Get it Right

The social network post that started it all…

 

My face at work as I hear police being called for a large unruly crowd b/c "some shoes came out today" and somebody done got arrested. We still doing all that for Js? I hope Jordan gon bail y'all out. Oh wait. He don't care that's why his shoes keep going up in price

So apparently that post didn’t sit well with some folks who called me out for “judging” others. First off, one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is for someone to go out of their way to zero in on your page all to be a negative dick. You don’t like what I posted so ummm why are you on this page? How many users are there online? You can’t find one person’s post you actually agree with?

Ok. Now back to the original post at hand. Now apparently I was being judgmental for not feeling that police should be called for an unruly crowd of people wanting to rock the newest pair of Js.

At first, I thought it was some white lady afraid of black people and the sight of a bunch of black people outside a store in a huge crowd was all too much for her pale little heart to cope with.

 But no, it was the store manager calling.

 Now wait a minute folks, Jordan has been dropping his $150+ shoes damn near every weekend for how long? And how many stories have we heard of fights breaking out, people getting robbed, killed all over some damn shoes?

Maybe it’s time that the black community starts judging its people. We need to start holding each other accountable and believing in one another. Don’t say well “they don’t know any better.” That’s a lame sorry excuse that doesn’t even work for children when they reach a certain age.

 

We should know and be better.

But as long as we claim to not judge or stay screaming “only God can judge me,” then we will forever be behind.

Why is it okay to be arrested all in the name of some 23s? I’ll admit I used to be out there with the masses, huddled up in the winter and baking in the summer just so I could say “I got them Js today.”

But then I got wiser and I also learned what it was like to have to pay bills. All of sudden spending a buck fifty on some shoes didn’t seem all that appealing – not when rent is due – not when I gotta go buy some groceries.

So my Facebook dissenter proceeded to call me an Uncle Tom and claim I didn’t like being black all because I’m calling my people out for acting a fool outside the shoe store.

So let’s get this straight (as if I really need to) I love my people – which is why I’m even in the news business. I’m tired of our young black men (and women now too) being posted on TV for the most trivial things. A mother who left her kids in the car for 20 minutes while she went in to check on a client of hers is not worth the 20 seconds of air time.

But a shooting right outside of a youth club is worth the air time. And my hopes are that while someone at home is watching we begin to hold each other accountable.

Why do these men constantly think it’s okay to let bullets fly within feet of an innocent bystander?

Maybe it’s because no one was judging when that would-be trigger man was doing something deemed minor years before he picked up the gun…Maybe people were giving excuses on how he “didn’t know any better.”

I’m not condemning anyone from going to get Jordan’s on a Saturday morning. If you can afford it—then more power to you. In fact, I’m somewhat envious of you because I can’t.

But let’s get it right; being able to afford some $150+ shoes means you can also afford your rent, food, utilities, car payments, daycare expenses and any other life essential as well.

So to my Facebook dissenter, you are mistaken.

I love my people that much that I will judge and I will call some shit out if I don’t like it.

Not because I think I’m any better than the next, but because I know that we as a people should be doing better and we will do better.

P.S. It took everything in me not to go in, but as I said we can do better. So I refrained myself as much as I possibly could. And just to show how polished I am, I decided not to name this guy, see below.

 

 

Excuse me while I publicly mourn...

Me & My Grandma circa mid 90s

It’s only been a week since we laid my grandma to rest… and it still seems unreal. I keep imagining that she’s still at the nursing home – just unable to call me up like she would do on the regular.

But the funeral was very real – the crowd who came out to celebrate her was very real. You know how you go to a funeral and there are all these nice, flowery epithets to describe that person and deep down inside you’re saying to yourself “yeah right.”

This was not the case for my grandma. Every kind word and thoughtful memory shared of her was true. She was the classic grandmother figure. Sweet, thoughtful and caring.

 And I honestly miss her. When I saw the two missed calls from my Mama in the middle of the day – I knew what it was but I wanted to believe it was something else. I still wish it was for something else. Maybe Ma was calling because she had forgot her lunch for the day and really needed me to bring her something – or maybe she couldn’t remember if she had locked her door and wanted me to check. I wish her calls had been simple things like that.

But my heart broke when she told me Grandma was gone. And even in the midst of her own heartbreak, my Mama’s first words to me were “Are you okay?” I had to lie and get off the phone. I didn’t want her to hear me crying when I should have been asking her if she was okay.

But she wasn’t. In my short time on this earth, I’ve seen my Mama cry all of two times in my life – when I went off to college and at the funeral. In the days leading up to the funeral, I didn’t see her cry. Her voice would quiver from time to time, but she didn’t shed a tear.

When we first went into my Grandma house after she had died, my Mama still did not cry but yet when I hit the threshold I wanted to bawl but kept it in. I cried in the driveway though.

But at the funeral I somehow managed to hold my composure. A part of me saw how normal Grandma looked and felt everything was okay or at least would be. For the last nine months of her life, she was at a nursing home she clearly did not like. Grandma wanted to go home and whether that meant her Bond Hill home or a heavenly residence I’m still not sure.

What I do know is that she’s is definitely not somewhere she no longer wants to be.

 And that’s the only way I’m able to get by. Maybe I’m being dramatic but the relationship I had with my Grandma was like no other. In her healthier days, I literally saw or spoke to her nearly everyday.

A note of condolence from a friend made it real simple for me – cherish the moments I did have with my Grandma because not everyone is as blessed as I am to have had such moments.

 

My Grandma lived long and saw a lot.

 

I can still distinctly hear her voice and remember what she sounds like – her thick southern accent never faded after years of Ohio living. I remember random conversations we had. I remember calling her Election night when President Obama won, and her saying she thought she never would have seen a black president in her lifetime. I remember telling her I was pregnant -- both times and her giving me "that look."

 

I remember so many random moments and for that I am forever grateful.

I am also forever thankful to all those who came out to celebrate my grandmother's life. Thank you. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is My Son Next? What The Zimmerman Verdict Really Means For Black America

         There used to be a time when black parents had to teach their children to look down when a white person spoke to them and definitely not talk back. And while we think we’ve came a long way from that… the case of Trayvon Martin proves otherwise.

          There are actually people who believe this case had nothing to do with race because it involves two so-called “minorities.” Why is it that up until this case did George Zimmerman allegedly refer to himself as white?

           But let’s ignore that.
           Let’s focus on how the country is responding to this all. There are actually people who feel Trayvon was in the wrong. Zimmerman’s defense attorney himself, said Trayvon had time to run… but he didn’t. O’Mara also added that Trayvon was not just a kid with a bag of skittles…
            And he’s right. Trayvon has now become a symbol of race relations in America. Here we are in 2013 once again debating this entire thing.
           As a parent, what’s scary to me is that I feel like the parents from earlier times. Those times when a mother cautiously warned her children not to “sass white folks” – that’s the era my grandmother lived in. But yet – it seems we are still living in that era and don’t know it.
            Working in the news media, you clearly see the ugly truth that’s out there. Racism is alive and well. People continuously call newsrooms airing out their racist feelings – never knowing they’re speaking with a black woman. And it takes everything in me not to lash out. Even co-workers feel this case is “no big deal.” And that’s why I’m in the field I am in – to be a voice for my own people.
           Many have used the Zimmerman trial to point out the problem of black-on-black crime however let’s be real. If a black man shoots and kills another black man and that shooter is found – he is more than likely found guilty and sentenced to years if not life in prison.
            Hell, black men are given close to life sentences for street robberies. I have personally seen black men go through the wheels of justice here in the U.S. However, they are never judged by a jury of their peers. Jury members judging us cannot relate to the lives we live in America. They don’t know what it’s like to have their lives seen as nothing.
         As a mother, I am expected to teach my children how to navigate this world and survive. And as a mother of a black male, I feel his teachings will be a little more in depth. I feel I have to teach him certain measures so that his life is not seen as trivial.
        But how do I adequately teach him that? More importantly how do I teach the world that?
       There is already disdain and non-trust for the police in the black community, but that hasn't kept our black men alive. Our black men are now scared to live. In fact, a friend of mine says she has taught her young son to fear not only police but white people in general.
         Her reasoning is that they do not value a black man’s life, so he has to do all he can to stay alive.
         It’s true but it’s also true bullshit.
        Black men are an endangered species and they are constantly denied their inalienable rights.
        "Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," was never a phrase meant for us.
        The verdict in this case was definitely a wake up call to Black America. It was as if they were putting us back in our place.
        We were getting out of line. We got us a black man in the White House, thought “everything is all good now”.
        We were content – thinking we were on their level. That we finally made it.
         Fuck what Drake talking about, we still at the bottom. We’re still at the bottom trying to scramble and climb our way to the top.
        At the top of that climb is of course – real equality. Not this fake shit we’ve been living. At least back in the day, it was blatant and out in the open that we were not liked or wanted.
       Now their hatred for us is done in more subtle ways.

• Denying our men jobs so that they can’t take care of their families
• Purposefully leaving us out of promotions/better opportunities in the workplace
• Enacting laws that specifically target us

      And even when their hatred is put on full display for the whole world to see -- in the form of a grown man gunning down a child -- America blames us.      
       "It was self-defense"
       "Trayvon was the aggressor:"
       It’s amazing that a 17-year-old child can be blamed for his own death after being

gunned down. I don’t care how tall he was—he was and will always be a child.

Trayvon never got to vote, never graduated.

He died as a child.

And as a mother of a black male, I wonder could my son be next?

           

           

Steubenville Rape Case: An Opportunity To Teach Your Kids

(Trent Mays and Ma'Lik Richmond

photo courtesy: ABC news)

Times have changed.

It seems kids today are growing up a lot faster than in previous years. Kids barely capable of tying their shoes now have cell phones and iPads.

These devices are putting so much of the world at their fingertips.

But their young brains aren’t fully prepared to process it.

I think this was the case of the kids involved in the Steubenville rape case.

These were all teenagers trying to be adults. 

Though the kids involved probably just passed their drivers’ tests, you can argue they’ve probably been seeing adult-like content for awhile.

I’m sure they’ve all seen some type of porn by now. Back in the day, porn sites required a subscription, but now free porn sites come a dime a dozen.

House parties have been the setting for multiple movies showing all the fun that can be had at a rowdy, music bumping, drink-filled party. They often fail to show the real life consequences that can happen after a night of irresponsible drinking.

This entire party was a disaster waiting to happen.

Kids + alcohol – adults = Big Ass Disaster.

That girl should not have been drinking. None of them should have.

But being drunk does not mean she deserved to be raped.

And now all the kids involved will have to live with the consequences well into their adult lives. Those boys will now be labeled rapists and will have to register as sex offenders. 

That night will haunt the victim arguably for the rest of her life.

But questions still remain in the case.

And the biggest is: Where were the parents of every single one of these kids?

I was a teen once. We know teens are sneaky but how can your child be out into the wee hours of the morning and you’re not concerned?

Better yet, how is it they have the balls to do it?

Parents have to start being parents again. 

I would’ve never had the audacity to disrespect my mother and be out all night like I was grown. The minute I pulled some shit like that I would’ve been looking for a new place to stay.

Get real with your kids about the world and what’s going on in it. Use this case as an opportunity to teach your sons and daughters.

Men have lost respect for women while women in turn have lost respect for themselves. A woman’s sole purpose is not as a man’s sexual object.

Young men need to know that and so do young women.

For My Firstborn

I'm sure every parent thinks their kids is super cool, sweet and the cutest thing walking.

But I have the proof to back up my beliefs.   : )

Today marks a miraculous milestone for me; the birth of my baby girl two years ago.

If most people actually sat down and thought about the miracle that is pregnancy, they'd see why children are such gifts.

My daughter is one of the best things that could ever happen to me.

From the first kicks to the first kiss, I loved her. When she was in the womb, genderless and nameless, I knew I loved her and would protect her until the death of me.

I can finally relate to my own mother and the many things I've heard her say. All the things I wasn't allowed to do were forbidden out of pure love for me.

Now I'm the one saying it's bedtime or "no" to candy.

I simply want the best for mine. I was determined not to have a baby at a young age (though some may argue 20s is too young) because I knew I wouldn't be able to meet all her needs.

Armed with a college degree and my first job out of college, I was prepared to give this little girl all the world has to offer.

And now two years later, I still feel the same way. I'm amazed at this love I have. It's a love like no other.

I didn't cry at any of my graduations.

But I did cry when I first held my baby girl in my arms.

After 9 hours of labor and a half hour of pushing, this gift was finally mine.

I vowed to give my baby the best which is why I strive to be the best.

My daughter will reap the benefits of my hard work.

That's my gift to her.

Happy Birthday, baby girl.

What I Got From Django Unchained

Everybody has had something to say about Django Unchained and so I might as well throw my two cents in there.

First off, it was hilarious. The stars of the movie were flawless. 

Critics have been bad-mouthing the film since its release, saying the movie was not realistic and poked fun at slavery.

I failed to miss that part of the movie.

Sure there were some laughs here and there in the movie, but the entire time, my mind was thinking of the horrible institution slavery really was.

Ignore the gun slinging, slick talking free slave Jamie Foxx portrays and look at what he really was underneath—a man whose wife was beat in front of him and stripped from his life.

Is that not realistic?

Did this not happen to countless slave families?

Slave men had to helplessly watch their wives be cruelly mistreated and they could do nothing. They had to standby while their wives were used as sexual objects that belonged to another man—despite the union the two of them truly shared.

Many today argue that the institution of slavery is what caused the basis for the breakdown of the black family.

Black men today still feel like helpless bystanders when it comes to the black women in their lives.  And black women have been trained to take pain and mistreatment and not look to be saved.

Black women endure the pain. There are no knights in shining armor to save them.

That’s what I got from Django Unchained.

Leonardo DiCaprio’s character fully embodied the attitude of slave owners. Blacks were nothing more than animals and they were in fact property.

He took delight in having the slaves fight and kill each other, just to live another day and possibly be killed by a stronger man the very next day. 

You can even argue that what started as forced violence on one another has continued into today’s society as learned and acceptable behavior.

Black men are killing one another at alarming rates and often times the perpetrator soon becomes the victim.

That’s what I got from Django Unchained.

Another thing you cannot ignore is the message of hope the movie gives.

Yeah, hope.

Although slavery has long ended, it still gives you (for lack of a better word) some satisfaction that maybe despite all the brutality, cruelty and pain blacks lived and died with, there was one Django that emerged.

For critics who say there was no gun slinging, slick talking free slave like Django, you can only hope that out of the millions of lives destroyed by slavery at least one slave found his wife and rode off with her to live happily ever after.