educating people about the history of why we have these preferences. He admitted himself that he had no idea about the history of black hair (yeah, because the education system only teaches you the white side of history). I bet he doesn't know who Madame CJ Walker is either; she was the first black woman in the U.S. to become a millionaire—self-made and before the 1920's.

Instead of understanding the why's of the issue, he conflated fact and opinion. He tried to suggest, going back to his short man issue, that "facts" were that being tall is more attractive. No, popular opinion holds that being tall is more attractive. That doesn't make it true, and that doesn't make it right. He was all about "just dealing with it" but that's exactly how things stay stagnant. White people have been telling blacks to "just deal with it" since they drug us over here. Blacks are slaves that's just how it is, deal with it. Blacks get lynched, just stay in your place and deal with it. Blacks get a subpar education, just deal with it. Blacks are lazy, just deal with it (Donald Trump is reported to have said this dozy).[28] Blacks are criminals, that's why police shoot you, just deal with it.

The ultimate definition of oppression and white supremacy is you telling me to bury my feelings because it makes you uncomfortable. You don't want me to talk about the issues that affect blacks because you don't want to trade in a normalcy that promotes white supremacy. You want me to be quiet, because you don't like hearing that you've lived your whole life unaware. You want me to "just deal with it," because you don't want to admit that America is over it's head in racial problems, that the America you've been taught is so great and so awesome has only taken a tiny step from where it was in the 60's. You don't want to hear that simply refraining from calling me a n***** is not enough. Well, you picked the wrong one.


Photocredit: Bettmann/CORBIS

I will speak out, I will shout, I will argue, I will protest, and I will fight. I'm not going to simply disappear. I am not the slave that simply got up and did her chores hoping not to get whipped; I am the slave that had an "R" seared into my flesh because I wouldn't stop running.[29] I am not the black woman who sucked it up after a long day of work and stood up so that whites could have a seat on the bus; I am Rosa Parks getting arrested because I refused to stand. I am not bowing to conformity to be acceptable for a television audience; I am Angela Davis wearing my not-quite-afro wild and free, I am Viola Davis taking my wig off on prime time TV. I am not the person who gives a talk and glosses over the most influential moments of my life to appease the white audience, I am Nicki Giovanni getting on stage expressing the truth of the experience, I am Michelle Obama telling you I live in a house slaves built. I am Beyoncé singing about afros and negro noses at the Super Bowl. I am Katherine Johnson, a human computer capable of sending people to the moon. I am Ruby Bridges, by myself in a sea of white faces. You can love it or hate it, listen or ignore, but the time has come for you to just deal with it.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." -- MLK Jr.

References

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Noelliste, Leila. "Why Are Beauty Schools Ignoring Natural Hair?. Clutch Magazine. 2016
Tyra. "What Cosmetology School Did NOT Teach Me About My Black Hair. Black Girl Long Hair. April 4, 2014
Wise, Lauren A.; Palmer; Julie R.; Reich, David; Cozier, Yvette C.; Rosenberg, Lynn. "Hair Relaxer Use and Risk of Uterine Leiomyomata in African-American Women. American Journal of Epidemiology. September 2011
Mayse, Kathy. "What Are the Dangers of Relaxing Hair?. LiveStrong. December 23, 2015
D'Antonio, Michael. "Is Donald Trump Racist? Here's What the Record Shows". Fortune. June 7, 2016
Costa, Tom. "Runaway Slaves and Servants in Colonial Virginia". Encyclopedia Virginia. January 29, 2013
Davis, Julie Hirschfeld. "Yes, Slaves Did Help Build the White House. NY Times. July 27, 2016
Ramsey, Franchesca. "Her Character Was Only Supposed To Remove Her Makeup Before Bed. Then Viola Davis Made It Real.. Upworthy. November 6, 2014
Ruffo, Julian. "Viola Davis Addresses a 'Sticky Racial Situation': Stylists 'Don't Know What to Do With My Hair'. People. August 3, 2016

ABCs of Improvement: A for Active Listening

2016-09-01T08:44:00.000-04:00

I used to use an Erin Condren Planner. While I love the colors and the quality, eventually I realized that while I'm a busy person, I'm not actually a busy person. Confusing right? What I mean is everyday when I wake up, I have tons to do, but no appointments whatsoever. Sure, the boxes in the EC Planner could be used for to-do lists, but they're kind of small for that. To make a long story short, I discovered the Bullet Journal and decided it was something I should try. I had sticky notes with lists all over my desk (often to the point of clutter), but the Bullet Journal promised a more organized way to keep track of these things, with the added bonus of an artsy flair (you'll have to check out #BuJo or #BulletJournal on Pinterest or Instagram to see how people have added an artistic flair to the original concept).

Of course, if you know anything about me, you know I used to write daily; writing is a bit of an outlet for me. So the premise of a normal journal and the aspects of a bullet journal started to collide in my mind. One day, I saw a post by Boho Berry about "level 10 life." She divided her life into 10 areas and determined herself to improve upon each area by setting goals. Because I love a good challenge, I went a little extra (overboard, maybe) and created "The ABC's of Improvement."

Download the a copy (without the "A for Active Listening" tag)
so you can follow along! Color | Plain (B&W)

I chose a concept for each letter of the alphabet that I wanted to reflect upon for growth and improvement. Now, 26 is a lot bigger than 10, and I really wanted to make sure I focused on each area (a problem I would have incurred even with only 10 concepts). So I decided to turn each concept into a 30 Day Challenge. For the month of September I'll be focusing on the letter A, for Active Listening.

Active Listening

I chose active listening for the letter A because I come from a family of talkers. Despite being an introvert and having a preference to being alone, when I do talk to people, I often find myself dominating the conversation. Sometimes I'll stop to say hi to someone and find that it's 2 hours later when the conversation ends. I want to make sure that a) I'm not being rude and over-talking people, b) I'm listening to the other people in the conversation, not just waiting for my chance to speak, and c) that these conversations are meaningful for everyone involved. Active listening refers to both listening to people with the speak, but also being present in the conversation. Below are the journaling (or thinking if you're not a journal-er) points for the month:

What is something that distracts you in a conversation? Why does it distract you?
Think of something someone told you today, recount the conversation from the other person’s point of view.
Think about what annoys you most in a conversation. Why does this annoy you and is there a way to avoid this behavior.
Words and phrases may have different connotations across cultures. Think about how this can derail a conversation and reflect on a time when this may have hindered communication.
Nonverbal communication is key, recount the nonverbal tone of a conversation you had today and how that may have differed from what was said
Interrupting is the worse, recount a time today when you interrupted someone and reflect and whether it was actually important and urgent enough to warrant an interruption.
No one likes someone who won’t stop talking; focus on cues that signal a conversation’s end. What do you do when you want a conversation to end?
Think about behaviors that bug you when you’re speaking to someone, why do these behaviors bother you? Have you ever done the same thing?
We often misunderstand what’s being said to us; in a conversation summarize what you think the person said for clarification and see how often you weren’t on the same page.
Sometimes interruptions or abrupt exits are necessary, think about the most polite way accomplish this and how to handle these situations
Think about topics that cause you to dominate the conversation. Why do like to lead this discussion? What can you learn from others about this topic?
Think about a conversation where you zoned out. Why wasn’t the conversation engaging? Before zoning out, could you have steered the conversation to a better course?
In a group conversation, take note of how often everyone speaks, was it even? Did the person who spoke the most have something interesting/important to say? Was someone left out?
Both people should gain something from a conversation. After each conversation, think about what you’ve learned from the conversation. If you didn’t learn anything, why do you think that is?
Reflect on the tone of all the conversations you’ve had today; were the primarily positive or negative? How did you contribute to the tone of these conversations?
A lot of times we can’t listen because we’re thinking about our selves, try to have a conversation in which you are completely focused on the other person.
What is something you do that you think might distract others while you are talking? While they are talking?
What makes for a good conversation?
When we have other things on our mind our ability to converse with others is weakened. Contemplate what distractions are worth postponing conversations.
There’s a fine line between prying and engaging in the conversation. Where do you think the line is? Does it change from person to person?
Can you discern when you’re speaking with someone who is shy? Look for cues in your conversations and brainstorm ways to make them feel comfortable in the conversation
Reflect on the shortest conversation you had today. Why was it brief? Was it meaningful?
Reflect on the longest conversation you had today. Was it meaningful? Who dominated the conversation? Did it make sense for that person to dominate?
Facial expressions play a major part in conversations. What does your face say to people when you talk?
Emotions can make it more difficult to listen to someone else. Can you tell when you’ve stopped listening?
Think about the least interesting conversation you had today. Why wasn’t it interesting? What would have made it better?
Try to remember a conversation from earlier this month. Can you remember details of the interaction? Facial expressions, emotions, the way the person said something?
Who is your favorite person to listen to? Why do you like listening to them?
Compare your textual conversations with your physical conversations. Does anything change? Are you better at listening on one medium than the other?
Reflect on how your listening skills have changed over time, particularly over the course of this month.

Next Month: B for Budgeting

Unapologetic?

2016-08-15T09:51:00.000-04:00

I was looking for a picture and
came across this image by some retailer.
Why are they advertising a shirt about
being unapologetically Black on a White woman?
*facepalm*

I remember when Rihanna came out with her album Unapologetic. Since then, it's been a buzzword attached to self-empowerment. What it basically means is that you don't apologize for anything you do, even if someone is offended. In many ways I completely understand and agree with this concept. For instance, I'm not going to hide my faith in Jesus because it offends someone. I'm also not going to straighten my hair to blend in or hide my "blackness." That would put me in the camp of unapologetically Christian and unapologetically Black. Where this concept of being unapologetic gets murky is when we step away from big pictures, social media, and phantom bosses to people we actually care about: friends and family.

I'm no stranger to saying things I mean and having them taken in a way I didn't mean for it to be taken. Sometimes it takes a minute to settle in, especially depending on how the person reacts. Some people won't say anything, others may confront you, and others may start crying. Now here's where this phrase and concept is doing a number on our society today. Many people who claim to be unapologetic take the stance that they said what they meant and if the other person is offended thats just too bad. That attitude makes perfect sense when you're talking to a stranger behind a computer screen, a hater who always has something negative to say to you, or a boss who thinks your natural self is unprofessional. It does not make sense when you're talking to someone you claim to care about...

Here's an example. In college I used to go shopping with my girl friends all the time, especially before big events or occasions. If outfits are tried on, opinions are asked. There have been times when someone has emerged from the dressing room and said "What do you think?" only to be disappointed when I say "I don't like it." Further, there have been times when I have followed the subsequent "why?" with an honest answer the person did not appreciate. Perhaps I said it makes them look bland or it doesn't highlight their best features or that it looks awkward. Whatever the case, from my point of view, it's an opinion that was asked for, and an indictment on the outfit not the person wearing they outfit. However, when my friend takes my comment as an indictment on her personal appearance, what kind of person would I be to respond "unapologetically"?

I have a "friend" who approaches life from the "unapologetic" side of the argument, so not only do I know the arguments for responding in such a manner, but I also know what it feels like to be the friend who is offended by what has been said. This so-called friend will be quick to say that they won't apologize because they meant what they said and they would be lying to make me feel better. However the issue isn't about meaning what you said, it's about whether or not you meant to insult the person you're speaking to. When I tell my friend that a particular outfit doesn't suit her body type and she takes offense to it, it's not because she's in love with the outfit and she wants me to retract the statement. She's offended because from her perspective I have said something negative about her body type, I'm calling her too curvy or not curvy enough for the outfit, or too tall or too short. She is adding something to the words I've said that I did not intend. What's more is even if the reason I thought the outfit didn't look right was for one of those reasons, I most certainly did not mean that her body type was bad or unacceptable, which is clearly how she took it if she is offended. Thus, my first reaction is not try to justify what I have said, but to apologize for offending the person.

"I'm sorry you were offended by what I said; I did not mean any offense by it."

This is a very simple statement. It's not apologizing for saying something you meant, it's apologizing for the miscommunication that came from what you said and for hurting someone you claim to care about in the process.

"Unapologetic" people resort to making up excuses to push the blame on to the person who is offended. Comments such as "Well, that's what I meant" or "I don't know what to tell you" show an absolute disregard for that person's feelings. To say "well I don't see it that way" is to say that your opinion is the only one in the conversation that matters. You're completely silencing the thoughts and opinions of your friends simply because you don't agree with them. What kind of friend does that?

For people who claim to be unapologetic, I can tell you that if your friend tells you they are offended and your reaction is continue offend them, you aren't a good friend. It's not about tiptoeing around issues or "lying to make people feel better." It's about recognizing that other people have feelings, too, and that your perception is not the only perception. You don't have to say "I'm sorry I said that" because you said what you meant, but remember the whole time you're arguing with your friend about how you said what you meant the fact that you won't apologize for the offense given also means you meant to offend the person. When the above scenario plays out with my friend and she gets upset and says I called her fat, I don't have to go four rounds justifying what I said; all I have to do is say "my statement was not meant to imply you were fat, I didn't mean for you to take it that way and I don't think you're fat." Look now, that doesn't even have the words I'm sorry in it!

I'm just giving you some food for thought. Perhaps you spend a lot of time thinking about what you say, but maybe you should stop thinking about you for a second and listen to what your friend is saying to you. If you don't care that you've offended this person, is that really your friend?

Connecting to My Past

2016-07-06T10:31:00.000-04:00

I used to wonder about my ancestors,
Felt so out of touch with where I came from.
Didn't know names or faces,
Couldn't fathom these far off places...

Reading these white-washed textbooks,
Got me wondering about this melanin deficiency
Is it Rape, or some type of Pocahontas idiocracy?
Another missing connection I'll never understand.

Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/Andrey_Popov

400 years, 200 years, 50 years...
A change we can believe in?
But when I turn on the news
Its all still there: every tear, every view.

Face down in the cement—
Move to the other side.
Keep your mouth closed;
Look at the ground...
Are you gonna die like a man,
Or die like a slave?

I used to wonder...
What they looked like, how they felt
How they'd made it
With the crappy hand they were dealt...

Then I looked in the mirror,
I looked on the TV,
And I saw them
Inside and around me.

32 Thoughts I Have at the Dentist

2016-05-17T12:10:00.000-04:00

Photocredit: FreeImages.com/Nicholas Sales

Every time I go to the dentist I have the craziest thoughts; I wish I could live tweet them (and I don't even tweet like that!). Today, I tried to memorize them and after the visit I jotted them on my phone to share.

In the Lobby

Ok, I can do this!
(Every time they call someone else's name as I wait)I don't know if I'm annoyed or happy they haven't called my name yet.
(When they finally call my name)Oh that's me...
This is going to go better than last time!

In the Seat

Yes, I want my gums numb.
Are you sure you numbed my gums?
No, this isn't better than last time.
What happened to the numbing stuff?
Have you ever told anyone their teeth were ok?
Of course not, how would you afford to live if you did...
Oh you want me to get my wisdom teeth out. How much is that?
$4,000! Riiiiigggghhhht.
It's just like college; I'm paying to have my self esteem decimated and be tortured.
Actually, are you sure you went to dental school and not some government torture training facility?
Am I dying?
Maybe this is what they meant by don't go into the light, that's a bright light...
Why are you asking me questions!?!
You're ruining my near death experience.
Oh she brought out the death tool.
Can I die in peace please?
Oh, I'm not dead...whew
I survived!

Checking Out

Another appointment?
Is 28 to young to have dentures?
If I get fake teeth I don't have to come back, right?
No, you still can't take my wisdom teeth out.
I have to come back?
Ok fine...
6 months until I have to do this again.
*deep breath*
(As I sign the receipt)Crap, I'm poor.
(Looking in the rearview mirror of the car)My teeth look exactly the same...

More Than Pretty

2016-04-26T09:32:00.001-04:00

The first time a random guy walked up to me, said I was pretty, and proceeded to ask for my number, I was 21. I didn't like it then and I don't like it now. Back then I couldn't really figure out why it agitated me, after all, it was a compliment. Despite all the quirks I know I have and my aversions to conformity, I don't think anyone wants to be seen as not-attractive, myself included. So I wondered why it should bother me that this guy would say such a thing. Shouldn't I be all giddy and excited?

Photocredit: ShutterStock/Dustin Dennis

Pretty is subjective, everyone has different tastes and preferences, but more importantly pretty is by chance. He didn't think I was pretty because of something I did or something I said. My value at that point stems from the happenstance of how my parents genes interacted with each other. It's completely disjoint from me as an individual. What bothered me then and bothers me now, is that he showed no interest in who I was. He asked for my name—given to me by my parents—told me I was pretty—again, given to me by my parents—then insinuated I looked "interesting" or "cool" and asked for my number. Basically, he said that all he needed to know about me to hang out was that he was attracted to me. I could have been psychotic for all he knew.

It's shallow, of course, but in a way it's also demeaning. It reinforces the idea that a woman's purpose and worth is solely tied to sex. From our conversation he gathered no personal information about me. Not what year in school I was, not my major, not what I like to do for fun, nothing. So, what about my looks could possibly be interesting and cool enough to hang out with? It's not like I was wearing a jersey representing my favorite team or standing in a location that stated my likes... I was walking across campus from one class to another. I've found it's always like that; I'm standing in the grocery store, or on an elevator at school. Perhaps because when I'm somewhere of interest it occurs to the guy to bring that up first: "oh so you like jazz, who's your favorite artist?", "oh you like basketball, did you play in high school?", etc.

What's even more astounding, is that my natural reaction is to snap judge the person who is judging me. Which in most cases means I'm looking at him like, "but you ain't cute..." Of course, that makes me a bad person, because women are supposed to be flattered by compliments. It's perfectly logical for a man to ask out a woman simply because she's pretty. It's shallow for a woman to reject that man simply because he's not attractive. Well, if all you can say to me is "you're pretty" (that goes for on the date too) you're gonna illicit one of the following reactions in my head: "cute but not too bright, nah" or "not cute, not bright, nah." #MoreThanWhatILookLike #AskMeBoutMyPersonality #TellMeSomethingAboutYou #AnythingButPretty

Why God Gave Me Curls

2016-03-28T13:50:00.001-04:00

Soft curls from the root downward spiraling,
Entwining in clusters, thick and inseparable,
They cling together like best friends...
And these strands are strong—

They protect each other

Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/TK0920

    From become weak and brittle,
    From snapping off under pressure
    From the dullness of drying out...

They move as one:
Supporting one another as they
Stretch for European lengths and aesthetics
They coil back into themselves with ease
—but sometimes with damage...

They embrace each other lovingly
Despite the irregular twists and turns
The abnormal shapes of S's and Z'z...

This melting pot of friends are survivors.

Creamy crack addictions to chemicals
    —they curl and coil together
395 degrees, searing punishment for defiance
    —they curl and coil together
Drowned in lather, oils, water, products
    —they curl and coil together

Survivors

A story on my head,
Of survival
Of friendship
Of love
Always, in the mirror
Always waiting to be shared.

Black Entrepenuership

2016-02-07T09:07:00.000-05:00

Speaking of entrepreneurs, today I want to talk about some contemporary entrepreneurs: Harold Hughes & Steven Hughes. I met these two brothers at Clemson (no we aren't related); by the time I started school both of them were leaders on campus. In the era where too many college students are graduating and unable to find a job, or graduating buried in student debt, these two stand out. Steven started Know Money Inc to promote financial literacy and help stop generational poverty. Harold started Bandwagon, an organization to aid in purchasing sports tickets. These two are proving that Black entrepreneurship is not a thing of the past but a continuing legacy. #MakeItCount #BlackHistoryMonth2016 #BlackEntrepreneurs

Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/ARENA Creative

Family CEO

2016-02-06T19:01:00.000-05:00

Today's #BlackHistoryMonth2016 post is about my aunt: Liz Bellamy. My aunt is the middle child on my dad's side and the family entrepreneur. She was also the first computer scientist in the family :) Like the rest of my aunts and uncles, she went to school during segregation, and graduated from Durham Business College. My aunt has owned a few different business and properties to lease. Eventually she settled on owning and running Color Tile & Carpet with a friend (also a Black woman #BlackWomenEntrepreneurs). Not only is she a successful business owner but she raised 2 daughters (who I also followed around when I was a little girl) who also went on to be successful in the medical field. My cousins and I used to follow her around, playing in jewelry, and learning to do our hair. She made sure I knew that real women aren't just pretty or good at cooking and cleaning, but they handle business. #MakeItCount #MyFamilyTaughtMeBlackAndProud

Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/Miles Studio

Role Models Pt. 2

2016-02-05T17:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I talked about female role models, but we learn and take shape from both genders. Also, since there are people in America who think all Black men are violent thugged out criminals, I thought it was important to share the gentlemen who I saw as role models when they were in their teens and I was a young girl: Tony Gaines & Brett Gaines. Possibly because I was a tom boy growing up, I always wanted an older brother—I don't have any brothers though, so I ended up looking up to my older cousins. Whenever they played games nearby, or whenever my parents were willing to drive lol, I'd go see them play. Mostly basketball, sometimes football. And I just knew i was gonna get taller and be a great basketball player too. I didn't have to look up to Shaq & Kobe because I could look up to Tony & Brett. When I finally did try out for a basketball team, I wasn't in the best shape, so after the 2nd day of tryouts I couldn't really walk lol. I was upset and disappointed, but no matter what my parents said I was still upset; so my mom called these two to talk some sense into me. I'm sure they had homework, friends, and much cooler things to do that to talk to a little kid about basketball tryouts, but they took the time to reassure me that it was perfectly normal and to tell me I couldn't quit. We have a no quitting policy in my family! I may not have ever ended up playing basketball (or grown any taller -_-), but I learned about committing to a challenge, sportsmanship, and perseverance from these two, and these lessons apply to everything you do in life. They reminded me that you have to go through some pain to achieve your goal, that you always have to strive for your own best, then keep pushing yourself to be better. Both of them recently welcomed into the world daughters, whom I have no doubt will be daddy's girls :) For those of you who for some reason don't already understand this, just because a Black man is tall, big, athletic...Black lol, doesn't mean he's a thug, he may be the best role model out there. And for those of you who are Black men, you probably have little brothers, maybe even sisters, who are looking at you the same way I looked at those two. You're setting the example of how to survive as a Black man in this world. So #MakeItCount #BlackHistoryMonth2016 #TeensMakeDifferencesToo #AllMyRoleModelsWereReal

Photocredit: ShutterStock/Volt Collection

Role Models

2016-02-04T09:00:00.000-05:00

Today I want to talk about role models. Lots of little girls want to be like Beyonce or Kim K., people with impossible attributes, who don't even know they exist, but there are always great role models within our communities. For me some of those girls (I'd be posting forever if I named them all) were GeFranya Matrulia Graham, Shakira Brockington, and Faith Smith-Wilson. I remember GeFran telling me what it was like to be in high school, helping me with my homework, and grounding me with the knowledge that one fateful day, I would get a B, maybe even a C, but that wouldn't make me less smart; it just meant I'd have to study harder. Shakira, who I'd eventually be in band with, inspired me to work harder and to not give up on music. I remember being so excited when she was on homecoming court (it wasn't often you saw a Black person on homecoming court and a fellow band geek at that!). Faith, my older cousin, let us sit with her and her friends on the bus, despite the fact that we were lowly 6th graders and they were Juniors or Seniors in high school. She was almost like an older sister, filling us in on what the next few years would be like. It's no surprise to me that they're still out accomplishing wonderful things. These ladies all helped me grow, be confident, and appreciate myself. Even as teenagers, possibly without even knowing it, they were making an impact on the generation below them. Your little sisters, cousins, the girl down the road, they may not say it, but they look up to you. What you do, they will do, because while Mrs. Obama or Beyonce may seem impossibly cool, you are real and tangible--a blueprint to success. What has always made our community great is the passing of greatness from one generation to the next, and that can start even in your teens so #MakeItCount #BlackHistoryMonth2016 #TeensMakeADifferentToo #PassDownWhatYouKnow #BlackWomenEmpoweringBlackWomen

Photocredit: ShutterStock/Samuel Borges Photography

Music Gurus

2016-02-03T08:01:00.000-05:00

The next set of heroes I want to talk about are one set of my maternal grandparents (that's a long story, just go with it): Leslie McIver, Sr. and Mary-Ann McIver. They were born a little later than may paternal grandparents, but still during the Jim Crow South. They met while attending Claflin University—1 of 4 of the only schools in South Carolina that accepted Blacks at the time. While at Claflin, my grandfather became a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. and my grandmother a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc. After graduating, both of them began teaching music. My grandfather would go on to become a local legend as a great high school band director. My own high school band director would often bring up this fact and eventually convinced my grandfather to conduct one of the band practices for my high school (while I was still in school). My grandmother continued teaching piano lessons even after retirement, becoming the go-to person for Black children in the community who wanted to learn music. Perhaps this is why I learned to read music while I learned to read words. On top of being great musicians, both were heavily involved in serving the community. Every time I walk into their house, I am greeted by a wall of awards for their service to our community—not a community far away or that I've heard of, but the one I lived in. One little known service that they did was encourage and facilitate the formation of the first integrated United Methodist Church in my hometown. They would later be ordained as Deacons in the Methodist Church. Again, during an era where black people were not afforded many rights, my grandparents were out paving the way for future generations and doing great things. Also, growing up in an era where women were supposed to stay in the kitchen, my grandmother completed both high school and college, taught, and was ordained. They would go on to raise 4 kids, all of whom turned out to be successful, involved with their community and all around great people. ‪#‎BlackHistoryMonth2016‬ ‪#‎OhSnapWeGet29Days‬ ‪#‎MakeItCount‬ ‪#‎BeatTheOdds‬

Surviving in the Early 1900's

2016-02-02T09:28:00.000-05:00

This black history month, I want to do something a little different. I think one of the problems in our country is that Black history is synonymous with the past and with slavery to most. I really want to go into a more personal level and highlight people making a difference everyday. People I've met, talked to, and been inspired by. So, this year for my daily spotlights I want to brag on y'all. FYI: if I don't post about you, it's not because you aren't awesome, it's because there's only 29 days in February, and I'm a graduate student so I can't just post until run out of friends and family...

My black history month hero this year (and every year really) is a pair: Howard Hughes (not that Howard Hughes) and Iella Dewitt Hughes, also known as Papa and Granny to me and my cousins. Born in 1903 and 1915, respectively, they lived through some of the most dangerous eras of Southern history. Despite their circumstances and without being afforded any of the opportunities I have today (such as the option to complete high school) they were able to employ hard work to get farm land, a house (2 houses actually), and raise 5 kids. All 5 kids grew up to be strong, successful, and loving, despite also growing up the Jim Crow era. I'm proud of my grandparents (aunts and uncles, too) because they beat the odds. The heart of black history isn't about slavery or racism, but about strength and survival. When I look at what the people who came before me accomplished in the face of blatant adversity, I know that I have no excuse. ‪#‎NotAshamed‬ ‪#‎MyAncestorsWereSlavesButTheyStillCameOutOnTop‬ ‪#‎BlackHistoryMonth2016‬ ‪#‎OhSnapWeGet29Days‬ ‪#‎MakeItCount‬

Goodbye 2015

2016-01-02T16:23:00.000-05:00

2015 is gone! It was a great year. I knocked things off my 30 before 30 list! I know, I have to write some updates for those but since January 2015, I have visited the West Coast, have cooked macaroni that eerily close to my aunt's masterpiece, and I discovered my great-great-great-grandfather Suffrin (I suppose it makes sense that slaves would name their children suffering). I also bought tickets to see the Spurs play the Heat in Miami, which brings me closer to getting another item checked off. I also secured my first, first-author, publication, and presented at a conference, which brings me closer to my PhD.

January 2015 took me from Clemson, SC to Boca Raton, FL. It might be the first move I can say I really like. Clemson and Spartanburg didn't feel much different from where I grew up. The buildings look similar, and the weather isn't much different. Gainesville felt too much like home, the bad parts of home that is. Cary was pretty but dull, and Maryland was too "citified" for me. Boca is fabulous. I could see myself here forever!

In addition I've done a ton of Bible reading, and grown in my faith. 2015 was full of exciting experiences, learning, and growth. I don't usually make New Year's resolutions, I just make changes when it occurs to me that I should make a change. This year, while I'm still not making a resolution, there will be a few major changes for me in 2016. My goal is to close the year with a graduation ceremony and earn my PhD (this means I'll be busier and likely do less writing). I am also in the process of buying a vegetarian cookbook and may be going green at some point in the near future.

Hope you had a great 2015, and even better 2016!

Don't Quit

2015-10-26T18:45:00.001-04:00

The end of the day comes
Hours upon hours of solid work
But my progress is lacking
And I seem to have missed the mark...
I'm looking at this failed experiment
I'm wondering why it's so hard—
Nothing about this seems impossible
But my results are always broken and charred.
So here comes that quite voice creeping
Singing soft lullabies in the corners of my mind;
He's telling me it's ok to cry, it's ok to quit
That little voice that wants to see me fall behind.
But I'm waiting for something a little less pleasant
That cacophony that goes against the grain,
And His voice isn't going to lull me to sleep
Instead He'll shake away the excuses in my brain.
He already told me I could do this,
He said I had only to try—
Never give up, never back down
Never stop trying to fly.
Oh, the devil knows I want to quit,
Tries to hit me where I'm weak
But God knows where to find me—
He knows I'll listen when He speaks.

Jumping to Conclusions

2015-08-19T12:15:00.001-04:00

Strange that while most people consider math and science to be the hardest fields of study, most people attempt to apply mathematical and scientific logic to everything they encounter. If this, then that. People try to take item A to disprove item B and vice versa, yet since math and science are difficult, they tend to leave out items C-Z.

Today I saw a post on Facebook wherein someone was discussing how the Bible "copied" the Ten Commandments from the 42 Tenets of Maat. There's no denying that the principles listed are remarkably similar. So if the 42 Tenets of Maat was written first, this person concludes, the Bible must have copied these 42 tenets and thus it's all a sham (class fallacy of slippery slope, f.y.i.).

Here's the issue: the Bible makes it clear that the Ten Commandments and the Mosaic law existed before the Exodus. Cain killed Abel and God punished Him, why would He punish Cain if Cain didn't know it was bad to kill Abel? God explicitly tells Noah that a man who kills a man must be killed. God also tells Noah to take certain numbers of animals into the ark based on clean and unclean status. God destroys Sodom & Gomorrah for sexual immorality, idolatry, and many other sins. All of this occurs before Moses receives the stone tablets from God. Per the Biblical narrative, God didn't suddenly decide these things were wrong when the Israelites were at the bottom of the mountain, He was reminding them of what they had forgotten. In Exodus 20:8, He clearly prefaces His sentence with "remember" implying that this is information they once knew.

Now lets follow the line of history, both biblically and secularly. According to both the Bible and science, we all came from one point of origin. Regardless of your belief in creation or evolution, both ideas agree that humanity came from one place, one group, then spread across the globe. Now, biblically, after the flood we have 3 groups of people—Hamites, Shemites, and Japhethites—spreading across the world. Moses came from the line of Shem, however, Shem, Ham, and Japheth are all descendants of Noah and would have the been taught the same "tenets," "commandments," "principles," "laws," etc. Similarly, if you think about it from a secular point of view, as the population split (regardless of number, direction, etc.) they would have taken the teachings/ideas of that original community with them. Remember, the Bible says it is Ham's son Mizraim who originates Egypt, where the 42 Tenets originated. It is possible he took those teaching with him, but over time the Egyptians turned to Ra and Isis. Think about your own family. You and your siblings were brought up the same, but do you actually behave the same? Sure you share some characteristics but you don't necessarily hold the same beliefs or practice the same lifestyle. The same would be true for these people as they split up. Some may have take pieces of this original culture, others the entire belief system. Ever wonder why most ancient civilizations had some form of god? Why everyone decided it wasn't ok to kill, when in nature there's nothing wrong with a lion killing another lion?

I have a friend who is not religious, but we both agree that killing, stealing, lying, cheating, etc. is wrong; you know what, both of our parents are religious though. The difference is, I chose to believe in God after I passed the point of following due to Mom & Dad's influence, while he chose not to. I did not copy him and he did not copy me, we simply stem from a common origin. There is nothing that says the originators of the 42 Tenets of Maat weren't taught these principles in the original community. Just because they put it on paper earlier on the timeline doesn't mean that other people weren't also following the same principles, regardless of whether that blossomed into Hinduism, Judaism, Buddhism, Atheism, Islam or whatever have you. Society was not as it is today, in which everyone records every minute detail of their life on a blog or in a video. There was a time when no one wrote anything down, and even larger period of time when only certain people were allowed to read/write... The point in Exodus where Moses brings down the tablets is simply the point in Israelite culture that God said you need this written down and set on display, so you can't forget it.

My point is, evidence that someone else held similar beliefs but didn't worship the same god or didn't worship a god at all, years before Moses wrote the Ten Commandments doesn't prove anything. While it may open the door for the possibility that Moses saw the 42 Tenets of Maat and instead split them into the commandments and ordinances if you're dead set against believing the Bible, it doesn't break the story given in the Bible.

If you have chosen not to believe the Bible and reject God, that is your decision. While I do not agree with you, I will not be knocking on your door to harass you about your decision. In return, I ask that you not lose logic and attempt to "prove" me wrong with slippery slope arguments. It makes sense that a Christian tries to spread the word of God; He commanded us too. But there are only 3 reasons I can see non-believers trying to spread disbelief: 1) Jehovah's Witnesses knock on your door daily to harass you (i.e. "Christians" harass you about your disbelief); 2) You need validation of the majority to feel secure in your disbelief so you want more non-believers in the world; and/or 3) your disbelief in God is merely a seed planted by Satan thus his desire to overthrow God resurfaces in your perception of the world. Personally, I don't see a lot of my Christian friends harassing my non-Christian friends, which leads me to have little faith in option #1. Whatever your reason, please at least think all the way through before jumping to conclusions. A factual assessment from your discovery of the 42 Tenets of Maat is not "Moses copied this from 2000 years ago and God does not exist" but "Did Moses copy the ten commandments from the 42 Tenets of Maat? How and why did the 42 Tenets of Maat come into existence and does that have any baring on the existence of God?" Anything else is speculation and opinion. For the believer, it is easy to answer the last question with no; for the non-believer, it may be a little harder to answer. Either way both answers are opinions.

Tongue Tied

2015-08-18T21:49:00.000-04:00

Words are coming out,
Jumbled thoughts flow steady
Tell the world thoughts I understand
In broken riddles
And senseless nonsense...
I know it sounds crazy
It doesn't make sense
I know it sounds bad
It didn't come out the way I hoped
But the words can't change—
Permanent shears in the fabric of time
So I shut my mouth,
Seal away the tongue-tied fool
In favor of pen and paper
And hope for the scholar I know.

The False Calm

2015-07-30T22:12:00.000-04:00

I turn away,
But the vision is still there—
I close my eyes,
But they still see...
I try to wrap myself
In a silk cocoon
Fade away into natures arms,
But these bullets pierce
The strongest of walls
This silence breaks
The hardest of hearts...
A metaphorical calm before the storm
When the streets run red with blood
Drained from brown and black bodies
And the very last breath is a cry for help
But the ears of the masses are turned away
They expect us to wait and wait, day after day
To die and to cry, to lay souls resting in the deep
Not to wake screaming from the nightmares we keep
Only to realize we were never asleep...

Church Pews

2015-07-25T21:47:00.000-04:00

Familiar streaks in the brown of pine wood
Moving up the building walls without pause
Lit up in purple, red, and yellow hues
Refracted light from the stained glass...
Sound travels like glue
It binds one memory to another
As the old women rock in the pew.

Time is of the Essence

2015-07-10T19:58:00.000-04:00

I thought free time was what I needed—
Empty days and easy planning
Where the words can flow freely
And stories can be told
But my mind is blank
And my body tired...
Time is not issue

Flying in the Sky with Wings

2015-07-05T19:01:00.000-04:00

I watch the ground descend
Below me
The trees shrink—
Tiny green dots
Beneath
Long white wings
And I drown out the popping of my ears
Concentrate on the vision...
Hills and lakes drifting away.
The clouds drift on
Free and intangible
Flowing.

Crazy girl, watching the sky
Around me
Open, untouched, and clear
Enveloped in blue
Saturated
In calming peace
And I want to stay in the sky forever
Looking down at green and blue mixing
Rolling hills meet rolling waves
I could drift above them
Quite and untouchable
Smiling.