Happy Holidays!

Thank you for reading the blog and keeping me honest. I appreciate you and thank you once again for making 2013 a stand out year. I'm so looking forward to sharing with you in 2014.

Here's wishing each of you the most joyous of holiday seasns!

We Need Somebody to Look Up To

A god has returned home. We have been blessed to have had him among us. Of course, I'm referring to Nelson Mandela. Volumes have been said in remembrance of him since his passing earlier this month. There is nothing left to be said other than we have all been made better by the example he set and he was one of, if not, the greatest person of our century.

We've lost a lot of great people over the years. We speak about the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and the Kennedy brothers. Ywt we barely mention the others who have given us so much. People like forward thinking legislators like Shirley Chisolm,Barbara Jordan and Harold Washington. People like historians and teachers like John Henrik Clarke and Alex Haley. People like A. Philip Randolph, Bayard Rustin and Fannie Lou Hamer. Ask any person today under the age of 40 and they would be hard pressed to recognize any of these names. Ask any person over the age of 40 and they'd have to think long and hard before recognition reached their eyes. It would be funny if it were not so sad.

So often we look to the loudest person to represent us. When something happens in the Black community, the pundits contact the usual suspects: Rev. Jesse Jackson, Rev. Al Sharpton, Dr. Henry Louus Gates and Dr. Cornel West. They don't count, at least not to me and not to most of the Black people I know. They are the puppets placed on the show to entertain between the real acts.

Where are the equivalents to the people mentioned? Where is the next Barbara Jordan? The next Alex Haley? The next Fannie Lou Hamer?

Mandela like Hamer, Randolph, Chisolm and the others mentioned walked softly but carried a damn big stick. He was a gentle giant revered upon many, even his enemies. He was an acknowledged worldwide hero who served with dignity and quiet grace as did Clarke and Haley and Jordan who all died before him.

My heart is heavy from his loss. I mourn his passing as I did with the other greats whose names are no longer recognized even as their contributions live on. I need somebody to look up to. We need somebody to look up to.

Because I'm truly sick and tired of the puppet show. It's time for a headliner to appear.

Let’s Talk…To Each Other

This post is going to put me on somebody’s shit list. Actually, it’s going to put me on a lot of somebody’s shit list but that’s okay. I can take it.

Recently I attended a day-long conference regarding international social justice. Attendees were seated at tables designated by a particular justice issue. There were seven people at my table united by our common interest in fair labor practices. Three of us were eating our lunch as the other four texted on their phones and poked their tablets.

I took a sip of water and then declared to the table, “How about we do what people used to do and talk to each other.” After a couple of uncomfortable seconds, the ladies put their phones and tablets away and everyone agreed this would be a good idea.

Normally I would not do such a thing. But I’ve really become fed up with this habit people have since the advent of cell phones and tablets. We have become so discourteous that ignoring others has become standard.

How often have you seen two people sitting across from each other in a restaurant and both are talking on the phone? Several years ago, this was something of a shock. Nowadays it seems to be accepted. Is there something wrong with me or has this become the “new normal?” Where was I when it was decided people should go out together but spend time apart talking on cell phones? This has become so regular that people take me to task when I mention it. I guess when people are out together, they mean they are occupying the same space but not interacting with each other. Silly me!

Another example of this egregious behavior occurs on public transportation. Riding public transportation has always been a bit harried. People are mean, pushy and downright discourteous.

The worst of these, however, is the person who insists on sharing his entire conversation with everyone on the bus or the train. Although you could care less about the petulant kids or stingy boyfriend or irritating co-worker, you are encroached upon with the entire conversation. If you look at the person, you’re given a withering stare and sometimes asked why you’re listening in on their conversation. If you answer that the person is talking so loud that you can’t help but hear, all hell breaks loose and you become part of the messiness you had hoped to avoid. There is no way to win.

When did technology absolve us from practicing common courtesy?

I’m not advocating that we ban the use of technology. I recognize the great advances new technologies have made in our society. People are living longer and better. We make friends all over the world without leaving the comfort of home. We can access all forms of information in a short period of time. Technology has become useful in ways we could only dream about 20 short years ago.

On the other hand, technology, however, should not absolve us of our basic humanity. Technology is a tool and should be used as judiciously as any other tool. It should not be the end of a civil society.

So I’m asking if it’s possible for us to use technology the way it was meant to be used and for us to socialize the way we were meant. Is it possible for us to have a conversation with the person seated across from us instead of the person who is miles away and on the other end of the phone? Can we get together for coffee or lunch and not text while giving our companions our full attention? Can we ride the bus without making everyone privy to our lives? Can we watch a movie without the proliferation of cell phones going off disturbing the movie experience? Can we sit in a meeting without being interrupted incessantly by phones chirping and chiming?

Is anyone bothered by this continued encroachment upon courtesy and civility? Or is it just me?

Happy Devil's Day!

Today is Halloween, one of my favorite holidays. I’ve gotten older and my costumes have changed but the fun remains the same. I remember fondly as a child when all I was a pair of too big pants, an old jacket, dirty gym shoes, eyebrow pencil and lipstick smears on the face and a paper bag. Most of the kids in my neighborhood wore some variation of the same. We also had something else in common - camaraderie. We were out and about ringing doorbells, shouting "Trick or Treat" and getting loads of candy. We even went in to the bar on the corner (this was the only time we could) and received treats from the bartender and change from the patrons.

The neighbors feigned shock and awe at the little homemade costumes we wore with pride. They pretended not to know one child from another and along with our candy gave us "a little something extra" like a nickel or a dime. We swapped candy with each other as we ran from house to house. At the end of the night, we all went home happy, bags spilling over with our bounty and watched as our parents emptied said bounty on the table, picking out their favorites and throwing the unwrapped candy in the garbage. Such was Halloween then.

Since that time Halloween has gotten a bad rap. Tales of horror and mayhem abound. Those tales of horror are not stories of teens throwing eggs or slashing tires just for sport. They're not the stories of the apple with the razor blade hidden inside. It's the story of how those of us who deign celebrate Halloween are going to be cursed for all time because Halloween has become Devil's Day. Like me, you're probably checking your calendar of holidays and looking for Devil's Day. Let me save you the trouble. It isn't there. So who declared Halloween the Devil's Day? Why, well-meaning Christians, of course.

I remember when I first heard this. While planning to costume shop for my son, I mentioned the shopping to a friend. She looked at me aghast and uttered "How could you celebrate Halloween? That's the Devil's Day." I thought she was joking but quickly realized she wasn’t. She was serious. So I asked her why she would give the devil a day? She looked at me as if I'd lost all good sense and said that dressing in costume especially as a devil or one of him minions and uttering trick or treat was worshiping the devil. I shook my head and walked away. I didn't get it then and I don't get it now.

Here’s a very brief history of Halloween. The day has both Celtic and European roots and was originally a celebration that marked the end of summer and the harvest season called Samhain. In the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV declared November 1st All Saints Day to honor saints and martyrs and changed what was once a secular holiday into a Christian one. October 31st was declared as All-hallows Eve which was shorted to Halloween. When immigrants came to America from Europe, they brought their Halloween customs with them. In time Halloween developed into a secular but community centered holiday. Today Halloween generates over $5 billion annually in the US alone. Needless to say, we Americans love Halloween.

Over the past 10 or so years, I've heard a number of people declare Halloween the Devil's Day and have kept their children from participating in the festivities. And my question is always the same - why give the devil a day? Is the devil more worthy of a day than Mussolini or Eichmann or Bin Laden? Each of them has done a great many despicable things to humankind. Have you ever once considered having a party or dressing up for Stalin Day? I think not.

It would certainly help if these folks took a minute from condemning others to hell to study a little history. Often it is those who know just a little to take things out of context. Or possibly this tirade about Halloween is about control. One of the best ways to control something is to introduce an element of evil into the game. Cigarette smoking was one of ways cool people were able to show their coolness. Now smoking has been relegated to something akin to having leprosy.

I believe those who declare Halloween the Devil's Day are not trying to be hurtful. They honestly believe the rhetoric about Halloween although there is no such uproar about Santa. They believe criticizing the government is treason regardless of wrongs the government may perpetrate in our name. They believe drinking any form of liquor is against God although Jesus being the party animal that he was certainly didn't think so. His first miracle was turning water into wine to the party could continue. They believe it's wrong to have an abortion but okay to execute a criminal because they can distinguish good killing from bad. They believe their way is the only way, the right way without giving any credence to the billions of people who may believe otherwise.

It's a good thing that all who believe in God do not have the power of God. Too many people would be condemned to hell and humankind has devised so many ways to hurry and get us there. It's a good thing that so many believe in the notion of a kind, loving God regardless of whether God is proclaimed he or she or is called Yahweh, Allah, Jehovah, Krishna or Satnam. What matters is that God loves us all in spite of our foolishness and believes that life should be lived well. So if that means dressing up as a pirate or princess or clown or even a little devil, sticking up your neighbors for a chocolate bar while yelling "Trick of Treat," so be it.

Now if you will excuse me, I need a nap. I just eaten my body's weight in chocolate because we had left over candy from Hallo, excuse me, Devil's Day.

Step Away from the Self-Help Aisle and Help Yourself

Have you ever wandered through the self-help aisle in a bookstore? I do it every time I visit either a new or used bookstore. The number of books claiming to help us find joy, happiness, contentment, creativity, life force and the like is staggering. I never realized how many people out there who have given such great thought to helping the rest of us live a fulfilled life. It never occurred to me that so many of us were so screwed up that we needed more than 100 other people to help us do so.

The usual suspects are always there. Tony Robbins, Dr. Phil, Eckhart Tolle, Iyanla Vanzant, Rick Warren and Joel Osteen, to name a few, have at least two books in this category. I find it interesting that almost each of these people is a motivational speaker, a psychologist or a minister. They’ve all come through some sort of personal crisis and each has come out on the other side with great wisdom to share and great amounts of money earned. Each one is a living encyclopedia of the “get up and get moving” pronouncement. If not that, it’s the “get up, get praying and then get moving” declaration.

Don’t get me wrong. I know there are millions of people who are in need of guidance. Anti-depressants are being prescribed in record amounts to the young and the old. Suicides are on the rise. Cults are pointing at the changes in nature and proclaiming we are in the last days. Religious cable channels have tripled within the past 10 years. Plastic surgery and body modification is no longer the exception but the rule as we mold and shape ourselves in an attempt to stay young and lithe. Even the rich and famous seem to be out of control trying to find their way. What the hell is happening to us?

For as long as I can remember there have been self-help books. Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich, Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, Dr. Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power of Positive Thinking and the Bible were the books I remembered from my youth. Almost every household had at least one of these books on the shelves and they all had a Bible. These were the tomes people turned to when they were depressed or looking for the way to a fulfilled life.

Fast forward to 1987 and Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth opened the flood gates. From there came Stephen Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and Susan Jeffers’ Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway. The 1990’s introduced Robert Bly’s Iron John, Anthony Robbins’ The Giant Within, M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled, Richard Carlson’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and Deepak Chopra’s The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. According to the Columbus Dispatch in January of this year, an estimated 2000 self-help books are published annually resulting in a $10 billion a year business. Self-help books sell more generally in January when people are looking to start over in the New Year.

What does this say about us as people? Is it possible that we need guidance from 2000 books to turn our lives around? Have we become so lost that we actually believe our problems, our lives, our successes and our losses can all be corrected or directed by someone who has no knowledge of us personally? Have we strayed so far from our center?

I wish had the answer. I wish I could recommend one of those 2000 books that would answer all those questions. I wish I could tell you why you’re here, tell you what you were destined to be or what you are destined to do. But I can’t. I can’t because I don’t know you. And on any given day, I don’t even know me.

I’ll share with you what I do know. Sometimes asking the questions is enough. Sometimes taking a deep breath is enough. Sometimes crying until you fall asleep is enough. Sometimes giving yourself a hug is enough. Sometimes it’s the small things that answer the big questions.

Most importantly, I know what I don’t want. That gives me a place to start. Sometimes knowing what you don’t want can help lead you to what you do. That may not be the way you would answer the life questions but it’s a start. Sometimes a start is all you need.

Happy Birthday to Us

Today is my son’s birthday. He looks much the same as he did when he was little boy. Yes, he’s grown taller and his voice is most certainly deeper. He has a beard, a thick head of hair and curses. I remind his about his language when we’re together. And no matter how old he gets, he’s still my baby boy.

Time goes by so quickly when you have a child. It seems the kid was just a kid several years ago. While you’re busy helping with homework, making cupcakes for school events and attending PTA meetings, you are so much in the moment that you never connect with time. When you head comes up from everything child related in your life, you realize that years have passed and you never got to really know your child. You child has become an adult and you didn’t have the chance to take notice of this adult in the making.

It has been difficult to reconcile the fact that my son is a grown man with a life of his own. I cried the first day I took him to school as did he. I watched as he made friends and had sleepovers. I took him to his first dance with his first girlfriend. I waited patiently for him to come home just before his 11pm curfew. I remember the conversation we had about him losing his virginity. I cried as he walked across the stage when he received his high school diploma. And I watched him walk to the bus stop as he left for his first day of college. Yet with all these memories and more, it never once occurred to me that he would become a man. Yes, I dreamed of him as a man. I wanted him to live through big city violence and police profiling to become a man. But I was so busy being his mother that I had no time to see him as a distinct human being. And that’s the real tragedy of motherhood.

I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday because for me, it was just yesterday. I saw that wizened face with the little arms drawn up and I was head over heels in love. At that moment, I knew I would give up everything in order for this child to live. Like every mother before me and probably every mother to be, I experienced the thrill of unconditional love.

Every mother knows this feeling and it doesn’t matter if you’ve given birth to the child or whether an agency places that child in your arms. You are a mother and it is a badge worn proudly until the day you die.

And with all this love and joy, I still wonder in my quiet moments what my life would have been like had my son not been born.

Any mother who says she has not wondered this is either fooling herself or lying. Mostly likely, she’s doing both. Society frowns on that type of speculation. So be it. Frown away if that makes you happy. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering what I could have done or where might I have gone. Would I have travelled around the world as I had planned? Would I become the great newspaper reporter I wanted to be? Would I have moved to Los Angeles and followed my dream of being a producer? Would I have remained single, being free to take lovers as I choose? Would my life have been the adventure I thought it would be if only I hadn’t had a child?

There are no answers to those questions. I can only answer that those dreams did not come to pass. But now that my son is an adult and living his own life, I can still make some of those dreams a reality. I’m not too old and feeble to travel and my passport is up to date. I am still a good writer and I have the clips to prove it. I can move to Los Angeles and look up some folks I know in the entertainment industry. If I were willing to cheat on my husband, I could certainly have a lover or two but I don’t have the inclination. There is still adventure to be had. It may not be what I had in mind when I was in my 20’s, 30’s or 40’s but adventure is always waiting if you’re willing follow its lead.

So not only is it my son’s birthday, it’s also mine. His birthday has given me as much freedom as it has given him. I’ve been the best mother I could possibly be. My son can vouch for that. He’s had the best childhood I could give him. He’s well travelled and well read. He is a published author and works with youth at his high school alma mater. He is living his life honorably with nothing detrimental in his way. He is only hampered by the limitations he may place upon himself. I have given him all that I can and it is up to him to determine if he wants to be all that he can be.

I love my son. I would never trade the experience of being his mother. He gave as much to me as I have given him. After life, the greatest gift I can give to him is to release him from being my baby. And the best gift he can give to me is to accept it.

The Big Shutdown

Today we are waiting breathlessly for the government to shutdown. We’ve been told it's going to happen at 12:01am Tuesday morning so the countdown has begun. The media pundits have House and Senate leaders pointing fingers at each other for this travesty and everyone is pointing fingers at the president. No one wants to take the blame for this mess but everyone is wrong. With the exception of children and the homeless, we are all to blame.

I know what you’re thinking. You‘re wondering how I have the gall to say that you and the rest of us in America are responsible for this debacle. I say it because I believe it to be true and I’m willing to call everybody including myself on it.

The legislature and the president screwed around with the money needed to run our government by blatantly misusing funds in our name. They gave tax breaks to corporation and gave corporations the same rights as individuals all within our view. They waged war under the guise of national security and unashamedly gave themselves raises, pension increases and access to healthcare the rest of us would lose an arm for all while proclaiming they are working to make government better for us.

What were we doing while all this transpired? We were busy watching the Kardashians or the Housewives or never-ending sports competitions. We were tweeting and sitting for hours conversing on Facebook. We were acting as though we were doing God’s work by not engaging in politics. We were condemning workers for wanting an increase in the minimum wage while Corporate CEO’s make millions of dollars with the help of the government. We were busy telling ourselves one person can’t make a difference. We were doing everything but what we should have been doing. We should have been paying attention. And we should have been objecting to everything the government has been doing in our name.

Like some of you, I believed in the fallacy that I was actually doing something. I’ve signed any number of email petitions. I’ve walked a picket line or two. I attended rallies in support of workers. I’ve gone to conferences and even facilitated an occasional workshop on worker rights. I’ve made some calls to my congressman. I’ve written essay admonishing those who have acted improperly. I’ve done what I thought I could do and patted myself on the back for my activism. But I was wrong. I have been blind to the real ills of our government. And because of my unwillingness to see what was going on, I have contributed to the upcoming fiasco.

So as we sit back and wait to see what’s going to happen as the government races towards shutdown, what should we do? The legislature certainly doesn’t seem to have a clue. They don’t have to worry really. Their pay and benefits will continue. The folks looking for their Social Security checks are worried. The war machine will continue but the troops may not receive their pay. The stock market is threatening to close but corporations are still making money from those lucrative government contracts. So the only people who are losing in this shutdown are us, the “average American.”

My harangue is over. My thoughts go to the questions we need to ask and answer. What do we do now? How do we do what needs to be done? Can we make things better? Can we fix things so this won’t happen again? Where do we go from here? Can I affect change?

I wish I had the answers to all these questions but I don’t. I do, however, have suggestions.

What do we do now? We start paying attention. We need to begin vetting our elected officials. We need to look at how they vote and ask them why they voted that way. We need to make them accountable for every action they make and every dime they spend. We need to remember that we have the power, not them. And then we need to start acting like it.

If we think we’ve reached bottom, we’re mistaken. Yes, we are in dire straits but things could get worse. It is up to us to make sure it doesn’t. Being vigilant is not merely being attentive to our government but being attentive to what we do as a nation. We must insist that everyone have healthcare. We need to make sure everyone is fed, clothed and housed. We must do for others nothing less than we would do for ourselves. If we could all do just that, we can stand up to the bad times. By doing so, we do what needs to be done and we make things better for everyone. There must be parity. The rich and the corporations must pay their fare share. The government shutdown doesn’t seem to worry any of them because they are unaffected by the ebb and flow of government processes. They will not miss a meal. They have access to great healthcare. Their mortgages won’t be affected if FHA or Fannie Mae stops. Gas prices don’t bother their wallets. They will continue on as though nothing has happened because for them, nothing has. This has to change and change quickly if we are to make sure we don't repeat our mistakes.

We have to find those family members and friends who keep saying one person can’t make a difference and show them otherwise. All of us know of the individuals who made a difference because they said enough. People like Marian Edelman-Wright who changed the lives of children by making them front and center in our collective consciousness. Ralph Nader who changed what information is imparted to us as consumers. Florence Nightingale who revolutionized patient care. Jonas Salk who created the polio vaccine is another. These are just a few of the lesser known people who have changed the world. There are so many more people who changed the way we think, feel, look and act more famous than those mentioned. People like Nelson Mandela, Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Rosa Parks, Eleanor Roosevelt, Martin Luther King and Oprah Winfrey are just some of the well known individuals who have affected change in our world. All of them are individuals who decided they could make a change.

Finally we must remember that there is no them or they. There is only us. We are the United States of America not the Republic of Individuals Living Without Consequence. There are definite consequences in living like an island onto oneself. We are reaping the benefits of that view and I, for one, am surprised this has not happened sooner.

CNN.com declared today that “IT IS ABOUT YOU!” I beg to differ. It’s not about you. It’s about us and what we are prepared to do.

I’m ready. Are you?

For evil to triumph

This has been a particularly harrowing year and we still have two and a half months to go. Human rights violations continue to escalate and the Constitution and all it stands for is under attack. We are losing schools and building prisons. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan continue killing soldiers and civilians alike and there is a discussion to take on a conflict in yet another country. Congress can't seem to agree on a healthcare plan that will protect us all, joblessness is at an all time high and the economy is at an all time low. If this were a horror or disaster movie, I'd pull my jacket over my head or walk out of the theater.

If only this was a horror or disaster movie. Instead these tragic events are a merely a small representation of the worst in us. There have always been executions, wars, mass murders and child abuse. The difference is that we hear about it often and quickly given our technological advances. Collectively we sigh, express remorse, pain, sadness, anger, frustration and righteous indignation. But the worst thing we do is accept that this is way of the world and that there's nothing we can do about it. Shame on us!

Irish orator Edmund Burke is quoted as saying "all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." It would seem his words are prophetic. Yet there have been times when the exact opposite has been true. Many societal ills were recognized and rectified because good people decided enough was enough and then did something. The great social movements of the 19th and 20th century give testimony to that fact. Good men and women decided they could change the world that they could force evil into the light and make others join them in the fight. They used their bodies, their voices, their brains, their courage and yes, their righteous indignation, and changed history. Injustices were too powerful to ignore and eventually they could no longer remain quiet. Thus, many who originally felt powerless recognized the power of good, the power of organized battle and the power of justice.

The holy books of religion and literary classics show us over and over again how good people overcome adversity and triumph over evil. How can we, as people of conscious and faith, proclaim in our churches, mosques and synagogues that we believe in an all-powerful God and then allow evil to flourish? Are we not the tools God uses to bring justice and peace to the world? Do we not believe that we are reflections of God's love? If we truly believe in an all powerful, ever loving God, how can we not fight against the evil done in our names and in our midst?

I asked you in an earlier post what would you do in the face of all that is wrong with the world. I think I have a pretty good idea of what many of you would do. So maybe I asked the wrong question. Instead I'll ask if you plan to sit idlely by shaking your head at the evening news or will you write a letter, make a call, attend a rally or join a group? Only you know for sure.

"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." As people of consciousness, let’s not allow “doing nothing” to be our legacy.

Our Children, Our Loss

Since the notorious “not guilty” verdict in the Zimmerman case, many of my friends and I have been discussing what it like to lose a child. Two of these friends have lost sons so the Trayvon Martin case has been particularly painful for them.

I have an 18 year old son who will be a sophomore in college this fall. He is still living at home since room and board at his school is ridiculously expensive (that’s a topic for another day) so he and I see each other every day. Until Martin’s death last year, I took these short encounters for granted. Yes, I’m always a little uneasy when he is out after dark but I chalk that up to being a protective parent. Now, I find I can’t go to bed until he’s in the house. When I hear that key in the lock, I breathe a sigh of relief and say a silent prayer to the Creator for bringing my son safely home.

I remember the day he was born as if it were yesterday. Hell, I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I was never supposed to have children. My gynecologist said I would have to go the in-vitro route. At the time, I was married to husband #2 and we were content knowing there were no children in our future. Little did I know we would separate and I would become pregnant after the age of 35.

Dr. Smith gave me the urine test and returned to the examining room to tell me I was pregnant. I told him he was kidding. He said “No, you’re pregnant.” And I replied “no, you’re kidding.” Exasperated with this back and forth, he held out a little plastic stick and said “See, the stick is blue. You’re pregnant.” I was so surprised you could have bought me cheap. He gave me the stick and told me to ask my boss if I could go home because I was not ready for the news he’d delivered. He also informed me that I was near the end of my first trimester, that having a baby at my age and with my medical conditions put me on high risk pregnancy list and to consider whether or not I wanted to continue the pregnancy. He gave me 48 hours to think it over. Absolutely floored, I was on my way back to work and saw my friend (who eventually became my son’s godmother). I told her the news. She hugged me and then steered me toward the office.

I had imagined myself as a mother when I was a little girl playing house. Later as the teenage years approached, I realized I wanted a life of excitement and travel. There was no place in that life for children or a husband and I wanted neither. When my doctor delivered that news that day in April 1994, I knew with all the fervor within me that I wanted my child.

My pregnancy was a high risk one. I had to follow a strict diet, removed from my oral medications and had to administer insulin shots. I went to the hospital two days a week for fetal monitoring and other testing the entire pregnancy. And with all that, I loved being pregnant.

My water broke while I was sitting on a bus coming home from work. I endured 17 hours of labor and on a chilly Friday morning, my 19 inch, 6 pounds, 3 ounce baby boy was born. It was and still is the happiest day of my life. Never before or since have I experienced such joy nor have I felt so alive. To this day, my “miracle” baby, my son is the great love of my life.

A couple weeks after my son was born, Susan Smith killed her two little boys. At first, she was on the news begging some unknown Black man to bring back her children. Several days later, it was found that she had murdered her sons. For over a week after that, I could not put my child down. I held him and cried all day. After all the tests, appointments, trials and tribulations I went through to have this child, I couldn’t imagine any mother killing her child. That hurt me more than I could imagine. The death of a child is so tragic to me that when I hear about the death of anyone’s child, I shed some tears.

When all us mothers get together to discuss husbands, work, the economy and the world at large, we all smile when we talk of our children. We admit that our children can be pains in the ass. They aggravate us. They make us cry. They worry the living hell out of us. We can’t wait for them to be on their own and out of our hair. But no matter how stressful they make our lives, we love them fiercely and can’t imagine life without them.

This is how the death of Trayvon Martin affects me and my friends, the mothers who meet. When we meet and discuss this issue, those mothers who’ve lost their sons can barely find the words to express them sorrow and empathy for what Trayvon’s mother is experiencing. For even when they are laughing, there is a just a hint of sadness. The missed birthdays, the many Christmas gifts that will never be exchanged, the Thanksgiving dinners that will never be shared, the grandchildren you will never see, the wedding you will never attend – there is nothing that comes close to the pain. Imagine burying your child when you’ve been paying insurance premiums so your children can bury you.

I wouldn’t ever want to trade places with Martin’s mother or my friends who have lost their sons. We lost a child that night last year. We’ve lost many before then and we’ve lost many since. Unfortunately, given the way we treat children as afterthoughts instead of people deserving of love and protection, we can expect to lose many more. Those deaths will be great losses to the world for those are futures that will never be.

I find myself hurting a little whenever I hear of another child lost to violence no matter where that child may live or who that child might be. All children are our children and as adults, we are responsible for them all. When we fail our children, we have failed as human beings.

Let's Chat About Church

Not too long ago, we had visitors in our home from a neighborhood congregation. They have actually been visiting on a regular basis to meet with my husband and my son. I am usually on my way so the most I have time to do is say hello and goodbye in the same breath.

This particular afternoon, however, I was home and able to actually sit in on the discussion. We had a lively debate about a number of issues. One of the most heated discussions centered on church.

The word "church" to me always signifies the people and not the edifice. Upon checking the dictionary, however, the building is always listed as the first definition followed by the clergy and then the people who actually make up the church. There are a number of passages in the Bible that mention church and congregation but none of these references pertain to a particular building. They refer to a gathering of people. The Bible does say "where two or three are gathered in my name, that's where my church shall be." So using that methodology, church can be anywhere - a home, a club, a hall or a sanctuary. It's not the building that makes the church, it's the people gathered there.

For several years, I worked at the headquarter office of a Christian denomination. People would always be shocked when the powers that be did something that was blatantly unfair. They would exclaim 'How could they do that? This is the church!" My response was always the same - this is not the church. This is the headquarter office. Many people found it hard to reconcile the headquarter office with the church. They assumed the two were synonymous. But they are not. There was and continues to be very little God in that building.

So what is the church, you may be wondering, if it's not the headquarter office or the district office or the building where you worship each week? The simple answer is you. You are the church. It doesn't matter if it's a church or temple or mosque or synagogue or ashram. You are the church. In the end, you are not only the church but you are also the ultimate reflection of God no matter the path you choose.

It's very easy to disregard the church if you think of it as a building for worship once a week. It's easy to point a finger and judge when you think of the church as it or them or they. But it's not so easy to ignore if the words used are we or us or ours. We ask why isn't the church saying something about health care. It doesn't speak out because we don't. Why isn't the church seeking a solution to homelessness? It isn’t because we're not seeking a solution. Since we are the church, the church can't do what we don't do. If we take two steps forward, the church does too. If we take three steps back, the church does as well. To add insult to injury, when a church leader does speak out again an injustice, that cleric is chastised for not focusing on people’s souls. It is illogical to think a hungry person can focus on feeding his soul when his daily struggle is to feed his body. The body, mind and spirit are inextricably linked and one cannot be fed if the others are starving. Why would we expect the church to recognize the hunger of one and not the other?

In the end, it doesn't really matter what the building is in which you worship. You can pray or praise anywhere you feel the desire. If you do so among a group of two or more, you're having church. Don't dissuade yourself from having church if the need is there. You may never know who might need church at that moment. Remember it is not they or them who make up the church. It is us. We have always been and will always be the church. To borrow from Webster, we are "the total complex of relation between people and society." The church goes as we go for we are the church politic in all its glory.

His Life Was Worthless

Once again, the United States has decided a young Black man’s life is worthless. Just several minutes ago, the jury returned a “Not guilty” verdict in the trial of George Zimmerman. You may recall last year George Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin. He claimed he shot in self-defense. It was found, however, that Trayvon was armed only with a can of soda and a bag of Skittles, dangerous only if you have diabetes.

Zimmerman called the police department when seeing the young Black man in the gated community he patrolled and was told emphatically to stay in the car while backup came. Zimmerman chose to ignore the command and decided to approach the teen. The teen, quite rightly, questioned Zimmerman’s authority and a fight ensued. Zimmerman then shot the unarmed teen claiming he was in a fight for his life.

This has been debated ad nauseum by the various political pundits, civil rights leaders, police officials, and the general public. Regardless of whether or not Zimmerman felt threatened, one fact is abundantly clear. He made a conscious decision to ignore the advice of season professional police officers and instead targeted a young man he felt did not belong in the gated community in which this tragedy took place. Zimmerman profiled Martin, decided he was the one in charge and then when he realized he could not contain the situation, chose to end the life of someone he had no business bothering in the first place. His racist, unwarranted decisions led to the death of a young man, the devastation of a family and another victory for the racist judicial system people of color have to contend with decade after decade.

What does today’s verdict say to the Black youth, particularly Black males, in America? No matter who you are, no matter what you say or what you do, America will only see a threat to be removed from this life. Young Black men are vermin who must be exterminated. Black men are unworthy of justice. Young Black men are unworthy of life itself.

With all the hoopla that has surrounded the election and subsequent re-election of Barack Obama as president, isn’t it ironic that in a country that has been trumpeting the supposed end of racism can look a Black family in the eye and proclaim that the elections were all for nothing. Your son’s life is worth nothing. And we have the verdict to prove it.

As an empathetic person, I hurt for Trayvon Martin’s family. As a spiritual person, I pray for Trayvon’s soul for it will never be at peace. As an American, I hope the mockery that was made of justice today will soon be over although history and the present prison industrial complex system are proving otherwise. As a Black person in America, I dream of a day when justice is no longer blind to injustice. But as a mother of a young, Black man, I hope to hell I am never in the position Trayvon Martin’s mother is in today. Because I would make sure that only hell could hide someone like George Zimmerman from me. And I wouldn’t bet the house money on that!

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

There is a group of people who are celebrating around the country. They celebrate because the sermon they have been preaching for years has finally come to light. Those celebrants are the conspiracy theorists who can point to alleged NSA whistleblower Edward Snowden and declare “I told you so!”

For decades, I’ve been hearing that the federal government has been spying on us. We know, for example, that the late J. Edgar Hoover, former director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, kept files on citizens he felt were subversive. It has come to light that he had the single largest collection of pornography in order to blackmail individuals to cease and desist in behavior he felt was detrimental to his agenda. His files on members of the Black Panther Party, Martin Luther King, John and Robert Kennedy to name a few, were legendary. Although Hoover blatantly violated the civil liberties of many American citizens, he can almost be forgiven for his dictatorial, myopic view of the world as he knew it.

Fast forward from the reign of Hoover to the current spate of US intelligence agencies. We have the FBI which is charged with investigating terrorism, civil rights, public corruption, kidnapping and organized crime. And each of us is aware of the infamous FBI’s most wanted list – one of the visible and effective means of law enforcement communication ever.

The Central Intelligence Agency is charged with collecting, analyzing and disseminating foreign intelligence to the president and other government decision makers relating to national security. The CIA is not a law enforcement agency and is not authorized to conduct operations in the US. However, in matters of national security like counterterrorism, the CIA works closely with the FBI.

The Department of Homeland Security, the knee jerk response to the September 11th attacks, is charged with one goal which is to keep America safe. Although the goal is clear and direct, this department has, in just 11 years, become the third largest cabinet department and the single biggest violator of civil liberties in recent history.

The highly secretive National Security Agency (NSA) and its newer arm, the Central Security Service (CSS) are charged with providing services and products to the Department of Defense, the aforementioned intelligence agencies, government agencies, select allies and coalition partners. This was the agency that employed Edward Snowden and this is the agency we should all fear.

Snowden blew the whistle on his bosses at the NSA informing the American people that this agency has been listening in on our phone calls, monitoring our emails and scanning our mail in the name of national security for quite some time. This blatant violation of the Constitution would be funny if it were not so dangerous.

NSA/CSS officials claim this invasion of privacy has allowed them to curtail various terrorist activities and arrest potential terrorists. None of these plots or the possible perpetrators has been seen nor has it been reported that these individuals will be standing trial for these supposed actions. What this tells me and many others is this government sanctioned spying of American citizens is another way of weeding out potential activists who would gain a voice in the way this country is governed. When the government has the means, the motive and the opportunity to crush their opponents before the opponents can even get a foot in the door, it is a very viable method of control.

Snowden has brought to light more than the fact that the US government is committing the same abuses it claims were committed by the former Soviet Union and are currently being committed by Communist China is just one of the many ways our government is playing fast and loose with the Constitution under the guise of keeping us safe. Not to mention the fact that our government is being blatantly hypocritical. Their idea of keeping us safe is keeping us ignorant of what they do and how they do it. Keeping us safe, as they define it, is keeping us in fear.

At this juncture, it is not enough to declare Snowden a hero when he is being demonized by our government. It is not enough to hope he finds asylum somewhere and continues to bring NSA abuses to light. It is not enough for us to recognize that our communication has been and continues to be monitored by a government maintaining we are free from oppression. And it is not enough to sign the various online petitions exhorting our elected officials to order the NSA to stop spying on American citizens.

It is time for us to say enough is enough. We need to flood Congress, President Obama, Attorney General Eric Holder and the directors of each agency and department with calls, emails, letters, tweets, faxes and postcards reminding them of the commitment they made to observe our constitutional rights. We need to remind them that they work for us. We need to let them know that keeping us safe does not mean they have the right to spy on us and we will not allow any of them to work against us in the name of national security.

Edward Snowden sounded the alarm. It is time for us to get up and get to work. If we don’t, we will have taken one giant step towards a future none of us wishes for, the future as predicted in George Orwell’s prophetic novel 1984. Then we really will have something to fear.

The Beholden Eye

People Magazine publishes a most beautiful people issue annually.  The usual suspects are there – Pamela Anderson, Denzel Washington, Angelina Jolie and the usual two Black women, Halle Berry and Beyonce Knowles.

Black women have entered every major area in American society.  They have become well-known doctors, lawyers, athletes, actors, astronauts and even captains of industry.  Yet Black women have yet to break into what would seemingly be the easiest glass ceiling in the world to break – the most beautiful list.  How is it in the land that has given birth to such beautiful Black women as Dorothy Dandridge, Kerry Washington, Angela Bassett, Gloria Foster, Diahann Carroll, Beverly Johnson and Lena Horne, list only two Black women? 

Greta Garbo, Carole Lombard, Betty Grable, Jane Mansfield, Marilyn Monroe, Twiggy, Pamela Anderson – they’re all blond bombshells.  And throughout the history of beauty in the United States, being White and blonde assured a woman of her.  But what of the women of color, those women who could certainly change their hair color but not the color of their skin?  Who considered them beautiful?  And what of the damage done to the psyche of women who look but never see themselves on the beautiful list?  What happens to them?

For years the images of Black women (and Black people) was almost nonexistent in popular media.  Eventually filmmakers like Oscar Micheax began to make race films that were made for Black audiences.  In mainstream film, Black women were usually portrayed as mammies, those large, wise Black women beholden to their white masters or employers.  The only other roles for Black women, especially pretty Black women, was that of the tragic mulatto.  For years, beautiful Black women found themselves in the same old role.  It was because Hollywood had no use for beautiful Black women.  When Black women were not relegated to playing mulattoes, they were usually given a scene to shine as a singer like Lena Horne did in a number of films.  Then Dorothy Dandridge arrived on the scene.  Dandridge was a rare talent.  She could sing, dance, act and she was lovely.  Cast in two mainstream Hollywood movies -Porgy and Bess and Carmen Jones - Dandridge laid to rest the image of the Black woman as simply window dressing in a movie.  So talented was she that the Academy of Movie Picture Arts and Sciences nominated her for a Best Actress Award for the riveting portrayal of Carmen Jones.  Unfortunately she died before showing the world all her God given talent.

If the image of Black women in the cinema was given short shrift, the world of print media was non-existent.  The popular magazines of the first half of the 20^th century like Look, Life, Time, Newsweek, Photoplay always found ways to glorify the beauty of White women and the debonair looks of White men.  But Black people were once again relegated to the background although there was no lack of beauty within the Black community at that time.  Yet it was not until the late 1950’s that Hollywood and New York began to notice the smoldering good looks of Eartha Kitt and Diahann Carroll along with handsome leading men like Sidney Portier and Harry Belafonte.  It took good looks along with undeniable talent that made Hollywood start to open its mind to the fact that Black people were beautiful in their own right. 

Still it wasn’t until 1974 that Beverly Johnson paved the way by becoming the first Black woman to appear on the cover of Vogue Magazine.  Johnson and Naomi Sims gave Black women and Black girls the image that had been missing for two hundred years.

Since the 1970’s Black women have graced the pages of magazines internationally and walked the catwalks in New York and London.  Black women as diverse as Oprah Winfrey and Tyra Banks are invited into homes all across America.  Kerry Washington, Angela Bassett, Halle Berry and Monique have all made films that millions of dollars for their studios.  Yet, the United States can only agree that two and only two Black women are good enough to be included in their Most Beautiful List.  After more than 100 years in the public eye, the damage to young Black girls is still being done.

These messages, unfortunately, are not only reinforced by popular culture but also by public institutions.  Recently, an inner-city high school was found to be constructing practices that supported racial hierarchy utilizing dance classes.  

It would seem that in this particular area, Black women are taking a huge leap backwards.  In the past, even without the great number of beautiful women of color commonly seen, that women of color and particularly Black women, had a great deal of self confidence.  Women in the Black community were acknowledged no matter their size, definitive African features and myriad shades.  This view of Black beauty was evident and the real arbiters of beauty in the community, Black men, seemingly agreed.  Both Black and Latino men have always been more receptive to larger body types and ethnic features as opposed to their White counterparts.  Thus the image of beauty, regardless of what popular culture deemed worthy, was not an image originally shared by communities of color.

The impossible standards set by the media and the fashion industries have not only been detrimental to women of color but Caucasian women as well.  The harm crosses racial lines and age barriers also.  As the image of beauty has changed, so have the methods of achieving said beauty.  The diet industry has grown exponentially with the rise of the thin, White ideal.  For those girls and women for whom dieting is not enough, starvation or eating disorders have become the norm.  It had always been presumed that such methods were solely the province of young, Caucasian women.  However studies have shown that these extremely harmful methods of reaching and maintaining those impossible standards have crossed the lines of both color and age. 

Black and Latino women and girls are not the only ones being affected by this notion of beauty and Whiteness.  In a recent survey conducted by the Mariko Morimoto of the University of Georgia and Susan Chang, it was discovered that White women were featured primarily in ads for beauty while models of other races and ethnicities were featured in ads for cars, health aids and travel.  This was found to be the case for both Japanese and other global publications.  This global phenomenon has become so prevalent in the Asian world that the most requested plastic surgery is the rounding of the eyes.  In this age of globalization, racism in the form of the western world notion of beauty, confirms its ugliness once again.

It may be asked if this trend will ever cease.  It may be asked if the world will once again recognize beauty in all its incarnations and cease to accept the Western world’s notion of beauty.  It may be asked if this notion of beauty is really important in light of the societal ills facing the world.  The answers are surely as varied as the number of people asking the questions.  Yet one fact remains.  There will always be a place in the world for beauty.  It is beauty that is valued and treasured in art, literature, music and nature.  It is beauty that is remembered when people speak of the world.  The notion of beauty is a subjective thing.  But beauty, in its many forms, is alive and well and residing amongst us all.

Supreme Injustice

As you’ve all heard by now, the Supreme Court voted 5 to 4 to gut the Voting Rights Act.  This monumental insult has been widely vilified by citizens and organizations everywhere.  Yet there seems to be no outrage from leaders of color.

I don’t know about you but I expected to hear screams and cries of “racism” from Revs. Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.  I expected Ben Jealous, president of the NAACP, to be on CNN the night the decision was read.  I thought the leaders of LaRaza would be calling on the entire Latino & Hispanic communities to be outraged.  Yet nary was a peep heard.

To give some of these folks their due, National Action Network, Rev. Al Sharpton’s organization, has a statement front and center on the website.  I signed a petition on the national NAACP site that popped up.  However there was no mention of this decision on the Jackson site for Rainbow Coalition/PUSH.  There was, however, a statement about Paula Deen.  The LaRaza site also makes no mention of the decision.  Needless to say most of the site was devoted to the Senate immigration bill and Michelle Obama attending the national convention.  There is even a report on the DOMA decision about same-sex marriage.  But nothing about the Voting Rights Act, an act that was designed to push voting rights back to the reconstruction era.

Why, you may ask, was this decision reached?  What, you may wish to know, is the purpose behind this decision?  There has been much discussion about this in my circles and I would imagine many of you are wondering the same.  Why?

Let’s look toward the future for that answer.  In almost every demographic projection by scientists, mathematicians and census bureaus, by the year 2040 the US will be majority people of color.  The single largest group will be comprised of Latino/Hispanic who are born here or will have immigrated here.  The next largest group will be Blacks followed by Asians.  Thus the majority of American citizens will look vastly different from the look of today.  Others and I believe it is that projection which has resulted in the egregious decision made by the Supreme Court.  How will it be possible for the minority to continue to rule a majority?  By enacting legislation now that will have serious impact on the future.  This decision and others like it (the horrific decision giving corporations the rights of individuals comes to mind) is a way for Whites to continue to maintain control even as they become the majority.

It is obvious that the Whites in power carefully studied their history looking at South Africa’s past practice of apartheid and giving it a modern spin.  Look at the myriad of decisions that have been enacted in Arizona.  Enslaving people by taking away their knowledge of their own history is a very insidious way of enslavement.  Giving police the right to stop and frisk as they do in New York is a method of enslavement.  Making people carry papers showing they are American citizens in a sly method of enslavement.  Within the urban areas of Chicago, Dallas, Minneapolis and others, poor neighborhoods are being gentrified and suburban born Whites are moving in.  The residents who stayed through White flight and urban blight are being moved to the suburbs.  The myth of scattered housing perpetrated by HUD is another way of moving people of color to the suburbs where they will have no access to city services.  This is not happenstance.  These plans were hatched a long time ago when corporate heads, politicians and others saw the projections that have only recently become public.

Public schools have fallen prey to this plan.  Schools have become feeder systems to prisons.  Charter schools are funded by corporate heads to create workers for the companies.  Media organizations are allowed to own television stations, radio stations and newspapers in the same cities, something formerly against the law.  They have consolidated all the information and entertainment we enjoy and divide us with wedge issues like Paula Deen and same sex marriage.  Or divert our attention by making entertainment stories news or focusing on the NBA draft.

This decision is a blatant attempt to disenfranchise Black and Brown people.  There is a method to this madness and this method has been in place a lot longer than any of us would care to admit.  There is a clear and present danger (to borrow from Tom Clancy) to U.S. citizens of color and we would be well to heed it. The saying goes “Those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it.”   Truer words, in this instance, have never been spoken.

Public Transportation

I love public transportation!  There, my secret is out.  However everyone who knows me knows I love public transportation.  My mom says I would ride the bus to China if I could and she’s right.  I’ve ridden public transportation in cities across the US and in other countries.  At home in Chicago, I get in my favorite seat when I can and read.  I don’t have to battle with traffic, the endless stopping and starting.  No traffic lights, honking horns, slow walking people and crazy driving cabbies.  I can rest, relax and leave the driving to someone else.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

On the other hand, I can’t stand many of the riders.  If you ride public transportation as much as I do, you’ll recognize these people and why they bug the living hell out of me.  There are rules of courtesy that all who ride public transportation should adhere to and if you can’t abide the rules, then don’t get on the bus.

First there are the hustlers.  Now I respect anyone who hustles for a buck as much as the next person.  I just don’t want you to hustle me.  Riding the bus or the train is restful and relaxing for me and I don’t want to be jarred out of my peace by a group of rappers or someone selling a chapbook or begging for a church or preaching.  It’s much too much in the morning and irritating as hell at the end of a long day.

The loud talkers are next.  You know the ones.  Everybody has to be privy to their conversation and when giving them a look of distain, they want to know why you’re in their business.  You don’t mean to be but if they weren’t so loud, no one would hear their business.  That also goes for those folks talking on cell phones.  Trains are noisy and no one can carry on a decent conversation while riding the train so don’t do it.  Wait until you can hear and speak without yelling at the top of your lungs.

I can’t stand people with too much luggage or stuff blocking the aisles.  Buses in Chicago have an area for passengers in wheelchairs, walkers and strollers.  The seat lift and the wheelchairs or strollers lock into place.  Use those seats!  Don’t sit on the seat and put the walker or stroller in the middle of the aisle while people attempt to squeeze by.  It’s rude and it’s stupid.  If you have too much stuff to carry and place on your lap on the bus, get a ride, get a cab or call a friend.  Same thing goes for those with so much luggage, they take up seats on the train.  I realize taking public transportation to the airport is cost effective and great but if you have that much luggage, you need to travel in private.  And I will not stand up so your luggage can sit.  Deal with it.  Finally, you folks with backpacks.  Take them off.  It’s almost impossible to walk down the aisle when multiple people are all wearing backpacks.  I take mine off before I get on the bus or train so others will be able to board.  It’s only courteous to do so.

This goes for the folks who stand in the front of the bus.  Segregation is over and everyone can ride in the front of the back of the bus.  Standing at the front of the bus blocking others from getting on or off the bus is not only discourteous, it’s just stupid.  Very few blind people ride public transportation so we can all see you.  If your need to be seen is that bad, find a shrink and have a long chat about self-esteem.  And if you are standing by the driver due to fear, let it go.  If something breaks out on the bus, the driver will not protect you.  It’s every man for himself at that point.

Speaking of courtesy, my final rant is for those folks who seem to think they are at home when sitting on the bus.  They cross their legs in the aisle like they’re sitting on Letterman’s couch.  When you bump up against their foot, they try to give you a withering look.  I simply say “Move your foot.  This is public space.” and push my way through.  Public transportation is not the place to be seductive.  Do it on your own time and your own space.  

If you can’t catch someone in someplace where people are out to be caught, maybe you need to rethink your bait.

What WOULD Jesus Do?

WWJD?  How often have you seen this on a bracelet or a t-shirt or on a bumper sticker?  I've seen it thousands of times and I wonder why we are contemplating the question.  The questions we need to ask as a society are:  Who would Jesus kill?  Who would Jesus leave homeless?  Who would Jesus starve?  You get the point.

This country considers itself to be a Christian nation.  In God We Trust is the motto on our currency.  In court, witnesses are asked to swear on a Bible.  Yet this Christian nation killed the native people who were here.  It grew and prospered on a system of slavery.  It usurped land from Mexico and is angry that Mexicans actually want to come back to their original lands.  What form of Christianity is this?  Certainly not the one we espouse to believe in.  History bears out these facts.

Yet it would be so easy to chastise this country (and others) for the ills it has and continues to perpetrate on the world in the name of God.   Extremists Muslims kill hundreds of innocent people with bombs in the name of Allah.  The US continues to kill hundreds in a war that was based on a lie.  Women and children are raped and murdered in the name of Yahweh in Darfur.  Do we believe this is what Jesus had in mind when he asked us to love our neighbors as ourselves?

We know the answer to the questions above is no one.  Jesus would kill no one.  Jesus would leave no one homeless or sick or starving.  So why are we continually asking WWJD?  We all know the answer.  He would do exactly what we are not doing.  He would speak for those who have no voice.  He would let the government know that all life is precious.  He would work to make sure everyone had shelter, healthcare and food.  He would not rest until all was put right. 

We know what Jesus would do.  The question to ask is what will you do?

A Nation of Immigrants

This week Congress is scheduled to vote on an amendment to the immigration bill.  I will admit that I haven’t really kept up with all the issues pertaining to immigration so I’m hardly in a position to offer sage advice.  It would seem, however, that a great many others who are in a similar situation are offering their two cents.  So I feel secure in adding mine.  My advice about this is simple – leave folks alone and let folks in.

That was quick, wasn’t it?  Why? You might be asking, should the US let folks in and leave the folks already here alone?  Simple answer – we invited folks here.  You’re probably asking the next question of when did we invite folks here.  Simple answer again – the lady in the New York harbor invites people here and has been since she was placed in the harbor in October of 1886.  Lady Liberty has inspired millions to come to this country declaring:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

These words, taken from The New Colossus, a poem written by American poet Emma Lazurus, are engraved on a bronze plaque mounted inside the lower level of the statue. These words have been echoed around the world.  These words give hope to people everywhere, people who feel as though they can actually have the life they dream of if they could only have a chance.  These words offer people all over that chance.  How could we make such an offer and then renege on the promise?

It never ceases to amaze me when I hear some people say “they” should go back to their own country.  If that’s the case, almost everyone I know should be on a plane or boat going back to their ancestral countries.  This country is a country of immigrants.  How else can we explain celebrating St. Patrick’s Day (Irish) or Octoberfest (German), Bastille Day (France) or Columbus Day (Italian)?  In Chicago, city offices and schools are closed on Pulaski Day (Polish).  We spend an inordinate amount of time celebrating holidays that historically celebrate our connection to other countries and we don’t give it another thought.  Why on earth would we deny others the opportunity to have what we ourselves have benefitted from for decades?

Besides when you think about all those immigrants who came here by boat, what’s the harm in allowing people to come to America by land?  After all, those Mexicans crossing the border are simply coming back home.  They don’t have to board a plane or a boat to get here.  They walk.

Coming home? you say.  Yes, coming home.  In the 1800’s Mexico extended into many areas that are part of the US including Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and parts of Texas and California.  Much land was lost as a result of the Mexican-American War (1846-1848).  Since that time, the U.S. government has been pushing native Mexicans further and further south and west.  The generations that follow have been answering the call to return to the land of their ancestors and stake their claim in land that was lost through no fault of their own.

The other argument I hear often is they infamous “they.”  You’ve heard it.  They are taking our jobs.  They are overrunning the country.  They come here and get benefits they don’t deserve.  They don’t pay taxes.  They have anchor babies.  They should not be allowed to be citizens.  They are dirty.  They have too many children.  They are responsible for us not getting fair wages.  They will do anything for money.  They, they, they.

I’ve heard it time and time again.  And my answer to the “they” is equally simple.  So what!  If “they” are taking our jobs, “they” are doing the jobs so many of us don’t want to do.  Many Americans believe they themselves are too good to bus tables in a restaurant.  Americans no longer want to work as gardeners or landscapers.  Americans will not work as day laborers or work in a sweaty, dank warehouse.  But “they” are.  Because “they” know what it is like to live without, be without and “they” are willing to work hard and long to make a living. 

I can’t begin to tell you how often I’ve heard the “they” argument and then asked the person making the argument if he/she would be willing to work as a bus boy or day laborer.  The answer is always an emphatic “hell, no.”  “Why should I?”  “I’m from here.  Why should I work for less money?”  Why indeed.  Maybe you should work because you need to and pride doesn’t get the bills paid.  That sense of entitlement means nothing when rent is due or when your children are hungry.  It is that sense of entitlement that separates “they” from us.  “They” do have that sense of entitlement.  “They” simply know that if they work hard, they will get some measure of reward from their labors and “they” are grateful for that chance.  “They” will not do anything to jeopardize that reward and if means outworking you, that’s exactly what “they” will do.

There are so many things wrong with this country.  Issues our government should concern itself with like the monetary debt we owe to Japan and other countries, wars that are sucking up more and more resources, 50 million people with no healthcare, public schools that are pipelines to prisons, an environment that is being contaminated on a daily basis and crime.  Why is our government spending so much time on keeping people out when we invited them in?

Americans have become so entitled and racist and afraid that we’ve forgotten our greatest strength.  It is that influx of people to a country taken away from its native people and opened up to everyone around the world that made this nation great.  Have we forgotten that it was immigrants who built this country?  Have we forgotten the many cultures that have made us great?  Have we forgotten that we export the promise of freedom and liberty around the world and then get angry when someone takes us up on that promise?

Yes, we’ve conveniently forgotten.  But we don’t have to.  July 4^th will soon be upon us.  While watching the parades and enjoying the fireworks, remember what makes this country great.  Welcome an immigrant because in a different time and a different place, that immigrant was you.

50 Shades of Crap

During my recent hospital stay, my brother asked if I had read 50 Shades of Grey.  “No.  You know I don’t read romance.  Have you?”  “Yes, I have and I think you should give it a read.  You might find it interesting.”  That was how I lost four days which I will never get back nor will I trust my brother’s reading recommendations especially when he says you might find it interesting. 

I started the book on a Wednesday afternoon.  I can recount what worse during my stay.  Of the hospital bed, the endless giving of blood, hospital food, the reading 50 Shades of Grey was hands down the worst.

For those of you who are unaware, this book is details a woman’s coming of age story with a young, rich, handsome man who is addicted to bondage and domination.  I have nothing against bondage, domination and submission.  I’ve even played with it a little myself.  What I have a problem with is someone with very little talent becoming a cultural icon in the literary world and a symbol of women’s liberation as the clichés in her book run wild and free.  I’ve grown accustomed to untalented people making waves in the worlds of music, television and movies.  However it pains me when this happens with books.  It’s like mixing Kool-Aid into champagne.

The main reason why this book caused such a stir was because the subject of bondage, domination and sex are generally written by men with very little regard for the women except as vessels for semen.  The idea that a woman would write a book with graphic sex scenes not dripping with romance seems to have come as quite a shock.  In addition, this book with its mature subject matter made all the “legitimate” bestseller lists.  

I came of age when the women’s movement was gaining widespread support and visibility.  Women were burning bras, marching against pornography shops in Times Square, demonizing Hugh Hefner and debating the legalization of abortion.  That is why I’m finding it so hard to understand why 50 Shades is such a phenomenon.  Has no one read Xaviera Hollander’s The Happy Hooker or saw the movie? Did everyone miss Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying?  Has anyone read Pauline Reage’s The Story of O which explored similar subjects?  These books were radical for their time because most people never seemed or wouldn’t admit to the fact that women enjoy sex in all its incarnations and women actually wrote these books.  People act as if this book was the first novel to delve into one of the lesser discussed areas of sexuality when in actuality it is following a trail that has already been blazed.

None of the books I referenced are great literature.  They will never replace D.H. Lawrence’s Women in Love or James Baldwin’s Another Country or any other great work that explores sexual morays.  What these books ask us to question is how far are we willing to explore for pleasure, if pleasure and pain are co-dependent and what is normal.  I have no standard answers to those questions.  I honestly believe no one does and if someone says they do, they also have a bridge for sale.

What I can answer is that we all ask these questions and the answers are as varied as the people who ask them.  There is no wrong or right.  There just is.  Maybe that was the whole point of 50 Shades.  A good idea poorly executed.

I might just send my tattered copy of The Story of O to E.L. James.  If she’s going to write about submission, it’s best to submit to a master.  Or get your butt whipped in the process.

Lessons of The Housewives Part 1

One of my guilty pleasures is watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta.  I know all the arguments surrounding the show.  That it’s a show that panders to the worst in us.  It shows Black women in a less than flattering light.  It’s fluff about women, weaves, wedgies and wars.  Still, I love this show although I don’t broadcast it.  Guess you all know now.  Sunday night I sit with a glass of wine and watch what unfolds.

Regardless of how you may feel about the RHOA (and I’m sure there are a lot of opinions), I watch first for the sheer entertainment value.  For the first time, television is giving a platform to the type of Black women I know.  My friends are not rich, swaddled in designer clothes, driving high class cars, wearing expensive jewelry, swinging their hair and living large.  My friends are almost as broke as I am, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul.  A treat for us is buying getting a scoop of ice cream from Oberweis instead of Baskin-Robbins.  But the attitude these women and my friends share is right on.

You must be wondering what I find great about this show, other than the finery and disputes.  First I like the way they parent.  Although the children are obviously pampered, they don’t seem to be spoiled.  The women who have children are involved in their kid’s lives.  The kids are well behaved and even when one poses a problem, Mom is true to form as a Black woman by being firm, loving, scolding and encouraging – whatever is necessary at the time.  Not one woman claims her children as their best friends.  Each one is determined that their child knows who Mama is and what she is about.  Mama may be loving and supportive but she is definitely NOT a friend.

These women are built like Black women.  Surely you’ve seen the shows where women look like stick figures but not the RHOA.  They have big butts and big thighs.  They look like the women I know.  Even the housewives who were models are not skin and bones.  The wives all seem to be fairly healthy and comfortable in their skin and their bodies.  This is a very important message for Black girls and Black women who are struggling with the images they see in today’s media.

Each housewife in a relationship has a real relationship.  There is no make believe romance or friendship.  When the couples argue, they argue.  Relationships ebb and flow which is the true nature of things.  No fairy tale, everything is all right all the time type of relationships but real messy, heartbreaking and happy relationships.  The way we know real relationships to be.

The RHOA extend moments to their families.  Parents, children, baby daddies, siblings, in-laws, aunts and uncles all have a place in the housewives’ lives.  This is very indicative of Black folk.  My husband I daily talk with one family member or another.  Sometimes more than one and more than once a day.  There is no such thing as the nuclear family.  There is just family.

The final reason I enjoy this show is that each housewife has achieved a level of achievement on her own.  Almost each of these women started out fairly standard from a working class background.  They came from folks who had to work hard for a living. The ladies are all independent working women with active, successful careers.  I take pleasure watching the different ventures upon which they embark.  I celebrate their successes and empathize when there is failure.  They are smart enough to know their strengths and weaknesses.  They are confident in their abilities.  They are determined in reaching their goals and work hard to do so.  They all have multiple enterprises and they all strive for success but accept failure without drama.  When I was a girl, I read about successful Black women but rarely saw any reflection of that on television or the movies.  Every week, I see Black women being entrepreneurs and businesswomen.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

There are so few shows that feature Black women.  Almost all of them are reality shows.  Girlfriends and Living Single are on in syndication.  Like the housewives, these women portrayed successful Black women with a wide range of talents.  However as much as I liked these shows, there was a part of me that realized this was a scripted show.  Scripted shows are important in the way people are shown.   But is has always been difficult for Hollywood to figure out how to depict them without resorting to stereotypes.  Yes, the RHOA act stereotypically in a number of situations but those stereotypes are balanced by what the women represent to the world. 

I can’t vouch for the reality of everything that goes on with the RHOA.  I would guess that some of it is manipulated.  But if it is, I will gladly accept this instead of watching the lone Black friend of the White lead who has no life, no family and seemingly knows no other Black people.

So join me on the couch some Sunday evening and watch an episode. And don’t forget to bring the wine.