Sister Escape

I Can't See It Coming Down My Eyes So I Gotta Make This Post Cry - Jay Z voice

noreply@blogger.com (lemonswithsalt) — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 03:49:00 +0000

My mother had only one tattoo: a flower with me and my brother's names below it located on her right calf. I remember the day she got it, she complained of the pain. But hey, she loved us. She also loved the singer Mariah Carey and Mariah Carey loves butteflies. My mom would always point out some way in which Mariah incorporated butterflies, either as the diamond butterfly ring or the amazing song on her album. So I thought it was only fitting that my first tattoo would be on my mother's birthday - in the same spot as my mother's tattoo- of a butterfly with "Mommy" underneath.

My mom's birthday was February 27. She would have been 46. Everyone in our family handles her birthday differently. My 11 year old brother would not remember her as he only knows our grandmother as 'mom'. My aunt would be overcome with grief and then guilt as she would remember the pact that they made, a pact she failed to keep: "if anything happens to either of us, we take care of the others children". My grandmother would stay busy so that she doesn't have to recall that she outlived her own child. My uncle would go out and drink and cry.

And I'd ask a new question. This year, I wondered what her hair would look like. Would she have grays peaking out causing her to have a 'where did my youth go' moment? Would she have dyed it her natural rusty brown? Would she have joined me on my natural hair journey and cut it all off? Would she have been nervous to chop it? Would I be snapping photos of her in a salon, would she have cut it herself or would she trust me with her hair even after the hair rollers and spritz incident?

It's been 8 years without having someone to call mom and the whole 'time heals all wounds' shit is a lie. I listen to my friends go on about their parents feeling slightly bitter that they have some. I see little girls on the train with their mothers wondering why it was decided that I could no longer have that. To be honest, it doesn't hurt as it used to. It doesn't strangle my heart and leave me gasping for air as it did in the beginning. In that case, I suppose it has healed. But there are these moments when the longing overtakes me. It's the broken bone that has mended but is so easy to re-injure.

We weren't really speaking before she died. My mother was this brilliant, beautiful, witty woman, innovative and open-minded, and she was unhappy. Her boyfriend (my brother's father) of ten years was a selfish, cheating user and she struggled to be accepted by him and a good mother to me. And as it's no picnic being a single, struggling mom in a fucked up relationship, she needed relief. So she drank. She drank and at the time, I loved it because she became mellow. We'd play Scrabble, cards, dominoes and I'd get to stay up a little later on school nights to read for fun. But she also liked having me watching my younger brother (13 year age difference) while she went to the bar.

In my neighborhood, a 15 year old with a 2 year old child wasn't strange and I'd get comments from guys I had never seen before, as I passed with a stroller to pick up my brother from daycare, that the child wasn't theirs. Well of course it isn't. When your '21 years older than you' mom drops out of high school and gets a GED, even if she was able to land a job in the Financial District, she expected you to not have to travel along her footpath. She would stay up with you until your diorama earned you an A. She would punish you for not getting higher than an 80 on a Math test. And when she pawned her chain with Christ on the cross to buy you a graphing calculator, you'd vow to yourself to never, ever, not excel in Math. In fact, you'd vow to be perfect entirely.

She was right by the way. I got a 97 in AP Calculus but that was senior year of HS. She wasn't around for that. She didn't see me graduate high school either, making me the first in the family. And she wasn't around to see me graduate from college with a BS in Biology. She doesn't even know I stopped exploring the colors of the rainbow with my hair dyes after she died. Instead, I settled on purple, like a widower dons black, as it was a color with which she literally plumed her wardrobe and bedroom. She wasn't there as I got my first credit card in the mail, when I went to the hospital after a breakdown nor to help me heal after my first broken heart.

But we weren't speaking when she died. It was Friday night, it was warm, I wanted to ride my bike and she wanted to go to the bar around the corner. Which means I'd have to watch my brother and could no longer be outside. And you know what? I didn't feel like being perfect. I told her I wasn't going to watch her son so she could go drink. I was 15, I knew what happened soon after. She'd come home late in the morning and I'd hear her throwing up in the bathroom, a sound that kept me from alcohol until 2 years ago. She was livid. I was trying to explain to her that it wasn't my duty to watch her son; she was trying to make me understand that I was her child and I'd do as she said. It ended with her throwing a bike at me and us not engaging in real conversation for months.

Last year, I asked would we have been best friends again. I never answered it because to say yes would mean reliving loss all over again. But as so much has happened, just these past few years since I've returned to the rest of my family after college, I remember how great it felt to have someone in your corner. I learned that I tried so hard with my ex because I wanted to fit with him, so I could have the family I'd been deprived. The family he had been given.

She died the first week of 2004. Sometimes, I consider myself old because according to my mom's life, mine would end in 13 years. I know, that's crazy, but it was a Friday morning, we were finally warming up to each other and she gave me the last bit of money in her purse for lunch. We lived paycheck to paycheck, that day was payday and she only had 90 cents. I told her not worry, I'd scrape up a dime and buy my trusty Mountain Dew. That afternoon I was listening to my grandmother frantically telling me in the waiting room "ella se cao". My mother always fell. She could trip laying down. But she didn't trip this time. She just fell out in the street. And they failed to tell me that she never got back up. So I don't buy into the, I'll die when I'm 'old' adage.

And I don't let my guard down very often. When I wanted to be perfect, I had to build walls so that imperfection couldn't seep out or creep in. Now, I don't let my guard down because I truly don't know how much more I can take. Because I know that no matter how many times you say you'll be together forever, you cannot guarantee it. I don't know how much more loss and disappointment I can withstand. Whitney Houston belted out that she didn't know her own strength. Neither do I but I have no interest in learning it. I may not have "been built to break" but the Titanic wasn't suppose to sink and we know how that ended.

I'm the 'perfect' one in my family. I am the high school graduate, the college graduate, the smart one, the 'good' one, the budgeter, the homework helper, computer repairman, IT associate. I am the artist, the scientist, resume builder, business partner, interest free bank loaner, issue resolver. If I don't know the answer to their questions, I usually know how to find the answers. And they've decided that I know everything, that I really am the perfect person I always wanted to be. And I am not. I'm so, so fucking far from perfect.

In those moments, I desperately wish I had my mother. I'd finally be able to empathize with her. I could finally tell her I understand. That taking responsibility of your whole family is spine crushing, the pedestal they placed us upon is too high. That I get why it was so hard to leave her boyfriend. That you placed how you felt about you ("it's called self-esteem" *Katt Williams*) in their hands and it's easier to try to reclaim it from them than to reestablish it within you. That bills can be a blow. That an hourly wage is a fucking lie when you don't deduct taxes. That when things I need go on sale, I have an economic orgasm. That people can grow older without maturing. That liquor really does quiet all those negative thoughts. And that liquor isn't the only way...

One Christmas, my mom bought my grandmother a gold ring with a row of white amethyst stones. Amethyst is my mother's birthstone, not my grandmother's, but she bought it for her mom nonetheless. When I went off to college, my grandmother put the ring on my finger. "Now you have both of us," she told me. A stone has since fallen out of the ring but I refuse to take it off to get it replaced. It's not easy to risk losing another piece of me.

I don't know what I'll ask next year. I know I'll take to her grave her favorite gum, Big Red, and her favorite soft drink, Dr. Pepper. Maybe I'll be a medical school matriculant by then and can begin a career of ensuring other girls get to keep their mothers for just a little longer. But I don't know what to ask. I do, however, know what to tell her: I still shouldn't have to watch your son but I'm glad you blessed me with him. He has your laugh, your wit and your drive, even if he never knew you.

And this:

You did a good job Mom. You were not perfect, but you didn't have to be. Your kids aren't perfect either but there was nothing to fear, we turned out quite all right.

Happy 46th.

Understanding Eating Disorders: Moving Beyond the Basic

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 04:05:00 +0000

Hola!!

It's been a minute, you know the deal.

I read this great article at www.alternet.org about eating disorders (it's nat'l eating disorder month) and how we should address them. The author, Autumn Whitefield-Madrano, explains that by viewing negative body image as a factor instead of a symptom of EDs we ignore the fact that an ED is, in fact, a mental illness. If we accept that poor body image is a driving force for developing an ED then we assume that if we diversify dominant cultural images of bodies then we end EDs. Eh, not so simple....

If we realize that EDs are a mental illness and not because you played with Barbie for a little too long then we have to look at a broader range of causes i.e. DEPRESSION, stress and your cultural as well as home environments. These are the three main factors that contribute to developing an eating disorders. Don't get me wrong, negative body image is most definitely in the picture-- but it has received too much of the focus.

For all us Colored Folk:

Some of you might be thinking, "phst. that's a white girl thing...'
Phst. No it's not. I know plenty of women of color who have eating disorders like bulimia and anorexia nervosa. And that deserves more acknowledgment! I also know plenty of women who OVEREAT in an attempt to self-medicate their depression and quell their loneliness and isolation. I would count binge eating and overeating as eating disorders...

What do all of you think? Do you think that women of color suffer from 'eating problems' as much as our white sisters?

Chime in Folks!

Theater Review: Katori Hall’s Hurt Village

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 05:39:00 +0000

Often discussed in a sociological context, poverty is a distant phenomenon for many of us. It is what we critique in our college classes, lament among friends, and romanticize in rap lyrics. But at times, too many of us choose to dismiss it.

In her current off-Broadway play, Hurt Village, accomplished playwright Katori Hall compels our attention with characters whose struggles are profound, yet common. Through their stories, the alienating nature of poor people’s lives is eliminated, at least temporarily. With dynamic performances from the actors, we cannot help but feel for people who live with unimaginable pain, even if we do not particularly identify with their issues. The combination of great storytelling and acting makes for a good theater experience, even when our connection to the characters is made by empathizing with their misery, their hurt.

Set in Hall’s native Memphis, TN, the play explores the story of troubled family and friends, and their quest for survival revolves around real life housing projects aptly called Hurt Village. The protagonist, 13-year-old Cookie (Joaquina Kalukango), may be too young to create drama of her own. She is a curious student who is bussed to an all-white, presumably adequate school but cannot seem to escape the chaos of her home life: Crank, her abusive mother (Marsha Stephanie Blake), Buggy, an erratic father who has been out of her life until recently (Corey Hawkins), and a foul mouth, cantankerous grandmother called Big Mama (Tonya Pinkins). There are few characters to root for in this play, given their lack of drive and overall negativity. But I found myself wishing the best for Cookie, hoping she might avoid the allure of addiction, criminal activity, and the quicksand of despair that traps her family.

In an attempt to set Hurt Village apart from the typical story about poor black people, Hall includes criticisms of political issues, including welfare reform, affordable housing, and veterans’ struggles. Her criticisms are well taken but are not enough to make the play distinct in nature, especially with characters who are close to being caricatures. The story may not be a creative one, but it is poignant and comical, though sometimes outlandish. However, it’s not every day our emotions channel those of others who live in a world away from us.

A Lost Icon: Whitney Houston

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 04:16:00 +0000

Ladies and Gents. I am still reeling from the news. When Le Chele texted me asking me if I had heard about Whitney...I just never imagined. I had just seen pictures yesterday of her leaving a party. She looked so full of life. Folks, you just never know the day or time.

Many youngins who don't know Whitney Houston and what she brought to not only black culture, but also music culture in general, may only remember the drug-addled part of her life. Unfortunately this is what has taken center stage in her characterization, even more so than her amazing vocal talent. And it's a damn shame.

I remember growing up just in love with "I Want to Dance with Somebody" and "I Will Always Love You". She had this ridiculous voice that I would try (and still do) to mimic and her music was the epitome of the best. Her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner has yet to be topped, her movie "The Bodyguard" remains one of the best showcasing of her vocal (and acting) talent- creating some of the most passionate and beautiful ballads ever, and barely anyone in the current music sphere has come close to her delivery and talent. She is one of the best. We are all sadden at such a surprising departure and I can only shake my head and send my prayers out to her family and hope that she has found peace.

"Star Spangled Banner"

"I Have Nothing"

"I Love the Lord"

"I'm Every Woman"

For Real Though?

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 02:35:00 +0000

For those of you who don't know me... I'm a public health goon. I love the theory; I love the practice.

With that said, I have a particular interest in public health campaigns. How they are created, how they are funded, and who gets to design them are questions that are constantly swirling in my mind. And sometimes, the swirl comes to a boil when I feast my eyes on bullshit like this:

Like, yo....what the fuck? For real? If we are going to try to tackle obesity then we need to do it in a way that does not marginalize, demonize and dehumanize fatty bodies. (For the record, no hate when I fatty...I love a booty with a little jiggle).

Why is it that we constantly, incessantly want to believe that fat = bad. How many fucking times have you heard someone (boy, girl or trans) say 'I'm so fat.' I fucking can't stand it. Not only does it make you uncomfortable because now you've suddenly been propelled to defend someone's self-confidence but... you can't help but think, shit...'am I fat, too?'
EVEN if you don't think that being fat is bad, it's portrayed in such a negative light that you internalize these body-shaming mantras. So when you see an ad like this, that implies fat = bad and wrong and ugly, you start to see yourself differently. You start to distance yourself from other human beings. You might think, 'pfft, thank God I dont like that...' Or 'I can't stand myself... I look like that.'

There is nothing inherently wrong with a fat body in the same way that there's nothing naturally beautiful about a thin one.

I wish that public health folk would try a little harder. These campaigns are simply not effective.

What do you all think of these ads?

What is Your Weakness?

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 15:52:00 +0000

As I cam into work today I had prepared myself for a long day of work and an even longer day of homework. I was optimistic that I could get what I had planned done and that everything would go well. What I hadn't planned for was to be assaulted by the smell of my weakness. One of the few things that has, in my adulthood, been both a treat and a curse. Twizzlers.

This candy has been an end to many diets. It has also been a comfort when I was particularly stressed. Either way it has been a weakness for me. I love this candy. It is undoubtedly my favorite candy other than Twix and Take 5. And even though I gave up candy for New Years, I have relapsed. Today I gave in. I got to my office and smelled the candy. My coworker who was eating the Twizzlers and had offered me some, ~~I'm cursing her as we speak.~~ JK., informed me that another coworker was selling the candy. I reflected on my resolution not to eat candy for all of 5 minutes. I weighed the pros and the cons. I could continue to work on my resolution to my personal satisfaction. But in the end I decided that I deserved this treat. Especially because I am planning on doing an all-nighter just to get some assignments in early. That and I know myself. Though I may finish the bag today (it's a small one, so sue me), I won't automatically go back to splurging on candy like I did last year. And because I shop for the household groceries, I have made it a rule not to go down the candy aisle, especially if candy my family likes is on sale. So far so good.

Meh. So I've given up on one resolution. I still have 7 more that I have been working diligently on. One bag or bar of candy everyone once in a long while won't hurt me. As long as I don't make it a habit. I just need to remember that Twizzlers (and my other favorites) are my weakness and that if I don't control myself I'll relapse something bad. It's all about will power and I hope I'll have enough to get through this year.

So ladies and gents. What is your weakness? And how do you handle it?

Check Your Receipts!

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 19:52:00 +0000

Happy Hump Day Folks. For some this is a day to rejoice. The work week is almost over and it is so much closer to the weekend. For others, like me, this day spells doom. I'm looking at you ridiculous mountain of homework.

Anyway, as I was getting ready this morning I was thinking ahead about the groceries I need to buy next week and that made me think of my most recent grocery purchase. Just last weekend I had gone to my area Shoprite and purchased about $130 worth of food. (We have a big family and sometimes you just have to stock up.) And one thing that I learned from my mother and father is to always check the receipt. Sure you may check the prices as the item is being scanned but sometimes you miss something and double checking is always best, especially when it comes to money.

When I checked my receipt for my purchases, I found that 2 items I bought were wrongly priced and that I had been overcharged. Because I had double checked I was able to get the items for free, something that many supermarkets do for customers when the store is in the wrong. I got back $3 and my items for free. And that $3 can go far in this economy.

So folks, if you don't already, check your receipts. You may be surprised just how often stores make mistakes and you pay for it.

Why I saw Red Tails AND Pariah

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 02:26:00 +0000

Hola Folks...sorry about the absence...nah mean?

Over the past few days I splurged and saw TWO movies (bc yes... in the city I live in going to see a movie in theaters is 'spencive) . And boy, was it worth it.

The first was Red Tails. I walked into the theater secretly expecting to be offended but I walked out of this film feeling relaxed and even mildly entertained. Sure, for some Red Tails was whack and did not really explore the extent of the racial tensions our heroes had to face. Yea, the movie could have done more in that department... but it's George Lucas... IF we really care so much we should make our own reenactment. Don't complain about the funding ... look at all the low-budget but effective, accurate and informational videos out there. Like this one, for example, that highlights the life of Ms. Oney Judge.

I went to see the film not to 'learn' and not to prove to white hollywood that black folks watch movies, I went because I wanted to be entertained.

Now, Pariah. If you have not yet seen this film... what are you waiting for? It was SOOO good. No really. SO good. Oh wow....
The film is a coming of age story about a black lesbian from a middle class family in Brooklyn. I saw this film to support this narrative. Pariah is a movie about a hero. Yes, a hero. For a young, black woman, with very little social support to come out to her family and friends as a lesbian is a heroic act. She is marginalized and routinely harassed by strangers and those who are closest to her but she does not cower. She stands firm to who she is in face of all these challenges.* We should always applaud that.

If you haven't heard of it... you can check out the preview here.

* I'm not saying that every gay person who is NOT out is not a hero. I realize that it is a complicated and multi-faceted issue. Nonethless, being out and gay is a difficult process and

Web Junk 3 (Slightly NSFW)

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:53:00 +0000

Happy Hump Day My Good People!

It has been a hectic time of me balancing between being lazy, a total fatty, and doing homework. But I'm back with this week's web junk.

First is this hilarious tumblr I stumbled upon (see what I did there?) on the facebook. I can't remember who shared it so I can't give them their props. But Celebs that Copy Brandy entertained me highly, especially when they compared Brandy to the Queen of England. Mad props.

Next is a hilarious video that my lil cuz Jim showed me while he came up from his southern haunts to visit. This video was a bit weird at first but it grew on me immensely. I hope you enjoy the "White Boy Boogie" as much as I did. Skip to 4:28.

And last but certainly not least is my favorite video of the week. This little doozey had my jaw dropping and me ready to go get a yoga mat discount from groupon. Real Talk. I give my girl Eun all the props for showing me this jem. I mean gawddamn. And you'll understand why after watching it. BTW folks. It's slightly NSFW so be warned.

And there you have it. I hope work or school or your kids doesn't kill you and/or give you grey hairs. Happy Hump Day!

The Old, Old, Old, Oldies

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 07:36:00 +0000

Most cities with a lot of black people have at least two or three radio stations that play oldies. The classics. The good stuff. But why do oldies stations primarily play music from the 70's, 80's and 90's? Soul Train was great but soul music existed way before the decade that brought us black power. Here are a just a few examples of great music your grandparents may know something about.

Papa Chele played Ben E. King's greatest hits album for at least twelve years straight. For an album that includes Spanish Harlem, you could imagine why. Many of you are familiar with King's song, Stand By Me. A former lead singer for The Drifters, he scored his first hit in 1961 with Spanish Harlem.

She was taken from us too soon but Dinah Washington left behind plenty of music for us to treasure. She passed away at the age of 39 from an accidental overdose. Despite such tragedy, Dinah is remembered as one of the most successful female singers in the 1950's. Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby is a 1962 recording but it was first written by Louis Jordan in 1944.

Speaking of Louis Jordan, it is only appropriate that he be included in this list, and heard on our radio stations today. Tell me this isn't soul you hearing! Not just soulful, but The Father of Rhythm of Blues was often comical and political. I first heard Beans and Cornbread on the Malcolm X soundtrack but other songs of his including What's the Use of Gettin' Sober, That Chick's Too Young to Fry and Pettin' and Pokin'. Beans and Cornbread was recorded in 1949.

I really don't think this wonderful woman needs an introduction. Ms. Lena Horne, ladies and gentleman.

Do ever wish for TV One's hit television show Unsung to make an episode about a certain artist you love? With his incredible career and many gifts, it would be great for younger generations to learn about Johnny Mathis and the contributions he made to music. Chances Are was recorded in 1957 and a year later, Mathis compiled a selection of chart-topping single he made with Columbia Records and created a Greatest Hits album, the first ever in history.

It's important to may homage to all the soul musicians that gave music we have learned and loved. Let us not limit our appreciation to music simply because it is more familiar to our ears. Artists mentioned above and their contemporaries laid the foundation for all of the sounds we groove and bop our heads to. So call your local classic soul stations and make the disc jockeys dig deep for those old, old, oldies!

Teaching Reading is Fundamental

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 21:39:00 +0000

With pure luck, I was able to find another assistant teaching job in an after school program. The elementary school is located in a neighborhood adjacent to mine with very similar demographics. The area is almost entirely black, middle class with many Caribbean residents. The school itself is aesthetically appealing with artwork on almost every wall.

It is almost night and day when compared to the last school I worked in where the hallways were decorated with cafeteria trash, rather than student drawings. And instead of the disrespectful, volatile kids from before, the kids in my current school are disciplined and appropriately innocent.

I am impressed with the school so far. While the students' performance on last year's standardized tests were average, the parents and staff work hard to provide the kids with the resources needed to improve the overall quality of the school. This includes two after school programs, Saturday school and a variety of extracurricular activities.

Again, it is a fairly decent school. I'm happy. I did, however, notice something slightly bothersome. I teach first grade. Out of a class of twenty four, having two or three who cannot read is not too bad. (Especially when compared to the two or three who could read in another low performing school I taught in briefly.)

I'm not familiar enough with curricula in New York City's public schools, but I wonder if kids are being taught reading fully in kindergarten or if educators are instead waiting until the first grade. I hope this is not the case because learning how to read is difficult, especially for children with learning disabilities. It is likely that kindergarten teachers have to compensate for those who did not attend preschool and as a result, have a lot of catching up to do. But doesn't this give more reason for us to start earlier??

What are your thoughts?

My Focus for the New Year

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 04:12:00 +0000

It's a new day my beautiful people. Happy New Year and be blessed!

This year has been surprisingly robust, sometimes challenging, but altogether a blessing for me. This blog has definitely helped me grow as a woman, intellectual, student, sister, daughter, and as a friend. I thank you so much for sticking around, taking the time out to read our thoughts, and just being involved with our growth as women.

As my friend Zipporah let it be known; the term "resolutions" is like setting your self up to fail. So I don't have any New Year's Resolutions. I have foci. And yes that is a word. Here are my Foci for the New Year. And of course, you all will be some of the first to know when I succeed and fail. It's a process and hopefully I'll be successful and able to maintain focus.

1. Have my own place. It's nice (and basically free- though I do help with bills) living at home, but I need some freedom. I'm a grown ass woman (I like to tell myself) and it's time for me to be able to fully do me. Because we all know that all of us hide some of ourselves from our parents.

2. Lose 40 lbs. So I totally fell off my Kanye West Workout Plan and have just had a glorious time eating and drinking whatever I could get my hands on. And this started before the holidays, so I have no excuses. I could blame the treadmill that broke a few months ago, but I was just too lazy to continue my exercise regime. But I'm definitely going to get back on the horse. It's past time.

3. No soda or juice (unless as a mixer) or candy. Following my previous vein of thought; when I started my workout plan I had cut out soda (though I usually only drink diet anyway), juice, and candy. And it was going splendidly. When I started that again....well let's just say it was an epic fail. So I need some discipline. And since I will continue to need a drink here and there, I'll only indulge in the sugary goodness when I need to booze.

4. Water, water, water [1]. I am the absolute worst when it comes to drinking water. I can go a full day without having a glass, easily. We have a purified water pitcher at home that has helped me with drinking more water. And I take a bottle to work with me every day. But I need to increase my intake but at least 3 glasses a day. Hopefully that will help with my headaches/migraines.

5. Pay off at least a third of my student loans. This one is definitely a must if I hope to count myself as being financially secure. I am accruing more loans from being in grad school, so I need to be a nice dent into the loans I already have. I've been doing really well so far and hopefully I can continue.

6. All A's in my classes. Dear Grad School. WTF are you so hard? I mean I finished my first quarter with a 3.85 GPA, so I'm not doing badly at all. But damn. Grad School is hard.

Well my loves, that's it. I think it's a pretty reasonable list of foci. I just need to discipline myself and plow through it.

[1] I know y'all remember that. Those were the good ol' days of tv.
Forgive the spacing everyone. It took me a good 2 hours to get to the final product and I am far from happy. Not sure if it is blogger, the computer, or chrome.

Do You Have Any New Year's Foci?? Any last year regrets?

First Random Post of 201

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 22:23:00 +0000

Hola folks.

I randomly found these videos by Pierre Bennu. What are your thoughts?

You can watch all 3 videos here;

Black Moses Barbie (Harriet Tubman Commercial) (1 of 3) from pierre bennu on Vimeo.

Black Moses Barbie commercial #2 of 3 from pierre bennu on Vimeo.

Black Moses Barbie commercial #3 of 3 from pierre bennu on Vimeo.

No, really-- I wanna know your thoughts...pleeeaase?

Happy New Year!!! The Year in Recap.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 21:12:00 +0000

Oh Hey 2012. What's really good?

Happy New Year everyone!

We'd like to thank you for all of your support in 2011. You have been good to us. Look out for even more thought provoking, humorous, and just random posts. We hope we can continue to make you laugh, cry, and inspire some aha moments.

So here is a recap of some of our (and your) favorite posts:

1. Safe Sex Commandments
2. Occupy Wall Street- My Story
3. Mississippi Goddam!!!
4. Pig-Pen
5. Why I Hate Chris Brown
6. Personal Libraries
7. PSA for Black Mothers
8. Facing Execution: The Story of Reggie Clemmons
9. Troy Davis: The Death of My Brother
10. Fiore Scott Files: When You Touch My Hair (Part 1)

There's plenty more of course and we will definitely have more to blog about as the year goes on. Thank you for hanging and escaping with us.

What were some of your favorite posts?

Love Is Blind

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 17:44:00 +0000

Back from my pseudo hiatus, I had to come back hard for Throwback Tuesdays! I have been closely following the attacks being made against women's rights, specifically the "personhood" movement. Philly rapper Eve's 1999 hit, "Love Is Blind" seemed fitting for the climate of the times.

Songstress Faith Evans sings the hook beautifully, making 'Love Is Blind' sound beautiful, despite its somber message. The video is tragic and the song is poignant, being one of the few hip hop songs to highlight domestic violence. And for that, it is this week's Throwback of the week.

Web Junk of the Week 2

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 16:25:00 +0000

Hey folks, Happy Friday.

This is my second installment of web junk of the week and I'm here to deliver both humor and slightly revolting material. No worries, safe for work folks, well maybe a little. But make sure you won't disturb your coworkers by laughing, because you might find some of these laugh out of your seat funny.

1. The first one was a video my friend Eun sent me. I was sliding down in my seat from laughing so hard and my coworkers had to ask me if I was okay. The following clip is from a Japanese Prank Show and it is HILARIOUS.

2. Now I hope you aren't eating anything, because you have probably already dropped it from laughing so hard and now you've probably spat it out after seeing this picture.

This particular lady has the Guinness World Record for living woman with tiniest waist (15 inches). The tiniest waste is actually 13 inches and I am totally grossed out and stumped as to how these women where/are still alive.

3. Okay, back to humor. I have found this site The Meta Picture, thanks to my friend Alex, and have been addicted ever since. The memes are hilarious and I find myself constantly sharing and resharing with my friends. So I just had to get you all in on the action. I couldn't post all the pictures since there seems to be a glitch/or I'm not allowed to link to the picture. But here is an example of the pure awesomeness:

http://themetapicture.com/getting-into-college/

Okay, you get the picture. I could go on and on with some of the most fantastic and hilarious memes on the internet. But I suggest you spend a good hour or so going through the site yourself. ~~Especially if your in finals mode.~~ Thank me later.

Got any good web junk you've seen lately? Feel free to shoot it my way at sisterescape@gmail.com. I love finding new things to keep me laughing.

Why I Am Grateful for Obama's Health Care Plan

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 22:24:00 +0000

I've gotten into many online arguments with people, have seen posts and comments that have made me want to flip over tables, and have learned a great deal about the good and the bad about our current American society. I feel that President Obama's election to one of the most powerful seats of power in America and the passing of his Health Care Plan has brought out the best, worst, and downright evil in many people.

I have not always agreed with Obama's policies, and I am often annoyed and disappointed by our current government, however this is one policy I have supported since the beginning. This, admittedly, is primarily because I am one of those in-betweeners who found herself with healthcare after graduating college. I had been under my father's insurance as a minor and as a student, and I knew that as my graduation loomed, that if I didn't find a job with benefits, that I would be shit out of luck.

After graduating from college and being unable to find a job, I was tossed off of my father's insurance. On the one hand it motivated me to take extra care of myself so that I wouldn't break a bone (as my accident prone self tends to do at the worst times) or end up in the emergency room for whatever reason. On the other hand, I also couldn't visit my doctor when I got sick and I had to stop taking certain medications because my prescription ran out. I was only able to find a seasonal part time retail job for the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays, which does not offer benefits. And even when they did offer me a permanent part time position, the cost of paying for medical insurance in comparison to what my biweekly net pay was, was nonsensical. And it was sobering talking to coworkers who (along with their families) didn't have healthcare because they just couldn't afford the expense. I had had an elitist view coming from college, and it was nice having my rose-tinted glasses knocked off.

Examiner

However, under President Obama's Health Care Plan, specifically the Affordable Care Act, I am covered until I am 26 if I choose to remain on my father's plan. Luckily beginning in January of 2011, I was added back onto my father's insurance. This was especially auspicious since just the end of that month I found myself in the emergency room with a broken foot. Talk about good timing.

Of course the hospital made a mistake and never billed my insurance, instead billing me (and twice) for my treatment. Because of that I was able to see just how much I would have had to pay if I didn't have insurance. It was about $4000+ just for a broken foot. And for someone making only $7.25/hr at around 20 hrs a week (you do the math), paying that myself would have left me so far in the whole it's laughable.

But thankfully, because of the healthcare plan I was covered under my father. Sure he has to pay a higher premium, but it is so worth it in the long run. And I do my part to pay other expenses for my family, so it's not as if I'm a complete moocher- which is something many people seem to see us inbetweeners as. I've gotten into many debates with people over the internet who just don't understand why they have to pay for other's children to remain on healthcare. Often they blame us for higher premiums when they need to be blaming big business, the insurance companies. And a parent is not forced to add their child back onto insurance. It's optional, and those that do more than likely have no problem paying that premium.

I'm saying all this as the White House released the latest data regarding coverage of young adults like me. 2.5 million once uninsured young adults were able to hop back onto their family's plan, many of whom (like me) would love to be able to afford our own benefits, but can't for one reason or another. Even with my current part time job where I make a significant more amount of money than the minimum wage, I can barely afford the insurance costs per month (over $100) and my job is thinking of increasing the costs. I'm extremely grateful, especially with my up and down health, that I am covered. I think of it this way. I have being paying for social security since I turned 16. I will never see any of that money. Maybe they'll have another government program for me when I reach retirement age. Probably won't. With nearly 50% of Amers living in poverty or considered poor, I don't think it's unreasonable to offer some form of safety net for those of us transitioning into a tepid economic climate. It's not like many, if not most of us, don't want full time paying jobs with fantastic benefits. For many of us, it's just taken a much longer time than the baby boomers had to, to get such jobs. So I for one appreciate President Obama and am extremely grateful for the Affordable Care Act.I may not agree with all he does, but this one policy gets my vote.

AN: Please read this fantastic op-ed regarding one person's own experience with the new healthcare plan and having a pre-existing condition.

Almost 1 out of 5 Women in America are Sexually Assaulted

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 04:33:00 +0000

I'm not sure if I can provide much commentary about something so obviously tragic. Instead, I'll just cite a few more statistics from today's New York Times' article highlighting the magnitude of sexual assault in the best nation in the world:

Nearly one in five women surveyed said they had been raped or had experienced an attempted rape at some point
One in four reported having been beaten by an intimate partner
One in six women have been stalked
1 percent of women surveyed reported being raped in the previous year, a figure that suggests that 1.3 million American women annually may be victims of rape or attempted rape
One in seven men have experienced severe violence at the hands of an intimate partner, the survey found
More than half of female rape victims had been raped by an intimate partner and 40 percent had been raped by an acquaintance

There are two words I typically don't appreciate in political discourse, crisis and and war. However, I feel they are appropriate to use here. People love to describe unfortunate issues as crises, especially those related to social justice. But if everything is a crisis, then nothing is really a crisis. In my opinion, the prevalence of sexual assault accurately fits the definition of a crisis as defined by Merriam-Webster.

"an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending; especially : one with the distinct possibility of a highly undesirable outcome."

Sexual assault is more a crisis, than lets stay our sorry educational system, for example. It is part of a larger problem which is our country's current war against women. Again, I generally dislike fabricated wars (e.g.- War on Drugs, War on Terror) because they are little more than propaganda bullshakkle and usually involves some money making scheme. The attack against women's bodies is nothing. I just can't help but think sexual assault is linked to recent, radical attacks against women's rights including the nascent "personhood movement" and the administration's decision to require girls under the age of 18 to obtain a prescription for morning-after pill.

The war against women has created a nation that is apathetic to the well-being of women and girls, the tolerance of sexual assault is a byproduct. Because sex crimes are escalating at a time when the attack against women is also escalating politically, (i.e.-state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending) we have created a crisis.

Back to My Escape

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 15:35:00 +0000

Guess who's back in the muva effin house! (cyber shots if you get the song reference)

I'm back y'all and it feels fantastic. Ya miss me? Cause I've missed you all.

While I've been slaving over the computer finishing up my first grad school quarter, I've also been keeping track of posts that I plan on putting up here as soon as I stop partying. Expect some humor and some internet goodies. So here goes:

Web Junk of the Week- This I will hopefully have done by tomorrow actually. (I blame the antibiotics I'm on for not allowing my to drink. Stupid sinus infection.
Throwback Tuesday- Since Le Chele has been dropping the ball lately, I have a few throwback posts waiting in the basement to make ya groove, reminisce, and learn a few things.
My response to the Safe Sex Commandments - I agree with most of them, but I have to speak my piece on one or two.
The promised Fiore Scott Files: When You Touch My Hair Part 2
Fiore Scott Files: Retro Video Games (Part 2)
Why I Give- This topic has been on my mind for a while now and I want to post about it and see how others feel.
Introducing: Drink of the Week- I like to drink. Sue me.

I'm back for now. I might have to take another hiatus when my finals hit for my next quarter, but I'll be around for a minute and hopefully regularly providing you all with entertaining and informative posts. And please, if you have any questions, comments, or have post suggestions feel free to get at us at sisterescape@gmail.com. And for those of you who have already contacted us, we'll be hitting you up soon if we haven't already. And thanks to all the commenters! Keep em' coming folks.

On the Verge of a Breakdown?

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 01:03:00 +0000

Do you ever feel that you're about to breakdown?

Like, fall into a ball on the floor and just sob for an unknown amount of time?

Or, just turn to the random, disinterested person next to you on the subway platform and let them know that you're 'fucked up right now.'

Ever want to just press the 'Emergency STOP' button in the elevator and alert all the passengers to how shitty how life is at this very moment?

I've been there. For reals. And you know what? Just go ahead and cry! Thrash around in your bed! Spill your peas damnit! Because life is unfair, and hard and sometimes...it just sucks!

I'm a big believer in breakdowns. Every time I have one it is followed by clarity and necessary decision making on things that I've been putting off. My only advice would be to stay away from the bottle or pipe.... yea, I know that might be even harder...

We need breakdowns because:
We need reminders to trust in our life process. My breakdowns are caused by my anxiety and my need to be in control. When a bunch of shit happens that I can't control I freak out and get really negative... I assume that I know everything, that I have all the answers and when I come up short get really anxious....because I have lost faith in the process of life that I never had control over.

OK. Remember playing with the BARS at the jungle gym. In all of our recess excitement, running as fast as we could (without throwing up) to jump & reach for a bar and simply miss. The moment when your face falls, your stomach drops and your tallest finger barely grazes the bar... yeah. that feeling. The 'oh shet!' feeling. You didn't know what to do, what would happen next...you were simply midair.

You know what happened next??

You fucking landed and were fine. You landed on YOUR own two feet. Everything you needed to rely on was already with you. Sometimes, in our harshest and most isolating moments, we need to remind ourselves that we will ALWAYS be there for ourselves and ALWAYS have our own backs. You have to be your own best friend. I really believe that. And when we are breaking down because we didn't reach the bar we thought we would--- we must remember that it is all momentary. That moment, just like all other moments, will pass. And so will your breakdown.

Have a Wonderful Night!

Safe Sex Commandments

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:28:00 +0000

Well, Sista Zipporah and I were at her place last night, just chillin and shit. You know how we do. In addition to eating, drankin (of course), we talked about a whole heap of black issues. Of the many black issues that we have, we talked extensively about the continued practice of unsafe sex among our people. I would imagine that this is common among all demographics but considering the prevalence of teen pregnancy and high STD infection rates in our community, it's a problem that disproportionately hurts us more.

So it begs the question, why aren't people using condoms?? They're cheap, ubiquitous and well, important goddammit! Despite the PSA's and the many conversations about dire statistics, people are still not wearing condoms. Why? Clearly the HIV/ AIDS awareness messages are not getting through to black folk, especially young ones. Zippy and I decided to channel our inner fifteen year old, and create reasons to stay protected in a manner that would hopefully resonate with them crazy keeds.

10 Safe Sex Commandments

1. Ladies, if he doesn't want to do it with a condom....then he probably can't do it that good.
2. Would you trust him with you car??? Exactly.
3. Sure, that baby would be cute… but working 40 hrs a week for $7.25 to buy diapers and crappy baby food ain’t!
4. Sex with a condom is better than sex with a 2 year old around.
5. In Genesis it says be fruitful and multiply… but Adam and Eve ain’t have bills to pay!
6. In 2009, African Americans comprised 14% of the US population but accounted for 44% of all new HIV infections. We fuckin up!
7. Compare the price of a condom, with the price of a baby or with the price of lifelong HIV Treatment… WRAP IT UP.
8. Don’t like to swallow… try swallowing a fistful of pills a day to stay alive.
9. Fellas, how many of y'all grew up without a dad? Be a real man and end the cycle with you.
10. It is OKAY to have sex, it’s even better when you know you’re safe.

Occupy Wall Street- My Story

noreply@blogger.com (Le Chele) — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 20:57:00 +0000

It was 10:30 at night when I got home last Thursday. After getting off the train, I decided to try to numb the pain of an additional thirty minute bus ride by catching up with a friend from high school. Expecting the late night conversation to be little more than fluff, it surprisingly turned into a fierce exchange of ideas as I shared with her my experience at Occupy Wall Street. I was just returning from the second anniversary of march's existence so I was still beaming from excitement.

I told her of the various people I knew who were also in attendance. My former high school English teacher was helping me out with a play I am writing and suggested that we head down to Foley Square after my interview with him. Although I am an avid supporter of OWS, I have been lazy and never made it to any of the protests, even the one they had in Jamaica, Queens. It was about five o'c lock when we arrived, and I realized it wasn't just laziness keeping me from attending OWS. After arriving to the area, one the first things we saw were cops equipped with riot gear. I thought to myself, where is our protection? There has been some speculation as to why ethnic minorities have been largely absent at OWS protests. I can't offer much insight into why that may be but this ethnic minority was scared out of her ass. I mentioned to my mom that I wanted to go to the protests and she, another ethnic minority, explicitly told me, "Don't come to me for bail money."

The friend I was on the phone with had the same fears. Luckily the night ended without any conflict. In fact, I found many of the officers to be kind and helpful with directions. I did find it obnoxious when few protesters antagonized the cops without any clear reason in doing so. I was giving mad shade to the silly, little white girl next to me while she was yelling at the cops. I again thought to myself, You best believe that if things get out of hand, I'll be quick to point in your direction and scream 'Cuff her' because my broke, black ass ain't finnah go to jail!

Laughing, my friend inquired about the aims of OWS. She put her boyfriend on three way and he began to challenge me about the validity of their targeting of Wall Street. Though he shared their frustrations with the little oversight placed on our financial industry, he seemed frustrated by Occupys's opaqueness, an aspect that I appreciated. He and I debated about the need for OWS to specify their wants. At that time, I was stepping through the door of my house and saw that my parents were still up. I got off the phone but ended up continuing the conversation with my parents.

They were in bed, watching the coverage from the day's protests in New York City, specifically the hundreds of arrests that were made that day. She stated her disgust with the abuse of law enforcement. While I certainly agreed, I also argued that white liberals' trouble with police brutality is a troubling in itself considering my anecdotal evidence of their tendency for provocation. A police pepper spraying old people and hippies is awful and stupid but it is much different from unarmed black men getting shot. Maybe I was being trivial but she understood my point.

My father, old, jaded and cynical echoed my friend's boyfriend's concerns. He wanted to know what was going to come of this, noting the increased coverage of what was previously largely ignored. I explained that the self-proclaimed movement is centered on the absolute power given to the financial industry and how it contributes to the socio-inequality that plagues our society. Likely speaking to the ubiquity young, white faces on TV he asked me exactly who was watching. But there were unions, students, hippies, immigrant groups, the green party, a few people in work clothes, teachers, aspiring rappers and everyone else in between. Repeating my appreciation of its vagueness, I told him I saw a wide array of people represented which is appropriate because economic affects almost all of us, 99% of us, if you will.

Marching across the bridge with honoree Sister Miss All Ass was somehow empowering for me and the other occupiers. In today's economy it is easy to feel as if you are alone in your struggles. While our struggles vary, particularly in regards to severity and experience, it can all be linked to economic injustice. I may not have fully won them all over, but I was convinced that Occupy Wall Street was working. Some are inspired by it, but everybody is talking about it. The guy holding that sign with a well-know Gandhi quote got it right, "First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, and then you win."

It's Official, I'm Out

noreply@blogger.com (Fiore Scott) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 17:16:00 +0000

Alright people. I'm basically at my wits end here.

Eventhough I said clearly that I would be M.I.A. a few weeks a go, I have been pretty active on this blog. I've also found myself on twitter, fb, and my other multitude of internet sites that I have spent way too much time on in comparison to what I really need to be getting done. My homework.

I have 18 assignment that are due in 4 weeks. This is no joke. I'm only taking two classes but grad school is wrecking my life. And I've been dropping the ball. I mean, I was able to get 3 of those assignments done yesterday, clapforem, but then today I fucked around all day in wonderful wonderful leisure up until...well now. WOMP WOMP WOMP. I mean, maybe I deserved a nice little break after working so hard yesterday. But it's almost 8:30 and I have 3 assignments due by Tuesday. I've dropped the ball folks. And with the difficulty there is even trying to do any homework while I'm at work, I've got to use all the extra time I've got to get this work done.

That being said. It's official. I'm out.

I will be deactivating both my twitter and facebook as of now. I will also be signing out of gchat. And, sorry folks, I won't be blogging until my semester is over. I'll just keep track of the posts I want to write, and there are many, and unleash them when I get back from my academic death. Friends, if you want to get at me and you have my number, make it work.

All that being said, I'm officially signing off.

Deuces.

http://www.nairaland.com/nigeria/topic-632376.0.html

Le Chele: I'm sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 01:28:00 +0000

But...

Oprah's Life Class

noreply@blogger.com (Zipporah Pearce) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 00:22:00 +0000

Well, thank you Ms. Scott for letting people know that I have been slackin'...

Anyway, I have been productive in my absence! I have 'discovered' the beauty of Oprah's Life Classes. Basically, Lady O highlights some of the lessons that she has learned and tried to teach in her 25 years on the Oprah Show. For example, one show is about 'Living In the Moment' (something I try really hard to do) and another focuses on how 'the truth will set you free'.
I've never been a die hard Oprah fan and what not, but this is her at her best!

Anyway see for yourself and watch her show on OWN!

What are some life lessons that Oprah has helped you come to realize?