Soundtrack of My Life

Sing it with me.

B.i.g., p-o, p-p-a
No info, for the, DEA
Federal agents mad cause I'm flagrant
Tap my cell, and the phone in the basement

or how about this one?

A chair is still a chair, even when there's no one sittin' there
But a chair is not a house and a house is not a home
When there's no one there to hold you tight
And no one there you can kiss goodnight

Were you singing Biggie and Luther? While you were singing did you smile and nod your head? Did you remember the moment or place where you first heard those songs? Did a feeling envelope you? If you were to ask me those same questions, they would all be answered with a resounding "yes." I vividly recall being on the dance floor singing loudly, "B-I-G PO-PP-A.." And while I can't remember where I first heard Luther Vandross croon his tune, I do remember how it soothe the hurt after one particularly hard break up. Music triggers memories, but music can also heal.

If you are a frequent reader of this blog you know that often music lyrics prompt me to wax poetically about a subject. I wouldn't call the melodies a muse, but I would say the melodies allow me to be connected to the emotions behind the music. While I consider myself verbose and a pretty decent writer, in my every day environment conveying my emotions - well, other than anger - is very difficult for me. During those times when I am at a loss for words, I wish I could sit quietly and let my Ipod's playlist speak for me.

After a particularly nasty fight with my spouse, I want to let Melonie Fiona's "It Kills Me" convey how I feel. I want Laura Izibor's "If Tonight Is My Last" express how no matter how hard our conversations are with him is where I always want to be. JHud's "We Gon' Fight" illustrates my commitment to our union. Wouldn't it be great if we had closed captioning on our lives and the soundtrack would scroll around us so that the other person completely understood what we were feeling?

This need for a soundtrack goes beyond marital spats. I know that everyone in my age group had a slow jam tape that they made love to. You know you had one? Heck, I am sure some of ya'll still do. Or what about when you have visitors to your home? Don't you change the background music depending on the type of event that you are hosting? Think about it. Bookclub meetings get women-friendly love songs. But your church's women's meeting gets a little Yolanda Adams playing softly through the speakers. Why change playlists if music didn't influence your world?

Music sets the mood for my life. When I need a pick me up, I reach for India Arie's "I Choose." When I need to remember my purpose I love listening to Brenda Russel's "I'm Here." And we all know what Prince's "Adore" is used for, right? So, what does music do for you? What are you listening to?

Man in the Mirror

"I'm starting with the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to make a change." By now you are singing along too. We all know these Michael Jackson lyrics. But are you taking the words to heart? Are you starting with you?

I was in a conversation with some peers recently about my demeanor. I was told that I come off as cold and mean. That surprised me. I consider myself direct, blunt, concise; but never cold and mean. Of course I can act mean, but who can't. Acting mean from time to time doesn't necessarily make you a mean person, right?

I thought I had a very good read on myself. But later, someone even closer to me said that I invalidate their opinion. That if their point of view differs from mine, that I make them feel wrong and undervalued. Wow? Really? I thought that I was just expressing my opinion on a situation and offering a viable solution. But my helpfulness was undermining their confidence. Did I intend for that to happen? Nope. But it was a by-product of my directness.

My own daughter said to me that she wants to be tough like me. I asked what do you mean? She answered, "you never cry." I thought - wow is that the message that I am sending her? To never cry? But I don't cry in front of people. When people cry at work, I think they are playing the "I'm so pitiful card." I don't like it one bit. I don't like it when people cry and act a fool at funerals. But I want my daughter to know that she can cry from time to time. I've been told that it is cathartic. At least that's what people say.

So I am doing a self-assessment. Who do I think I am versus who the world perceives me to be? I am hopeful that by peeling back the layers of these two - apparently very different - people that somewhere in there is my authentic self. Have you taken this journey? Please share your wisdom. "Because if you want to make the world a better place, you have to look at yourself, and make that CHANGE."

Culture Clash

I readily admit to anyone that will listen that I am an intellectual snob. But that probably isn't the most accurate. I am sure my cultural choices seem low brow to many. I mean I love musicals including Les Miserables, A Chorus Line, and Rent. Not exactly the highest of brow. But compared to what is offered nowdays, I am truly a snob. So maybe I am not high brow, but I am at least "middle brow." (Yes, I just made that up!) My favorite authors are also middle brow (the more you use the term the easier it gets). Pearl Cleage, Alice Walker, Terry McMillan, and Jill Nelson make me run to Borders to get their latest works. But imagine my dismay when I get to the book store and find titles such as "Hot Ghetto Mess" and "The Block is Hot" on the shelves. I don't mind a few titles sprinkled in for diversity's sake, but come on.. the urban literature is taking over the book shelves. If you are familiar with any mainstream bookstore, the Black books section is already tucked in a corner with just 3 shelves. So to have the shelves overrun with urban lit is sad.

Now I remember when Terry McMillan first came on the scene with Mama and Disappearing Acts. Ya'll remember that? Critics were downing her words as low brow as well, and Terry had a witty comeback for them. She said that as long as she is getting an untapped audience to go to the library and read a book, then everyone should be happy. I agree with her to a point. I applaud anytime a novice reader enters a bookstore or library and finds a book that they love. I cheer when they come back for a second time and decide to try something harder or different or new. I get excited when their minds are open to new experiences. But alas, we have highschoolers who are reading Zane. (Just shake your head!) After reading this book that takes no effort, these new readers are not spreading their wings and trying new works. They are going back to the bookstore/library and requesting the next hot piece of urban lit. This is where I have a problem. Will "Hot Ghetto Mess" help them on the vocab section of the SATs? Will "The Block is Hot" show them a community outside their own?

Now, before you decide to virtually picket my blog, let me explain my position. Should all literature be Toni Morrison deep? No. Sometimes you need a subtle word so you grab Tracey Michae'l Lewis. Sometimes you need some politcal commentary wrapped in humor and you look for Jill Nelson. Sometimes you need a kick in the butt so you reach for essays by Pearl Cleage. Sometimes you need new suggestions for the bedroom, so you pick up Zane's "Sex Chronicles." And sometimes you need just a mind vacation, so you pick up "Hot Ghetto Mess." I am ok with the genre. I am ok with the books. I am not ok when the shelves are saturated with only one option. That is when I have a problem.

I Remember..

I didn't really miss him, or at least I didn't think that I missed him. But I guess that is how nostalgia happens. Something triggers your memory and BAM! You are right back there. So maybe that is what happened yesterday at the game. I mean I go to the game every year and truth be told the game is drenched with memories. From the roar of the crowd, to the Aristocrat of Bands, to the sea of tigers in blue and white, all of it transports me back to college. That all too brief time of freedom, discovery, and wonder. So I guess I should have expected to see you there one day, but last I heard you were out west. But there you were. At the concession stand. Even across a crowded concourse full of people, my world slowed to a crawl. As I caught your eye and smiled from afar, time stood still. And in the nanosecond between when I saw you and when I next blinked, I relived that night.

That magical night. The night where we were so inebriated not just from our fledgling experience with wine but from an intoxicating conversation about our futures. Our worlds, dreams, desires seemed so compatible that it was natural to see if that compatibility also extended to our bodies. And it did. In that brief glance, I remembered vividly how we were in such a trance that the windows of the bedroom were left open drenching the carpet from the passing storm. I remembered how our passion was punctuated by lightening as if the heavens were applauding. I remembered it all so clearly that it took my breath away.

But then my daughter tugged at my hand reminding me of why were were in the concourse to begin with - to take her to the potty. And with that, the spell was broken. So I smiled at you and gave you the "hey" wave as if I didn't remember. But I do. What's funny is that I haven't thought of that night in years. So maybe it was a case out of sight, out of mind. And maybe in a few weeks you will once again fade into the recesses of my mind, but in this moment - even without you here - I remember.

**This is a work of fiction

I Am Not My Hair - or Am I?

Since I do not have a picture posted let me describe how I look: I am a fair skinned, Black female, with green eyes, and below the shoulder locs that are reddish brown with blonde highlights. Got a picture? Ok, good. But let me tell you a bit about my hair history. If it can be done, I have done it. Let's walk through the hair-story:
K-8: Long press and curl hair;
9-12: Permed long hair;
Freshman year of college: long braids;
and from then on it is a blur: Halle Berry cut, blonde braids, long permed hair again, chin-length bobs, long weaves, the Beyonce years, short natural, BIG Angela Davis afro, and now locs. I've changed hair like people change clothes. Like I said, I've done it all.

Now as a member of the loc'd community, people assume several things about me: that I am pro-black, that I write poetry, that I burn incense, that I am a vegetarian, and that I am anti any hairstyle that isn't natural. Some are right. I am pro-black (isn't everyone?). But my pro-blackness is not tied to my hair. It is tied to the fact that I am black and if I am not pro-me, who will be? Do I write poetry? I used to, but I haven't in years. Matter of fact, I quit writing poetry before I went natural. Do I burn incense or smell like oils? Umm, no. I do have some items from Bath and Body Works like every other home owner in America, but that's it. Am I a vegetarian? I was for health reasons but not because I love PETA. (Matter of fact, I am eating meatloaf as I type this.) And do I think the world should be natural? Nope. I think that you should wear whatever hair style that makes you happy and augments your beauty. Simple enough, right? That's what I have done. Each step and misstep along the hair journey has been in pursuit of this one goal. That's it. I wish I did have some deep story about how "for years I felt less than really black because of my green eyes and I thought that locing proved my blackness once and for all" or "i went natural to shake off the hand of the European oppressors and to define myself as an child of Africa." But neither of those things happened. I have always liked locs. I tried every other hairstyle. I thought I would try locs next. And as the mother of two beautiful daughters with loads of hair, I figured that getting my hair out of the way was a good idea. Not very deep, huh?

Often people ask me about my kids' hair. As I said I have two daughters (5th and 2nd grade). What's funny is today is hair day. That means that over the next 8 hours I will wash and braid the little one's hair, wash and press the big one's hair, and if time permits, wash my own. Why does one child get braids and the other doesn't? One is tenderheaded and prefers styles with minimal combing. The other is in middle school and has asked for more "big girl" looks. It isn't a political or cultural decision, it is just their - and my - creative expression of their hair.

Recently at dinner with my inlaws, my babygirl stated that when she gets older she will dye her hair blue. One of my relatives immediately shot down that idea. But I quickly interjected, "You can change your hair color in college, if you have all A's and B's. It can be whatever color you want." I then turned to that relative and said, "If she gets into college and is making good grades and is not on the pole, then her hair color is the least of my worries." I prefer to worry about the big stuff. Her hair, or mine, isn't that big of a deal.

Weary

Weary. Sometimes the works of others express how you feel better than your own words. But I am WEARY. Not tired. Not sad. Not misunderstood. I am all those things and more. I am weary. So instead of trying to explain how that feels or think of some amazing metaphor to amuse and enlighten, I am going to let Ms. Amel Larrieux sing her words/my words for me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaWxcFqqaU0

Sparking Conversation

Ok, let's state all of the grim facts. Let's talk about how black women can't find husbands. Let's talk about how black men are all with white women. Let's talk about how black women are difficult to deal with. Let's talk about those who do get married get divorced at an alarming rate. Let's talk about all of it. Ok, great. Got that out of your system?

Now, let's talk about solutions. Here is where you come in. I pose a problem/concern/area of dissonance and you provide your solutions. Not bashing, but solutions. Ready? Good, because we all need it.

Let's go after the big one first. #1. Fidelity. Why is it that people find it so difficult to stay faithful in marriage? Why do people stray? What can you do to prevent yourself from stepping out in your committed relationship? (I told you I wanted to do the big one first.) I do not cheat on my husband is because I think of marriage in these terms "first do no harm." (Yea, I stole if from the doctors.) But seriously, if i say I love someone, then why would I intentionally do something that I know would hurt him. Could I have sex with someone else for a purely physical encounter? Yes. But the ramifications of that act would inflict harm on the person that I care about the most.
2. How do you deal with financial issues in marriage? Example: one person makes more than the other. This is one that I am still learning. I swear I have more accounts than 5/3rd Bank. But this is how it is working for us (and it is a work in progress) household checking, his checking, my checking, household savings, his savings, my savings, kids savings. According to Good Morning America & Steve Harvey, I seem to be headed in the right direction.
3. How big a role does faith really play in your marriage? Don't just say "without God there is no marriage." I mean really, what role does God play in your marriage? What does that look like on a daily basis? (Not just on Sunday) I can honestly say that right now God doesn't play the role that He should in my marriage. (And honestly, that explains a lot.) To put it plainly, God and I fell out a few months ago. Well, that's not the truth. I got mad at God and quit speaking to him. But I've been sheepishly coming around more and more. I know that He is always ready to speak to me, I just need to be open enough to talk to him (and to listen.)
4. Love Languages. Do you and your spouse speak the same love language? If not, how do you make sure that your intentions are not lost in translation? I swear I wrestle with this one. How can you be a romantic, analytical person? Well, I am. And I am married to a creative, literal person. Whooo. To put it plainly, right now I am speaking Chinese and he is speaking Ibo. But thankfully, we both seem to be willing to purchase the Rosetta Stone series and learn the other's language. But I swear that sometimes it feels like we are in the remedial language classes.

5. Sex. Are you getting it? Are you getting enough? How important is sex to your marriage?
Yep. Most of the time. Very. For risk of embarassing my hubs, that's all i am going to say on this one.

6. Romance. Do you make time for romance? Do you have a date night? Do you take time to romance and "woo" each other? Ro-what? Huh? Que? Date nights are far and few around here. That is unacceptable and it sucks. So someone share some tips on this one.
7. If you are juggling marriage and kids, how do you illustrate what marriage should be for them? Do they learn to respect marriage from you or do they shun marriage because of your example? For the past two years I think we have failed miserably at this. I hope that the next 80 years can fix 2 years worth of mistakes. Seriously.
8. For the women: Submissive versus doormat. How do you let your husband lead your household? What do you do to empower him? (This one is for Junie!) I really don't have a problem being submissive and letting my husband lead me. My only requirement is that he leads. In my opinion, leading requires vision. Leading means protecting and providing. Leading means follow through on what he says he is going to do.
9. For the women: They say the power of life and death is in the tongue. Can you hold yours? Can you not have the last word? Can you not talk a problem to death? Ya'll know this one was for me, right? I will cut you with my words. You cannot verbally battle me. For real. I struggle with this - daily. Like at 130p TODAY, I was wrestling with this issue and losing. I have a problem with just walking away and letting it be. I have to analyze it and talk about it and recap it and determine an acceptable solution.. get my point. And God forbid that you don't see it my way or say the right thing, because then we have to start all over, until YOU get it right. (Sigh.) I said I am working on it.

10. For the men: Can you lead a household? Can you really assume the role of protector and provider? Can you do what it takes to be "King of your Castle?"

11. Can you describe "quality time" with your spouse? 48 hours of my spouse and me. I need 48 because normally I am so tired that we have time together there has to be at least 1 nap involved. We can do anything - bowling, hiking, working out, bookstore, library, dinner, movie, whatever. This is how the weekend would go: Friday - drop off kids, get dressed up, go to dinner and movie, sex, sleep. Saturday morning - sleep in, go for walk, sex, lunch, nap, sex, get dressed and go out with friends, sex, sleep. Sunday - get kids. See I need that nap worked in somehow!

Let's talk. Give your opinion so that we can all grow and learn together.

PS: Everything in italics and blue were added after the original post. I figured if I was transparent then maybe you would be too.

Drugs, Mental Illness, Prostitution, and Society (Ain't it Funny?)

So maybe I am the last one to see the video of Maia Campbell on Youtube. But just in case I'm not the final viewer, let me recap it for you: There is video of Maia Campbell ranting while sitting in a car. Google it. I am sure you will find it. Ms. Campbell is obviously ill. Some reports say she is on drugs. Other say she is mentally ill. And still others say she is a "crazy" prostitute. Heck, for all I know she could suffer from all of the above. But this blog isn't about that. This blog is about our fascination with other people's pain. Our sick need to watch the car crash, poke fun at it, then move on. But what would happen if we stopped, listened, and acted?

Did you watch the video? Did you hear how the man (if this is what passes for a human being now days) spoke to her? Here are my issues with their interaction: Problem #1: Why in the world would you video tape a person that is obviously in distress? Problem #2: He then taunts her for his own amusement. And problem #3: He then asked her to perform oral sex on him.

Let's start with problem #1. What made this man (i wish there was a better word for this individual) stop and video a woman in distress? Was it the fact that she is the actress Maia Campbell? Was it the promise of a quick buck for selling the video? Was it just for kicks and grins? I really don't understand the point of this.

Problem #2: He then taunts her. That means he clearly understands her level of distress and instead of reaching out to offer assistance, or falling on his knees to pray for her, he chooses to taunt her. Aggravate her. Annoy her. This must be the same type of person that would take a stick and poke an injured, caged animal too.

Problem #3: He asked her to suck his dick. I mean really? He thinks so low of this woman that he video tapes her in distress, taunts her for his own amusement, but then asks her to take his penis into her mouth for his own pleasure. He asks a woman that he obviously hates to take the most vulnerable part of his body into her possession. Ponder on that for a moment. He either thinks so little of himself or his own sexual prowess that he would want to share himself with a person that he detests. Or he thinks so low of her that he knows that she will not defend herself against his attacks EVEN when she has the upper hand. Unfortunately, I believe its the latter. He thinks that low of her. Meaning that this man -this vile excuse for a human being - recognizes that she is a broken person and doesn't even care. That is not only sad but scary.

And let me add a problem #4: Did you hear what Maia said? Did you hear her talk about the loss of her mother and her child? Did you hear that she is a woman lost - without an anchor? Did you hear that or was that just me? Did you hear the fear in her voice when the driver of the car re-entered the picture? And did you hear her say with such clarity that she will be the one to pay of their interaction? That she was going to be beaten for her actions, not the videographer. And did you hear God speak to you to ask you to pray for her healing? Not just for her but others out there who are battling addiction, mental illness, prostitution, grief?

I heard it. I pray you did too.