fronting: an undoing.

peeling off, peeling out, laying the dumb shit to the side.
seeing myself, wholly, in bright light
not allowing myself to be lost in the crevices between what he says, what she says
slipping through cracks that seem more like caverns
i am no longer willing to be held hostage by image or ego, whether mine or someone else's
coming undone has never been so dope, and i love how it feels
i have started to embrace la loba within.
and for the first time, in a long time, i don't feel the overwhelming urge to tattoo or pierce, to cut my hair or get my eyebrows waxed.
i'm fine how i am, where i am
because i'm meant to just do what i do
there's nothing to stop me
no one to slow me down

the only one in the way of this is me. and i've decided to move on over.

knowledge of self: a stream of consciousness.

understand me when i say i've had a breakthrough. about who i am, about where i am, about where i'm headed, and who i'm stepping into being.  i don't worry so much anymore, because i've never been this certain. i've never been this self-possessed.  i've never, in my life, been more aware of one simple fact: i'm the truth. i am the best thing that ever happened to me.  i have figured it all out: i am equipped with every tool i need to get to the next place, to do the next thing, to take the best care of myself and all of my needs.  when i really listen to myself and trust my own intuition, i am unstoppable.

i am bigger, better, stronger, and flyer than anyone's imagination -- my own included.  i will not be stopped by anyone else's fear or jealousy of me.

i am a walking miracle. my very existence on this earth is the product of praying grandmothers & my own resilience.  i will not lose. ever.

i am the first born daughter.

the mark i make on this earth will be indelible.

giving words to the unspoken: intimate partner violence.

i am thankful every day that i've never dated someone who has or would hit me.  that is a terror i've never known, and pray that i never will.  i do know what intimate partner violence can do. the losses of asia, latoyia, and san-dee serve as reminders to us all that women die because of intimate partner violence (also known as domestic violence, or domestic abuse). the very idea of the typical domestic abuse victim is seared into the consciousness of many people in the united states: she's timid, she's probably very pretty, she is attacked without having provoked her mate, and she always goes back.  the attacker is always someone who's been emasculated to some degree -- maybe his education level isn't what hers is (or anyone else's, like being a 10th grade dropout when everyone else is at least a high school grad), or he's dyslexic, or whatever.  it's mister from the color purple concentrated, it's laurence fishburn as ike turner, it's every lifetime movie shitbag boyfriend joined together like voltron.  

it's never the sparkling smile of chris brown that spits threats or curse words, bites you or calls you names.  it's never rihanna's pretty face that is pummeled with fists. it's always some nameless or faceless couple on "cops." it's always someone whose name has been changed to protect her because he's stalking her. (and it's always a hetero couple, but that's another issue for another time.)  and this seems to be the root of the problem to me: celebrity, or fame, and the perception of "our" stars as anything other than human.  they are not necessarily regarded as human, even in times of tragedy (see: the losses jennifer hudson's, bill cosby's, and the late marlon brando's close family members).  they are still these perfectly unreal creations -- half of "their" public's imagination, and half illusion borne of spin doctors.  celebrity is a tricky thing.  it's fleeting, but so demanding. what does this pressure cooker life do to someone who's barely a maturing child when they enter it, and is simply fortunate to be a functioning adult if/ when they leave it?

i ask this question because i don't believe for one minute that this is a black and white situation (meaning chris, the aggressor, bears all the fault or that rihanna, the victim, instigated her own ass kicking).  i take into account that chris witnessed domestic abuse for as many as 6 years of his life (that's 1/3 of his time on earth, roughly).  i understand that the highly invasive reports that are being shared pretty much confirm that rihanna was upset over a potential (or continued) infidelity on chris's part. i understand that it's likely that brown no longer wished to be in a relationship with her -- but check this out: you can end a relationship with someone without hitting them.  you can make your point clear without fists and bitemarks.  

my concerns are for the privacy and safety of both of these young people. there are threats being made against both of them, there's a lot of hearsay and conjecture. there are terrible jokes being made. it is now a verb to chris brown someone -- to beat their ass.  unacceptable.  the facts are known only by the persons who were present for the incident that was reported to the police.  that's not for any of us to learn about or gossip about. this is deeper than whether someone gave someone herpes, or whether someone's cheating on someone else.

it is indicative of the fact that we all have work to do: work to heal, work to grow, work to end cycles. violence is never okay in a relationship, regardless of who throws the first punch.  intimate partner violence exists when women hit men, when men hit each other, and when women hit women.  intimate partner violence exists when we are unable or unwilling to talk about what hurts or bothers us, and when we don't understand that it's never okay to strike someone you love.  unless it's self defense, it is wrong. always wrong.

this interview that jay smooth did with elizabeth mendez berry speaks much to why it doesn't matter specifically that it's a celebrity dealing with intimate partner violence. 

a farewell kiss

because we have to send him off right.

i figured these would hurt the most, no matter where they hit him.

i support the DREAM act.

it's quite simple:

people with the opportunity to advance themselves tend to be functioning, contributing members of society. if we have fewer of them, we develop something called social decline.  social decline means fewer teachers, fewer qualified persons to replace retirees, brain drain in college towns and states w/ great education systems, and all around suckage.

i don't want the united states to suck because people who came here as undocumented minors aren't allowed to improve their lives. especially if they actively seek the opportunity to improve their situations -- isn't this why parents would risk legal action by the US government in the first place? to see their kids improve their situations?  isn't that what any parent wants for their child(ren)? if we're allowed to go to the polls and vote away another person's rights, why can't we influence our lawmakers to grant rights to others? the right to incur obscene amounts of student debt and then work their asses off to pay it off? the right to go into the armed forces to serve in whatever capacity necessary?  there are undocumented minors who want to do this. so why say no?

to encourage the obama administration to pass the DREAM act, click here. to read about the DREAM act and the people who'd benefit from it, go here.

five things you can do right now about the oscar grant shooting.

(link courtesy of jay smooth)

Oscar Grant, an unarmed man, was killed by an Oakland police officer. Here are five things (compiled by Makani Themba-Nixon) that you should do right now to respond to the senseless death of this 22 year old Black man. Video footage of the shooting recently surfaced.

1. Digg the story so that the national media can pick up on it

2. Contact BART Director Carole Ward Allen and demand that 1) the officers involved be taken off duty without pay and charged and fully prosecuted; 2) there be an independent investigation of the shooting that includes a review of training and hiring practices; and 3) BART establish an independent residents’ review board for the police Call her at 510-464-6095 or email the BART Directors at BoardofDirectors@bart.gov

3. Call the BART police to complain about the officers’ conduct and demand immediate action: Internal Affairs: Sergeant David Chlebowski 510.464.7029,dchlebo@bart.gov; Chief of Police: Gary Gee 510.464.7022, ggee@bart.gov

Call them toll free at 877.679.7000 and press the last four digits of the phone number you wish to reach.

4. Talk it up on your blogs, networks and talk radio shows (call Michael Baisden 877-6BADBOY or Rev. Al, etc. to get this on the national radar)

5. Stay tuned for other actions, protests, etc., especially if you are in the Bay.

i am sean bell.

i got this video from jo, via a post at dawson's ink. i give thanks for stacey muhammad's project. i'm really quite speechless. teach the babies. save them. save us. & please share this video. peace.

things are moving around

more rapidly than i could have requested or imagined

& i'm going along with the change, instead of fighting it tooth & nail
because this is what i asked for.

here i am, on the edge of bliss.

some words on the winter solstice.

This Is a Unique Solstice
by Patricia Diane Cota-Robles

The Winter Solstice is considered one of the most powerful times of the year by many cultures around the world. In the Northern Hemisphere this celestial event usually occurs on December 21st. The timing of the solstice this year will be Sunday, December 21, at 7:04 a.m. EST, 4:04 a.m. PST, or 12:04 p.m. Universal Time.

The Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year, and it heralds the initial impulse of the annual return of the Sun, the Light, to the Earth. This year the spiritual effects of the solstice will be more powerful than ever before. This is due to the incredible influx of Light that is pouring into the planet through the heartfelt pleas of people everywhere.

Humanity is experiencing the most intensified purging of the economic system, and the various other social structures that do not operate with a consciousness of the highest good for all concerned, that we have ever endured. This is a necessary cleansing that is paving the way for the physical manifestation of the patterns of perfection for the New Earth. The difficult part of this process is that the masses of Humanity do not see the bigger picture. Millions of people see only the painful situations that are happening in their lives. As a result of this limited perception, they feel overwhelmed and hopeless. This is very hard to observe, but it is not all bad.

After our fall from Grace aeons ago, we became so numb to the discord in our lives that we just muddled through our Earthly experiences accepting mediocrity as a natural state of being. We fell into the terrible habit of using pain as our motivator. Unless we were writhing in agony, we did not feel that it would help to take action or to ask for assistance from our Father-Mother God. For millions of people on Earth, prayer and an invocation for Light from our God Parents occurs only when they are brought to their knees by their life situations. This is exactly what is happening at this time for millions of people all over the world.

The Company of Heaven is revealing to us now that more people than ever before are reaching a critical moment in their life experiences. Consequently, millions of people are asking God for Divine Intervention. Many of them are praying for the very first time. This powerful event, in unison with the millions of Lightworkers who daily invoke the Light of God, has created the greatest influx of Light the Earth has ever experienced during a Winter Solstice. This Heavenly assistance will greatly empower the patterns of perfection for the New Earth, and it will accelerate our individual hopes and dreams by leaps and bounds.

Beginning now, and continuing for the next 72 hours, focus intently on the vision of what you want to manifest in your life and the lives of your loved ones. Focus on your visions for the New Earth and the harmony and balance you wish for all Humanity. This is a rare opportunity, and we are being called to action by our God Selves—our I AM Presence—and the Company of Heaven. Be sure your visions and your intentions always reflect our Oneness and the Reverence of ALL Life.

This event will pave the way for a God Victorious New Year. 2009 is going to be a year of miraculous changes. These changes have been in the works for quite some time, and now we are going to experience them tangibly in the world of form. These changes will not happen by chance. They will occur through the unified efforts of Lightworkers all over the world and the Company of Heaven.

I know there are a lot of dire predictions regarding the global economy and the challenges Humanity is going through, but we are not the victims of circumstance. We are the cocreators of our Earthly experiences. If we do not like the way things are going in our lives, we have the ability to change our circumstances. This is what we have been preparing for aeons to accomplish—and now is the time.

As the Hopi prophecy states: “We are the ones we have been waiting for.”

2009 numerically is an 11 year. Eleven is the master number that reflects the transformation of the physical into the Divine. The archetypes for the patterns of perfection for the New Earth were securely anchored into the physical plane in August 2008. In 2009, through our creative faculties of thought and feeling, we will expand these patterns into our daily experiences.

The purging and cleansing of the obsolete behavior patterns that have caused the maladies existing in Humanity’s lives will continue. But the wonderful news is, as these old archetypes crumble away, the expansion of the patterns of perfection for the New Earth will begin to manifest in ways that will bring joy, fulfillment and great expectations into the hearts and minds of people everywhere.

There is a new sense of hope flooding through the hearts of people around the world. Humanity’s hope is magnetizing Legions of Light from the Realms of Perfection into the atmosphere of Earth in ways we have never experienced. The Divine Intent of these Messengers of God is to assist Humanity to move quickly through the cleansing process so that the bliss of the New Earth will manifest in the twinkling of an eye.

2009 is going to be whatever we cocreate together. Do not let this opportunity pass you by.

today is transgender day of remembrance.

all over the world, people are saying prayers, lighting candles, speaking up & speaking out to remember the lives lost. i'm really not sure how to put the words together for my rage. every day, someone is victimized because of the fear, ignorance, and hatred faced by our transgendered brothers & sisters. every day, there are snickers & stares, snide remarks & downright hateful words that pepper the experiences of people like my transgendered friends. it's not fair. because someone dares to be him or herself fully & unabashedly, some other folks feel its their right (?) to chip away at that person's dignity? no. not buying it. if you're afraid, continue to stay in your scared corner. if you're confused, untangle your misunderstandings. anything else is a threat to the safety & sanity of transgendered people in our communities. at the end of the day, what did duanna, teish, sanesha, angie, or anyone else do to you except live their fucking lives?
there is no answer, because there is no excuse. there is no excuse, because there is no justification. there is no justification, because it's not right. period.

respect the lives of others.
respect yourself enough not to be that person who is complicit in the hateful speech and actions.
respect yourself enough to be brave enough to defend and create safe spaces for transgendered people.

in the names of those lost, those who struggle, those who stand to fight: i remind you all that safety is not a privilege but a right.

TDOR links:

remembrance and action (angrybrownbutch)
a heart unites. a fear divides. (the unapologetic mexican)
ten years - 400 dead . . . and counting (transgriot)
the quick and the dead & shall not perish (taking steps)
for teish cannon (cripchick's weblog)

so much things to say.

the united states has elected its 44th president; the first black president. wow. i'm feeling quite amazed by the fact. i have always doubted the united states' potential in the way of destroying systematic isms and phobias that loomed like specters over the very existences of its citizens. even now, it may seem that the united states will not ever move beyond the constrictions of the isms which it so clearly runs on. the glass ceilings exist at different levels in various facets of life for people who live in the united states and are oft-accepted as the norm by those who dare not even tap, let alone try to break them.

i have always lived with limitations on the possibilities of black folks.

in my lifetime, the legal measures that have hindered black people have not always been as plain as jim crow-era laws. instead, they impact black folks disproportionately (e.g. minimum crack possession laws vs. minimum coke possession laws) and don't get the same attention as police brutality cases, mistreatment in retail stores or discrimination regarding housing or jobs. socially, as i am certain we are all aware, the limitations placed on black people are numerous and have shown themselves in all possible arenas. i'm not alone when i say that i've been discriminated against for being black and/ or for being a woman. that is not to say that white people are sole owners of discrimination against other groups, as discrimination is a symptom of the root illness of binary thinking. the "us vs. them" paradigm is inescapable in this society. we see it in everything from sporting rivalries to our very own neighbors who may be the same race, but from a different nation (black americans vs. caribbean black folks vs. continental african black folks). the election of barack obama suggests, at the very least, that american voters have moved past the politics of exclusion when it comes to whether or not a black man could be elected to the office of commander-in-chief.

but, along with this major shift came the removal of and encroachment upon the rights of others. in california, florida, arkansas, and arizona, voters (who may or may not have come out to support barack obama) decided that openly gay people in their states should not have the same rights as persons who are or perceived as heterosexual. voters in california, via prop 8 (aka prop hate) repealed the law allowing same-sex couples to be married & receive all rights afforded to opposite-sex married couples. this was not a denial of rights, but a removal altogether. in arkansas, a ballot measure was passed preventing unmarried cohabiting couples (both opposite-sex and same-sex) from adopting children or caring for foster children. the florida marriage amendment defines marriage specifically as a union between a man and a woman, stating that no other unions would be recognized as valid by the state. arizona voters also passed a similar amendment to the state constitution, called the marriage protection amendment.

the fact that any voter feels that she or he possesses the right to restrict the rights of other fully-functioning adult members of society makes me sick to my stomach. barring legitimate threats to the public safety (e.g. those who traffic humans, persons who are physically violent within their communities), none of us has the right to go push a button or pull a lever (or check off a freaking box on a piece of paper) to limit the freedoms of others. these measures are plainly set forth to target the rights of same-sex people. i could blame right-wing evangelical socially conservative christians, i could blame the fact that the amount of money spent to campaign for the passing of these measures far surpasses the amount of money available to the opposition (specifically in the case of prop hate). but, there's no one cause. simply, those who voted in favor of these amendments felt that it is their right to limit other autonomous, contributing members of society.

i do not understand what the problem is with same-sex couples marrying or caring for children. i presume that it's because i never understood any arguments against being homosexual, least of all those attached to religious dogma. i don't believe that homosexuality is going to destroy humanity (either by lack of procreation or general 'moral corruptness'). i don't believe that it's wrong to love, or be attracted to someone of the same sex any more than i could ever say it's wrong to be attracted to someone who is not of the same racial makeup as you. long before i was aware of my own queerness, i always questioned how any hetero-identifying person could ever legitimately have a problem with gay people. how could it be anyone else's business what you do as a private citizen in your own home?

if christianity is one's basis for discriminating against gay people (and it is discrimination, don't get it twisted), i have to ask how that's a legitimate basis. i don't question the bible verses referenced in any argument against homosexuality; i question the whole book for reasons that can be discussed later. i question how it's anyone's christian duty to be less concerned with their own goodness as a person of faith than they are with whether or not their neighbor is gay. i question how it's christ-like to disrespect the law of the land by seeking to overturn a law that does not even apply to you; i was always taught that the christian thing to do is to respect the law of the land. i question some of the assertions made: that gay marriage would be taught in schools as normal, that children would be "indoctrinated" in homosexuality, & the outright lie that the obama-biden ticket has ever supported gay marriage. what's christian about making stuff up to win people over to your side? i need to know, most importantly, how one can justify the use of their faith practice as a reason to oppress others. for the people who are anti-racism and are christian: the bible was used to justify chattel slavery of africans in the americas as well as miscegenation laws (see: loving v. virginia). i do not believe that christianity automatically lends itself to oppression. i believe, instead, that some people will pull out all stops and use anything as a tool of persuasion.

i want to know: at what point do you simply understand all other humans to be worthy of the same respect you wish to have? from the teachings on christ i received as a child, the thing that stuck to me was not the miracles he worked, not the quotes that my christian day school classmates regurgitated constantly, but it was the idea that you are supposed to act lovingly towards others. it said nowhere in the bible that you had to be loving to your neighbors only, or only to people who share the same exact values as you. if this were the case (with any faith, not just christianity), i don't think that there would exist charity without verification of the recipients' worldviews. love is limitless, isn't it?

so, i must ask this: if you are willing to limit any of god's children, are you not limiting yourself?

he had a wife. & a girlfriend.

me.

well, they weren't legally wed, as far as i knew. but they had a baby on the way. they shared a lease. that was enough for me. i'm the product of a roaming dick of a father, and as such i've always felt like i had to respect others' exclusivity, even if they didn't. because that meant i respected myself. i prided myself on holding myself above and beyond all of that talk show shit. he said he did, too. but that began to unravel before long. he looked at me too longingly, was too quick to ask me out for drinks after work. he was entirely too quick, with the baby due any day, to ask me flat out, "when's the last time you had some good dick, girl?" i felt like it had to be the booze talking, we had been hanging out in a group setting, and he offered to drive me home clear on the opposite side of the city from where he lived, and we did decide to go cut a rug, and we both worked crazy ass hours, so why not take some time to ourselves to blow off steam? he'd just had too much to drink, and i needed a ride home . . . it was late. taking the bus home in january in philly . . . i wasn't really dressed for night time temperatures, just my work clothes . . .
but i knew he was wrong. he was wrong. he knew better. i knew better. at the time, i was a believer that anyone with 3 years of age on me and the vast life experience he had should have behaved like the mature one. above all, i felt like i had to remind him that he still had something/ someone to go home to. he had a reason not to be out with me at 3 in the morning, and it wasn't either of our obligations to work the next day. there was a baby that they had already named and prepared for. it was her possible entry into active labor. and what did i do?

nothing. let it progress. because i wanted, very badly, to feel admired. i am a sensation junkie. he stimulated my mind more than anything else, did a damn good job of it. most importantly, he represented an impossibly pleasant distraction (oh, the text messages, the myspace wall posts, the crazy ass emails!) from the madness surrounding me. at work. transitioning from my mom's (probably for the last time) to cohabitation with a girlfriend of mine. drama at work. there was so much to process, so much to ignore . . . the endless drinks (and nutritionally deficient "meals" at the bar) impeded the flood of madness that threatened to drown me. i had to move out of the old apartment in north philly and high-tail it to the land of trolleys and ethiopian restaurants. i was having what some may call a spiritual awakening in regard to my study of the yoruba faith. i was learning, growing, changing . . . and still shaking off the vestiges of old beliefs about myself. i don't say this to say that i didn't know what i was doing. i knew, but had no way of gaging the impact on myself. getting to know him was getting old, fast. but i wasn't quite finished. i have this thing where i always have to double and triple check even when i know i'm right in the first place (conversely, i never double-check the possible missteps or bad fucking ideas). so as i double checked and triple checked, it got uglier. things deteriorated.

i learned the hard way that a mutual friend (trust, i now use that phrase lightly) took my confidence in her and turned it into something it wasn't. all of a sudden i, the fiercely independent, perpetually single one was that bitch. hungry, needy, trying to get in anywhere i could for the sake of validation. it was a play upon fears and a major exaggeration of words that, in context, were more consistent with my real self than this skewed portrait she'd painted of me. at the time i wasn't even aware of the weight of it. but i became more clear on it after a while. a bunch of shit she was into, which is completely inconsequential to me at this point, had her acting like she had zero home training.
but, back to me. cuz this is my blog & it's about me.
i was in the early stages of picking the whole mess apart. i didn't wanna fuck him anymore. the one time we messed around left me feeling like anything further would be less than satisfying to me. i had already moved into my new place. i didn't need to vent to anyone anymore about the bobby & whitney ass shit my roommate was into. i didn't need him for the distraction anymore. just as i was figuring out exactly what purpose he served in my life, we had this mindblowingly unilateral conversation (i let it be that way, i know when to shut my mouth) & that was that, for the most part. some other shit popped off months down the line that is not even worthy of note here.
years removed, i've gained a lot of clarity. i've lost contact w/ most of the folks associated with that mess. and i rather enjoy the distance. i have no regrets. i know now: the first time should be the last when it comes to being offended. you can't trust anyone who's afraid of the hair that grows out of her own scalp (at least, i can't). if he's dumb enough to bring you up in his house after the fact, you need to make that the last interaction. follow your gut instinct; call a spade a spade.
above all: no matter what they say or do, they are only human & therefore no more important or special or favored or loved by the most high than you are.

be bold, be red: october 30.

mil gracias a nezua for posting this on umx, and reminding me to begin with!

Be Bold Be Red Goes Viral Loco Visual

Beloved Survivors, Warriors, Allies, Activists, Organizers, Artists, Healers, Visionaries, Sisters and Friends,

In October 2007 people all over the United States gathered physically and in spirit to speak out against violence against women of color. Some of us wore red all day and explained that we were reclaiming and reframing our bodies as a challenge to the widespread acceptance of violence against women of color. Some of us wrote powerful essays about why we were wearing red and posted them on the internet. Some of us gathered with bold and like-minded folks and took pictures, shared poetry and expressed solidarity.

This year, on the first anniversary of the Be Bold Be Red Campaign, we invite you to make your bold stance against the violence enacted on women and girls of color in our society visible. In D.C., Chicago, Durham, Atlanta and Detroit women of color will be gathering to renew our commitment to creating a world free from racialized and gendered violence, and this time, we’ll be using a new technology called CyberQuilting to connect all of these gatherings in real time. To learn more about CyberQuilting, which is a women of color led project to stitch movements together using new web technologies and old traditions of love and nurturing, visit www.cyberquilt.wordpress.com.

This letter is an invitation for you and yours to participate in a gathering in your city on Thursday, October 30th that will be webcast to similar gatherings in other cities. We are calling on you because we recognize and appreciate the work that you and the organizations you work with are doing everyday to make this a more loving and less violent world for women and girls in oppressed communities. Please join us on October 30th so that other warriors in this struggle can be strengthened and affirmed by the energy of our collective ferocity!

If you are not located in D.C., Chicago, Durham, Atlanta and Detroit for the webcast, you can still participate by wearing Red on October 30, 2008 and send us your pictures to beboldbered@gmail.com

Also we are asking once again that people wear Red on October 30, 2008 and send us your pictures to beboldbered@gmail.com

As we receive them we will upload your pictures under “Red Pictures Today.”

Also, as well as to share your stories of Red on this website under “Why are you wearing Red on October 30, 2008.”

So, are you ready?!

a lesson from the mind of my genius friend oyin:

she calls it the m&m conversation. it's what happens when you don't let go of old shit. i'm totally paraphrasing, but when/ if she posts up a specific example in her own words i'll be sure to post & share it here.

the beginning:

you have a particularly wounding conversation with your mom. she says some terrible things to you that pretty much make you feel like the lowest being on earth, like you aren't important to anyone, not even god. you remember everything about the conversation. you remember the look on her face, and you remember most of all what that day looked like. you were 10, so you weren't @ eye level with her. it was april, 1988 and that day was unseasonably warm. you were in the parlor and wishing like hell that picture of your dead great-aunt wasn't so spooky looking. you had on your favorite pair of la gears. your mom had on a yellow dress.

the middle:

you never say to your mom that what she said hurt you. you never tell anyone that she wounded you with her words/ actions. you carry that shit with you for years & years. you develop stomach problems. you become crippled when you end up in a confrontational situation.

the end:

one day, years later, you're hugged up w/ your boocakes on your sofa and he is fucking up a bag of peanut m& ms. you say to him, "boocakes, may i have some of your m&ms please?" your boocakes, being the kind of generous soul he is, shares the peanut m&ms with you. you look into your palm, and you see that most of the candies are yellow.

you throw the candy to the floor & begin to spaz the fuck out: "motherfucker, what the FUCK is wrong witchu?!?!?? yellow m&ms? i ask you for candy and you give me some terrible ass yellow m&ms? I HATE YELLOW M&MS AND I HATE YOU, TOO! rat bastard!" and so on and so forth.
because you never released that old hurt about the day your mom made you feel terrible, whether you told her later about that shit or not. whether you talked to a therapist or trusted friend or not, your lack of release put you in a position where the most random thing triggered you.

the moral of the story: let that shit out. before you end up doing something preposterous with the leftover negativity.

operation: benetton ad.

you see, lovely blog readers, your protagonist has a bit of an issue.

i haven't had sex in a while, and really good sex (also known as having my back blown out) is such a distant memory that i've got a better chance of recalling my life in utero than recounting any details of sexual exploits. so, in what i'll call my months of solitude, i've had the opportunity to think really hard about what i want when i get back out there. i've pined away over my usual celebrity eye candy (mos def, chiwetel ejiofor, christian bale, don cheadle, q-tip, et al) and had a few moments to reminisce on past crushes/ eye candy (one time for marvin from trader joe's and that fine-as-all-fucking-getout dude who used to ride the same train i did a few yrs back). but what i haven't actively had was some kind of glimmer of hope. anyone who's really legitimately a potential boo for me. crushes and eye candy won't do. going back to former paramours won't work -- if they were what i wanted, they would not be formers! instead, i need something new, something fresh . . .

enter operation: benetton ad.
it all started w/ the idea i've been kicking around for quite some time: the concept that i should possess a stable of he-bitches of all colors, shapes, and sizes. i mean, why not? i can't seem to get precisely what i want in one place, so why not split it up? go on foreign film dates w/ my art nerd, hit happy hour with the lush, cuddle up next to the around-the corner boo, have the sponsor get me that dress i want, and quite possibly have one strong backed strapping individual to have me grinning consistently whilst walking crookedly.

well, lo and behold, the warm winds of late spring and summer have blown a lot of newness my way. first, there was that lovely piece of curly haired extra gorgeous southerner, in town for a conference. swarthy, as white folk tend to say. mmm, mmm, mmm. he has a girlfriend and lives far away from philly, so i'll leave him where he is. until/ unless there's a reason not to.
second, there was the lite brite (translation: he looks like christopher williams might could be his daddy) from the starbucks near my job. i think he might be slow. but he's nice to look at. eye candy is important. there's a young asian man whose family owns the nail salon i go to. he is SO PRETTY. and a youngin. he's legal, though. seems to be unreasonably interested in the things i use to adorn myself (earrings, bangles, sneakers, nail polish colors). i like him, though, and wouldn't mind sitting on my sofa w/ him while he paints my toenails. there's a chicano in the mix, too. he seems to be focused on marrying me and figuring out how on earth my spanish is as good as it is. he makes me laugh. sometimes. the language barrier is interesting.

and then.
lawdy JEEZUS.

today, i met a fine ass barber who gave me his card and said he'd cut my hair tomorrow . . . LORDY BE, I CAN'T TAKE IT.
he's covered in tattoos. amateurish ones that scream "i've been into some bad shit in my life," and he has the unmitigated gall to smell good. lord help me!
he is, in the words of my beloved uncle, "niggafied." that's what he calls any non-black person w/ the most black american swagger ever.
i mean, i prefer to just say he's very much an around the way asian dude
but the swagger
he got that big dick swagger i tend to only see in black men and others who've been victimized by the prison industrial complex.

WOOT

*fannin myself*

but yeah.
i'm building myself a stable so i can get what i want until i've had my fill. currently, i'm not even close to being done!

U-N-I-T-Y, that's a unity . . .




addendum: in my infinite wisdom and continual quest for creative ways to express myself, i have decided to regard to the stable of he-bitches as he-bees. that is, i am a he-bee keeper, and i'm going to be maintaining an apiary of dick. buckwild apiary's mission statement soon come.

on: acting right.

thembi's lady laws for black women (with my notes in italics):


1. Stay Off Of The Pole. And For That Matter, Out Of Videos. I haven’t decided whether or not I have a real problem with strippers or strip clubs in general - who am I to say that men shouldn’t be allowed to gather in a public place and expose their inability to be fully intimate with their spouses by fondling and ogling some stray woman? What I do know is that YOU shouldn’t be one of said strays. Letting your body be drool-worthy for a room full of men cheapens and degrades you, and in the long run is not at all worth the money (no matter how pressed you are for cash). You never know who will be in that club, and when the "I saw Keisha on the pole!" story is told, your future boss or uncle who was "just in there with his boys" won’t be the shamed one, you will! If you like showing off your sexy side, which all of us should, save it for the right man, who will love enjoying all of the freaknasty you have inside of you without having to pay for it on a dollar-by-dollar basis. Someone will always do it, just don't let that someone be you. The same goes for being in videos. That is NOT a profession and will not lead to any sort of meaningful career, modeling or otherwise. A ho is a ho, root word whore, meaning sex for sale, and your stuff is priceless. Got it? [my note: this ties directly into lady law #8. if you're gonna strip, you're gonna strip. but don't walk out of the shaky butt feeling like someone has managed to get more out of you than what they've paid for. unfortunately, we all know about becoming a sex worker (i include strippers in that) to pay for tuition and to feed babies. in my opinion, there are a few social issues that come into play when it comes to dancing vs. working 3 jobs or whatever. i kinda doubt that most of the women who might need this caveat even read thembi's blog. but she makes a damn valid point: your future boss might be there with his boys. then what do you do? sometimes, the immediate need outweighs any potential fallout. especially when it comes to maintaining the roof over your head and that of your family. ultimately, though, shame/ embarrassment seem to tie directly into whether or not you fully own your history and present. living with no regrets usually involves being unabashedly yourself, which leads us into lady law #2.]

2. Go Where No Blackgirl Has Gone Before. The obvious interpretation of the title of my blog is that I think that I’m some Jesus figure. Not so. Actually, the very weekend before I started blogging, loyal commenter Aaliyah was at an almost all-white party filled with beefy frat boys and was asked to do a kegstand. At her side were two other friends of mine, one of which said to her "What would Thembi do?" The obvious answer – go where no black girl has gone before and do the freaking keg stand! It really IS ok to be you, whether it’s as trivial as going snowboarding or as major as pursing a PhD in Greek Mythology. Do the most random or ridiculous things you feel like doing even if you’re not technically supposed to do them, and do them at all times. The same goes for rock concerts, tattoo conventions, playing the accordion, or whatever! Being a blackgirl comes with a unique set of baggage - on the one hand, we’re accustomed to being a minority in almost any situation a million times over. On the other hand, we feel like there are certain places and activities that aren't "ok" for us. Forget all of that, risk ostracization, and trailblaze for us all. We can’t keep saying "But blackgirls don’t _______" or else we’ll never do anything at all. Be YOU, regardless of whatever skin tone, sorority, thickness, neighborhood, or whatever you may be a part of. None of it is as fresh as plain old blackgirl you. [ummmm, BASICALLY. do what you want to do because it makes you feel tingly and warm all over. screw what everyone else thinks your blackness makes you. you're yourself. period. it feels good to own and love your whole self. there's nothing like it.]

3. DON’T Get Pregnant, DO Have A Baby. When people say "Life Is Short," they really mean that life is short – when you’re unencumbered. Life is really, really long when you’re tied down to some dude who seemed great when you were sixteen years old but hasn’t even made it through his baby boy years when it’s time to send junior off to middle school. In fact, it can even seem too long when you start to calculate the potential unpaid child support, the number of times you tried to "make it work for the baby", and the time you’ll spend child rearin’ instead of actually growing up, getting degrees, and making a name for yourself. Not to say you can't have a baby early and have it all turn out rosy in the end, but howsabout having children with someone who can actually agree to be with you in a family unit for the long haul whether or not you just happen to get pregnant? Sidenote: It should go without saying, but why even risk diseases by not protecting yourself? A baby is not the only gift that keeps on giving, you know. [again, the women who probably need to at least be exposed to this concept are not reading thembi's blog. unless thembi is posting her blog for the world on blackplanet or in the back covers of teri woods 'novels' so folks can at least impede their hurtling toward disaster. *shrug* you can't win 'em all.]

4. Know Your Own Hair. Black women have more hair options than almost anyone else, and we exercise them to the fullest. But even those of use who switch from weave to ponytail and from blonde to red would never dare to wear our natural hair in public. I can spend the whole day running errands and not see one blackgirl without a perm, and the same goes for watching television or opening a magazine. What is up with that? Granted, I went natural the easy way with the Philly soul thing being at my heart and a head of naps that never really took a perm quite right, but what pains me is when another blackgirl says to me "I love your hair! How long did it take to grow? I could never get my hair to be that texture. How did you do it?" The reality of it is, most of us don’t even know what is growing out of our own heads, and its very sad. Not one other group of people on this planet can say the same. It’s fine if you settle on a perm or some braids or even a Jheri curl after exploring your options, just get to the point where you can say that you know what your natural hair even looks and feels like before you aspire to be Beyonce by default. [it is IMPORTANT to know what your hair is really about. it is really important to style, care for, manage, and possibly even cut your own hair YOURSELF. dependency on a stylist is kinda, like, not cute. no matter what your choice of hair is. if you've got a natural and only ever wear microbraids or wigs or weaves because your hair is 'ugly underneath that' SOMETHING IS WRONG. love yourself enough to know how to do specifically what you want for yourself at all times. it's a liberating feeling.]

5. Get Out Of Town. I’ve met young women who have never left their cities, seen the ocean, or even set foot in another zip code. It’s not always cheap, and it’s not always fun, but the sooner you start traveling the better. In fact, this Lady Law applies to almost everyone of every race and gender. Make a list of dream locations and get started as soon as possible. The more time you spend in the same surroundings the less you understand about the world, and for that matter, what the world thinks of you – you’ll learn that you’re not trapped after all. Besides, you can’t conquer the world if you don’t know what’s out there, and it should be your goal to conquer it! Let the trailer trash of West Virginia confuse Mexicans with Spaniards and believe that Africa is a country and not a continent. Learn your world because it is yours to learn, even if you have to do so only an inch at a time. [i used to feel bad about not having hit every country i've wanted to by age 25. but then i met someone who's never spent a night in a hotel (even in his own city, which can still be fun and eye opening depending on where you stay), never even been to the airport (cuz his ppl never go anywhere or do shit), and was so amazed at my proclivity toward traveling to nyc on a whim that he nearly pissed his pants at the chance to go himself. i got over that feeling of inadequacy. i am gonna go where i wanna go at every given chance. this year: a conference in harlem, caribana in toronto, quality time w/ the fam at the jersey shore (you aren't a philadelphian without it), and a good girlfriend of mine is moving to atlantic city. it doesn't take a lot, except maybe a plan or at the very least the real genuine true desire. things happen for us all at the right time, when they need to happen. no need to rush to be amelia earhart, but you most certainly need to get out of your zip code. not not just to go to court.]

6. Don’t Get Called Out of Your Name. I’m not on this whole "we were queens" tip, but I know that none of us should be called or let ourselves be called any of the following: bitch, ho, trick, and on and on and on. Don’t sing along with songs about "makin' it rain" unless it's for the sake of irony. Don’t even participate in anything misogynistic unless you know it’s only a joke to you, and even then don’t ever pay for it. Recognize that just like when he talks about selling crack you're not selling crack, that when some rapper talks about his hoes he doesn’t mean you, download that song from Limewire, and keep it moving. And lastly, never, EVER call yourself anyone’s "baby’s momma." My first encounter with an ex’s grown BM involved her introducing herself to someone as such, and as much evidence as I may have already had that she was feeble-minded, giving herself that label sealed the deal. Don't be that broad. [context means everything, y'all. formal introductions should not ever in your life or your former partner's life include the words 'baby's mama' or any variant. that shit's not cute. my mom occasionally refers to my estranged father as her baby daddy because she thinks it's funny. she generally refers to him as her ex. big difference. also, the context within which we use the words bitch, ho, trick, etc. means a lot. a lot. if you're at a drag ball, bitch is thrown around liberally. it's culture. it's context. watch yourself.]

7. Act White. I won’t bother justifying this term because you all know just what I mean. Talk white by speaking the King’s English, using full sentences, and the most intricate vocabulary you can muster. Act white by doing well in school, participating in any activity that suits you, and playing musical instruments. Don’t worry, you will never, ever actually BE white. If it were possible, don’t you think that all of those people who were lynched and beaten back in the day would have white-acted their way out of it? [i am a second-generation 'oreo'. my mom said they used to call her white girl for being so precise with her english, and it's definitely managed to rub off on me and my two sisters. it's so serious that i have charged myself with the task of learning perfect, unaffected spanish so that i sound the best i possibly can to native speakers. i'm not playing. i know my vernacular, i have my moments where i'm like 'you ain't shit!' or whatever. but when it comes time for that good code-switching i learned in my school days (penn charter and project learn STAND UP!), i go toe to toe with the best. furthermore, i've always believed that excellent grades are the ultimate smack in the face to the very white ppl whom your brown/ black/ red/ yellow peers can't stand. fuck what the other black kids are telling you. strive to get that perfect score on the SAT's. i took AP art history senior year. it was liberating, despite being the only black student in the class. again: be unafraid of your whole self.]

8. Get What You Deserve Without Worrying About What He Deserves. This is a weird one. All too often women say "I’m not giving it up to him, he doesn’t deserve it!" But what do YOU want? While it’s not smart to just go giving it up to any old body, getting caught up in the idea that your sexual desires should be based on what men deserve is the exact opposite of feminism. If we only had sex when men deserved it we would be a bunch of bitter, mean, deprived wenches. Learning and maintaining the balance between withstanding pressure from dudes and getting yours is part of becoming a real woman. [get yours, boo. GET IT. you want to fuck the guy or gal who delivers the milk to your supermarket? does she or he meet or exceed your standards for an acceptable fuck buddy? nobody said you had to marry the motherfucker. go on and make it happen. if you make everyone jump through a bunch of hoops when you aren't trying to go far with their ass to begin with, you may find yourself bothered with the lack of good sex in your life. the key: having and maintaining real standards. truuuuust me. i had a dope boy as a fuck buddy. i never let him talk much, cuz he wasn't the smartest. but he met the standards: ready, willing, able, clean penis, proximity to my home, a deep love for cunnilingus. my standards have since changed, as have i. but y'all get the point. there's a difference between sleeping with someone who's a total waste of your time/ energy and getting yours from someone who simply isn't the boo of your dreams while still being a great sex partner. really.]

9. Don’t Eat That Mess. Our country is facing an obesity epidemic, yadda yadda blah blah. But it’s all so very real, ladies, and I’m as guilty as the next chick. The thing is, you can get fat and out of shape eating regular food and that’s damning enough. It’s the Chinese Store chicken wings and fries (saltpepperketchup or no), grape soda, chips, quarter water, or other mess. If you can believe for one second that AIDS or crack was planted in the black community to kill us, what do you think Crown Fried Chicken is here for? And your body may be able to metabolize it before you hit 25, but after that it's just a quick ride to Lane Bryant once you get addicted, so don't do it. [she is NOT LYING. 'regular' to most ppl is hyperprocessed foolishness that comes wrapped in plastics and wax paper and shit, then goes in the microwave. and that's just what you eat at home. not a good look. i live in a walking city, yet we used to be the fattest city in the nation. the problem: most of us are walking to get junk food. i have a warm(er) weather routine: walk at least 1 mile each weekday, whether it's on lunch hour or on the way to work or on the way home. it's at least a weight maintenance measure. the next issue is making sure i don't get high and wander about in search of wings and cookies at midnight when my ass needs to (a) be asleep or (b) eat a damn apple and go to sleep. the munchies are real shit. i think this city is also full of potheads who will eat anything that isn't nailed down. it's unfortunate, but true. if you have a crazy work schedule like mine, it's super easy to do takeout instead of cooking. it's pricey, though. and depending on where you live, you may only be able to get junk. the key is balance.]

10. Be A Lady. I have never been the most ladylike of blackgirls and most women like me can trace that to our upbringings, but it’s really very simple. It’s very natural for us to speak loudly, but it’s more powerful when used in small doses, just like hot sauce. Making that lip smack before you start speaking is not cute either, especially if it’s followed by a "weeeeeeeeaaaaal," twist of your neck, and then whatever it is that you have to say. By doing that, not only have you butchered the word "well," but whatever you have to say is eclipsed by that attempt to get attention and gear up like you need prep time just to speak your mind. Swearing every other word may be cute to around-the-way boys but if you ever want to get off of the block (see Lady Law #5), it won’t do you any good. Although every once in a while another female may make your blood boil, fighting is not cute – just think, aren't you way too pretty to get into a fight and get some gash across your face? I don’t think I need to caution young blackgirls on good grooming because we’re good at that, but do you really need to let all of that unravel just because some girl is talking about you? What does that even really mean? Like Katt Williams says, if you’ve got fourteen haters, you need to find a way to get sixteen! [i've never fought someone who didn't hit me first. i'll never be the one who advises a friend to go slap the shit out of someone -- that just is not my style. i believe in maintaining my relative freedom by not getting locked up. i also think it's lame to fight someone when you have a job, or rent to pay, or kids to feed. then again, anyone who needs to consider this probably isn't reading my blog. next up: lenée's life skills classes. after doula training/ certification and a bit more day jobbing.]

so, i had this lil chat

with my godmother yesterday.
she said, in no uncertain terms: "listen for your mother, cuz she's comin."

i feel it already.
i'm ready for it.

i'm tired of this shit.

myopia is a disease. it can be a blessing and simultaneously a curse, if you will. i don't mean what my eyes can do (i'm a prime candidate for corrective eye surgery, actually). i'm talking about worldview perspective, or the lack thereof. i'm still here with mine. i'm not sure there are too many other ways to say it. i believe that love must fuel change. when i change myself, it is out of love -- i cast away old things. i cast away negativity. i cast away damaging things to improve myself. to me, change outside of ourselves should be fueled by the same feelings of love. there is no other way. what could be greater than love?

ain't a lot i can say.

ran into a former paramour. the dope boy. he's quite obviously on that shit. it hurts my heart. i never thought we were gonna be some great power couple, nor did i ever think i'd lay eyes on him again. but damn. did he really have to go and do the very same shit he pushed on the block? i pray that whatever happens, his suffering be minimal & that he achieve his highest destiny. we were never close or anything but all i really ever want for anyone is that they find peace inside so they don't have to be the junkie everyone's afraid of/ looking down upon. i'm really at a loss for him.

it's about that time of year again. monae's been gone nearly a year. she was the child of my mother's first cousin. they were part of the only branch of my grandmother's family who lived even remotely close to us in mt. airy. and i rarely saw her as we got older. school, work, social lives . . . all those things kept us from being close. youth. lack of foresight. of course, i'd have been in that girl's back pocket if i knew she was gonna leave here before she could even see her 22nd birthday. i think it might have been mutual for her, too. but, at the same time, i'm okay w/ how things were. there's nothing that can be done about what's already gone on. i can't forget the last time i saw her. i'll make sure i put something out for her & my grandmother on their birthday. iba ara t'orun monae. iba ara t'orun momzie.

there's transitioning going on all over my life. work, home, all sides of me. i need to keep both feet on the ground, so as not to be swept away by these gradual and/ or sweeping changes.
there's much to be done...

silence still won't protect you:

some links to feed your inner (or outer) revolutionary:

the sakia gunn film project

black./womyn conversations on blogspot & youtube (i'm SO mad i missed the philly screening)

brokenbeautiful press

no snow here

the butch caucus

happy reading!