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.