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4.23.2012

Accomplishments

Had a good weekend with friends. Two friends stayed with me on separate nights and each of those nights I was up late with them reminiscing on old times and talking about our present lives. It always makes me feel good to be able to verbalize things with a trusted confidant.

One thing I vocalized with one of the friends that I've not ever talked about, except maybe for a brief rant on Twitter, was about how I feel about my upcoming graduation. I've downplayed the accomplishment of getting a Master's degree. Some of that has been because I've come to realize that though it shouldn't be, my education can be intimidating to some. Some of the reasoning has been also because I don't think I've really understood what a big deal it is for me to (practically) have this, Not everyone graduates from college and even fewer go on to get post-graduate degrees so me being here is no laughing or unimportant matter.

In my mind, this M.Ed is happening because in order to do what I want to do I need it and, to be honest, was there ever a question that I could get it done? Of course not. So why would we get excited about the inevitable?

The general sentiment about my upcoming graduation can be summed up by a quote from my mother: "folks are tired of you graduating..."

My mother is proud of me, she tells me that all the time. There are others in my family who are proud as well and have told me, but I can't shake that statement. This thought that because I've graduated before, because I've proven to be the type of person to do well in school and accomplish things of this nature that it's not an important enough happening for people to just care about is starting to hurt.

So as I processed this with my friend, I began to realize that whether I recognized it or not, I've worked my ass off for this degree. Real blood, real sweat and definitely real tears. One of my professors warned us that we would do a lot of growth and changing and I did not believe him. I did not think I had a lot of growing to do that wasn't professionally. I was self-assured that as a self-aware black woman, I had done all the growing I was going to do for this period of my life. I was epicly wrong.

I also don't think I really became aware of how wrong I was to think that until lately. Not just my time in this program, but my time not in the working world and back in school has been so eye-opening. I have grown. I am more selfish and more worried about my own well-being, specifically mentally, than I was before. I am more apt to tell someone no. I do think about the long term mental/emotional effects of the things I take on and the things I agree to do. I am more cognizant of who has unfiltered access to me and who I'm willing to go that extra mile for. I'm not perfect and I know it and I'm not worried that my imperfections make me an unworthy person. I still have people in my life that I wish I could get rid of but I trust myself more to do a better job of not letting those types back in.

Basically, I was pretty damn awesome 2 years ago, but this process has made me, incredibly, even more awesome than that and I get it and I respect it and I want to protect it.

2 years ago a friend of mine told me I had a gift that was God-given and that I needed to be careful with it, take care of it, not misuse it. I have the ability to do that now; I can and do believe I was given a set of skills that few are given and that whether I can exactly explain them or how I use them I must be careful with them. Being careful with them has meant being careful with myself.

So now that I'm about to celebrate these last 2 years and all this work I've done and all of the growth I've undergone and the way I think I like myself, but more than that, believe in myself more today than I did 2 years ago it hurts to know that there are those who I thought had been behind me these last 48 months that really haven't. Folks who don't get it, who don't see the change and/or don't care about the change. I wish more of my friends and family were congratulating me, that's true. I'd love for them to be here for the ceremony but honestly all I want is a congratulations... text me, email me, smoke signal me... just acknowledge that I worked my ass off, that I went through a rough time for almost a full two years and I made it out the other side.

And you know, even though I'm hurting because of how I've been ignored so far, I see this as a potential blessing in disguise. Whatever cuts need to be made need to happen now because it's time for me to step into whatever it is that's gonna make me great and somebody everyone remembers.

3.13.2012

Epic Shade Is Made of Mirrors and Flashlights

One of my favorite people @TWestfield once had a facebook status that said something like: here's a mirror and a flashlight so some of y'all can go find yourself... It was far more eloquently and poignantly stated than that, but that was the gist. I fell in love with the statement immediately, even going so far as to work it into the answer to the integrative question I was asked during my 2-day comprehensive exam period (which ended today). I resonated with it because I feel like that's so much of what I do in working in schools with kids. I'm a mirror for them and I'm handing out flashlights.

K. Pause that for a second.

A couple of nights ago Oprah aired her interview of Bobbi Kristina Brown and Pat Houston. When a friend of mine and I talked about it, I liked what she said: Oprah asked good questions that Pat answered openly and honestly. There were 2 points in the conversation where my Twitter timeline lit up. The first was when Pat referenced Whitney Houston's apparent search for love in the wrong places. Pat made mention of younger guys and many folks took that as a stab at RayJ; Whitney's often rumored boyfriend.

The second was Pat's description of Whitney's last night out where she had an apparent confrontation with a woman Pat could not name (but was apparently Stacy Francis, a former X-Factor contestant). Pat was very clear that she had nothing ill to say about the woman, who she also clearly stated she did not know and could not name; however many folks in my timeline took that as very well-delivered and well-placed shade.

Shade, for those who may be unfamiliar, is basically a thinly-veiled dis. Veiled enough that you might, if you move to fast, miss it, but thinly enough that you'll probably catch it.

Pat Houston was very poised, very well-spoken, and calm throughout the interview. The tone of her voice never changed, no matter the topic and because of that several folks I saw on twitter priased her for her amazing ability to throw shade.

Not too long ago I was having a conversation with several friends and in it, one mentioned that one of my secret weapons in the "war of words" was my ability to make fun of someone without them knowing it. That wasn't the first time I'd had someone tell me that, but I took a minute to consider what they were saying. It is true -- I can hurt your feelings in a way that may be hard to respond to. I can be quick with my words and when my dry wit and sarcasm meet up, what results can be very rude, a little funny and you really might miss it if you're not up to the challenge. It's not necessarily a trait I'm proud of, but I can admit that I have it.

It occurred to me, as I read some of the responses to Pat Houston's interview, that there is a bit of an art to well-delivered shade. What was actually so epic about Pat was how she remained calm through the interview. That was mostly because she was stating facts -- at least as she knew them. If she was throwing Ray-J shade, and who knows for sure, she was stating the facts as she saw them. As I mentioned on twitter, the best shade, the most epic shade, utilizes relevant facts. Why does that work? Because all an individual is doing is holding up a mirror for you to see yourself.

So back to me being a mirror. See the thing about mirrors is that they don't lie. They can only tell you what you tell them. You may not be ready to hear (or see) it, you may not be ready to accept it as fact but the mirror doesn't change what it tells you based on what you want to know. It is just a reflection; it is just you; it is just what you spit out. And so is true of what some my call "epic shade." All you need to be able to do is accurately reflect whatever mess a person is spitting out in the first place and shine a little light on it so they can see it clearly (because while a mirror still tells the truth in the dark, it's far easier to ignore).

The minute you tread into irrelevant facts about a person, maybe the way they look for example, your shade is no longer useful and it's not of the epic or mirror variety. You've stepped over into your own personal opinions and I can argue you down about your opinions all day; I can't argue with the truth.

So the fair question is: am I shading my kids when I work with them? Some might think that and when I've relayed stories of working with them sometimes people say "wow, I'm afraid for those kids..." (that's a whole other topic, but if you think that working in a school necessitates being sweet like candy all the time, you need a reality check in the worst way). But all I'm aiming to do, in a developmentally appropriate way, is show a child what it is they are showing the rest of us and ask them: "is this who you want to be?"

I've actually found kids deal with that a lot better than adults...

3.03.2012

Tyler Perry's Good Deeds Did Some Good

I went to see Tyler Perry's Good Deeds (name of the movie; I'm aware you already know the filmmaker; henceforth "Good Deeds"). I was surprised that I liked it, but I shouldn't have been. I tend to really enjoy Mr. Perry's non-Madea movies. However, I did have some qualms with it but I have qualms with most movies because I'm a critical watcher. Let's dive in, shall we?

First my issues: Suspension of disbelief is always a problem in Perry's movies. I already knew that Perry's main character, Wesley Deeds, makes the assertion that he is 5th generation ivy league educated which bothered me during the promo period of the movie and of course continued to annoy me when it was said in the movie. I like that he created a well-to-do black family for us with it's own interesting privilege issues, but I wish he'd been realistic about how that family might have come to be. Also, as a person who works in schools I took issue with a few of the scenes around Lindsay (the single mother played by Thandie Newton) and her child and custody. I know several people didn't like how things tied together nicely at the end and so quickly -- more suspension of disbelief, but you have to do that sometimes for movies.

I also noted a few plot holes like when in one scene Natalie's (Wesley's fiancee, played by Gabrielle Union) friend Mark says he's never met Wesley only for the audience to later see Wesley call Mark by name and jokingly say that he'd better have a cab ride home -- not an exchange you'd expect between two people who've never met. Those happen in movies; they always annoy me but that's just me.

Right from the jump I was happy that Tyler brought us out of Atlanta and took us to San Francisco. I don't believe "The Family That Preys" was set in Atlanta either but we also were never made aware of what city it was so that doesn't count.

I've been saying for awhile now that Perry's movies would behoove themselves to make use of subtlety. Everything doesn't have to be spelled out and finally he gave me what I was looking for. We first meet the couple as they're getting ready for work. Instead of having Natalie, tell us flat out that he was predictable, we hear Natalie say the things that she knows Wesley will say because he always does and through that we learn very easily that he's a man of pattern. Not only that but in that simple exchange we can see HOW predictable he is; right down to what he'll say!

Of course Natalie goes on to eventually spell it out for a fellow character and then later for Wesley himself, but the initial subtlety was much appreciated and noted.

Perry likes to use his movies as soapboxes, especially when Madea is in them, on how to raise your kids and I thought he was going to do that this time around -- he kinda did -- but he surprised me when the single mom pushed back with some key points of her own about how difficult it is to raise a child, especially alone. As much as the point was made that kids need good parents, so was the point that good parents need support and it's very much easy to outside or armchair quarterback.

Other high points: this movie was ripe for opportunities to drag out a story line (and at 1 hour and 57 minutes, I expected it to do that in parts) but for the most part, it didn't. Perry made fairly good use of screen time, pretty much always progressing the plot. The ending is no surprise but the delivery worked enough to have even a jaded movie watcher like myself not sure what to expect, right away.

Overall, like I said, I really liked the movie. Perry surprised me with how well he wrote it. I frequently find myself in his movies wishing the dialogue was like 2 points better so it could be tolerated; this time he brought it up 5 points. I think he got great actors for all the parts. Brian White overacted once or twice, but that happens too. Wesley needed an antagonist, the brother (played by White) as sabatoger sub-plot worked but it never really fleshed out; Walter was an ass and then suddenly, we assume, he wasn't. Not much more to that except watching him just be an ass for the duration of the movie.

I'll give Tyler Perry's Good Deeds 3.5 stars out of 5.

Oh: "Time After Time" HAS to be the most covered song in American Pop history. Seriously. I also appreciated that he put "Right Here Waiting (For You)" in the movie too.

2.16.2012

Emotions Don't Die

Anytime I hear about someone losing someone else close to them I always take pause. Lately I've come to recognize how much loss I've experienced over the years. More than most folks my age. I think often of what it means to grieve and to experience and feel and understand loss.

I'm watching a documentary called The Interrupters. It's about a group of people in Chicago who literally interrupt gang violence. I recommend checking it out if you can. There's a crucial scene of a teen's funeral where the camera focuses on the mother and you see the extreme sadness she's feeling as tears roll down her face, but she's not crying. I don't think I ever really experienced grief or loss or sadness the way I did when my uncle died. Watching the scene of this mother -- she looked tired just as she looked sad -- made me think of sitting on that church pew and feeling the warm tears roll down my face. I was so tired of crying and being sad, but I couldn't stop the tears.

Makes me think that emotions are almost entities in and of themselves; separate from us but still very much apart. If you've ever been so sad for so long, I think you know what I mean. The way you can think there are no more tears left to cry and yet here they come, completely unaided by anything you're doing. You feel whether you acknowledge those feelings or not. You may ignore the sadness (or the anger, or even the happiness or surprise) but that does not mean you're not feeling those feelings. You can ignore the emotions until they don't show and even until you don't know, but they're still there.

Holding feelings in don't stop them from happening. Stops you from dealing with it. Stops others from seeing it, but if it's happening anyway why not let them happen and get them out?

I know. Easier said than done. I have no idea how to do it myself.

2.15.2012

The Irony in the Judgement of Lying

I found out a friend lied to me. We're not BFFs or anything, but I know a lot about her and I do consider her a friend. She previously told me several things that today turned out to be untrue and I get the feeling she didn't realize that she'd outed herself on the lie. In a previous conversation, she told me she'd had a miscarriage only to tell me today it was actually an abortion and that when she told me she miscarried she was actually still pregnant.

There's a lot of stigma around abortions so on the one hand I have a really hard time being upset about her lie but at the same time, why did she think she needed to lie to me? Especially since when she told me about the miscarriage, it was information she'd volunteered to tell me. She had a lot of stuff weighing on her and she needed to get it out, but it seems getting the truth out wasn't what we were going for.

I really don't like being lied to. I don't like a lot of things, but being lied to is up there on the list. There are a lot of reasons this rubs me the wrong way, many of which I'm sure you can relate to, but I think my list of reasons gets different when we start talking about what your lying says about me.

Some people are just liars. I'm not talking about those people and when I assess that an individual I'm associated with is one of those people, I do my best to disassociate and quickly because -- say it with me now -- I don't like being lied to.

The rest of us, though, tend to lie when we feel like we've got no other choice. When we think the truth will rain down a larger consequence than a lie. Sometimes our assessment of the consequences is skewed by momentary or fleeting wishes (like lying to get something). But a lot of the time when we lie, especially about something major, it's to avoid dealing with something else.

In my best estimation, most people lie to their friends to avoid judgement. Whether it's lying to your significant other about whether or not you smoked a cigarette today or lying to your best friend about where you met your new boo, typically we lie to avoid being or feeling judged. Since I believe this, I go out of my way to make people around me feel not judged. Those efforts have had some interesting consequences, like the fact that some my close friends feel a little too comfortable dropping almost anything in my lap and not expecting me to be shocked, but I deal with that if it means that people will be honest with me.

In this same vein, I don't ask a whole lot of questions. I've found that a lot of times folks lie because you just kept asking questions and didn't get the hint that they didn't want to talk about it. I never want to put someone in a position to lie and asking questions a person doesn't want to answer is a great way to fail at that. I let folks tell me what it is they want me to know and I trust that in time they'll open up to me and let me in on what makes them tick. I'm ironically patient in this way.

I'm setting all this up for you to emphasize how easy it is to be yourself around me. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to and you don't have to pretend to be something you're not (unless what you are is in someway harmful to children because that pisses me off) and you don't have to waste breath telling me what you think I want to hear because whatever you want me to hear is fine with me.

So when my friend told me she experienced one really horrible thing (miscarriage) because she was afraid of what I would say to finding out she actually experienced a different horrible thing (I've never personally had an abortion, but knowing people who have, that's not some walk in the park afterwards) I was confused and a little bit hurt. She had been hinting for months that there was a larger story to some of the of the things I was seeing in her behavior and today she finally let it go.

Afterwards she kept remarking at how shocked she was that I didn't think she was a disgusting person and how I seemed to be ok with it; she also kept talking about how good it felt to get everything off her chest. I wanted to mention that had she been honest with me months ago she could've felt some relief a long time ago, but I knew this wasn't the place. It is a truly complicated situation that is actually much larger than the abortion issue. Honestly she's made some decisions that I don't think I would if in that position and that I'm not sure I understand why she made them but none of that is for me to judge because she seems to be in a lot of pain with everything.

What's so terrible about honesty? Especially when you're talking to someone that has demonstrated that she isn't going to make you tell her more than you want to? I think it speaks to how large the fear of judgement is. How we all want desperately to be believed in and to have support. To the importance of connectedness, even -- because when you get right down to it, so what if I judge you? If I disapprove of you -- and disagreeing with things you have done, for the record, is not disapproval of you as a person -- then we lose our connection and human connectedness is so very important, even when we don't recognize it, even when we don't think it is, even when we don't think we need it.

To me, if we're friends and you lie to me it's because you didn't trust me to handle the truth. You thought that instead of being a listening ear, I would immediately judge you and that somehow you would lose the connection we have. You judged me before I had a chance to do anything; ironic, I think, since the lying was in an attempt to avoid allowing me to do what you've already done to me.

And yeah this is deep, maybe deeper than some folks wanna go but sometimes you gotta get to the bottom of something to figure out how to fix it.

2.13.2012

Whitney

In the last few years, I had taken to frequently referring to Whitney Houston as Nippy. For one, her attitude in recent years -- which we know was in direct correlation to her substance abuse -- seemed to beget the name "Nippy" and for two, isn't that a cool nickname? In any case, I like to use nicknames for artists that I feel especially affiliated with, for whatever reason. Tasia Mae, B-Rocka... and Nippy, to name a few. So when Nippy started doing drugs and asking us for receipts (which is truly an epic statement. Truly.) it followed that I would give a side-eye and shake my head and wonder "why Nippy? Why?" She didn't know me, but my soul knew her music and that's deep.

My earliest memories of music in my life include Michael Jackson, Helen Baylor, Michael Bolton and Whitney Houston. By the age of 6, I knew the entire Whitney album front to back and back again. Even now as I, like so many others, listen to every Whitney song we can find, I'm amazed that I still know the lyrics to song I haven't heard in over a decade. As I watched VH1Soul play every Whitney music video ever I couldn't help but get chills and really be cognizant of how amazing she was vocally. Whitney hit her notes every time. She didn't slide into the note, she didn't look for the note, she didn't change the note, homegirl HIT THE NOTE. She was a pioneer for so many little black girls who wanted to see themselves on magazine covers. She successfully made the transition from R&B/Pop starlet to movie star. She showed us what it was to re-make a song -- re-do it so good that people forget there was someone who did it first. Whitney was the consummate entertainer, really. Thorough, amazing, Whitney.

Because she was so great at what she did, it was really easy for us to forget it sometimes. But I think there was a collective breaking of hearts when we heard about her failed attempt at a tour. Concert-goer after concert-goer complained that her voice wasn't right, that she wasn't ready to perform. And when I finally did hear her, I cringed. Her voice of gold seemed like it was gone forever. But we have auto tune and vocal coaches and studios. That wasn't the end of the world, and surely Whitney would be around long enough to really return to greatness so that one day we could be like our parents when they talk about Patti Labelle and Gladys Knight and Diana Ross in their heydey.

I was shocked when Michael died, but only a little. I mean we all knew something wasn't right with MJ, whether we thought it was drugs, or mental illness, or whatever we thought. We were sad to lose such a pioneer, such a musical genius, but could we say we were completely caught off-guard? Whitney, though? Damn. Whitney Houston is dead.

I feel for her daughter. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose my mom even today, but let alone at 18. If you look at pictures of Bobbi Kristina and her mother in recent years you can see the adoration and admiration and love in her eyes. It's precious, but makes Whitney's death just that much more sad.

I hope that we all really reckon with the great loss R&B and Pop just got kicked in the face with. No Whitney Houston? I mean honestly, can you even fathom what the next decade of music will sound like with no Whitney Houston? Just last Thursday she was coaching Brandy and Monica -- two vocal powerhouses in their own right -- no more Whitney Houston coaching the next generation of music legends. No more Whitney Houston making movies with the next generation of big screen stars. No more epic Whitney Houston interviews. Damn.

So like so many other people who are saddened, shocked and grieving, I'm playing all my Whitney Houston music until I can really come to terms with the loss of greatness. I think that can be my contribution towards making sure that we don't forget that Whitney Houston was here, and she did great things for so many people's lives, even if it was just to show us that sometimes talent is all you need, is to keep playing her music.


One of my favs...

2.10.2012

Misery Loves Company

It's not that I didn't think the old adage was true as much as I don't think I understood how true it was until the summer of 2008. My first job after college was in Washington D.C. My mom had a friend who had a sister who was willing to let me stay at her house for a little while so that I would have a chance to get my life together in a brand new city.

I won't bore you with the details of every crazy thing that happened to me, beginning the very first day I arrived at her house, but suffice it to say she never should have agreed to let me live with her.

I moved in in June and by July knew that I had to leave and I had to leave soon. About that time, my office approached me about moving back to my home state for 2 months to do some work there. I jumped at the chance to go back to something familiar for awhile because the crazy lady (my landlady) had really just been chipping away at my mental stability. She constantly threatened to put me out, she belittled the way I was raised (asserting that because I was an only child, I had had everything handed to me) and she did other maniacal things like locking me out of the house and not allowing me to have a key to the deadbolt lock so she always had control over when I could get in and out of the house. I found myself finding any reason, including accompanying a friend to watch her do laundry, to not go back to the house or get back at a time I knew she'd be headed to bed.

I couldn't wait to tell her that I would be moving out at the end of August. She and I discussed whether or not she would allow me to leave my belongings at her house (why I thought that would be a good idea, I don't know) and my life got just a bit more brighter.

Plans changed and my office wanted me to wait until the end of September to leave. I was unhappy but it was good to have more time to search for a place to live. The search for another place to live was an ENTIRELY different story, but I was finding the hunt to be a bit demoralizing. Eventually I decided to take a co-worker up on her offer to sublet her apartment for a month. The same night I made that decision, I informed my landlady that I would be out at the end of the month since I had already paid her August's rent. This was on a Wednesday.

At this point, it's worthwhile to say that the entire week she had been acting weird, even for her. When I would get home, the deadbolt on the door would always be locked which she never did if she was there and, oddly too, she was always there when I got home. One day when I came in the house I asked if she wanted me to set the alarm and, oddly, she said no. She was a very paranoid individual and so I was surprised that she was ok with me not setting the alarm.

Anyway, on that same Wednesday night I also told her that I would be leaving the following weekend for a much-needed trip to the beach. Thursday went by and Friday morning as I descended the stairs with my bag for the weekend in my hand, she stopped me and told me that she wanted me and my things out of the house by 8pm because at that point she would have the locks changed and the change the code to the garage door (which was the way I accessed the house).

I was shocked, of course, but it was just so amazingly crazy that she would do that, that I said "ok" and handed her my key to the house as she asked. I remember calling my mother and laughing to keep from crying as I told her the story. She was the only one who knew all the details of what had happened to me. I kept it all from most of my friends, not wanting them to worry and not really wanting to talk about (thereby face) what was happening. I think she, like me, was a little relieved that it was all over. No matter what happened after, nothing could have - at that time - top what I had just gone through. Or so I thought...

About 2 hrs after I arrived at work my landlady sent me an email saying she had packed up all of my things and they were sitting in the garage. The bottom fell out for me when I read that email. I had held it together pretty well considering she attempted to essentially ruin my mini-vacay weekend, but the thought of her touching my things and throwing them (I was sure she threw - she was crazy) into God knows what and then putting them in the garage. What else could she possibly have done to let me know what she thought about me?

I had great people in the city that summer and so I was ok in terms of somewhere to live and ironically as almost a direct result of her actions, I landed into a wonderful living situation. However I continued to process my experience with her even months after I had moved out of that home and that whole week's craziness continued to play out for me. She had it planned out the entire week to screw me in the end. The reason she kept locking me out and didn't want me to set the alarm was because she had changed the alarm code. When I told her on Wednesday that I was moving out she knew even then that on Friday she planned to tell me to get out. Why did she wait? And why did she tell me I had until 8 only to immediately go pack up my stuff right after I left? She was truly a miserable person and she took each and every bit of her misery out on me for almost 3 months

I've thought about this story a lot since it happened and I know that it's not that big of a deal to most people. Not this little piece. I mean, yeah, it's kinda unfortunate but in the end I was ok, no one died and all was generally well. But honestly, there was so much more in play when this happened to me. I really think back on this time of my life -- the first 3 months of being a fresh-faced college graduate ready to tackle the world and really grow up -- and I seriously wonder how I managed to make it through.

Resiliency is such a key to surviving this world. I have to remind myself that I have it.

1.30.2012

Just Jokes

Something specific did happen to me that inspired this post, but I don't want to detail it because I don't want to get lost (again) in the details of how it made me feel (which was really pretty shitty). I want to focus on the larger thing at play.

I've had two consistent feelings about the way we joke with each other and the way we communicate how we feel.

1) People don't say things they don't mean; people do sometimes say things they didn't mean for you to know they felt. In other words, you believe that really terrible thing you said is true, you just maybe didn't intend for me to hear it, or you loss control of your tact and it came tumbling out, but it was something you've always thought.

2) A lot of truth is said in jest. Think about your favorite comedian. They find humor in every day life. They don't go make up things that don't have a basis in truth somewhere -- that's part of what makes it funny -- it's a thing that happens to everybody.

I've definitely been guilty of saying something hurtful to someone and trying to fix it by saying I was just joking. Sometimes I really did mean it to be funny, but that doesn't -- despite what I might've wanted to imply -- mean I didn't feel that the statement was true.

And so when people say really sucky things to me, about me, whether they say it with a light tone, qualify it as a joke or suddenly tell me they "didn't mean it..." I may laugh and nod along as if I've erased it from my mind, but I haven't. I remember it. I watch for the actions that further confirm that you meant it and more often than not, I have found my belief to be true.

This isn't to suggest we should all just go hard with how we feel or what we think. I believe there's a time and place for everything and sometimes your raw feelings don't have a place outside of your head. But I do believe in owning what you say and dealing with the consequences of that.

Moving to a primarily text-based communication style has also impacted this. There is no tone in an email. We talk about tone - "I didn't like the tone of his email," is a frequent phrase I hear. The truth is the only tone in an email is the tone we assign it when we read it. We draw on assumptions about the person, perhaps based in personal knowledge of them, their emotions at the time of writing it, the purpose of their words and there's also a little bit of how "we would sound" if we had written a similar email.

For me, I also add on the fact that unlike words you say and can't take back, you have the time to write an email or a text message, read it and then send it. In my mind an email (somewhat moreso than a text) oughta be exactly what you wanted me to read -- you had the opportunity to edit it, and this was ultimately what you wanted me to see. That only adds to the weight of the words for me. You really can't take those back, imo.

We have to be more careful with our words. We have to think more highly of our own power via words and start to use them more wisely. Everything we say (or write) won't always be nice or friendly and that isn't the goal. Our words should always have purpose -- even if it's just to make someone laugh. Even in that case, though, it shouldn't be reckless. We should think not only of what we mean but what we expect the other person to think when they read our words. We should strive to be clear (something I fail at consistently -- a lot of times on purpose) and honest when we talk to people, especially those closest to us. We should respect ourselves and the recipients of our thoughts enough to think about it first.

That's all I'm saying.

1.26.2012

The Trouble With Emotion

About a week and a half ago I saw a tweet from a pseudo-celebrity I follow on Twitter that said something to the effect of her success being directly attributed to not showing emotion. I took immediate issue with the general sentiment of the tweet and went into my own mini-sermon about how dangerous it can be to think not showing emotion is a successful feat.

Our society trains our men to not show emotion; we define a person's level of masculinity, in part, along the lines of how much emotion they show. Cry too much? Not a man. Get giddy too often? Not a man. And you know what, that is not working out so well for the men in our society. They gravitate to aggression and anger as the only acceptable forms of emotional outlet. While acceptable emotions in and of themselves, you can't always be aggressive or angry and not expect to have some long term fails in your life, be it in your relationships or within yourself. So it's beyond me why we think that in order to be successful, truly successful, we have to not show emotion.

Before I really go into this, I do want to be clear that not showing emotion and controlling emotion are not the same. One can quickly lead to the other, but just because you are generally in control of your emotions doesn't mean you're not showing emotion; it means you know that it's appropriate to feel a range of emotions and you also know how and when to appropriately express them. For example, you know that when your boss adds one more thing to your overflowing plate it's acceptable to be angry or irritated, but it is not ok to show those emotions by flipping your desk or kicking people.

I really think that I would be in an entirely different life space if I knew how to show emotion; I think that in order to be successful (which for me extends beyond any wealth level into my personal life) I'm going to have to get a hold of it and learn how to do it.

When I look back on relationships that didn't work out like I had hoped, whether I was the straw that broke it or not, I can usually pinpoint my not showing emotion as a key to the undoing. It is really hard to be with someone when you don't feel sure of how they feel about you. I usually try to redirect my inability to show my emotion into actions; doing things to say "I love you" or "I care about you" but sometimes people want and need more than that.

I used to be of the mindset that a person would just have to learn to deal with it, but I've sincerely come to realize that this is a me-thing; this isn't a character flaw that we just have to adjust to, this is a thing that I have to handle if I want to have meaningful relationships (and if you read this blog, you know that's important to me).

Sometimes people just want you to be happy for them and show it. I may genuinely be excited for a person but struggle to show them that. Jumping up and down, changing the inflection in my voice, raising my eyebrows and smiling: all things that might show excitement but that I fail at doing. I can think of many reasons to explain how I've evolved into this, but in my opinion they don't matter. What matters is me making efforts to be better than I have been.

I know other people like me and I hear what people say about them. How people feel shunned because the person won't ever express how they feel, how folks think the person hates them when the person actually cares deeply for them, all because they've never heard them say it or seen anything to suggest it. I don't doubt it's been said about me. In fact, I remember a dear friend sharing good news with me and me responding and her saying, "why can't you just be happy for me?!" I thought what I said conveyed how happy I was for her, but I realized my flat affect definitely made what I said sound sarcastic.

And don't get me wrong, it's a struggle to be different than you have been, both within yourself and for others. When I try harder to inject emotion in my voice, folks think I'm trying to be funny and that can be discouraging to me since I already feel like I sound insincere (though I'm really not). It's easier to just do what I've always done, but I have good feelings about 2012 and I shall do my part to make sure it's the best it can be.

Starting with these emotions...

1.24.2012

Dating How You Shop

During a break in one of the sessions of a weekend-class I have, several of my classmates and I stood around joking about a list of qualities one of them made. Another classmate told her that if she made a list of qualities she wanted in a mate and posted it on her fridge, she'd have a long-term relationship in 6 months. I can speak to neither the legitimacy of this claim nor the seriousness of the suggester (though if anyone does it and has some luck, let me know); however my classmate's list definitely sparked conversation.

At the top of her list was "breathing" and it went on to include "able to walk or run for 30 minutes," "brain," "between the ages of 25 and 70," "doesn't hate women," and "5'3 - 6'7." We all laughed a little because we know her dating history and know that she's tired of looking and ready to get serious.

As our conversation progressed, I mentioned that I'd heard about a book that suggested people who were looking for long-term mates do some work on themselves like living as if they already had a mate (e.g. making time in their schedule, making room in their residence) or writing themselves a love letter as if their ideal mate wrote it. Another classmate discussed a book she'd heard about that said most daters fell into two types: maximizers and satisfiers.

Maximizers are the ones who always think they can do better; they want to maximize their decision. Even when they're in a happy relationship with a person who has most of the qualities they want, they wonder whether or not they could do better. They're like the person who goes on the hunt for a black dress and puts a dress on hold at every store they can find just to be sure they don't miss out on the perfect dress at the perfect price.

Satisfiers, on the other hand, find what they're looking for and are satisfied. It never occurs to them that there might be someone out there with more of the qualities they're looking for than the person they've found. Or if it does occur to them, it doesn't matter because they found something that works. When they go shopping for that black dress, they may go to more than one store, but when they find one that meets all the requirements, they buy it and go home.

As we all discussed the pros and cons to both ways of dating (or shopping) somebody who self-described as a satisfier, added that she was satisfied until she had a reason not to be. When she met someone new who met her required qualifications she would date them right up until it didn't work. Like when shopping for a black dress, she'd purchase the first one that worked, but if she got it home and it didn't fit right or had holes in it, she'd take it back.

The classmate who'd written the list had an a-ha moment. She shared that when she bought a new black dress that she thought would work, even if she found out she it didn't, she still hung it up in her closet. Similar to her significant others, she often held on to relationships far past the moment she knew it wasn't what she wanted or wasn't working out.

"Maybe you need to change how you shop so you can change how you date." I remarked. Maybe we all should.

1.23.2012

Who Has the Power?

I do a lot of ranting on my twitter timeline about how we're failing our kids and how they act up and out and work my nerves.

Just to catch everyone up, I'm in school to earn a degree that will allow me to help kids succeed in school; that is if I'm in a school that believes a strong counseling program in conjunction with a generally supportive school environment, great teachers and support for parents, yields excellent results.

This semester we're at a middle school; I've been excited about this internship. I've had a lot of experience over the years working with teens so my internship last semester was just more experience on top of what I had but this time I'm doing something familiar but still a little different. In my middle school I work primarily with 6th and 8th graders and every day is a new lesson for them and me.

I also really want to add that I find myself telling them stuff that I turn around and tell my undergrads, which is a whole other issue -- why 18+ yr olds need to hear the same thing 12 yr olds need.

So Thursday one of my 6th graders barged in and complained that she told a new friend (the student is, herself, new) a secret about herself. The secret was pretty juicy and the new friend had no qualms about telling her friends the secret and of course those friends came in the next day and told their friends -- the secret was all over the 6th grade by lunch and they had a ball walking up to this student and calling her vulgar names. She was understandably very upset and wanted some answers.

I switched into Counselor Ranger and got everything between the girls squared away and assured the student that while the kids would probably continue to be mean for the rest of the week, by Monday everyone would have forgotten all about her secret and moved on to the next person.

As right as I was, I know that the truth here is less that these people were calling her names and more that she entrusted a piece of herself to someone who misused it. To that point, I harped heavily on the importance of being careful who you share your secrets with. When initially confronted, the friend claimed that she had never been told not to tell, so I asked her to consider when she tells her friends something personal whether or not she assumes they know that it's not to be repeated, she did. So I cautioned them both to be a lot more careful about who they tell stuff to.

As I've thought more about the situation, I've felt like this was absolutely a situation that a lot of adults could learn from. How often are we too free with things that are personal and private, only to be so shocked when we find out someone we trusted told it to others?

In high school I told a guy that I liked him. It wasn't a secret, like "no one can ever know...really, but I thought the conversation was just between us. I found out two years later that almost all of our friends (and some folks I didn't know) knew and had been talking about the incident when I wasn't around. My mind raced as to all the things they might've said about me, maybe laughing at me for thinking I could date this guy or for being so forward; I could only imagine the things said that I would never know about. So what if that had been a much more personal item? My 14 yr old self might've been devastated.

Everyone isn't equipped to hold your stuff. Meaning, everyone doesn't have the skill it takes to become aware of a sensitive piece of you and then keep it to themselves. Some people have to pass off the weight of a heavy secret as quickly as possible and as another counselor said today "knowledge is power, especially in middle school" -- he wasn't referring to academics. When you know something about someone else that no one or not a lot of people know, you have power. So it follows that if you tell someone something about you that not a lot of people know, you give them power. Be careful who your power goes to.

And let me be clear that I'm not saying don't share yourself with people. I'm saying, as I said to my 6th graders, be CAREFUL who you share yourself with. Every piece of you is one more piece of power and not everyone can handle power; it's intoxicating.

1.16.2012

Unnecessary Mediating

I wasn't going to admit the following, but you all love me, right? This post was inspired by my watching the Real Housewives of Atlanta. This isn't the first otime, but you know... sometimes you have to ask yourself why what inspires you, inspires you... that's another post.

Nene and Sheree and Nene and Kim aren't friends anymore. They used to be, but after a fight between them (one with Nene and Kim, the other with Nene and Sheree), they no longer see the point in direct association (hard to do when you're on the same tv show, but not my problem). If you don't watch the show, that's ok, this is all you need to know to understand where I'm going.

At dinner a well-intentioned, but nevertheless annoying, Mama Joyce (a pseudo-cast mate, mother to a real cast mate) first lectured the ladies about their continuing to not speak, and then insisted that they each speak to each other. I assume Mama Joyce has to at least know what I know about why these women are no longer friends, but I'm willing to bet she knows even more information than I, the casual viewer, does. So it begs the question: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU WOMAN?

I have so been here before. Both places, actually. The well-intended mediator and one of the parties needing mediation. I can say, with relative ease, that a good general rule of thumb is to just mind your own business. I'm reading a book right now called Odd Girl Out which examines the ways girls bully each other and the role popularity can play into it. According to this book (and as I know from my own life and observations) being the middle girl can actually be a pretty powerful spot and I think sometimes when we aim to be in the middle it's partly a power play. We want to be able to say we fixed this hole; but what if the hole is actually a crater?

In high school I had 2 good friends. Sometime early in our senior year, one friend decided she no longer had use for the other friend. It was actually relatively bloodless. There was no fight, no rumor-mill, no drama. Friend 1 just decided, on her own, that she no longer would speak to Friend 2.

This was fine, except the three of us, nicknamed the Three Musketeers by our friends and teachers, almost literally spent every free moment together, especially at school and we even had a class together. The tension of them not speaking, mixed with the pressure of Friend 2 wanting me to get intel on what was going on caused me to first withdraw from them. In the class we shared, while normally I would cycle between them at the adjacent tables they'd chosen as "theirs" early in the year, after this impromptu dismissal, I took to sitting in the back of the room by myself or up at the teacher's desk (I'm a liberty taker...)

That worked fine for about a week, but after a week, I'd had enough and I wanted some answers, too. I kept telling Friend 2 that we would get it figured out -- I had hoped time would shake loose the issue but when it became apparent that wouldn't work, I got active. First I asked Friend 1 to stick around after school one day and showed up with Friend 2 hoping I could leave them alone and let them talk. When I returned 20 minutes later, I found Friend 2 alone. She said Friend 1 had been fairly short with her saying she had nothing to say and then left.

About a week after that, I tried again, having Friend 2 call me while I was at Friend 1's house and then handing Friend 1 the phone. Friend 1 stepped into another room, took the call and less than 5 minutes later returned. When I spoke to Friend 2 she said that again Friend 1 said she didn't have anything to say, there was no beef and hung up.

I had some business in this relationship, as it effected my own with each of them, but I really shouldn't have stuck my nose so far into it. Friend 1 was a major asshat for how she went about the whole thing, but I put Friend 2 in several really awkward situations without a real plan. Much like Mama Joyce, I unintentionally made things worse when no one really asked me for my help. I guess I was too afraid to confront Friend 1 about the issue, but either way I needed a stadium of seats. Who was I to dictate who needed to be friends and how a friendship could end? The largest of missteps I made was making it about me. I was uncomfortable, I wanted things like they were, I wanted everyone to get along and not one time did I actually ask either girl what she wanted. In the end, Friend 2 didn't really want to be friends again as much as she just wanted to know what happened. All of my efforts were truly in futility.

During her nose-shoving, Mama Joyce told the women several times that she wished they'd just go back to how they used to be. Oh how that grinds my gears.




I immediately went back to the summer after I graduated from high school. Much like she summarily dismissed Friend 2 the previous year, Friend 1 summarily dismissed my ass after we graduated. I would tell many people, that summer and into the first year of college, that I don't know why I watched her do this to Friend 2 and never considered she'd do it to me, but I did. Call it being young and stupid, or maybe being overconfident, I don't know, but there I was, the summer after high school when I thought I'd be living up the last few months of not-adulthood with my closest friends from high school, only to actually spend a lot of time alone. Sure, I had other friends and I definitely saw them, but many of my close friends, the ones with whom I wanted to reminisce on high school with, the ones I'd spent so much time with the previous 9 months, if not 5 years, felt sides had to be chosen and they chose her side. Even the friends I brought to our friendship. It hurt.

And on top of all that, dealing with what it means to lose a friend so suddenly and without warning, and worrying about how I would adjust to college, the ones who WOULD talk to me only wanted to talk to me about what I needed to do to make it right. "Why can't you guys just go back to the way things were?" I never asked anyone what it was she was saying about me -- part of me didn't want to know, and part of me knew it didn't matter. But whatever they were being told made them believe that I had the power to fix it. I had no power. She had determined when our friendship began and then she decided when it ended. I wanted us to go back to how we were, but why was it my responsibility to get that ball rolling?

What probably aggravated me most was that whether these individuals had been told what happened, or not, they didn't think enough of the situation to ask me what my side of it was. No one asked me "what happened" everyone just said some version of "fix it" or "go back to the way things were..." as if our beef -- if you can call it that -- had some long term effect on their lives. I was dealing with the loss of what I thought had been a pretty good friendship, only to find out that it had never been a real two-way friendship to begin with.

All this ranting begs the question though: if you've got two friends fighting, don't you owe it to them to try to mend broken relationships? Yes. Yes you do. If you think it's reparable and you think you're the one to get that done, get in there. But I caution you to be sure that you're not wanting them to mend the relationship for you -- it sure is a lot nicer for you when your two friends aren't beefing, or are still friends, but if that's not what's best for them, you can be sure it won't be what's best for you in the long run.

Plus, people change. They really do. And sometimes the changing leaves one or both parties confused about how to move forward and the lack of social skill or knowledge causes one to just drop it. If you're not really talking to them about what's going on in their head, there's no way you can know how reparable a situation is. If they've both become people the other doesn't want to be around, then you can't force that. It's tantamount to trying to force two magnets of the same charge to be anywhere near each other: a true effort in futility.

And as for situations you're not even in? Honey, leave that be. Especially if you're talking about grown folks. For two people to repair their relationship, there has to be two willing parties and if you don't even have any skin in that game, you will most likely NOT be the impetus for that willingness.

I have, since high school, had a couple of other friendships between two people I was close to end (that is, they weren't friends, but I continued to be friends with both). Continues to be an awkward situation, especially if one of them pretends like nothing has changed. The one thing I've stopped doing is even wishing in my own head that things would go back to they way they were. Everything isn't meant to be stagnant and that's ok.

1.09.2012

Top 10 of 2011

FINALLY...

Why did this take me so long to do? I almost just didn't do it, but you know, I had started compiling the list and I had to finish.

They're listed in order they were posted, earlier to most recent.

Top 10 posts on Diamond Dust from 2011

On Marriage
Gifts
Conflicts of Interest
Dream Slayers
Life Lessons and So Forth
Mismatched
Closure
The Sex Post
Everything I Know About Cheating I Learned from 90s Girl Groups
Making Time
Parenting and Why BSS Isn’t The Answer

1.06.2012

2012

I've never really been big into resolutions. I'm just as apt to make a change in my life in January as I am in October. That sort of thing has way more to do with where I am in my head than where we are on a calendar.

Because of my profession and who I am at my core, and because everyone has wanted recaps of my trip, I've been processing different events/situations that occurred over my birthday weekend. I can't be clear enough that I had the time of my life with some really amazing people. I can honestly only think of maybe one or two individuals who weren't there who would've made it more complete, but everyone who WAS there was an integral part. That being said, there were seemingly innocuous situations that now that I've had time to reflect on, weren't all that innocuous.

One unintended birthday present I got was coming to a better understanding of what it is I don't understand about a couple of relationships that matter a shit ton to me. And in processing all that, I came to realize this role I play in a lot of my friendships that end with me holding the short end of the stick.

Just a day or so ago I was putting a bag together with items I would need at my internship. One of those items is a small spiral notebook that I use to keep up with what I'm doing during the day so that I can fill out a monthly report showing that I am obtaining the hours necessary to be licensed at the end of this graduate school journey. As I flipped through the notebook I found a little place where out of boredom or perhaps anxiousness I wrote a few lines about not feeling close to anyone except maybe my BFF. I go on to say that I'm surrounded by a bunch of emotional sucks (double entendre here) and how much I miss (get ready for this) J, my ex, because of how plain I was able to be with him.

I didn't write that all that long ago but as I re-read it all that played in my mind was an encounter with a friend NYE night after we'd all made it home. She kept asking me what I was thinking. Repeatedly she asked and I mostly remained quiet. When I did speak it was to say that I wasn't thinking about anything or that I didn't know what I was thinking. Truth was I didn't think she and I should have the conversation about what it was that I was thinking, but why didn't I just say that? Maybe it's because I was inebriated, or maybe it was because I couldn't get a firm grip around my thoughts, but there I was, someone genuinely interested in what was going on with me and I shut down.

Tell me that ain't sabotaging a good thing because you have too many damn issues to let the good thing happen to you...

I can really come up with some good explanations about why I did that, that doesn't involve me accepting that maybe I just don't have the good sense to let people not be emotional sucks, but I won't. Truth is, I just didn't know how to let the good thing happen and just open up...

In 2012, one of my plans is to wake up and recognize when someone's trying to be the individual I keep saying I don't have in my life and then chill out and let them do it.

Of course this has me now wondering what other areas of my life space are there opportunities for me to chill out and let someone be something important for me...

1.02.2012

My Birthday

I celebrated 25 years of life this past Friday and had a blast extending that celebration through the entire NYE weekend with some of my most favorite people, including my BFF.

Y'all need to know that my BFF went above and beyond and above and beyond to ensure that I had a great time. ::sigh:: it was just awesome. That's why there's no wrap up post, no "Top 10 of 2011" post (but one will be on the way). I was having way too much fun with people I love the mess out of (and who apparently love me too!)

I have to say, I was worried right up until the week of about this. I think I put a lot of pressure on myself to make this an amazing birthday and also had decided that if it was a bust that was an indicator of... well, I hadn't thought that far out but it felt wrong.

Anyway, whatever fears I had, I had to let go the week of because that was getting stressful and really, what could I do? Relax, that's what I could do and when I did... I swear to high heaven it opened it up for me to have a blast.

It was a "no evidence" weekend so whatever facebook album gets piece-mealed together won't tell the story but aren't those the best weekends? I don't think I can thank these people enough and I know they have no idea what a big deal this was for me and how I'll cherish this for a really long time.

The thing about my birthday is that it comes at the very end of the year and so I get to take a day of being a "new" age and reflect over my last year and think about the next year and a quarter of a century is ripe for consideration of what has happened and what will happen. I didn't get a lot of time to reflect, being either drunk or otherwise un-sober through the majority of this trip but I have a feeling that I'm in for an amazing 2012 if how my 25th year got started is any indication.

12.23.2011

How Race Slowed The Investigation of a Double Homicide

I love crime shows, especially crime docs like Forensic Files and Cold Case Files. Lately I’ve been watching a show on Netflix called Crime 360. In this reality show, cameras follow the investigation of homicides that are solved in part by using technology that allows crime techs to “freeze” a crime scene just as it is at the time of discovery for use later if detectives need to see the scene for some purpose after clean-up at the actual site has occurred.

Over the course of 2 seasons, the show was filmed in Richmond, VA; Indianapolis, IN; Rochester, NY and Cleveland, OH. I’ve been watching for several days now, about an episode a day, and I quickly realized that approximately 90-95% of the victims were of color (mostly black) and with the exception of one of the episode I’m about to discuss, 100% of the perps were of color (mostly black). All of the victims have been male and young and “in that life” as well as the perps. To a certain degree I believe I’ve continued to watch this show just to see how many black men are killing other black men and how much of that a television show would air.

You have to wonder how many homicide investigations they filmed and how they chose to air the ones they chose to air. Two episodes I watched back-to-back were almost completely opposite in every way, except for the city they were filmed in; both were in Indianapolis.

In the first episode we come up on a homicide of a young black male. It appears that a shootout between two groups of people occurred and the victim was shot during that time. He managed to run to a back alley where he collapsed and died. The investigation went just as several others had gone: the lead investigator rounded up any possible witnesses and questioned them, came up with a list of suspects, and continued to use physical and forensic evidence to help him guide where he looked for more information until finally he was able to determine who shot the victim.

In the second episode, we come upon a double homicide of 2 older white males. Both are retired professionals and we learn (needlessly, I think) that they are gay (homophobia actually runs a bit rampant in this show, but that’s a topic for another post). Just like the prior episode and most of the others, the lead detective gathers witnesses and uses evidence to figure out where to go next in his search.

Both episodes end with the arrests of the suspect(s) but one takes a bit longer than the other to solve and I believe it has to do with race.

Read the rest here

12.20.2011

My Reasons For Living Alone

When I was 14 years old, a friend of mine and I made unofficial pacts with ourselves that we wouldn't ever move in with a significant other unless we were at least engaged. I projected out a lot of things about my future at 14 that either haven't come true or I know won't. For obvious reasons I'm a lot different at (almost) 25 than I was at 14, but this has been one of the things that has continued to hold true.

I think at 14 the impetus for my friend and I had heavy roots in our Christian beliefs. We had been told that it was un-Christian for two people in a relationship who weren't married to live together. I don't dispute this. I actually recently did some relatively thorough research in the Bible and while there is no verse that says anything about two people in a relationship not living together, there are enough verses that the case can be made that you just shouldn't.

My reasoning, however, has changed a little bit. It's not rooted in my religious beliefs but rather in my practical ones.

On an episode of "Love & Hip Hop" Chrissy and Emily talk about Em's relationship with the rapper Fabolous. During Chrissy's diary portion that interjects, she shares that she got emotional talking to Emily about her situation because it reminded her (Chrissy) so much of her own with rapper Jim Jones. It was well-documented last season that Chrissy was tired of just being Jim's girlfriend and wanted to be his wife.

I think it's actually fairly obvious that for Jim, Chrissy is it. She's the one he wants to grow old with. It also seems, however, that for him, marriage isn't a necessary step towards that happening and I can't say that I don't see why myself. Why would you bother spending the money or the time to get married when in many states it doesn't take very long to be considered common law husband and wife AND if your relationship is trucking along just fine?

I'm certainly not anti-marriage and in fact my non-anti-marriage status is exactly the practical belief I'm referencing as the basis for my personal decision. Studies show that most couples who live together either don't get married or if they do, end in divorce more frequently than those who waited until after they were engaged or already married to live together.

I surely do not judge those who choose to live with their significant others either as a "trial run" or just because they want to. The friend alongside whom I made this pact actually now lives with her boyfriend and while I don't doubt they've discussed marriage, I haven't heard her talk much about a possible engagement and I have to ask myself if I don't see how that makes sense. In my mind I just can't come up with enough reasons to rock a boat that appears to be working just fine. For those who don't know or can't fathom the seriousness that marriage places upon a relationship it may seem like an unnecessary step; for those of us who can, it may seem like a dauntingly unnecessary step once we've gotten comfortable with just sharing the same space with our partner.

Because I'm marriage-minded and hope that it is in my future I do want to give my relationship every opportunity to be successful and if one way I can do that is by avoiding co-habitation, then by all means, let's git 'r done. Not to mention I'm of the opinion that moving in sends the wrong signals. What is there to work towards if everything about a marriage you get without the seriously deep (not to mention, legal) commitment of a ring and a ceremony? We place more weight - at least in this hetero-normed society and in heterosexual relationships - on a wife than we do a girlfriend. I think about my recently deceased uncle: his ex-wife had more weight in his life than his current girlfriend and I've seen the same thing played out in other situations. There is something very loving and respectful about wanting someone to take a step further and be your wife, no longer your girlfriend.

The other thing I think I fear is being "tricked" into changing my mind about marriage. I hear people in long-term committed, but not married or engaged - relationships say they're happy but I often wonder if it's true. Sometimes when we know what's going on and we can tell that things won't change, we adapt ourselves to the situation so we don't have to deal with the mental anguish it causes. In other words, I'm living with my boyfriend and after 3 years it becomes clear to my marriage-minded sensibilities that Billy Bob has not nan intention of proposing and I recognize that I can end this 3+ yr relationship over that or I can get with the program and see things his way. I'm almost wanting to throw up typing that but this really happens to people all the time and I really don't want it to happen to me. I don't want to forget that marriage is something I want just because it's easier to do that than to fight for it (which may not entail actual fighting as much as making different decisions).

So I'm holding on to my plan to avoid co-habitation until there's a sign of impending long-term commitment either via a ring or a marriage certificate. That's my personal decision and I think it will serve me well; I know folks who have made different decisions and for them it also has seemed to turn out well. I'm happy for them but I'll stick to this path until it seems to be headed the wrong way.

11.26.2011

Thanks

Yeah, it's post-Thanksgiving, but you're supposed to be thankful year-round, no?

I'm thankful for my family. I'm SUPER thankful for them. There are so many things I wish were true about us -- like that our whole family was closer, or that we were better communicators -- but I'm SO thankful that they are mine.

I don't believe I talk a lot about my extended family. I don't see them as extended, as if to say they don't matter as much as my immediate family. I see them simply as my family. Supportive, caring, concerned, etc...

That's it. That's all I got. Thankful for my family. I'm thankful for lots, my family is at the top.

11.07.2011

How You Feel

I really wish our society were better at teaching itself how to properly express emotion.

Expression of emotion is far more than just "showing the exact degree to which I feel (enter emotion)". There's an element of self-awareness that goes along with it that I think is actually why we, as a society, don't express emotion well.

Last night, after getting my fill of positivity by watching Black Girls Rock on BET, I switched over to watch the re-air of Real Housewives of Atlanta. towards the end of the episode, Nene and Sheree had a classic Nene and Sheree altercation in which they both started off in a very "I'm better than this" manner and quickly descended into "I will return to my 6 year old self and say every bad thing I know about you in an attempt to hurt your feelings." I've talked about how people -- black women -- tend to argue with each other, especially when they're of a certain (perceived) status. This scene was both classic Nene and Sheree as well as classic inability to say what you're really feeling.

Later in the episode, we see Nene literally crying on the shoulder of a friend about how upset she is that Sheree believed another person before coming to her. It was kinda sad, but definitely bewildering, to see Nene crying like that after she had just had quite the shouting match with her (sometimes) friend.

What came out of Nene as anger and/or irritation, it turns out, was actually hurt and sadness and either she didn't know how or didn't feel safe enough to express the hurt and went for the anger.

While reviewing a lesson plan intended for 5th graders where you talk with them ab out emotions, I asked my professor and classmates about one part where the lesson plan suggests that if, when appropriately prompted, a student said they would be angry at the given situation, to go with that instead of re-directing them to the "surprised" emotion the lesson actually was trying to pull out of them. (the set up was that you're playing soccer and suddenly trip and fall over a hole in the ground, twisting your ankle). "Doesn't that do them a disservice?" I asked. "Don't you want to help them understand that the anger they think they feel is really surprise and maybe irritation?"

We just aren't good at saying how we really feel both because we sometimes don't know how we really feel and also because we don't always feel safe to share it.

But you know what emotion is always safe? Anger. People fear anger, people comply with anger, people seem to respect anger. It's amazing to me how easy it is for the same person who can't show their hurt, to show their anger. I get the vulnerability piece, and so I guess what truly amazes me is that we don't see anger for the vulnerability it causes. If you just take a second to think of all the dumb things you've ever said or done simply out of anger, however, you'll probably get the vulnerability piece I'm referencing. I myself can easily think of situations where I let anger or apathy takeover because I just didn't want to "go there in my feelings..."

All of this would be well and good except that it hinders our ability to really communicate. If Nene had either known how or felt safe enough to tell Sheree, "listen, I'm really sincerely hurt that you would believe this man having never checked with me" and if Sheree felt that sincerity, their whole conversation would've gone differently. Both of them wanted an apology from the other and neither of them knew how to extract it in a healthy way.

I'm reminded of an exchange I had with a friend one time where I think I was just frustrated with their backwards ass way of showing affection. So many times I've heard people say "I wouldn't (enter annoying/harmful/stupid thing) if I didn't love you..." and think that was ok. This friend was one of those people, though they weren't even keen on saying that much. I was just supposed to know that when it felt like they were mentally and emotionally poking me over and over with a pen, it meant they trusted me and cared about me. It didn't help that they were miserable at the time, themselves. In any case, one day I had had enough. I was having a bad day and here this friend comes needing me to support them through yet another day of self-imposed bullshit and I literally didn't have it in me to go there, so I shut down, as I'm apt to do when I feel something but either don't know how or don't feel safe enough to express it. They picked up on my shutting down as anger (an emotion everyone is really good at expressing) and fell apart in my little hands. Just about anything I'd ever wanted to hear them say, I got out of them that day. Not since then, though.

That emotional inability -- both my friend's to really just tell me that I was appreciated and mine to adequately express that I was feeling smothered and annoyed -- is like emotional blackmail. If you're not expressing your real feelings in an attempt to extract a particular emotion from me, that's wrong and you need to cut it out.

I'll end with an example I think we can all see in our own lives: A man meets a woman he's really interested in. He thinks she's great, maybe even the one. His only problem is that he's already got a boo-thang who he thinks he might be in love with. He's pretty sure if he tells either about the other, they'll both tell him to kick rocks and so he doesn't tell either about the other. His inability to choose means two women think they have something real and one of, if not both of them, are in for a rude awakening. This is the same thing that happens when you can't express your emotions adequately. I'm thinking you feel one way and I respond to you accordingly only to find out you feel another...

Not the business, yo.

10.29.2011

Choice

I often talk about the motifs in my life. Often my blog posts come from seeing something happen (usually to me) over and over again in a short period of time.

I also recently decided that I'm on the autism scale. To some that might read as insensitive or improper or maybe even ignorant. That's fine. In whatever case, I have decided that; additionally, one of the symptoms of some forms of mild autism is the rapt attention paid to patterns (it is worth noting that exactly what symptoms are indicative of autism seems to vary from medical professional to medical professional, but there are some symptoms that most agree on and I haven't found "noticing patterns" to be one of those). My self-diagnosed, most likely non-existent, extremely mild almost unnoticeable case of autism leads me to draw a lot of conclusions about life.

The latest conclusion I've drawn is that our society has determined that choice is a form of absolution. If I can prove you had a choice, I can prove that you were at fault for what happened (or didn't happen) to you.

I use this when I work with children all the time. I give them a choice, they suffer the consequences (and we all know I'm big on consequences and repercussions). The point is always to teach a lesson on a)good decision making b) consequences and repercussions and often c)shutting the hell up and listening.

I see it play out sometimes when I'm talking to a friend who's upset because her boyfriend chose to spend time with his friends instead of her. The implication being, of course, he made the wrong decision and so it follows that she would be upset about this.

This line of reasoning actually works out very well. You have a choice, you make a choice and then things happen. The only person to be upset with is yourself. It is this very logical line of reasoning that often leads to me telling people that no, I won't be accompanying them to a certain place for these certain reasons because it is my choice and if I should so happen to make the wrong one the only person who gets screwed (in the not good way) is me. Period.

But what if this choice thing is just an illusion? What if it appears that an individual had a choice that they didn't really have? Can I still say they deserve whatever comes to them? What constitutes choice anyway?

My most favorite dictionary, dictionary.com, defines choice as follows:
choice [chois] Show IPA noun, adjective, choic·er, choic·est.
noun
1.
an act or instance of choosing; selection: Her choice of a computer was made after months of research. His parents were not happy with his choice of friends.
2.
the right, power, or opportunity to choose; option: The child had no choice about going to school.
3.
the person or thing chosen or eligible to be chosen: This book is my choice. He is one of many choices for the award.
4.
an alternative: There is another choice.
5.
an abundance or variety from which to choose: a wide choice of candidates.
6.
something that is preferred or preferable to others; the best part of something: Mare's Nest is the choice in the sixth race.
7.
a carefully selected supply: This restaurant has a fine choice of wines.
8
a choice grade of beef.
These words "right" and "power" and "opportunity" and "option" suggest to me that choice is a big damn deal.

I'll tell you what's got me thinking so specifically about choice. I just finished watching a documentary called The Price of Pleasure which aims to generally explore, among other things, how choice (liberty), commercialism, sex, money, capitalism and even feminism all play together in the creation and consumption of pornography. One theme I kept hearing in the interviews with individuals I presumed to be casual consumers of porn was "choice." In one part, where the documentary brings the ATM (ass to mouth) genre up, a man who is completely anonymous (you can't see his face and his voice is distorted) explains that while it does seem to be a very disgusting thing for a woman to do, he always assumes that the women in these films choose to do it and so it's fine.

I was really appalled at his statement. Perhaps I was more appalled at the way in which I could tell even he wondered if what he was saying was true, but that the opportunity (oh look, a code word) to absolve (oh look, another code word) himself of any real responsibility (however small) in the degradation of another human being was just too good to pass up. One interviewee in the film was a former porn actor who said, "When your best choice is taking off your clothes and sticking toys in your cunt for money, I think there's a real problem with the labor system." That sort of struck a nerve with me, too. "Your best choice..."

It seems that others' choice can absolve us of responsibility, but not the individual. That's kind of odd

See the problem with the logic behind the idea that if you have a choice and you make a decision, whatever comes of it you deserve, is the suggestion that all your choices are equal. Or even that you had a say in what those choices were.

Choosing between spending quality time with your girl or your boys is way different from choosing between eating today because you got paid to take your clothes off or not eating for an indefinite amount of time because you didn't.

This also brings me around to the story of Amber Cole (I'm going to trust your google skills are as good as mine if you don't know who she is). As usual the media went straight for her and all the bad choices she made. Some bloggers even got really novel and went after the bad choices her parents made. It's just now rising up in people's consciousness to wonder what in the hell was wrong with the three boys who made some disgusting choices themselves. For whatever reason, though, generally the opinion has been that Amber Cole had a choice, she made it and now she suffers the consequences: being pseudo-famous at 14 for performing oral sex on another underage youth and having it videotaped, which I guess, if you're no longer 14, is hard to understand or really grasp how amazingly terrible that is for her and will continue to be for her for quite a while.

Amber had choices. She did. She made the wrong one. But there's more to choice than looking at A or B and picking the prettier one. When we make decisions we have a lot of things to consider. Not just consequences but end goals and wants; dreams and hopes; plans. For some folks the plan is to eat today so the choice has to be whichever one will bring food. That seems to be something more of us can understand. But what about the hope to be liked? Or appreciated? If you're 14 and you see that the people you perceive as being liked or appreciated in a manner you want to be liked or appreciated perform oral sex (or other sexual favors) for guys, AND the specific person from whom you want attention and love gives you very specific things to do (perform oral sex) to get love from them, then I suppose I can see why Amber Cole thought that was her best choice. When you're no longer 14, it can be hard to remember how pressingly important it was to be liked and appreciated by your peers and if you've never been a 14 year old girl who may or may not find the attention of boys to be a confidence booster then you really won't ever understand why performing oral sex on a boy while being videotaped seems like the best choice.

This choice thing has also played out in the conversation about the 99% where the ignorance of those who are more fortunate shows up every time. Recently an article in my alma mater's school newspaper had a more than a few people feeling a little disgust. In an article titled We Are the 1%, the author argues that the individuals who attend this Top 20 ranked school are apart of the 1% because statistically speaking most of them have scored consistently higher than others on tests, and worked harder and done more to be able to reap the rewards of a Top 20 education. He says,
I guess the loudest members of the Bottom 99 percent are just resentful because we worked hard while they were out having a good time. If they really want to climb the social ladder, what they should be doing now is working hard, improving their lives and join the ranks of the top 25 percent, who still have it very good (if indeed they aren’t already a part of that group). Even the bottom 25 percent still has it relatively good in America, compared to the lower class in many other countries.
The point of course being that those who don't make the cut, however you're slicing the pie, have only themselves to blame. They chose not to work as hard. They chose not to do as much. They chose to be at the bottom.

This is the epitome of institutionalized racism. And though this article wasn't about race, didn't argue specifically that the reason black unemployment is so high is because black folks are lazy; didn't say that women make less than men in 2011 because men are better, the prevailing notion that those who don't have don't have because they didn't work hard or pull themselves up by the bootstraps is there front and center and it's that same argument -- which is really about choice -- that has kept a lot of good things from coming to those who deserve it most.

It's not a choice when you're choosing between bullshit and bullshit. It's not a choice when your short-term well being (physical, emotional; perceived, actual) is on the line. It's not really a choice when your predicament of having to choose is ultimately through no fault of your own. It's also not valid to use someone else's shitty choice options to absolve yourself from responsibility of what happens to them. Just because I had two options doesn't mean they were fair options and doesn't mean I deserve whatever happens to me. Sometimes you do the best you can and still end up with nothing to show for it but two really bad options and one big decision.

I do want to circle back and make it clear that I don't think that pornography consumers are evil people (although some of this shit y'all be watching is absolutely horrifying and I say that with an open mind) and I don't necessarily think that just because you enjoy seeing a man (forgive my graphic words here) shove his penis so far down a girl's throat that she gags repeatedly and her eyes almost pop out of her head, you're therefore responsible for whatever mental and emotional if not physical toll that takes on her body (though I do think you're odd, I'm not going to lie). I also don't mean to suggest that these aren't grown ass individuals participating in grown ass activities. But just because all of that is generally true, that doesn't change the fact that someone has to bear the consequence -- for consequences ALWAYS come from choice. And with that being the case, doesn't it seem to always go that the person who usually bears it is the weakest (either by circumstance or relativity)? The one with the most to lose?

I also want to be clear that while I don't at all think that what has happened to Amber Cole on a public scale is acceptable, she did make a choice that even at 14 she should've known better than to do (teens do have a hard time thinking ahead, that's scientific). So did those boys and it's really shitty that they're not being publicly "spoken to" in the same manner as she is.

And yeah, some folks have made some really bad decisions all on their own that keep them out of the 1%, or even the upper parts of the 99%. That doesn't mean to me, however, that those who have benefited from that shouldn't bear some of the responsibility of bringing all this stuff back to some sort of equilibrium.

I'm still left wondering, though, what is choice? If not an opportunity for absolution and not always rainbows and butterflies what is choice really all about? Exercising a right? Showing your power of your own situation? Is this how we know the difference between a choice (time with your boys or your girl) and a non-choice, choice (eating because I got naked or not eating because I stayed clothed)?