The Truth As I See It

My Bad...

2007-08-13T19:21:00.000-04:00

Have you ever done something you knew would regret when you did it, but went against all the omens and did it anyway? I'm pretty sure everyone has done this about something, and most people have done it with matters of the heart. The other day, boredom prompted me to check-out an ex-boyfriend's latest survey post. I know him well enough to know he is brutally honest, so all of the answers... all of the innuendo... all of the joy he's experiencing in life and love ended up making me feel like shit.

I'd long ago chocked the break-up to me. My indifference, my inability to be selfless, and (most of all), my failure to thwart the sentiments of naysayers. What I found is the same thing I realized when it hit me that he could be the one... it is no accident that a man of his caliber was single when I found him. Most women aren't ready when a dream guy is staring them in the face - hindsight tells me I'm one of them.

On the upside, I know that I learned some very important lessons from that relationship. A year later, it is much easier for me to assign whatever blame was mine to me. If you have someone who wants to do nothing other than be with and there for you, being busy with other things needs to take a back seat. When busy is over, only you can make sure lonely isn't waiting in the wings.

Prevaricate Not

2007-07-16T18:03:00.000-04:00

For whatever reason here lately, I find myself subject to disrespect and lies. My first thought is to dwell in the "maybe I'm doing something to deserve it space." Then, I quickly stop myself from biting the bullet on my own. If the rule we are taught as children is true, these folks are telling me to treat them like soap scum.

I hesitated to even complain aloud by blogging this, but it kept happening. In The Devil Wears Prada one old timer tells the industry insider getting to the promotion stage at work means your personal life is someplace laying in tatters. I looked at both of these in my life, and they appear to be on equal footing-each chugging along nicely. (Knock on wood)

The only conclusion I can come to is there is something to be learned from the unsolicited treatment. When I say I feel vindicated as the cause, it isn't arrogance. I know each day of my life, I do what I can to be a light to and for others. I take all opportunities I can to grow as a person in my love of people. If this is my heart... my goal... the passion of my soul, why am I being hurt?

I've heard the old folks say the one you love the most will hurt you that much and oftentimes more. There's a story my sister loves to tell about me; I was about 11 years old. At summer camp one of our crafts was a frame for a Polaroid taken there. We were given popsicle sticks, a paint pen, the picture, and a wooden heart then told to write, "I [heart] ____." At a loss for ideas because I was uncertain who the benefactor of the gem would be, I decided on, "I [heart] me." My sister laughs me out saying no one other than me would have written that.

Back then, I did love myself more than anything. Call it selfish- call it naive- I knew, somewhere, something I seem to have forgotten along the way. No matter how big your heart is, or how much you give of yourself to others, nothing is under your control except those things that are about you. So, I started on a path to be about me by making me ready to do something good for... well, everybody. When I experienced the epiphany to my career path, things about me changed. Though I still loved me, I loved me for the God in me though which big things... huge... could be accomplished.

Now, as I'm rolling down my road, I realize the very people I do things for... the groups of people I sacrifice things for... are all hurting the heaven out of me. Is it what the enemy wants? Of course. Can I as a person stop other people from hurting me? A past lesson taught me that answer is "no." Lucky for me, part two of the same lesson let me know I can control something... I can not let what other people do (or don't do) hurt me. Turmoil at work is small stuff in the big scheme of things. Unrest in relationships-small stuff. Me not letting the small stuff get to me... priceless.

The Truth is...

2007-04-10T20:41:00.000-04:00

A wiry white-haired old man referring to anybody as a "ho" is enough to raise an eyebrow and result in acquiescence to some level of inappropriateness. This... this is just sick and sickening on an entirely different level.

As a Black American woman, I feel this Imus guy just doled-out a dose of second-class treatment so incorrigible, how can we -- "we" being all women and people with naturally nappy hair (most are Black) -- possibly sit by and let this slide with a paid vacation? For one thing, I don't know how him going to talk to Rev. Al Sharpton* is an indication of real desire to admit wrongdoing-- he was merely addressing the hype. Then one can only remember Michael Richards and his quick turn with who was it... Rev. Jesse Jackson*?

I respect both of these Black men for their respective positive contributions to "the struggle." But they represent the type of leader Black people looked to when we were all in the same boat--discounted, disregarded, and still delegated the responsibility of builing the country (think of it as an antiquainted Guest Worker type of thing... only tax on Blacks fine print spoke in epochs of generations... not years) Once the efforts of the fervently religious leaders manifested into equal treatment, Black folks went out to seize freedom of opportunity. Some were content with the principle of being recognized; while others continued to challenge the status quo and reach higher heights.

Since the limit of man's success in history still appears boundary-less, the idea of "what Black people need," has morphed from something agnate to many abstract ideas of how our individual successes can be obtained. As a woman, this same principle is applicable to our struggle for equality; lest we forget, the movement for voting rights for both of these groups occurred in the 20th century.

As NBC makes a statement by pulling Mr. Imus' simu-cast from MSNBC, I can only laugh at the irony of a corporation finally using the race card as its cop-out. Honestly, I laugh to stop myself from crying... men making decisions about men and what men are allowed to say about women... what a crock of sh*t. Though Imus referred to the majority white Lady Vols squad as "cute" just prior to strongly contrasting the appearance of the Rutgers team, I wonder if he compared aesthetics of the two teams that competed for the men's NCAA crown.

The bottom line is... this is a 66-year old with long held, and conveyed, misogynistic and racist views. He is NOT the exception, but is now being made into the rule.

*This is an issue of misogyny first and race second. Devil's advocates for this issue have been quick to throw rap lyrics into the equation as the underlying cause. Well, it's been reported that Mr. Imus purports to have gotten this vernacular from a Spike Lee joint... Are we NOW gonna boycott our most outspoken and revolutionary film maker? In 2007, "we" can barely be used to group Black people beyond physical similarity. What "we" need is some self-respect and self-determination--NOT people who look like us making the world believe they can still group us into one, give us the once-over, and appease oh "we" Black folk.

2007-02-14T19:16:00.000-05:00

Cupid: You won't believe in me but you would fancy leprechauns or groundhogs... no thank you Easter bunny... (Andre 3000)

This photograph was taken in 2005 at the Rijksmuseum - National Museum for Art and History in Amsterdamn, Nederlands.

I accept the fact that all of the hype surrounding the celebration of St. Valentine is wholly due to capitalistic greed... But, when you think about it, and whether you like it or not, the 14th of February is always eventful (to say the least)...

As today approached, I found myself wondering what was behind the sour feeling in my stomach behind the whole mess. V-day 2006 held no special event, and prior to that, I remember a few fond times. The most I could come up with was V-day 1997. At the time, I was a precocious high school freshman member of the dance line. My "boyfriend" played percussion in the band. The excitement around the holiday was heightened because it fell on a basketball Friday that year.

At some point, I remember the "boyfriend" being surrounded by his homeys. Shortly thereafter, he came to me with more holiday greetings and a little box... At 14, you can imagine how through I was. My Valentine's gift was a heart-shaped, filigree gold ring. (If someone pulled it out t-o-d-a-y I would immediately be equally as through).

If you're waiting for the downside, here it comes. Soon thereafter, this "boyfriend" indelibly earned his quotes. Even in retrospect, the things he did were painful, so at that age I was crushed. When I think about it, the ring ended up being the scapegoat for all of my pain about the entire thing. It is gone, and so should be the grudge I held on Valentine's Day because of pure association.

For the first time, and quite at the last minute, I propositioned a man to be my Valentine (elementary school y/n's aside). I had said it before I realized which assured me I'm cured. At the end of this day, I can say my venture was successful and resulted in a nice surprise followed by an endless day of smiling. (I love a man who steps up to the plate!)

To Cupid, I say... let it do what it do, baby, yeeeaaahhhh!!!

2006-12-08T14:35:00.000-05:00

Matrix News...

In the wee hours of the morning today, I found myself awake and watching television. This isn't my usual routine, but I needed something to jolt me into the land of functional consciousness. I'd fallen asleep watching Law and Order: CI, so when USA's morning schedule of infomercials popped-up, I immediately sought more substantive programming options.

In typical fashion, the network news programs were full of fluff with a little bit of substance thrown in for good measure (San Francisco father hailed as a hero, tidbits on the latest buskwacking, etc). What I needed to hear (being the public health nut that I am) included information about the O157:H7 outbreak, the explanation for women becoming the staple of military frontlines, and what the presidential hopefuls think about the situation in the Middle East (considering the fact that both Blair and Bush are on the way out). Anywho...

When the American networks did not deliver substantive accounts, I made a promise to myself to seek some international news at some point in my day. When I flipped the channel and found BBC, I could've stopped there feeling quite accomplished for the day, but I promised, remember...

I got to work and fate placed news.independent.co.uk in my lap. I originally googled "Taco Bell illnesses" expecting cnn.com or msnbc.com to get first dibbs, but alas, it was this UK site. From there, I read a lengthy and well written interview about Nas' forthcoming "Hip Hop is Dead" cd, non-sugarcoated accounts about Fidel Castro, and other very interesting tid bits. Maybe it's because it's "The Independent" or maybe it's because it's from the UK... Whatever it is, it sure beat the hell out of reading washingtonpost.com.

2006-12-07T21:50:00.000-05:00

Closure

It’s funny how life works. You live and find comfort in the familiar and safe things you encounter, but often relax to the point of complacency about true happiness. As I knock on 2007 and my 25^th year’s doors, I realize that no matter how much you develop yourself or grow as a person, it is a given that your past will always taunt you.

I laced-up my traveling shoes this past weekend and took two mini-vacas… one, away time from my routine with added skymiles, and the other, a convoluted inner journey that would definitely lead to some sort of closure. When people seek closure, they mean to forget about what preceded the need and then, really, move the hell on. My system doesn’t at all exclude this premise, but is based on the fact if something needs to be revisited in order for you to gauge the accuracy of your past instincts’ decision, then you’d better gain some real self-wisdom in the process.

With my relationships, all of them have been whirlwinds of intensity for one or both parties. With care not to self-incriminate, let’s just say that it is second-nature for me to predict the reaction of my girlfriends when I tell them some bloke has quickly fallen in love with me. Back then, my motto was, “the only thing I can truly be… all the time… is me.” That reasoning served me well for what I hope will be the first half (preferably, the first two-thirds) of my single adult life.

Then, through whatever divine intervention, I encountered a glitch in my personal matrix. A good friend of mine told me that whether I recognized it or not, “[I] play with these boys and need to stop!” I have been extremely fortunate in terms of having elders around to counsel and direct decisions for my life. So I could not discount the reality from a close friend six years my senior, but at the time, it opened confusion with regards to the possibility of a loose double entendre. What does it mean to play with someone, what are the rules of the game anyway, and had I—for all this time—been playing myself?

My epiphany involves me realizing so much about myself that I quickly realized how my routine behavior was pigeonholing me into unhappiness. Why? Because on some level, giving the same thing you used to give when the object of obsession is the human equivalent of couture is just plain bad diva behavior. I realized that whether I wanted to continue playing the game or not, I had to reexamine what I was projecting to attract those I was getting. One thing directly affects the other, and growth is learning how to adjust the bait to catch what you’re fishing for.

I can honestly say that rather than throw caution to the wind and go for the gusto, I have been content with accepting the malleable young man for many reasons (i.e., to avoid rejection, competition, having to keep my ‘ish tight). This little fear issue would cost anyone dearly, and I am no different. The first love of my life was one of the drop-dead guys who could get at least a second date with most women. When I snagged that, I was on cloud nine about the attractive genetic prospects for the future (you’ve gotta do it for the kids). Not to go on a tangent… when this highly attractive young man hit the road, it hurt me so deeply that I am certain this is where my issues began.

It wasn’t that he left me, but that he opted for other pastures (that turned out to be not-so green). I realized it is quite normal for people who seem compatible and have loads of passion between them to in actuality NOT be meant for each other. This, however, was not my initial reaction. At the tender age of 18, self-insufficiencies crowded my rationale to a point where I took the separation personally wondering what was wrong with me. Those feelings were the mortar in the emotional wall that I would build for the next 6 years.

Along the way, I have had fulfilling relationships with some really great guys. These were different from my first, though, because I had fashioned the bricks for my emotional wall by “empowering” myself in romantic relationships. Until year 5, things went smoothly with me always playing the catalyst to breakups. Just as I completed the most convoluted, subconscious relationship sabotage ever (which resulted in me being dumped… twice), I was faced with the most haunting taunt from my past.

Enter here, the man discovered at the commencement of real adulthood—age 21. This man has always been one of the ones I tell my girlfriends, “I can see myself with him…” When I recognized our compatibility, I made it a point to not rush into labels, categories, or love. To my detriment, this pact with myself left me with the short-end of my dream guy’s stick (figuratively speaking…) because, as fate would have it, just as I delved back into the pool of those drop-deads, this one did something that cut me really deep.

For whatever reason, the hurt I felt with him cut deeply, but not enough for me to completely eliminate him from my life. As I look at he and I (my most topsy-turvy relationship to date, though I use relationship more loosely than usual in reference to male/female interaction), this round of closure found us at a crossroads. Maybe we have just learned how to communicate with each other or maybe we’ve just grown up. Either way, whatever is going on between us lets me know that I had good instincts in the first place.

I know that I cannot predict the future, but I believe I can influence it. I cannot just “be me” with someone when the whole idea behind lasting love is the kind that makes you a better person constantly willing to one-up your game. Now I've doubled-back on someone who appreciates my love for game day and jazz—someone who doesn’t think it’s lame for my music collection to include classical masterpieces—someone who is supportive—someone who shows me things about myself—someone who can help me synthesize my thoughts—someone who inspires me.

I wouldn't have seen these things had I decided against "manning-up" and putting my real feelings on the line. In the end, I know keeping my emotions bottled up was my personal poison, but the release opened my eyes to the reality that people really do give according to what they get. Still not claiming psychic powers, I am comfortable with being open with my feelings even if they end up bruised. That is the real test of “just being me…”

So, this round of closure, surprisingly, was with myself… so long to the insecure girl… hello to the real woman.

2006-11-10T19:55:00.000-05:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce the REAL...

Today, we lost yet another iconic African-American... Gerald LeVert. (He will always be missed, and I feel fortunate to have been able to see him perform in 2002). When I heard about the loss, it really got me thinking. Gerald had that passion... that one-of-a-kind come-hither voice that made you believe regardless of whatever he had done, his intentions were honorable. When I look at the young crop of R&B crooners, I can't help but shake my head at the fact that no one has the voice, the charisma, or the intensity to match he was the artist behing "The G Spot."

There's something to be said for passion... intensity... open honesty. These things always came across in Gerald's music. In my tangent thought process, I recognized the ladies loved Gerald because he was never afraid to act a fool and pour his heart out in pursuit. Sadly, this made his music celebrity image more appealing to a lot of women than that of the real men we encounter on a daily basis. Though there are always debates about what we girls want and what we don't, I think I can speak for all when I say what we truly require is love and respect.

Love, in all of its abstractness, includes euphoric and sometimes senseless passion that when wielded correctly, drives a woman wild. All any real woman needs is to see a man is willing to do a little wildin' out for her because when emotionally vested, we naturally do the same. Even the man who is usually a little undesirable can earn kudos when he lets it all hang loose (lol). Respect is simply knowing you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar (though that colloquialism has always puzzled me... who wants a bunch of flies???) These concepts are simple in theory, but extremely complicated in practice...

So, though today was a tragedy for those who love unbridled passion in their R&B/soul music, take a lesson from the dead. Life is too short to live blandly. Seize each moment. Love when it feels right. Love like you want to be loved. Share your feelings when given the chance. And, do it all like there is no tomorrow.

ciao...

2006-11-10T14:28:00.000-05:00

Greetings, from my head...

Allow me to pay homage to my favorite journalist, Mr. Ed Bradley. Referred to as "Mr. Cool" by a CBS news colleague, Ed Bradley never failed to captivate my attention during his stories (and I offer that his diamond stud had nothing to do with it). He has left an incomparable legacy. I am more than elated to come from older parents who actually watched 60 Minutes during my childhood.

Mr. Bradley, on behalf of my generation... you will be missed.

2006-11-08T11:53:00.000-05:00

For the first time in over a decade, US dems can tell GOPers to get behind them and kiss ass...
No, seriously, last night, the politics in this country definitely shifted from the cavalier cowboy attitude of crusading and conquering. Though faced with choosing the lesser of two evils, for the first time since this entire mess began, the public spoke up and spoke out--rationally. Unfortunately, each individual vote actually counts in mid-term elections... We can only hope that 2008 arrives with the public still shunning the imperialist and capitalistic machine...

Ciao...

2006-11-05T20:11:00.000-05:00

My self-proclaimed man, Mos Def, said it best on his latest disc The New Danger. If the geniuses of the past were alive today, how would they feel about the state of things? I venture to guess that they wouldn't be able to stand it... Billie, Miles, Jimi-- who sought solace in substance abuse, eventually succumbed to the fatality of their addictions. Why were they addicted in the first place? Or, an even better question, why would people with so much talent, such profound insight choose a temporary high over life? I can honestly say that if these musical icons thought their circumstances were grim and dreary then, they wouldn't feel much better about the way the world is progressing today.

I'm not so bold as to place myself in the same category as these legends, however, I do relate to their craft. Much of their work was before my time, but the timeless messages that resonate very accurately convey my own sentiments. Marvin Gaye, arguably the greatest male soul singer, released song after song condeming the circumstances and conditions facing the world at that time. For his sanity, it is best that he is not around to see that people are still asking, "What's Going On?"

We're still losing mother and child to the streets... 5-0 is more trigger happy than ever... the gov. is still b*tch slapping the little man... we're STILL spending TOO much cheese to go to space (is the cure for AIDS, Cancer, and IGNORANCE on the moon or Mars???)... AND, our virile youth are STILL dying in unjust wars...

To me, the alarming thing, moreso, even than the reality of the dismal circumstances we face, is the fact that so few people admittingly see life for what it is. WHY? The majority of people with the intelligence AND empathy required to positively affect change do not have the resources. The others get caught-up in the machines this country is infamous for perfecting... capitalism and politics. The artists in every genre will always see the world for what it is because with talent and intelligence comes a realistic perspective. While they produce timeless pieces lamenting the hardships of their day, doing something about these trials takes much more. Until the intelligent decide to use their gifts for "good", we will always have occasions where reality is so dismal people just throw up both their hands in defeat.

It is imperative that within this generation, there be people willing to sacrifice their riches and popularity for a real and worthy cause. Unfortunately, money is the driving force behind the actions of so many because so many have never been able to attain the riches we are told can lead to the American Dream. What we should all realize is that the riches are not real. The materialism is not real. AND, having a pimp'd out luxury vehicle parked in front of a housing project or apartment isn't real. What IS real, is realizing that multi-million dollar homes surrounded by housing projects IS real... "real" wrong.

Maybe I'll be a catalyst via my music... maybe not. But the important thing is that I've prepared my intellectual arsenal as well. Talents should be shared, but in the words of Spidey II's Dr. Oc, "Intelligence is a gift to be shared with mankind." I may not change the world, but I definitely plan on making a mark on it. (Thanks 'Pac, for sparking this mind...)