Out of the mouth of a four year-old

Nowadays little black girls are bombarded with images that the media holds in high regards; the European standard of beauty. Television, and magazines alike showcase images of blonde, blue-eyed, artificial breasts, and rail thin bodies. The message often conveyed is, "you're not beautiful unless you look like this." Rarely do they see images of themselves in their natural state. Oftentimes they see a black girl with weaved extensions down her back. When asked, who's the prettiest black female on the celebrity scene? Beyonce, and Halle Berry are always at the top of the list. Black beauty comes in all shades from dark chocolate to damn-near white. Unfortunately it's the lighter side of the spectrum that gets props and adoration.

I recently witnessed my four year-old cousin push and taunt another cousin, who happened to be five. The four year-old told the five year-old that she was "black" and "ugly," and for those reasons she didn't like her. Mind you this four year-old told me that she only played with white dolls because they were prettier. This upset me terribly and what's more disturbing, when I told the mother about it she merely shrugged it off.

Imagine a beautiful four year-old girl already ingrained with the notion that black is ugly and inferior. This disturbed me so that I am making it my mission to teach our little black girls self-esteem. Don't mean to sound racist but when I hear a little girl in a sense saying that everything she is has no value then I have to interact. I don't want her to grow up with an inferiority complex and then pass that on to her children and children's children.

I believe self-esteem starts by embracing everything beautiful about yourself; your culture, your history. To be honest, I don't see anything positive in the media, therefore it has to begin at home and if it's not starting at home, it has to be taught in school or church. I'm on a mission to teach my children to not be influenced by the images they see on television or in magazines. Their culture is a rich culture, my daughter will know that black dolls are just as beautiful as any dolls, her skin is not inferior and she should never be ashamed of who she is.

Valleys Of Neptune

Awaiting a New Arrival

A lot of people may not relate, but those of you can will empathize with me. It's 3:00 a.m. in the morning and I'm up bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I fell asleep around 11:00 but for the past four hours I've been getting up to pee. Now I know you're asking yourself, "Where is she going with this?" The title should've given it away, I'm 33 weeks pregnant with my second child and boy oh boy is he sitting like pretty boy Floyd on momma's bladder.

Not to mention, he's a night owl who likes to boogey woogey with his kicks, twists, and turns. Sometimes I'll get up and read to him to try and soothe him. Other times, I don't bother...a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do. A week ago my OB informed me that my cervix is short. It's only one centimeter...It was 3 centimeters around the same time with my daughter...so she put me on bed rest for the next three weeks. Right now, I'm trying to take it easy and for the sake of my unborn son, get as much bed rest as possible which is kind of hard when I'm getting up every five minutes to pee.

My son's due date is scheduled for May 1, but at the rate he's going my husband and I along with his big sister may be kissing his cheeks sometime around Resurrection Sunday (Easter for those of you who believe in the Easter Bunny). Anyway, in the meantime, I'm going to sit and relax, pray and meditate as I await my new arrival.

Here's to You, Jacklyn

She was the epitome of class. Educated, self-reliant, outspoken, a true gem in every sense of the word. In the three years I spent as her assistant I learned the importance of being discreet, business etiquette, direct deposit as opposed to standing in line at the bank, sisterhood, and self esteem. She was successful but always grounded. She could have boasted how she was a key board member of several businesses in town. She owned real estate. She was president of the graduate chapter of her sorority and served as the sorority's undergraduate adviser. She drove a cute sporty red convertible Nissan 240. Her clothing wasn't designer but it was conservative, stylish, never flashy. She always wore her shoulder length hair in a french role, always neat and not a single hair out of place. The thing I remember most about her was her laugh, sort of a goofy kind of laugh, nothing loud or obnoxious, but a really cute goofy laugh and she was laughing all the time.
Her door was always open, so students and faculty alike gravitated to her office. The three years I spent in her office flew by along with my college years. I graduated and moved out of town but on occasion I would call or come by to see her and catch her up on the latest gossip. As time went on we lost touch and communicated with an occasional email. Although she kept her personal life very personal, I witnessed her involvement in a couple of dead end relationships. It wasn't until after I graduated and left town that she eventually fell in love and married the man of her dreams. They were a beautiful, successful couple. Then one day I got a phone call from my mom.
"Guess what?" I dread when she starts off the conversation with that.
"What?" I answered, "Jackie's husband died today."
"Wow." Was all I could say. I was so hurt for her that I couldn't pick up the phone to give her a call. I replayed over a million times what I would say to her but I just couldn't pick up the phone. Fast forward one year to the day.
"Are you sitting down?" It's mom again and I know she's about to break some more bad news.
"Jackie had a heart attack....She's dead."
"Dead? Jackie Merchant?"
My heart sank as I thought of Jackie, lifeless, it just didn't seem right. She was healthy, how could she have a heart attack? I always pictured Jackie growing old in age, I never imagined her dying so young, she was only 44.
It's been nearly 6 years since her death. I still think about her and sometimes I find it hard to drive by the University and not be able to drop in and talk to her. I miss hearing her laugh and I hate that she's not around to see the positive influence she's had on my life.

The Importance Of...

You would think as a writer I should be pouring out daily inspirations or confessions of the latest goings-on in my life. While maintaining a career, a healthy marriage and mothering an active 20 month-old, writing, for the most part, gets put on the back burner. Some people can manage to do all, equally well, and I applaud them. I'm just not one of them. Right now I'm sacrificing the writing to concentrate on what's really important, my family. I lavish my husband and daughter with my full attention. As a mother and wife I make it a daily habit of making my home a pleasant one. You won't find beds unmade, clothes stacked to the ceiling, and rings around the toilets. I make it my business to have dinner cooked and everything in order.

Now, I don't leave myself out of the equation. My idea of relaxation is a getaway to the spa or a trip somewhere with the hubby or other family members. Somedays I just like to curl up on the sofa with soft music in the background and get into a really good book.

Maybe one day, I'll get the inspiration to churn something out worth reading. Since the publications of my last novels, "Mile High Confessions, " and "Happily Never After," I feel my writing has since moved in another direction. A lot of it has to do with my changing interests. Some of it may be contributed to my level of maturity. What I thought seemed relevant once, has no significance in my life now. My level of spirituality has grown tremendously. There's more to life than the superficial characters I have often written about in my books. I guess it's okay, if you tend to like that but I feel like taking my characters and my readers in a new direction now. Stay tuned.

Do You....Really?

The atmosphere at this particularly workplace was already tense in the days leading up to the historical presidential election of 2008. Situations came to a head the day after Obama won. It was a like a funeral, the white employees were absolutely stunned, shocked, dumbfounded whatever adjective you want to use to describe the way they felt. They walked past their black co-workers without so much as saying "goodmorning," "hello," or "nice weather we're having." Their stoned faces revealed what they had been thinking all along.

Fast forward to smoke break in a loaded dock area where most of the heated debates took place. Employees black and white alike gathered there and for ten, fifteen however many minutes it took they voiced their opinions. The blacks usually sided with Obama, the whites, sided with McCain and Palin. Well today, a white employee just laid it out there for his black co-worker. For five years they had been cordial to each other, gone out to lunch a few times, even met up with others during happy hour a time or two.

"You know," he began after taking a long drag on his cigarette, "I really wished you people would've gone back to Africa a long time ago."

The black co-worker laughed it off, "Aww, you're just mad 'cause we got a brother in the White House now."

"No, I'm serious." The white co-worker said emphatically.

The black co-worker blew out a cloud of smoke and listened as his white co-worker explained his reasons.

"If all black people went back to Africa today the crime rate would be lower, our system would be richer 'cause we wouldn't have to spend money on welfare programs and medicaid. We wouldn't have to worry about Affirmative Action and real estate values would appraise through the roof 'cause none of you would be around to bring the property values down. This would be a wonderful, safe, thriving society."

The black co-worker blew out another cloud of smoke, threw his cigarette butt on the ground and extinguished it on the heel of his steel-toed work book.

"Do You....Really?"

"Yeah, I wish all of you could get on a ship like Noah's Ark and go back and take 'Bama Boy with you."

The black co-worker was brimming but he kept his cool, he didn't want to stoop to the level of his white co-worker. As a Christian he was always taught to take the high road but he couldn't let an incident like this pass without giving a few choice words of his own.

"Imagine America without black people, the economy would shut down. It wouldn't be able to function without us. You know black in America people spend so much money that if they were living on their own country it would be the 9th wealthiest country on the planet? You wouldn't have all these black celebrities with wealth that you look up to like Oprah Winfrey, Bill Cosby, Jay-Z and Beyonce and you know how much money they have."

"So what?" Was all the white co-worker could say, "I don't even like Jay-Z."

"I'm not finished, just imagined if blacks hadn't came over as slaves at all, you wouldn't have traffic lights...your asses would be running over and killing each other. You wouldn't even have the city of Washington DC where all these bullshit laws are made if a black guy hadn't drawn out the survey for the city, hell half the inventions you take for granted around here wouldn't exist."

"I still say America is better off without y'all."

"That's sad," was all the black co-worker could say. Then more thoughts came to mind.

"Imagine right now if all black people went to Africa, today." The black co-worker began, "You wouldn't have all the popular sports that generate money for the economy, existing. You wouldn't have football teams, you wouldn't have basketball teams, boxing, all the big time money athletes would be in Africa. And you know...With all the black athletes in Africa, all the white women are gonna wanna come too."

Thinking About My Peeps This Thanksgiving

Blood is always thicker than water in my book. When you have a large, close-knit family like mine you really don't spend much time with friends. Whenever I go home to visit, I am content just hanging out with my mom, sister, husband, grandparents, uncles, aunts and first cousins.

My family loves to assemble at my grandparent's home where sometimes we throw barbecues, and fish fries for the hell of it. My Uncle Barry will usually surprise us with a wild game catch and most of the time it ends up in his deep fryer. I call his deep fryer a little piece of heaven because it fries everything from rabbit to armadillo (yes armadillo). My hometown, Huntsville is nestled in the piney woods of East Texas and has about 40,000 residents. I consider myself very much a country girl at heart. Thanksgivings in the past you would find me sitting in front a bowl of Grandma's collard greens crumbled up with jiffy cornbread and fried chitterlins (yes fried) with a glass of pineapple-spiked, cherry kool-aid nearby.

My Grandparents are well-known in the community so visitors are always stopping by. Sometimes people we hadn't seen in years would pop up out of the blue to visit a spell. The atmosphere is so welcoming that on occasion they'll have a bite to eat.

This Thanksgiving will be the first without a very special member of the family. My Aunt Jan will be sorely missed. She was the key musician in the family who sometimes loaded up her keyboard and we'd have church right there in living room. When she wasn't playing her keyboard she was throwing down eating at the table. She was only 4'11" so we got a kick out of how much food she piled on her plate. This Christmas and every other holiday will be difficult for us but with each passing year I pray that it will soon get better.

So this year I've decided to do Thanksgiving at my house. We don't do the traditional roasted turkey, instead my mother smokes turkey wings, turkey drumsticks, chicken wings, and pig's feet on the barbecue pit. I tell you the seasoning is sooo good that you find yourself gnawing at the bone with absolutely no shame. Hence another reason why I love being around my family so much. My mother-in-law is in town from Louisiana and she usually cooks rice dressing, a staple for Louisiana natives. It's the eve of Thanksgiving and most of the food is already cooked. Now, I'm just counting down the hours to the minutes to the seconds before I fill my plate with smoked turkey wings, potato salad, cornbread dressing, baked beans, and fried cabbage. God is good.

Your Bravery Will Never Be Forgotten

As you well know, November 11 is Veteran's Day, a day set aside to honor those who have set aside their lives to serve and protect our country. Several of my FB family and friends are members of all branches of the military. I applaud them. I applaud all Veterans for their strength and courage. Not everyone is equipped to take on the task. It takes a special kind of person to want to serve in that capacity. I believe there should be a special place in heaven for our soldiers. As a history buff, I am particularly reminded of the sacrifices made by African American soldiers. From the colored infantry of the 54th Massachusetts, who volunteered at a time when they were still slaves to fight on behalf of the Union; the Buffalo Soldiers who fought in the Spanish American War. The African American soldiers who shed blood during World War I and II, who were treated harsher than the enemies they were set out to fight against and the brothers who perished in the Korean and Vietnam Wars. I am not discounting the sacrifices made by soldiers of other races but an African American soldier should be particularly commended for willing to die for a country that didn't always have their interests at heart. Imagine yourself a young black soldier in Germany during World War II getting ready to see a Josephine Baker concert. Because of your black skin toned you are told to sit behind the white German POW's. How crazy is that? I don't blame Josephine Baker for refusing to perform unless the black soldiers and white soldiers sat together. Again, I applaud all Veterans. Times have changed where women see just as much action as men. They could choose to not enlist, choose to stay home, raise families, or focus on their careers but they don't. They too, put their lives on the line for this country. When I have soldiers on my flights, I make sure they get first-class treatment. If you're at least 18, the first round of drinks are on me. I feel if you are old enough to get permission to kill you can at least have a beer or a cocktail. So to all my Veteran FB friends: Christy Simmons, Willie Hightower, Lanita Winfrey, Tammy Cole, Kelton Gilbert and countless others...today is your day, celebrate and be proud of your bravery and service. I love you all! Thank you!