~~
"I wasn't concerned about the hardships, because I always felt I was doing what I had to do, what I wanted to do and what I was destined to do".
~
“I used to want the words 'She tried' on my tombstone. Now I want 'She did it' ".
Friday, July 14, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Hip-Hop Tidbits
So Long to Black Jesus and Tip Drills
Not sure if it's 100% true but supposedly, after 6 years, BET has let go of the infamously controversial "Uncut". Hopefully, this means they'll try their hand at better programming but that's probably a futile dream.
Back to Where it All Began
According to the The New York Sun, New York is planning to open a hip-hop museum in the Bronx. Folks are already making noise about $1.5 million in capital funding being spent on such a project. We'll see what develops.
Suge's Never Ending Troubles
After being sued and filing for Chapter 11, Suge Knight loses control of Death Row Records. I guess it all makes sense. With Snoop and Dre gone, and the rise of the hyphy movement, Death Row has long since lost its strong hold on west coast music.
Welcome Back Danyel
Lately, I've been wondering what happened to Danyel Smith's blog. I guess it has to do with her,once again, becoming Vibe's Editor in Chief. Congrats Danyel! Big things are sure to come.
Hip-Hops Founding Father Sentenced
---------------
In non-hip-hop related news: Cassey Weierbach needs to be put under the jail for life. Her cell walls should be covered with photos of the 1 million plus African children who are now orphaned due to the AIDS epidemic. Maybe then, she'll realize how foolish she is.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
excuse me as I kiss the sky.....
I met JaHipster aka Tonya Matthews a few years ago at a NSBE conference and her cd of poetry still takes me to that place...
black angel haiku #6
It wasn’t slavery that stopped us
from flying.
It was
from flying.
It was
amnesia.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Who's Bad?
Last Sunday, a small group of us trekked out to New Hampshire for some fun on the beach. Our afternoon was spent splashing around in the ice cold waves, napping and building sand cities.
Today's 8-year-old? Maaaaan, they'd scoff at Michael's past claims of being bad, call him a wangsta and tell him to shut the hell up and sit down before 50 makes him cry. Kids are mean.
Sun kissed and satisfied, we cruised back to Boston with disc one of MJ's HIStory playing in the background. We snapped to "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough" and got a bit sentimental with "She's out of My Life"(I get choked up everytime I hear Mike's voice crack at the end). As we sang along to "Bad", it struck me how much things truly do change.
Your Butt is Mine
I remember watching the "Bad" video and thinking Michael was the ultimate thug. I know, I know crazy, right? But to my 8-year-old mind, a black cropped jacket with shiny silver buckles, long silky waves parted to the side, tight black pants and a group of hard male backup dancers, meant danger.
The word is out, you're doin' wrong
Gonna lock you up before too long
Your lyin' eyes gonna take you right
So listen up, don't make a fight
Your talk is cheap
You're not a man
You're throwin' stones to hide your hands
As his limber gang performed choreographed moves reminscent of West Side Story and Fame in a dark dank abandoned subway station, Michael menacingly thrusted his hips and grabbed his crotch. My younger self was scared for whatever acid washed jean wearing crew that dared to step to them.
Fast forward........
You Say You a Gangasta 
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightenin ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song......
Y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper level, valet a couple strays
Nowadays, supposed musically inclined thugs don't dance. Nah son, that's wild 'mo. Instead they have video honeys that handle that department. Oh, cropped jackets, form fitting pants and ballerina leaps? Yeah right! Are you serious? White tee night gowns are the uniform and the only time they're jumping is over cars and fences when the block is hot.
Nowadays, supposed musically inclined thugs don't dance. Nah son, that's wild 'mo. Instead they have video honeys that handle that department. Oh, cropped jackets, form fitting pants and ballerina leaps? Yeah right! Are you serious? White tee night gowns are the uniform and the only time they're jumping is over cars and fences when the block is hot.
N***** know, the lyrics molestin is takin place
F****** with B.I.G. it ain't safe
I make your skin chafe, rashes on the masses
Bumps and bruises, blunts and Landcruisers
Big Poppa smash fools, bash fools
N***** mad because I know that Cash Rules
Everything Around Me, two glock nines
Any motherf***** whispering about mines
Today's 8-year-old? Maaaaan, they'd scoff at Michael's past claims of being bad, call him a wangsta and tell him to shut the hell up and sit down before 50 makes him cry. Kids are mean.
I'm scared to think who will be considered "hard" and "bad" when I have children.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
you can't sow yam and reap casaba
Have things ever weighed so heavy on your heart, that the pressure awakens you from your sleep? That's exactly what happened to me Thursday morning. I immediately recruited a friend to come along as I beat the streets and attempted to tackle my lengthy to-do list.
We ended up by Coolidge Corner, when a small, obscure art deco antique spot caught our eyes. As we explored the shop, we couldn't help complimenting the owner on his breathtaking collection. A sprite like older Jewish man with grand hand gestures, he told us that his store has existed at the same location for 39 years and how Luther Vandross once spent over $100,000 on his antiques.
Obviously, one who loves an attentive ear, Mr. Mark shared with us photos of his marvelous three-story South End apartment and stories of his youth. The story that touched us was how after repeatedly applying to the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, he was finally admitted on his ninth try. When I asked why he didn't give up, Mr. Mark gave me an incredulous look and simply replied , "Because I wanted to be an artist." Point. Blank. Period.
He graduated at the top of his class due to his perseverance and the financial support of a Black woman who believed in the importance of artistic expression. It is her generosity that has inspired him to offer annual full scholarships to students entering his alma mater.
On our way out he left us with the quote: Live for today and tomorrow miracles will happen.
Inspired, we headed to Ten Thousand Villages, a fair trade store whose purpose is to ensure that artisans from countries like Haiti, Sri Lanka and El Salvador, receive direct profit from their crafts. On this trip, we were in awe of a set of delicate colorful multi-sized boxes made by large sea shells. As the store manager explained to us the process, I wondered how we could ever consider creators of such marvelous artwork to be have nots. We in westernized society supposedly have so much but I have yet to see us produce anything half as stunning. Our growing dependency on technology has blinded us to the beauty and value of our natural resources, making us the unfortunate ones.
As cliche as it may be, I believe wholeheartedly that all things in life happen for a reason. And as we left Ten Thousand Villages I was overcome by all my blessings. The pressure on my heavy heart subsided and right on the sidewalk, tears almost escaped my eyes as I felt the humbling power of how good God is.
I was overwhelmed by the realization that all I ever need to be fulfilled and happy, I've already been given.
We ended up by Coolidge Corner, when a small, obscure art deco antique spot caught our eyes. As we explored the shop, we couldn't help complimenting the owner on his breathtaking collection. A sprite like older Jewish man with grand hand gestures, he told us that his store has existed at the same location for 39 years and how Luther Vandross once spent over $100,000 on his antiques.
Obviously, one who loves an attentive ear, Mr. Mark shared with us photos of his marvelous three-story South End apartment and stories of his youth. The story that touched us was how after repeatedly applying to the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, he was finally admitted on his ninth try. When I asked why he didn't give up, Mr. Mark gave me an incredulous look and simply replied , "Because I wanted to be an artist." Point. Blank. Period.
He graduated at the top of his class due to his perseverance and the financial support of a Black woman who believed in the importance of artistic expression. It is her generosity that has inspired him to offer annual full scholarships to students entering his alma mater.
On our way out he left us with the quote: Live for today and tomorrow miracles will happen.
Inspired, we headed to Ten Thousand Villages, a fair trade store whose purpose is to ensure that artisans from countries like Haiti, Sri Lanka and El Salvador, receive direct profit from their crafts. On this trip, we were in awe of a set of delicate colorful multi-sized boxes made by large sea shells. As the store manager explained to us the process, I wondered how we could ever consider creators of such marvelous artwork to be have nots. We in westernized society supposedly have so much but I have yet to see us produce anything half as stunning. Our growing dependency on technology has blinded us to the beauty and value of our natural resources, making us the unfortunate ones.
As cliche as it may be, I believe wholeheartedly that all things in life happen for a reason. And as we left Ten Thousand Villages I was overcome by all my blessings. The pressure on my heavy heart subsided and right on the sidewalk, tears almost escaped my eyes as I felt the humbling power of how good God is.
I was overwhelmed by the realization that all I ever need to be fulfilled and happy, I've already been given.
Meet me at the barn.....it's going down
Last Saturday, Kindred and her folks threw a celebration in recognition of her graduating from college and her two sisters finishing middle and high school. So, with our overnight bags, a bunch of us piled into cars and headed towards western Mass.
Forget the artists on Cribs and How I'm Living with their extravagant million dollar fish tanks, refrigerators filled with nothing but Cristal and shiny poles in the basement. I am not impressed.
Show me a home with a barn in the back and that's when I'll ooooo and awwww.
Yeah, I said it. B-A-R-N.
Right in Kindred's backyard is a dark red wooden barn, the same size of a one level, single-family home, with a front deck that leads to an above ground pool.
We spent the evening eating good ol' homecooked Haitian food, laughing, taking tons of pictures and dancing in the barn to music provided by our boy Jose from It Bees Like That Entertianment. As the sunlight subsided so did the debauchery and mayhem. In the late night we warmed up by a bonfire, ate s'mores and enjoyed the good company until 4 am.
With sleep still in our eyes, on Sunday morning we trekked down the road for breakfast at a small country diner, whose patrons obviously never saw Black folks in such large numbers before. As the temperature rose, folks said bump it to going back to Boston and hopped into the pool, in an attempt to beat the heat. Wanting to preserve my freshly done do, I opted to take a cold shower instead. But once they managed to push the Back Bay Madame , who's violently allergic to fun, into the water and she didn't come up swinging, my ache to cool off grew stronger. I finally couldn't take it anymore and jumped into the icy water, with my relaxer, pajama shorts, t-shirt and all. The humid afternoon was spent playing a hilarious game of water basketball and splashing around like kids.
My boy B from back home came through for the weekend and all my friends welcomed him into the family.
That weekend I finally, kind of sort of, understood the satisfaction those who aren't in school and are unemployed get from simply chilling. Being care and worry free definitely has its appeal but I just can't live that life for long. Way too ambitious for that.
It's nice to know though that when I need a little vacation and don't have the funds to jet out to St. Tropez and see a a man play the mandolin like Puffy, there's always a nice cozy spot in the boondocks of Massachusetts where I can hideout and relax.
The only sour part of the two day festivities was Kindred's teenage sister's friend (get it?) who is unfortunately lost. While folks scoffed at her behavior, were appalled by her choice of attire and deemed her destined for videos, my heart couldn't help crying for her. Because I know that people in her life are quick to call her degrading names and promise her material gains at the high cost of her selfworth. But who's taking the time to teach her her value?
Forget the artists on Cribs and How I'm Living with their extravagant million dollar fish tanks, refrigerators filled with nothing but Cristal and shiny poles in the basement. I am not impressed.
Show me a home with a barn in the back and that's when I'll ooooo and awwww.
Yeah, I said it. B-A-R-N.
Right in Kindred's backyard is a dark red wooden barn, the same size of a one level, single-family home, with a front deck that leads to an above ground pool.
We spent the evening eating good ol' homecooked Haitian food, laughing, taking tons of pictures and dancing in the barn to music provided by our boy Jose from It Bees Like That Entertianment. As the sunlight subsided so did the debauchery and mayhem. In the late night we warmed up by a bonfire, ate s'mores and enjoyed the good company until 4 am.
With sleep still in our eyes, on Sunday morning we trekked down the road for breakfast at a small country diner, whose patrons obviously never saw Black folks in such large numbers before. As the temperature rose, folks said bump it to going back to Boston and hopped into the pool, in an attempt to beat the heat. Wanting to preserve my freshly done do, I opted to take a cold shower instead. But once they managed to push the Back Bay Madame , who's violently allergic to fun, into the water and she didn't come up swinging, my ache to cool off grew stronger. I finally couldn't take it anymore and jumped into the icy water, with my relaxer, pajama shorts, t-shirt and all. The humid afternoon was spent playing a hilarious game of water basketball and splashing around like kids.
My boy B from back home came through for the weekend and all my friends welcomed him into the family.
That weekend I finally, kind of sort of, understood the satisfaction those who aren't in school and are unemployed get from simply chilling. Being care and worry free definitely has its appeal but I just can't live that life for long. Way too ambitious for that.
It's nice to know though that when I need a little vacation and don't have the funds to jet out to St. Tropez and see a a man play the mandolin like Puffy, there's always a nice cozy spot in the boondocks of Massachusetts where I can hideout and relax.
The only sour part of the two day festivities was Kindred's teenage sister's friend (get it?) who is unfortunately lost. While folks scoffed at her behavior, were appalled by her choice of attire and deemed her destined for videos, my heart couldn't help crying for her. Because I know that people in her life are quick to call her degrading names and promise her material gains at the high cost of her selfworth. But who's taking the time to teach her her value?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
My 50
Folks have definitely caught tagging fever nowadays. I'll be a good sport and go along with it.
So, here goes my 50:
1. How tall are you barefoot?
5′1″ and a half. I didn't realize I was considered short until my freshmen year of college. I guess being tall is a state of mind.
2. Have you ever flown first-class?
Nope and I don't yearn to.
3. One of your favorite books when you were a child?
Dag, I've always been such a bookworm so choosing just one book is hard. If I must, I'd say A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
4. A good restaurant in your city?
My life is shared between two cities right now.
NY:
During Memorial Day weekend Kindred's family put me on to Silk Road Palace on the Upper West Side. That was hands down some of the best Chinese food I've ever eaten. To top it off the waiter continued to fill our glasses with free white wine during our entire meal. Kindred and I made sure to pour a little out for the homies who couldn't be there.
Boston:
Due to health issues my girl Ro has spent the past year on a strict eating regimen. In the beginning it was hard for her to hang out because we would often go to or order food from restaurants that couldn't cater to her dietary needs. Things have gotten much better and for her birthday we discovered Grasshopper in Allston. There isn't any meat, chicken or seafood on the menu but the dishes are so good that it doesn't matter.
5. What is your favorite small appliance?
Right now, my iron. It's been able to work wonders.
6. One person that never fails to make you laugh?
My family and friends. Definitely people who recognize the healing power of laughter.
7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
O Holy Night.
8. What was the first music that you ever bought?
I think it was a TLC cd.
9. Do you do push-ups?
Nah.
10. What was one of your favorite games as a child?
Kickball.
11.What is the one thing that you cook that always receives compliments?
The fam loves my scalloped potatoes, spaghetti and barbecue chicken.
12. When you were twelve years old, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Always an author.
13. Your favorite Soup of the Day?
My mom's soup joumou. January 1st doubles not only as New Year's Day but also the anniversary of Haiti's independance. Since that day in 1804, Haitians around the world drink soup joumou. It is also tradition to bring the soup to the homes of friends and family. We drink it to celebrate our freedom and foster unity.
14. What in your life are you most grateful for?
So many things. But the one thing that I'm consistently grateful for is my family.
15. Have you ever met someone famous?
Yeah but fame is relative. Those I consider famous others may not know or care for.
16. Date Of Birth?
12-09-83. Gifts are welcomed.
17. Top 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
Wondering if it's the truth.
How I can help my girls find what they're looking for.
Why folks can't allow things to be simple.
19. Name five drinks you regularly drink:
Water, apple juice and ginger ale.
20. From what news source do you receive the bulk of your news?
Mostly the internet but also newspapers. Nothing beats holding the actual news in your hands.
21. Current hair?
Jet black, straight and shiny.
22. Current worry?
That things may take awhile to work themselves out.
23. Current hate?
Nothing at the moment.
24. Favorite place to be?
In or by the water.
25. Least favorite place to be?
Anywhere with negative energy.
26. Do you consider yourself well organized?
I'm an organized mess.
27. Do you believe in a afterlife?
I believe in heaven.
28. Where do you think you will be in 10 Yrs?
Definitely someone's mother, maybe someone's wife and anywhere but here.
29. Do you burn or tan?
What? I guess I tan. Always trying to become more darque. ( that was for you Kindred)
31. Are you more optimistic or pessimistic about the future?
Optimistic. I'm in far too many people's prayers to fail.
32. Last time you had an alcoholic drink?
Last Saturday.
33. What songs do you sing in the shower?
Usually some gospel.
34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a kid?
I don't remember. I do remember just being scared of the darkness.
35. What's in your pockets right now?
My sweats don't have any pockets.
36. Last thing that made you laugh?
Someone telling me tonight that Pat Riley can be the next great leader in the Black community.
37. Best bed sheets you had as a child?
The Care Bears.
38. Worst injury you've ever had?
Praising God for only experiencing minor scrapes and bruises.
39. Favorite song?
Far too many.
40. How many TVs do you own?
One.
41. In the last calendar year, how many people have you told that you love them?
So many people. Can't even count.
42. Last thing that made you blush?
When one of my boys said that everyone can't help falling in love with me.
43. Best Compliment received?
"Woooooow! That's my dream girl," said by a teen in Dudley Square.
44. What song is in your head?
"One Last Cry" Brian McKnight.
45. What is your favorite book?
Too many to list one.
46. Last meal you cooked for the opposite sex?
Spicy shrimp, mixed vegetables, rice and a cake for dessert.
47. What songs do you want played at your wedding?
My girl since childhood always jokes that my wedding will a be nonstop concert since I love music so much. There will definitely be some good ol' r&b, classic soul, kompa and something to electric slide to. Oh! Definiately some Cameo and Maze!
48. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Anything uplifting and rejoiceful.
49. What were you doing at 12 midnight last night?
Laughing and having good conversation at the Reflection Pond.
50. What would you like to accomplish with the remaining years of your life?
I hope to help others and myself to be fulfilled and genuinely happy.
What's your 50?
So, here goes my 50:
1. How tall are you barefoot?
5′1″ and a half. I didn't realize I was considered short until my freshmen year of college. I guess being tall is a state of mind.
2. Have you ever flown first-class?
Nope and I don't yearn to.
3. One of your favorite books when you were a child?
Dag, I've always been such a bookworm so choosing just one book is hard. If I must, I'd say A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
4. A good restaurant in your city?
My life is shared between two cities right now.
NY:
During Memorial Day weekend Kindred's family put me on to Silk Road Palace on the Upper West Side. That was hands down some of the best Chinese food I've ever eaten. To top it off the waiter continued to fill our glasses with free white wine during our entire meal. Kindred and I made sure to pour a little out for the homies who couldn't be there.
Boston:
Due to health issues my girl Ro has spent the past year on a strict eating regimen. In the beginning it was hard for her to hang out because we would often go to or order food from restaurants that couldn't cater to her dietary needs. Things have gotten much better and for her birthday we discovered Grasshopper in Allston. There isn't any meat, chicken or seafood on the menu but the dishes are so good that it doesn't matter.
5. What is your favorite small appliance?
Right now, my iron. It's been able to work wonders.
6. One person that never fails to make you laugh?
My family and friends. Definitely people who recognize the healing power of laughter.
7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
O Holy Night.
8. What was the first music that you ever bought?
I think it was a TLC cd.
9. Do you do push-ups?
Nah.
10. What was one of your favorite games as a child?
Kickball.
11.What is the one thing that you cook that always receives compliments?
The fam loves my scalloped potatoes, spaghetti and barbecue chicken.
12. When you were twelve years old, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Always an author.
13. Your favorite Soup of the Day?
My mom's soup joumou. January 1st doubles not only as New Year's Day but also the anniversary of Haiti's independance. Since that day in 1804, Haitians around the world drink soup joumou. It is also tradition to bring the soup to the homes of friends and family. We drink it to celebrate our freedom and foster unity.
14. What in your life are you most grateful for?
So many things. But the one thing that I'm consistently grateful for is my family.
15. Have you ever met someone famous?
Yeah but fame is relative. Those I consider famous others may not know or care for.
16. Date Of Birth?
12-09-83. Gifts are welcomed.
17. Top 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
Wondering if it's the truth.
How I can help my girls find what they're looking for.
Why folks can't allow things to be simple.
19. Name five drinks you regularly drink:
Water, apple juice and ginger ale.
20. From what news source do you receive the bulk of your news?
Mostly the internet but also newspapers. Nothing beats holding the actual news in your hands.
21. Current hair?
Jet black, straight and shiny.
22. Current worry?
That things may take awhile to work themselves out.
23. Current hate?
Nothing at the moment.
24. Favorite place to be?
In or by the water.
25. Least favorite place to be?
Anywhere with negative energy.
26. Do you consider yourself well organized?
I'm an organized mess.
27. Do you believe in a afterlife?
I believe in heaven.
28. Where do you think you will be in 10 Yrs?
Definitely someone's mother, maybe someone's wife and anywhere but here.
29. Do you burn or tan?
What? I guess I tan. Always trying to become more darque. ( that was for you Kindred)
31. Are you more optimistic or pessimistic about the future?
Optimistic. I'm in far too many people's prayers to fail.
32. Last time you had an alcoholic drink?
Last Saturday.
33. What songs do you sing in the shower?
Usually some gospel.
34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a kid?
I don't remember. I do remember just being scared of the darkness.
35. What's in your pockets right now?
My sweats don't have any pockets.
36. Last thing that made you laugh?
Someone telling me tonight that Pat Riley can be the next great leader in the Black community.
37. Best bed sheets you had as a child?
The Care Bears.
38. Worst injury you've ever had?
Praising God for only experiencing minor scrapes and bruises.
39. Favorite song?
Far too many.
40. How many TVs do you own?
One.
41. In the last calendar year, how many people have you told that you love them?
So many people. Can't even count.
42. Last thing that made you blush?
When one of my boys said that everyone can't help falling in love with me.
43. Best Compliment received?
"Woooooow! That's my dream girl," said by a teen in Dudley Square.
44. What song is in your head?
"One Last Cry" Brian McKnight.
45. What is your favorite book?
Too many to list one.
46. Last meal you cooked for the opposite sex?
Spicy shrimp, mixed vegetables, rice and a cake for dessert.
47. What songs do you want played at your wedding?
My girl since childhood always jokes that my wedding will a be nonstop concert since I love music so much. There will definitely be some good ol' r&b, classic soul, kompa and something to electric slide to. Oh! Definiately some Cameo and Maze!
48. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Anything uplifting and rejoiceful.
49. What were you doing at 12 midnight last night?
Laughing and having good conversation at the Reflection Pond.
50. What would you like to accomplish with the remaining years of your life?
I hope to help others and myself to be fulfilled and genuinely happy.
What's your 50?
Monday, June 12, 2006
we've come a long way, a mighty long way
Way back in March, my mother let me know that she'd allow me to miss Easter Sunday if and only if I promised to come home for the church's march. So on a dreary Saturday evening I caught a ride on the Fung Wah and headed home to celebrate.
As my mother prepared Sunday dinner, I peered out the kitchen window at the dauntingly stubborn gray sky and noted that my new suit and satin pumps wouldn't withstand the rain. She assured me that God knew what day it was and He would send the sun down on time. Always steadfast, my mother went back to humming as she lowered the fire under the brown rice and beans.
Word of the march reached far. Over two hundred congregation members and supporters stood under umbrellas in front of the former worship space, waiting for the march to commence. It seemed that I was the only person concerned with the weather because no one else bothered to look up and acknowledge the dark clouds. I guess they had waited far too long for this day and would march through even the heaviest of snow if it was necessary.
As usual my mother was right. Once the police escorts arrived the sun sensed we were ready and chose to take its rightful place in the sky. Its rays shined so brightly that the prior rainstorm seemed like a figment of our imaginations.
The deacons and deaconesses took their positions in front holding the church's banner and both the Haitian and American flags. Behind them stood a Haitian marching band from Brooklyn dressed in pristine white uniforms and a large white pickup truck carrying several guitarists and a drummer.
Jenny, my girl since the days of colorful hair ribbons, and I decided to hold up the rear so that we could get a good view of the celebration.
Congregation members dressed in their Sunday's best and sensible flat shoes feverishly waved their Haitian flags as we made our journey through the city's streets. The further we walked the more the procession seemed to embrace the spirit. Apparently moved, the band's conductor, a handsome deep chocolate wiry man with microphone in hand, hopped onto the rear of the pickup truck and commenced to get the crowd crunked.
Men and women who once intercepted my notes during service and told me I was a fresh child when I asked how they knew my eyes were open during prayer if they were actually praying, lost all their inhibitions. The band caught the spirit and they began to play old celebration songs from back home. Sisters lifted their skirts a bit higher making it easier to dance and the brothers pumped their fists in the air as the music's tempo quickened. They looked more like revelers in Jacmel during carnaval or folks on Eastern Parkway during NY's West Indian Day Parade than participants in a church march.
A joyful chorus of 'HALLELUJAHS!' and 'AMENS!' filled the air once we reached our destination and the ribbon was ceremoniously cut. Several times I found myself in deep warm hugs and my cheeks moistened by damp kisses from those who still consider me 'the church's first baby'. Their eye's were misty from 22 year old memories of the living room of my step-father's old bachelor pad serving as their first worship space and how it soon became too small as more Haitians arrived in the city.
Eyes turned towards heaven and tears flowed freely as all the church's choirs sang a soul stirring rendition of Give Thanks. Pews filled quickly and those who couldn't find seats within the sanctuary instead stood in the aisles, outside on the church's steps and in the parking lot.
No one wanted to leave. They'd come much too far by faith to turn around.
As my mother prepared Sunday dinner, I peered out the kitchen window at the dauntingly stubborn gray sky and noted that my new suit and satin pumps wouldn't withstand the rain. She assured me that God knew what day it was and He would send the sun down on time. Always steadfast, my mother went back to humming as she lowered the fire under the brown rice and beans.
Word of the march reached far. Over two hundred congregation members and supporters stood under umbrellas in front of the former worship space, waiting for the march to commence. It seemed that I was the only person concerned with the weather because no one else bothered to look up and acknowledge the dark clouds. I guess they had waited far too long for this day and would march through even the heaviest of snow if it was necessary.
As usual my mother was right. Once the police escorts arrived the sun sensed we were ready and chose to take its rightful place in the sky. Its rays shined so brightly that the prior rainstorm seemed like a figment of our imaginations.
The deacons and deaconesses took their positions in front holding the church's banner and both the Haitian and American flags. Behind them stood a Haitian marching band from Brooklyn dressed in pristine white uniforms and a large white pickup truck carrying several guitarists and a drummer.
Jenny, my girl since the days of colorful hair ribbons, and I decided to hold up the rear so that we could get a good view of the celebration.
Congregation members dressed in their Sunday's best and sensible flat shoes feverishly waved their Haitian flags as we made our journey through the city's streets. The further we walked the more the procession seemed to embrace the spirit. Apparently moved, the band's conductor, a handsome deep chocolate wiry man with microphone in hand, hopped onto the rear of the pickup truck and commenced to get the crowd crunked.
Men and women who once intercepted my notes during service and told me I was a fresh child when I asked how they knew my eyes were open during prayer if they were actually praying, lost all their inhibitions. The band caught the spirit and they began to play old celebration songs from back home. Sisters lifted their skirts a bit higher making it easier to dance and the brothers pumped their fists in the air as the music's tempo quickened. They looked more like revelers in Jacmel during carnaval or folks on Eastern Parkway during NY's West Indian Day Parade than participants in a church march.
A joyful chorus of 'HALLELUJAHS!' and 'AMENS!' filled the air once we reached our destination and the ribbon was ceremoniously cut. Several times I found myself in deep warm hugs and my cheeks moistened by damp kisses from those who still consider me 'the church's first baby'. Their eye's were misty from 22 year old memories of the living room of my step-father's old bachelor pad serving as their first worship space and how it soon became too small as more Haitians arrived in the city.
Eyes turned towards heaven and tears flowed freely as all the church's choirs sang a soul stirring rendition of Give Thanks. Pews filled quickly and those who couldn't find seats within the sanctuary instead stood in the aisles, outside on the church's steps and in the parking lot.
No one wanted to leave. They'd come much too far by faith to turn around.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
an apology to the real good black men
Dear Black Men,
We as Black women have done you a great disservice.
There was a time when statistics had us panicking. We could be found lamenting on the pages of Newsweek and the couches of Ricki, Sally and Montel about how we couldn't find any desirable single Black men.
We complained that most of you were either some baby's daddy, locked up, jobless and/or without degrees. You heard us repeatedly declare that we were in active search of a good Black man amongst all the defaults . Our definition of this man was one with a clean criminal record, career, at least one degree, his own place, car and no kids. We wanted our equal male counterpart and felt that if we could finally find this elusive good Black man that our lives would finally be fulfilled.
A few of you saw this list and realized that you had every single quality that Black women, at the time, desperately desired. Your chest protruded a bit more and you stood a few inches taller because you understood that your degree, car, no baby momma drama and the bills in your pocket meant that you were top choice. With that knowledge you got your serious mack swagger on and I don't blame you.
Across the country Black women were sistergirl high-fiving because some of us had finally found ourselves the Black man we always wanted.
But unfortunately all that falsely glitters eventually begins to fade.
I've heard the countless sad tales of friends, family and associates who were devastated to discover that their good Black men were arrogant, cheaters, inconsiderate lovers, elistists unconcerned with the issues of our race, self-centered, dishonest, faithless and uninterested in Black women.
We created a list of what we thought we wanted instead of what we need.
We forgot that educated doesn't mean faithful. We forgot that no baby momma drama doesn't promise that problems won't exist. We forgot that a mortgage and car in the driveway can't guarantee morals. We forgot that money in the bank won't necessarily ensure happiness.
We overlooked the Black men with kids who are actually committed to being fathers and raising them. We ignored the brother who made mistakes in the past, paid his dues and is trying to right his wrongs. Our noses went up at the hard working blue collar Black man putting in long hours so that he can take care of his responsibilities.
I completely agree with having standards, there are certain attributes that we simply won't bend on. But perhaps some requirements on our lists need to be bumped down or revised.
Black women have made a mistake. To the true good Black men, I apologize.
You are loved for all that you are.
Sincerely,
A Black Woman
spiritual renewal
Looking for peace.
Thinking of fasting.
Let's see what happens.........
I admit that sometimes pride tries to hide my view
And even this gift that you gave me, I forget it’s for You
And all the many days and many ways Your grace I’ve abused
Still you were patient and Your love loved me through
But the wind still blows and the flower still grows and one thing is still true......
And even this gift that you gave me, I forget it’s for You
And all the many days and many ways Your grace I’ve abused
Still you were patient and Your love loved me through
But the wind still blows and the flower still grows and one thing is still true......
Without You life’s a wound that won’t heal
Without You, nothing in this world is for real
Without You, we're just actors on a stage
Like a child who's lost his way
Wouldn't be here today without You
Without You, we're just actors on a stage
Like a child who's lost his way
Wouldn't be here today without You
This World
Another child is born
Another race is won
Another dream is shattered
Another day has begun
This past weekend was spent hanging out in the dungeon with Kindred and the reclusive Back Bay Madame.
One of the many reasons why Kindred is... well... my kindred... is because she hates being confined, is always down for whatever and loves the sun as much as I do. So once we saw thin rays of light peeking through the two pinholes that the Madame has as windows, Kindred and I caught a serious case of cabin feve
r and needed to breakout. After a walk to Cambridge we tried to make it back in time to meet up with the Dutchess and Madame for a sexuality workshop in Brookline but that definitely wasn't happening. While I showered up Kindred hopped on the
computer to research what we could get into. She found info about an independent film festival that was going on in the SoWa neighborhood of the South End.We tried calling some folks in an attempt to up the melanin level of the audience but unfortunately no one came through. I truly wished they did because what we caught of the festival was incredible. The documentary "BALLOONHAT" was our favorite hands down.
This world is still afloat
No not in Noah's boat
We've only lost the vision
Of the stars we're meant to be
The film follows balloon artist, Addi Somekh and photographer, Charlie Eckert who are disheartened by our media's love for sensationalism.
Refusing to view the world as hopeless, they set out on a journey to prove that humankind needs joy to survive.What stands out in the documentary is not only the breathtaking images but also the beautifully inspiring tales of their travels.
Hopefully, the film does well and their second chance at a publishing deal works out.
Somehow the balloon hats show that at the humancore all we want to be is happy.
Another broken heart
Another lesson learnt
Another harvest eaten
Another night is gone
A new day's begun
Even your dreams they can be real
Another lesson learnt
Another harvest eaten
Another night is gone
A new day's begun
Even your dreams they can be real
Thursday, May 18, 2006
that good ol' new jack swing
Summer is soon approaching and concert season is around the corner.
So far Stephanie and Corinne are already occupying my time. Also the ladies are thinking about having a mother and daughter day to see Anita. I may add some testosterone to the mix by seeing Michael.
The last time I went to a concert at the one-time Fleet Pavilion, was four years ago to see Angie Stone, Gerald Levert and Luther Vandross. My friends and I were the youngest people in the audience but that didn't stop us from spending the night on our feet, singing along to Luther's classics. At the end of the show we left wanting to be his backup singers. Those ladies were fierce in their bright sequined gowns and undeniable vocal skills.
Saw old Jon B. and AZ Yet videos today and it made me wonder where all the "beggars" went. What happened to the brothers who used to croon about true love and how a good woman made them feel?
Where are the all male R & B groups with the seamless harmonies and temptation-esque sharp dance routines?
Instead, we're bombarded by oversexed Pretty Ricky asking your little sister to playhouse so they can eat (her) body out like lunch.
What the heck?
So far Stephanie and Corinne are already occupying my time. Also the ladies are thinking about having a mother and daughter day to see Anita. I may add some testosterone to the mix by seeing Michael.
The last time I went to a concert at the one-time Fleet Pavilion, was four years ago to see Angie Stone, Gerald Levert and Luther Vandross. My friends and I were the youngest people in the audience but that didn't stop us from spending the night on our feet, singing along to Luther's classics. At the end of the show we left wanting to be his backup singers. Those ladies were fierce in their bright sequined gowns and undeniable vocal skills.
Saw old Jon B. and AZ Yet videos today and it made me wonder where all the "beggars" went. What happened to the brothers who used to croon about true love and how a good woman made them feel?
Where are the all male R & B groups with the seamless harmonies and temptation-esque sharp dance routines?
Instead, we're bombarded by oversexed Pretty Ricky asking your little sister to playhouse so they can eat (her) body out like lunch.
What the heck?
damn, when it hurts so good
Maybe it's because the sun decided to come back.....
or the things he said....
or what she shared that inspired and made me think.....
Who knows. It doesn't matter.
Regardless of who, what and why, yesterday I ran.
I ran until my chest constricted, my thighs throbbed and sweat gathered right in that spot where my back curves.
I forgot how much I love running. I forgot how on those just right breezy sunny days J and I would have our running dates around the Charles, and compete to see whose legs could last the longest.
or the things he said....
or what she shared that inspired and made me think.....
Who knows. It doesn't matter.
Regardless of who, what and why, yesterday I ran.
I ran until my chest constricted, my thighs throbbed and sweat gathered right in that spot where my back curves.
I forgot how much I love running. I forgot how on those just right breezy sunny days J and I would have our running dates around the Charles, and compete to see whose legs could last the longest.
When I woke up early this morning with slight aches and sores, it brought back memories of how good and alive the hurt used to make me feel.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Her revolution will be recognized
Congradulations Sarah Jones! The best is yet to come.
-----------
Your revolution will not be me tossing my weave
And making me believe I'm some caviar eating ghetto
Mafia clown
Or me giving up my behind
Just so I can get signed
And maybe have somebody else write my rhymes
I'm Sarah Jones
Not Foxy Brown
You know I'm Sarah Jones
Not Foxy Brown
Your revolution makes me wonder
Where could we go
If we could drop the empty pursuit of props and the ego
We'd revolt back to our roots
Use a little common sense on a quest to make love
De la soul, no pretense, but
Your revolution will not be you flexing your little sex and status
To express what you feel
Your revolution will not happen between these thighs
Will not happen between these thighs
Will not be you shaking
And me, [sigh] faking between these thighs
Because the real revolution
That's right, I said the real revolution
You know, I'm talking about the revolution
When it comes,
It's gonna be real
It's gonna be real
It's gonna be real
When it finally comes
It's gonna be real
Your Revolution, Sarah Jones
If we could drop the empty pursuit of props and the ego
We'd revolt back to our roots
Use a little common sense on a quest to make love
De la soul, no pretense, but
Your revolution will not be you flexing your little sex and status
To express what you feel
Your revolution will not happen between these thighs
Will not happen between these thighs
Will not be you shaking
And me, [sigh] faking between these thighs
Because the real revolution
That's right, I said the real revolution
You know, I'm talking about the revolution
When it comes,
It's gonna be real
It's gonna be real
It's gonna be real
When it finally comes
It's gonna be real
Your Revolution, Sarah Jones
Thursday, May 11, 2006
this black seed was planted to grow...
I need to escape.I must go somewhere. Anywhere.
The entire world has officially lost it's mind and I ...maann, I just got to go.
Ever yearn to see the good but the bad keeps blocking your view? And do you ever sense that sometimes unfortunately inorder for situations to improve they must get 10 times worse?
There was a time when you could have called me Ms. Optimist. My glass was once half full.
Unfortunately my feelings run deep and the chaos of the world tends to weigh heavy on my heart. Due to all the wear and tear my glass now has an irreparable leak and all this craziness has clouded the clarity of its exterior.
To be honest, I'm not even too concerned for myself . It's my children I worry for.
How are they going to grow up in this?
I know, I know I'm only 22 and I don't have kids. But the fact remains that one day I will be a mother, so it's imperative that I now contemplate how and where I want to settle down and anchor my roots.
The United States is almost completely out of the question because when it comes to crazy, the USA is Public Enemy #1. Perhaps I should 'quit America' and head to St.Kitts like Randall Robinson.
I'm actively searching for fertile land y'all.
Land made to nurture my future strong, proud and culturally responsible Black seeds.
Any ideas?
----
From the time you were born, . . .
wherever that place may be, this beautiful black seed was
planted, planted to grow and be free . . .whether its bed of
soil was a city of cement and steel, coldhearted haven,
midwest middle of the road village site, big city bright
with glamour and hidden sights, a grit and grace
paradise, or a down home dirt field south of the border,
with the moon as the only streetlight.
This Black seed was planted to grow . .
this Black seed planted to feel the sunlight.
From the Time You Were Born, Charles McClain
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
wicked and evilous
these past few weeks have been interesting to say the least.my sister is right: black folks, especially west indians, love to be 'scandalized'. we are definitely entertaining storytellers. no matter how small each tale is told with grand hand movements, animated facial expressions and varying accents to approriately acknowledge all characters involved.
some of the best storytellers i know are my girls. our ladie's breakfasts/lunches/dinners always turn into a ladie's day or weekend because everyone always has several stories to share.
our tales can range from the hardships of running a business from home, finally satisfying a curiousity, preparing for married life, arguing an eviction notice to an electrifying late night rendevouz in a not so discrete location.
in one another's company we are able to momentarily shed our sometimes cumbersome strong black women's armor and allow the entirety of who we are to be laid bare. together we share our passions, fears, insecurities, questions and desires. what cements our bond is food and laughter, which always overflows with abundance when we come together.
great food and great laughs is what heals the heart and fills the soul.
this summer there's sure to be much eating, sharing, scandalizing, build
ing and adventures.
speaking of strong black women, i'm not too sure how i feel about this.
whenever someone who isn't black mentions black people i feel my ears perk up a bit and my back muscles tighten in prepartion of the possibilty of hearing something that may require me to duly check someone.
is it being sensitive or simply aware? can it be a combination of both and on somedays maybe more one than the other? i do admit there are some of us that draw the race card a little too quickly, while others are way too hesitant.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
you ever hear something that you're just not ready for? and once it hits your ears and registers, you really can't believe that you actually heard correctly?
that's how i feel when my friends and i get together. i swear the things that come out of their mouths is straight up and down unbelievable. whenever and wherever we gather there's sure to be theatrical hand gestures accompanied by quotable remarks. most of the time i'm either crying and/or holding my belly from laughing so hard.
i spent the afternoon with one of my girls that i haven't seen in awhile. a few of us pack into my girl's car and she tells us about how ,as of last night, she let go of her most recent trifling bed buddy. she says that the guy has been 'baby baby pleasing' all day trying to get her back but she will have none of it. so i'm sitting in the backseat listening to one of the funniest stories i've ever heard and attempting to recover from some of her smart remarks from earlier this afternoon, when she has the whole car in hysterics with this one:
"I finally told him to consider us like edible panties: you can get one good use out of it but try regurgitating that sh*t and it's just not the same."
so today i got some much needed legal advice with a side of good ol' humor.
laughter is a definite cure-all.
that's how i feel when my friends and i get together. i swear the things that come out of their mouths is straight up and down unbelievable. whenever and wherever we gather there's sure to be theatrical hand gestures accompanied by quotable remarks. most of the time i'm either crying and/or holding my belly from laughing so hard.
i spent the afternoon with one of my girls that i haven't seen in awhile. a few of us pack into my girl's car and she tells us about how ,as of last night, she let go of her most recent trifling bed buddy. she says that the guy has been 'baby baby pleasing' all day trying to get her back but she will have none of it. so i'm sitting in the backseat listening to one of the funniest stories i've ever heard and attempting to recover from some of her smart remarks from earlier this afternoon, when she has the whole car in hysterics with this one:
"I finally told him to consider us like edible panties: you can get one good use out of it but try regurgitating that sh*t and it's just not the same."
so today i got some much needed legal advice with a side of good ol' humor.
laughter is a definite cure-all.
Monday, April 24, 2006
first love, standing first in line
i went home this weekend and spent time with my boy b. i've known b since the 10th grade and it's been interesting watching my first love find his way towards becoming a man.
i would have never imagined being with him in high school but somehow it happened and it made sense. we fit. grown folks would often comment on how mature our love was and how happy we seemed. from administrators to teachers to students, everyone was interested in our relationship. to this day whenever i go home someone wants to know how b is doing and whether we're still together.
though our relationship was definitely mature in many aspects, we were still teenagers and we definitely had our dramas. we joke now that back then we were on some serious black dawson's creek sh*t. there were strong emotions, public displays of adolescent affection, out of control hormones and too many tearful hallway episodes to count.
there were good times and bad and i wouldn't go back to change a thing.
though our romantic feelings for one another have dissipated, our love has manifested itself into something comforting and genuine. i've been there for the females who came after me, giving some a thumbs down and rooting hard for others. i'm rooting for the woman he's with now and i pray for his overall happiness.
b and i have gone from teenage lovers to semi-adult friends attempting to find our niche in life.
in the may issue of essence there's an article about a woman who was invited to her ex's wedding. though she was unsure of attending she finally does and is happy with her decision. she finds closure in witnessing her old lover exchange vows with another woman and in the end understands why he wanted her there and why she went-- "because there is comfort in having people around who knew and loved you back then, and who can find a way to accept and celebrate the person you are becoming right now."
how true it is.
i would have never imagined being with him in high school but somehow it happened and it made sense. we fit. grown folks would often comment on how mature our love was and how happy we seemed. from administrators to teachers to students, everyone was interested in our relationship. to this day whenever i go home someone wants to know how b is doing and whether we're still together.
though our relationship was definitely mature in many aspects, we were still teenagers and we definitely had our dramas. we joke now that back then we were on some serious black dawson's creek sh*t. there were strong emotions, public displays of adolescent affection, out of control hormones and too many tearful hallway episodes to count.
there were good times and bad and i wouldn't go back to change a thing.
though our romantic feelings for one another have dissipated, our love has manifested itself into something comforting and genuine. i've been there for the females who came after me, giving some a thumbs down and rooting hard for others. i'm rooting for the woman he's with now and i pray for his overall happiness.
b and i have gone from teenage lovers to semi-adult friends attempting to find our niche in life.
in the may issue of essence there's an article about a woman who was invited to her ex's wedding. though she was unsure of attending she finally does and is happy with her decision. she finds closure in witnessing her old lover exchange vows with another woman and in the end understands why he wanted her there and why she went-- "because there is comfort in having people around who knew and loved you back then, and who can find a way to accept and celebrate the person you are becoming right now."
how true it is.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
just like a song in my heart......
a few days ago my beautiful best friend/sister sent me a wonderful package meant to lift my spirits and make me feel loved. in it was a mix cd with music from corinne bailey rae. it's been in constant rotation at my place and i'm hooked. she is definitely what's up.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
no one, and nothing goes unchanged
This past weekend was AMAZING! Aside from being oh so shamed by a 5 year old who wrote me a note to "STOP TALKING!"(HAHAHA!), there was a TON of reflecting, eating, sharing and laughing.
It's surreal the various yet to be experienced journeys that lay ahead for my friends and me. There are some of us that are taking our romantic relationships to the next level by cohabitating or tying the knot. Others who are applying for jobs in places they never thought they'd want to live. This is all exhilarating and scary. The things we say, the time we spend together, our feelings, our doubts, who we are .........everything now just means more real. Who knows what our future holds but we're all stepping out on faith in ourselves, each other and somebody bigger that in the end we'll be more than fine.
I'm making a lot of decisions nowadays and there's one in particular that I'm hoping my feelings are right about.
Ms.Nina Simone has it right. Everything must change.
Oh if you love fashion and helping out a good cause please hit up this up in support of Rosie's Place.
It's surreal the various yet to be experienced journeys that lay ahead for my friends and me. There are some of us that are taking our romantic relationships to the next level by cohabitating or tying the knot. Others who are applying for jobs in places they never thought they'd want to live. This is all exhilarating and scary. The things we say, the time we spend together, our feelings, our doubts, who we are .........everything now just means more real. Who knows what our future holds but we're all stepping out on faith in ourselves, each other and somebody bigger that in the end we'll be more than fine.
I'm making a lot of decisions nowadays and there's one in particular that I'm hoping my feelings are right about.
Ms.Nina Simone has it right. Everything must change.
Oh if you love fashion and helping out a good cause please hit up this up in support of Rosie's Place.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
You'd think that I had a huge gaping bloody wound with my heart hanging out of it by the way men have been hovering around me like starving vultures. It's actually somewhat funny because a lot of these guys who have approached me recently do have this crazed hungry look on their face as if they're looking for a meal and I'm their favorite item on the menu. HAHAHA!
What kills me is that a few of them are guys that I have already told that I'm not interested. I mean damn! I know that my heart is hurting but I'm definitely not suffering from head wounds so my memory is fine. LOL! I can't front I have definitely been entertained. I guess I can't knock a few fellas for trying. It's been feeling good to smile.
I saw this yesterday and I'm starting not to be surprised anymore.
What kills me is that a few of them are guys that I have already told that I'm not interested. I mean damn! I know that my heart is hurting but I'm definitely not suffering from head wounds so my memory is fine. LOL! I can't front I have definitely been entertained. I guess I can't knock a few fellas for trying. It's been feeling good to smile.
I saw this yesterday and I'm starting not to be surprised anymore.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Thanks to all those that reached out after my last post. I know as E said the entry was real cryptic but I truly appreciate all the love. It's definitely what made this past week somewhat bearable. It started off shaky and ended pretty well. Don't get me wrong- I'm still hurting but the tears have been gone since last Wednesday and sleeping has become a little easier. I've been productive and spent a lot of time with friends.
One of my friends, who has no idea what's been going on lately, asked me early last week to keep my schedule open Friday around 2. I wasn't allowed to ask any question. All I had to do was be ready by2 o'clock sharp. We ended up at a day spa and wellness center at some random shopping plaza in Woburn
This weekend I visited a girlfriend and her 1 month old son. It's been awhile since I've spent time in an actual home and not just an apartment full of random folks. Her mom made some damn good Haitian food and we spent the afternoon admiring the baby and talking. My girl's father joined us and we were all immersed in a 2 hour conversation onHaiti
He expressed to us that Haiti Africa wasn't an option. So they were forced to make a home in the land of their oppressors.
It's like being kidnapped from your parent’s home and forced live and work at someone else’s house. One day shit gets real and you decide to be rid of your captors. You're unsure how to return home so you're forced to stay where you are and start anew. How can you genuinely care and upkeep this new home when there are memories of what occurred there? That is why he believes that Haitians misuse the land and can only care about what it can do for them.
He said that if there were two piles, one consisting of visas ,to get out, and guns , to kill all the wrongdoers on the island, that the pile of visas would disappear first and those who are left will pick up the guns.
No one truly wants to stay.
One of my friends, who has no idea what's been going on lately, asked me early last week to keep my schedule open Friday around 2. I wasn't allowed to ask any question. All I had to do was be ready by
This weekend I visited a girlfriend and her 1 month old son. It's been awhile since I've spent time in an actual home and not just an apartment full of random folks. Her mom made some damn good Haitian food and we spent the afternoon admiring the baby and talking. My girl's father joined us and we were all immersed in a 2 hour conversation on
He expressed to us that Haiti
It's like being kidnapped from your parent’s home and forced live and work at someone else’s house. One day shit gets real and you decide to be rid of your captors. You're unsure how to return home so you're forced to stay where you are and start anew. How can you genuinely care and upkeep this new home when there are memories of what occurred there? That is why he believes that Haitians misuse the land and can only care about what it can do for them.
He said that if there were two piles, one consisting of visas ,to get out, and guns , to kill all the wrongdoers on the island, that the pile of visas would disappear first and those who are left will pick up the guns.
No one truly wants to stay.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
a labor of love....
This Monday I was honored by a campus group called Brothers About Change with a Women of Distinction Ethel Payne Award of Excellence in Journalism.
While I was visiting my sister in Durham I recieved a message from the org's president asking me to get at him about the ceremony. Being that I helped with nominations the year before I assumed he was calling to see who I had in mind for this year's awards. When I called him back he informed me that I in fact was one of the women being honored. My honest and exact words to him were 'Why?! I don't do sh*t.' I said that not due to false humility but because I feel that I don't do much and always wish to do more.
Those who aren't close friends wouldn't believe this but,at times, I am a very shy person. Compliments and recognition aren't things that I'm comfortable with. I don't do things for the praise of others but simply because I figure if I didn't who will?
Though they admire my dedication people have often asked me why I've sacrificed many nights of sleep and chill time to produce a publication that some at the university consider irrelevant. And there have been many nights sitting in front of the computer when I thought I may be crazy and questioned my purpose. But I've realized early that there is a struggle out there and regardless how much Northeastern wishes to separate itself from the outside world, the university is a microcosim of the society which surrounds it. I may not be able to deliver thought provoking speeches or mobilize large groups to protest but writing is my passion, it is my small offering towards progress.
I remember earlier this semester I wanted to organize a small roundtable discussion with current and past members of the Onyx. I sent out an evite and recieved a response from a woman who regretfully couldn't make it since she now lives overseas. She shared with me how happy she is to hear that the Onyx is striving and told me that though working on the publication isn't always easy it's a labor of love that keeps it going.
In their short exsistance Brothers About Change has come a loooooong way. BAC is an organizatioin of Black and Latino men at Northeastern who created the Women of Distinction Award inorder to combact the negative and onesided images of Black and Latino women in the media. They use the award to recognize women at NU who strive daily to postively shape and impact those among them. I remember the obstacles their former president Johnathan went through inorder to make his vision of the award ceremony become a reality. Now he has graduated, works in the financial aid office and serves as BAC's faculty advisor.
He opened up Monday's ceremony with a speech on the 8 characteristics that his woman of distinction is comprised of. Each characteristic matched up to past and current honorees and he gave me the gift of creativity. The most touching moment was when Major, a student at Berklee College, sang a heart melting rendition of You Are So Beautiful. Though the songs lyrics are simple Major's blessed vocals made them resonate in my heart. I hope someone recorded it.
In Their Eyes Were Watching God Zora Neale Hurtson described women "as the mules of society" and it's refreshing to see a group of young men unapologetically recognize the tireless work of Black and Latino women. Not only was I touched to be the only student this year to recieve the award but to also be in the company of Alejandra Lombardo who is the acting Director of the Lation Student Cultural Center and especially Dean Lula Petty-Edwards of the African-American Institute.
I actually spent much of Monday afternoon interviewing Dean Petty for an article and she's always dropping gems of knowledge. She is definitely a force and to stand beside her as a fellow woman of distinction, I will do my all to uphold that title.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
I swear my life changes every second. When I finally get in front of a computer to update this thing so many things have already happened and feelings felt that sometimes I wonder what's the point of blogging at all. .... But no worries: I love to share and I LOVE to write so I eventually don't stay gone for too long.
Last Wednesday and Thursday I attended a youth worker's conference and I've been on a high ever since. I've attended plenty of conferences and far too many have dry impersonal icebreakers and for some reason put me in an antisocial place. But on Thursday I deviated from a workshop that was chosen for me and found myself joining Telling Our Stories which was facilitated by an amazing woman named Justice.
We started the workshop by forming a circle, saying our names and organization and sharing with the group the last time we wrote in our journals. Some shared simply the time of their last journal writing and others went into what they wrote about. What this icebreaker did was immediately create the sense of a safe community-- a place where our feelings and insights could be shared without fear and hesitation. One man from City Year shared that the last time he wrote in his journal he thought about his grandfather and his unrelenting commitment to service. At that moment an intense sense of self and purpose penetrated me. All my life I have always felt the need to help others and simply hearing the guy from City Year express his commitment out loud caused mine to become more real.
Justice asked us all to pick one ancestor card, internalize the word written on the front of it and share why we thought out of all the cards on the table we ended up with the ones in our hands. Many people in the circle were tripped out by the word the word they chose. One older woman had the word courage and shared with us that she always thought of herself as a courageous person because where she grew up being afraid and unsure wasn't an option. Receiving the word courage shook her up because she's in a place in her life right now where she is afraid and is facing various issues that she's uncertain she can rise above.
My word was serenity- something that I wish to truly reach one day.
Taped to the various walls of the room were large sheets of paper with the words: love, spirituality, power and I think peace. Justice asked everyone to gravitate towards the word that means something to them and to collectively create a poem. Due to various things going on in my life right now I was drawn to love. My group decided to simply write down whatever came to mind when we thought of love. In the end we created a free flowing poem that was perfection. One woman ended the poem by stating that "it's all we need" and spontaneously started to sing Mary J's Love is All We Need. We were all shocked to see this white teacher in her mid to late forties belting out word for word one of the Queen of R&B's classics.
I will be forever affected by that workshop and the people I met that day. It's rare to get a group of folks to step outside their comfort zones and that day we connected far beyond being youth workers and more as people.
Last Wednesday and Thursday I attended a youth worker's conference and I've been on a high ever since. I've attended plenty of conferences and far too many have dry impersonal icebreakers and for some reason put me in an antisocial place. But on Thursday I deviated from a workshop that was chosen for me and found myself joining Telling Our Stories which was facilitated by an amazing woman named Justice.
We started the workshop by forming a circle, saying our names and organization and sharing with the group the last time we wrote in our journals. Some shared simply the time of their last journal writing and others went into what they wrote about. What this icebreaker did was immediately create the sense of a safe community-- a place where our feelings and insights could be shared without fear and hesitation. One man from City Year shared that the last time he wrote in his journal he thought about his grandfather and his unrelenting commitment to service. At that moment an intense sense of self and purpose penetrated me. All my life I have always felt the need to help others and simply hearing the guy from City Year express his commitment out loud caused mine to become more real.
Justice asked us all to pick one ancestor card, internalize the word written on the front of it and share why we thought out of all the cards on the table we ended up with the ones in our hands. Many people in the circle were tripped out by the word the word they chose. One older woman had the word courage and shared with us that she always thought of herself as a courageous person because where she grew up being afraid and unsure wasn't an option. Receiving the word courage shook her up because she's in a place in her life right now where she is afraid and is facing various issues that she's uncertain she can rise above.
My word was serenity- something that I wish to truly reach one day.
Taped to the various walls of the room were large sheets of paper with the words: love, spirituality, power and I think peace. Justice asked everyone to gravitate towards the word that means something to them and to collectively create a poem. Due to various things going on in my life right now I was drawn to love. My group decided to simply write down whatever came to mind when we thought of love. In the end we created a free flowing poem that was perfection. One woman ended the poem by stating that "it's all we need" and spontaneously started to sing Mary J's Love is All We Need. We were all shocked to see this white teacher in her mid to late forties belting out word for word one of the Queen of R&B's classics.
I will be forever affected by that workshop and the people I met that day. It's rare to get a group of folks to step outside their comfort zones and that day we connected far beyond being youth workers and more as people.
Friday, February 24, 2006
This time tomorrow I'll be on a plane to Durham, North Carolina to see my younger sis and best friend star as the leading role in a Duke University production. I know that in true sister fashion we're going to have so much fun it'll be illegal.
I have tons to post about but no time. When I get back I'll be sure to get on this blogging thing.
I have tons to post about but no time. When I get back I'll be sure to get on this blogging thing.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
I still don't know when Black.White will air but on tomorrow's episode of Oprah both familes will be guests. I don't watch Oprah religously but I will try my best to catch this episode.
Monday, February 13, 2006
my 4 things
Folks are tagging all crazy so I guess I'll go along with it:
Four jobs I've had:
1. Intern at Koch Records ( one of the best and most profitable summers in my life)
2. Assistant Director for Westchester Broadway Theatre
3. Project Assistant for City Wide Dialogues on Boston's Ethnic and Racial Diversity
4. Retail - Armani Exchange, the GAP, United Colors and Grand Opening!
Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Brown Sugar
2. Steel Magnolias
3. Bronx Tale
4. City of God
Four Places I have lived:
1. Boston, MA ( Hyde Park and Jamaica Plain)
2. White Plains,NY
3. Irvington, NY
4. Brooklyn, NY (whenever my mother was pregnant my dad would haul us to my Aunt Rita's house)
Four Shows I love:
1. Quantum Leap
2. Different World
3. Living Single
4. NY Undercover
Four highly-touted TV shows I detest ( I don't necessarily detest any show but there are some I don't watch):
1. Seinfeld
2. Friends
3. most of the shows on BET ( I prefer TV One)
4.
Four books I'd recommend to anyone, anytime:
1. Jubilee -- Margaret Walker
2. Song of Solomon-- Toni Morrison
3. What Looks Like Crazy -- Pearl Cleage
4. A Gathering of Old Men -- Ernest J. Gaines
Four places I have vacationed:
1. Spain
2. Virginia
3. California
4. Florida
Four of my favorite dishes:
1. BREAKFAST! -- I LOVE breakfast! eggs, home fries, grits, beef or vegeterain sausage links or patties, pancakes with strawberries or blueberries and a TALL cold glass of orange juice
2. Jerk chicken, rice and peas, sweet plantains and cabbage
3. Shrimp Pad Thai
4. My mom's spicy conch and brown rice. Actually my mom's anything is my favorite.
Four sites I visit daily:
1. Yahoo
2. Other people's blogs
3. Google
4. Dictionary.com
Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Home with the family
2. NY period
3. Ghana
4. Visiting my girl in Costa Rica
Four jobs I've had:
1. Intern at Koch Records ( one of the best and most profitable summers in my life)
2. Assistant Director for Westchester Broadway Theatre
3. Project Assistant for City Wide Dialogues on Boston's Ethnic and Racial Diversity
4. Retail - Armani Exchange, the GAP, United Colors and Grand Opening!
Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Brown Sugar
2. Steel Magnolias
3. Bronx Tale
4. City of God
Four Places I have lived:
1. Boston, MA ( Hyde Park and Jamaica Plain)
2. White Plains,NY
3. Irvington, NY
4. Brooklyn, NY (whenever my mother was pregnant my dad would haul us to my Aunt Rita's house)
Four Shows I love:
1. Quantum Leap
2. Different World
3. Living Single
4. NY Undercover
Four highly-touted TV shows I detest ( I don't necessarily detest any show but there are some I don't watch):
1. Seinfeld
2. Friends
3. most of the shows on BET ( I prefer TV One)
4.
Four books I'd recommend to anyone, anytime:
1. Jubilee -- Margaret Walker
2. Song of Solomon-- Toni Morrison
3. What Looks Like Crazy -- Pearl Cleage
4. A Gathering of Old Men -- Ernest J. Gaines
Four places I have vacationed:
1. Spain
2. Virginia
3. California
4. Florida
Four of my favorite dishes:
1. BREAKFAST! -- I LOVE breakfast! eggs, home fries, grits, beef or vegeterain sausage links or patties, pancakes with strawberries or blueberries and a TALL cold glass of orange juice
2. Jerk chicken, rice and peas, sweet plantains and cabbage
3. Shrimp Pad Thai
4. My mom's spicy conch and brown rice. Actually my mom's anything is my favorite.
Four sites I visit daily:
1. Yahoo
2. Other people's blogs
3. Google
4. Dictionary.com
Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Home with the family
2. NY period
3. Ghana
4. Visiting my girl in Costa Rica
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
this, that, and the third
Many new developements in my life. Things are getting realer then real right now. And though there are many changes I somehow feel an overwhelming sense of calm. I have been so blessed and I'm learning to let it go and let God. Going through a spiritual renewal right now guys and it's and interesting journey........
There's a lot going on in the world that's catching my attention right now.
When I saw the commerical for this I was on it. In this unprecedented four-part PBS series, African-American Lives, explores how many of us are unaware of the stories of our individual ancestors. Host and narrator Henry Louis Gates, Jr. helps his guests , which includes Quincy Jones, Oprah Winfrey, Whoopi Goldberg, Chris Tucker, and Bishop T.D. Jakes, trace their roots and history. Call me emotional but seeing the commercial caused prideful tears to swell up in my eyes. I'm going to do all I can to catch it.
Another tv show that I'm looking forwa
rd to seeing everyone's reaction 
to is Black. White. which is an upcoming originial series on FX Networks with Ice Cube as an Executive Producer. The premise is that a black family and white family trade races and are able to "really" experience how the other lives. I haven't wrapped my feelings around this one quite yet but what I heard last fall about it, and I already suspected, is that the white family are the ones who have the hardest time with their experience and the black family felt as if they didn't learn anything new. This should be interesting ...to say the least. Once it airs be sure to stay tuned I'm definitely going to have a lot to say on it.
I love BRAVO's Inside the Actor's Studio and I love Dave Chappelle. So when I heard that Dave would be on the show to dispell the rumors I was more than happy. Check out the video clips Dave definitely drops some gems of knowledge. It's scheduled to air Sunday, February 12 8:00 PM and again Sunday, March 5 8:00 PM. Dave's also on Oprah this Friday.
Coretta Scott King is one of our ancestors now and her passing hit me hard because during my research project for Northeastern's online exhibit I discovered that the university honored Mrs.King with an honorary degree during the height of the university's racial conflict. I was also deeply effected because slowly but surely our leaders are aging. As I get older I wonder who among us will pick up the torch.
I'm definitely going to catch my girl Sanaa's Something New. I support all of
her projects and feel that she's one of the best actresses in the industry...black or white. period. Word on the street is that a lot of brothas love Sanaa but definitely don't have love for her character falling for a white man. Something New is another topic I haven't quite wrapped my feelings around yet. I'm going to save all comments and opinions till after I see it this Friday.
I signed up for this and I'm hoping that I get picked to attend. Boston in need of a serious intervention immediately.
Mr.West being Mr. West.
This is basically biting off of this and this. Tsk..tsk..tsk.
Question: Am I a trader if my darling is rooting for the Seahawks and I have a feeling that the Steelers will win on Sunday? Just asking.....oh and for the two of you who are faithful to this blog--lol-- Mr.Man is currently Mr. My Boyfriend.
There's a lot going on in the world that's catching my attention right now.
When I saw the commerical for this I was on it. In this unprecedented four-part PBS series, African-American Lives, explores how many of us are unaware of the stories of our individual ancestors. Host and narrator Henry Louis Gates, Jr. helps his guests , which includes Quincy Jones, Oprah Winfrey, Whoopi Goldberg, Chris Tucker, and Bishop T.D. Jakes, trace their roots and history. Call me emotional but seeing the commercial caused prideful tears to swell up in my eyes. I'm going to do all I can to catch it.
Another tv show that I'm looking forwa
rd to seeing everyone's reaction 
to is Black. White. which is an upcoming originial series on FX Networks with Ice Cube as an Executive Producer. The premise is that a black family and white family trade races and are able to "really" experience how the other lives. I haven't wrapped my feelings around this one quite yet but what I heard last fall about it, and I already suspected, is that the white family are the ones who have the hardest time with their experience and the black family felt as if they didn't learn anything new. This should be interesting ...to say the least. Once it airs be sure to stay tuned I'm definitely going to have a lot to say on it.I love BRAVO's Inside the Actor's Studio and I love Dave Chappelle. So when I heard that Dave would be on the show to dispell the rumors I was more than happy. Check out the video clips Dave definitely drops some gems of knowledge. It's scheduled to air Sunday, February 12 8:00 PM and again Sunday, March 5 8:00 PM. Dave's also on Oprah this Friday.
Coretta Scott King is one of our ancestors now and her passing hit me hard because during my research project for Northeastern's online exhibit I discovered that the university honored Mrs.King with an honorary degree during the height of the university's racial conflict. I was also deeply effected because slowly but surely our leaders are aging. As I get older I wonder who among us will pick up the torch.I'm definitely going to catch my girl Sanaa's Something New. I support all of
her projects and feel that she's one of the best actresses in the industry...black or white. period. Word on the street is that a lot of brothas love Sanaa but definitely don't have love for her character falling for a white man. Something New is another topic I haven't quite wrapped my feelings around yet. I'm going to save all comments and opinions till after I see it this Friday.I signed up for this and I'm hoping that I get picked to attend. Boston in need of a serious intervention immediately.
Mr.West being Mr. West.
This is basically biting off of this and this. Tsk..tsk..tsk.
Question: Am I a trader if my darling is rooting for the Seahawks and I have a feeling that the Steelers will win on Sunday? Just asking.....oh and for the two of you who are faithful to this blog--lol-- Mr.Man is currently Mr. My Boyfriend.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Let's talk about....
Everyone is talking about sex. Sex seems to be the popular topic of choice.
I was beside myself when my 16 year old sister told me she was interested in sleeping with her boyfriend. I know that she's in almost all advance placement classes, president of her class for three years, in orchestra and holding down a part time job but I still couldn't imagine my baby...my little Shirlgirl being intimate with her barely 17 year old boyfriend or anyone. period. But I knew that she told me because I'm the oldest and she respects my feelings. So I told her not to make any decisions until we could talk face to face. The next weekend my second oldest sister came up from Durham,NC and Shirlgirl traveled from New York so that we could meet up in Boston and have a uncensored sister's heart to heart. I wanted to tell her things that she couldn't learn in health class or read in the pages of Cosmopolitan. We talked about it again during Christmas break. And though I didn't "forbid" her, I let her know that it never hurts to wait. I'm thankful that her boyfriend is the sweetest 16 year old I've ever met and agrees that waiting is a good idea. So for now the two horny teenagers are going to hold it down and keep it in their pants. I don't know how long this waiting will last but I hope that regardless what she decides Shirlgirl will always feel that I'll be there for her.
Once again lets talk about sex........
New Year's day I went along with one my girls to our friend's house who disappeared on us on new year's eve. So I went to her apartment hoping to find out what she could of possibly gotten into to have her gone that night. Our girl told us how she met up with a guy she met a few months ago. On paper this brother sounds marvelous: he's employed (forgot where but it I remember the name sounding real important), he's owns a business and models on the side, has a car and is in the process of buying a condo. My girl was pysched to get up with him because they ran into each other again a few weeks ago and the chemistry was intesnse.
Long story very short they ended up back at his place on new year's eve and it was a disappointment. He was an inconsiderate lover and basically came up short. My girl tried to make the best of a bad situation but it just wasn't happening. She wouldn't have cared so much if he apologized or acknowledged his shortcomings but this guy basically saw himself as a well endowed Don Juan who laid it down right. As she told us the story I truly felt for her. I knew how badly she wanted to hook up with someone since she was leaving the country to teach abroad for several months.
I let her know that there were pretty clear signs that he probably wouldn't be a good lover:
I was beside myself when my 16 year old sister told me she was interested in sleeping with her boyfriend. I know that she's in almost all advance placement classes, president of her class for three years, in orchestra and holding down a part time job but I still couldn't imagine my baby...my little Shirlgirl being intimate with her barely 17 year old boyfriend or anyone. period. But I knew that she told me because I'm the oldest and she respects my feelings. So I told her not to make any decisions until we could talk face to face. The next weekend my second oldest sister came up from Durham,NC and Shirlgirl traveled from New York so that we could meet up in Boston and have a uncensored sister's heart to heart. I wanted to tell her things that she couldn't learn in health class or read in the pages of Cosmopolitan. We talked about it again during Christmas break. And though I didn't "forbid" her, I let her know that it never hurts to wait. I'm thankful that her boyfriend is the sweetest 16 year old I've ever met and agrees that waiting is a good idea. So for now the two horny teenagers are going to hold it down and keep it in their pants. I don't know how long this waiting will last but I hope that regardless what she decides Shirlgirl will always feel that I'll be there for her.
Once again lets talk about sex........
New Year's day I went along with one my girls to our friend's house who disappeared on us on new year's eve. So I went to her apartment hoping to find out what she could of possibly gotten into to have her gone that night. Our girl told us how she met up with a guy she met a few months ago. On paper this brother sounds marvelous: he's employed (forgot where but it I remember the name sounding real important), he's owns a business and models on the side, has a car and is in the process of buying a condo. My girl was pysched to get up with him because they ran into each other again a few weeks ago and the chemistry was intesnse.
Long story very short they ended up back at his place on new year's eve and it was a disappointment. He was an inconsiderate lover and basically came up short. My girl tried to make the best of a bad situation but it just wasn't happening. She wouldn't have cared so much if he apologized or acknowledged his shortcomings but this guy basically saw himself as a well endowed Don Juan who laid it down right. As she told us the story I truly felt for her. I knew how badly she wanted to hook up with someone since she was leaving the country to teach abroad for several months.
I let her know that there were pretty clear signs that he probably wouldn't be a good lover:
- He continuously talked about himself. He never was curious about her. This basically shows that as lover he'd be inconsiderate, only concerned with is needs and lacks communication which is extremely important in a satisfying sexual experience.
- It's cool to have self esteem but this guy was gassed. Several times he referred to his material assets and how much women sweat him. I'm sticking to my theory that humble men make some of the best lovers. A man who's confidant but still feels that he can improve in certain areas usually is attentive and eager to please.
Sitting there I realized that if you're having sex how important satisfying sex really is. Great sex can put a little pep in your step and have you floating around on cloud 9. Bad sex on the other hand can cause you to become moody and dead a relationship before it even has a chance to start.
Speaking of sex, senior year is when you learn about who's been creeping with who, the girlfriend/boyfriend who had no idea they've been cheated on and the hearts that have been broken in the process. Perhaps I spend too much time in my own world or just don't care too much for other people's business but I had no idea how crazy things are here. But I guess when you live and work somewhere that eventually some playing goes down.
The connections on campus are so ridiculous that it's almost incestuous.I am SO thankful that out of the 5 years I've been here that I've never dated and/or been intimate with anyone at this school except for Mr. Man (who I'm starting to feel bad that I call him tha since our relationship is getting serious). If a new STD is discovered on this campus at least I won't be on line at the University's clinic waiting for a vaccine.
I have no problems with sexual freedom and I respect men and women who are honest about what they want. But all this sexing without protection makes no sense to me. While in college I've heard far too many stories of unexpected aborted pregnancies and the passing of STDs. I know the saying "we're just young, dumb and full of cum". okay. And "sometimes you get caught up in the moment". fine. But there should be a point when taking avoidable risks with your body is no longer acceptable. And hopefully that point doesn't come in the waiting room while you're praying that you aren't and hoping that you don't.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
I recently went to the doctor's to start the year off right and make sure everything is in tip top shape. Taking care of yourself is a great feeling. I figure if I make it a habit now to stay on top of all dental, eye, and physical exams that it will possibly spare me a lot of complicatons as I age.
I was a little uncomfortable during my physical because my usual doctor no longer works there so now I have to get used to a completely new one. I liked Dr. Arnold a lot because no matter how backed up with appointments she was you could never tell. She was always sweet and seemed sincerely concerned with everything, not just my health but also my school work and personal life. While she would check my blood pressure and heart rate we'd discuss the books we were reading and current events. We'd even continue chatting like two long time girlfriends while she checked my southern region. This new doctor is aight . There's just something awkard about her. Since she just started I'll chalk up her jitters to being new.
At the end of my appointment I had some blood work done and started chit chatting with the nurse in the lab. She was a middle aged black woman who seemed to be feeling the weight of her long day. I noticed that as when she stuck my arm with the needle that her touch was that gentle. Sitting there my mind began to wonder how she probably was when she first started. Most likely she started out wanting to be a nurse due to the genuine desire to help others and she probably handled her first patient with great care as if they were fragile. I guess after a long day and years of performing the same ol' job that everyone's arm looks the same. After awhile it's all a mindless routine done to pays the bills. Though my arm was sore I felt a little sad for her. Call me a dreamer, optimisitic, or just blame young and dumb but I want the career I end up with to fufill me. I want my work to be satisfying and to be secure enough that if I tire of one job that other options are still available.
I was a little uncomfortable during my physical because my usual doctor no longer works there so now I have to get used to a completely new one. I liked Dr. Arnold a lot because no matter how backed up with appointments she was you could never tell. She was always sweet and seemed sincerely concerned with everything, not just my health but also my school work and personal life. While she would check my blood pressure and heart rate we'd discuss the books we were reading and current events. We'd even continue chatting like two long time girlfriends while she checked my southern region. This new doctor is aight . There's just something awkard about her. Since she just started I'll chalk up her jitters to being new.
At the end of my appointment I had some blood work done and started chit chatting with the nurse in the lab. She was a middle aged black woman who seemed to be feeling the weight of her long day. I noticed that as when she stuck my arm with the needle that her touch was that gentle. Sitting there my mind began to wonder how she probably was when she first started. Most likely she started out wanting to be a nurse due to the genuine desire to help others and she probably handled her first patient with great care as if they were fragile. I guess after a long day and years of performing the same ol' job that everyone's arm looks the same. After awhile it's all a mindless routine done to pays the bills. Though my arm was sore I felt a little sad for her. Call me a dreamer, optimisitic, or just blame young and dumb but I want the career I end up with to fufill me. I want my work to be satisfying and to be secure enough that if I tire of one job that other options are still available.
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