Tag Archives: words

Poetry

Practice (An Auto Ethnographical Exercise)

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of sexual assault and r*pe

Some content was supposed to be up already, but I made a mistake and the article basically did not save properly. As I write that article again, I thought I would post some past writings that I have done. One of my assignments in my last semester of undergrad consisted of writing an auto ethnography. An auto ethnography is a research method where they utilize personal experiences to describe and interpret cultural texts, feelings, emotions, practices, beliefs, and so on. Since this class was a theatre class, our task was to write a two page interaction with someone that we knew whether it was personally or not. One person chose AOC, another chose Cleopatra, and another chose an old friend that she hadn’t talked to in a while. A majority of the class picked people that they admired; people who inspired them to pursue the career that they are studying currently and people who encourage them to go follow their dreams, goals, and ambitions. I chose Eldridge Cleaver. I despise Eldridge Cleaver with a deep passion; with a fire that would make Hell bow down in submission. With little knowledge, this man might be seen as a progressive leader of the Black Panther Party, but in all honesty, he was a vile, acrimonious sociopath who resorted to unspeakable tactics in the name of equality. In his 1968 book, Soul On Ice, he details one of his strategies on how to fight against racism, white supremacy, and oppression. I was able to read a snippet of his book, and the utter disgust that overcame by body is one that I can’t quite find the words to describe yet. This man…if you want to call him that, was an avid rapist. He viewed rape as a pivotal tool when getting back at the white man and those who were victims under their power. In his book, he is quoted saying, “rape was an insurrectionary act. It delighted me that I was defying and trampling upon the white man’s law, upon his system of values, and that I was defiling his women.” He first started with black women, why? Because he said they were practice. Practice…like studying for a midterm exam. Practice…like perfecting your jump shot. Practice…these women were nothing to him. He was finally arrested for assault in 1958. During this time is when he started following Malcolm X. In his book, he calls himself a rapist. “I’m perfectly aware that I’m in prison, that I’m a Negro, that I’ve been a rapist, and that I have a Higher Uneducation.” (Cleaver) The amount of women that he attacked is unknown at this time, and probably will never be revealed. I cry for those women, as I know so many women who have been hurt in this way…I am one of those women myself. The fact that this man was a mouthpiece for the Black Panther Party is appalling. This repulsed me immensely, but I couldn’t help but think about his victims, especially those that share the same race as me. You see this monster years later fighting for justice, but he did that horrible thing to you? That’s where I got the inspiration to write my scene with him as the target. I wrote as if I was one of his victims, seeing him for the first time since my attack and since he started preaching the teachings of Malcolm X. I’ve learned so many things about our past black activists, abolitionists, and leaders…maybe that will be a post for another time? Without further ado, this is my auto ethnography title Practice.

PS…forgive me if the historical accuracy is skewed. Also, I want to state that I am not making light of the cruel and brutal acts that Eldridge Cleaver enacted. Thank you.

Practice

No…that isn’t who I think it is. He found me…how? Is he even looking for me? Get yourself together girl, he doesn’t care about you that much…he probably doesn’t remember your name. What would he want with me…again? You’re going to spend your whole life on the run buddy…not just from the pigs, but from your sanity; the so-called Messiah that lets us live another day. Lord knows you can never repent enough for what you’ve done, so don’t start now. As many times as I’ve cried and begged the God I prayed to in my youth; in Sunday’s best and pearl white doll socks, he ignores my pain…he won’t show any mercy to you..sick son of a ..no, stop it. In a way, I feel bad for you; I know…I know what it feels like to be on the run…but how can you run from yourself? That is him…oh my God…

*tears begin to well up in my eyes and my hands close into fists. I’m frozen as if the soles of my feet have cemented into the pavement* 

This man has had power over you for years, do you even know who you are anymore? You used to be Dara McGee, and now all you’re considered is one of his victims…is that who you want to be remembered as? IS THAT YOUR IDENTITY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE? Confront him, now. Do it…do it for you. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t care; your words may not shift anything in that cold and desolate mind of his, but you need to be free. Free yourself…this is not the way to live your life. 

*I’m hesitant, but my body relaxes, the same way it did when I realized that I couldn’t stop him from what he did to me. The cement around my feet are no more as my tip toes toward him become steps, and then my steps become strolls, and then my strolls become strides. I’m done.* 

Some book you wrote, huh Eldridge? You call yourself an author now? 

*he whirls around so gracefully, almost like a ballerina. He doesn’t remember who I am. How many of us were there?* 

You don’t remember me, do you? I was one of your firsts. I was your so-called revolution…some poor black girl living on the other side of the tracks. I was nothing to you, but you lived there too…what does that say about you? We are the same flowers growing from the same flower pot, and you plucked my petals and cut my stem. I may not be a man, but I understand your pain…I bear the same flesh as you. When white people look at me, they cross the street in my path, they spit at me, they deem me as an abomination…I feel that pain too. I stood in solidarity with you…all my brethren, and to have one of my own do something like that to me…why aren’t you saying anything? Do you not feel bad about your actions? Insurrectionary act…kiss my ass. That was diabolical, sociopathic, psychopathic…crazy, just crazy. I read the book Eldridge, and you referred to me…my sisters…we were targets…no, what did you say in your book? Practice. Practice for the main target. Look here, those girls did not deserve what they got; as much as they probably hated us already, they did not deserve to be taken advantage of. No matter who you are; what walk of life you’ve trekked and where you call home, you do not deserve what happened to me; I wouldn’t wish it on the lowest, vilest creature alive. Hmm, so I guess that means I wouldn’t wish it on you I suppose. They think you are so brilliant Eldridge; they drank your words like gin….they are intoxicated. You really are a natural orator, I’ll give you that. I can see why the black community idolizes you, especially wayward, Fatherless black young men…how I fear for the young girls they’ll try to pursue. The way you see the world is frightening, but alas, we live in a frightening reality. You are right…no don’t walk away from me! You’re going to stand here and remember because I can never forget; you are going to listen. You are right about the world being unfair to our people, but why did you have to go along and be unfair with it? It’s already hard enough being a black woman. We are the Black Panther Party; we are the backbone of this organization; some of y’all just pick up the bullhorn when need be. How can you disrespect those who understand your plight the most? How can you see me as disposable? We gave birth to you; spent nine months growing you inside our womb, altering our bodies to make sure you make it here alright…some of us risking our lives. I’m afraid to ever share my body with another; giving life and creating it. Why? Just why!? You ruined my life, and the saddest thing is…you don’t care. Somehow, in that convoluted brain of yours, you think these actions were some radical protest…IS THIS WHAT YOU ARE TEACHING!? Are you proud of this? *laughs uncomfortably* This is your legacy now. Black Panther Party leader, visionary, radicalist…r–ist. I wish I could see you as all those great things others see you as, but I can’t, and you’ve ruined it for me and one day everybody else will see. I stand before my brothers in awe of the stories they bestow, only to think, have they done what Eldridge has done? You felt resentment over how white men used black women, huh? And you did the very same thing that they did to us, now tell me, how does that make sense? Do you want to dismantle racism and white supremacy? Do you really?  Do you want to be free from the white man? Or do you want to be just like him? What revenge did you need to get on me? What have I ever done to you? If that was my lot in life; a pin cushion for the black revolution, the Lord didn’t need to give that burden to me. Imagine how it feels to know that no one, not even the black man himself, loves us black women? NO ONE! I am hollow inside; my heart, my mind…what good is it to use now!?  Answer me that, Eldrige, what good is it? Nothing? The one thing I do have left is my voice, and you can’t match it? Answer me!…you are a coward, you know that!?  I don’t care what you’re doing for the betterment of black folk…YOU.ARE.A.COWARD! I pray people see you for who you are and everyone loses all the respect they ever had for you. You have to be one sick twisted mother f–ker if you think brutalizing me and other black women…women in general, is the best way of attaining revenge. There is nothing deeper to it; no symbolism, no bigger picture…you are deranged. Whether you have changed from your ways or not, that will always be embedded in your psyche. It kills me inside to know that I can’t do anything but cry; scream…pray that the Lord will end my suffering and lift the weights that crush my shoulders every single f–king day. I was just prey to you…and over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion why I was your target. It wasn’t the mid thigh length dress, or the way my hair was pulled back, showing off my cheekbone I inherited from my Mother’s side. It wasn’t any of that..mmm mmm. I know why you chose me…because you knew if you were going to r–e me…you’d get away with it. I can see that I have done nothing for you; this was probably a waste of your time, so I’ll go. Goodbye Mr. Cleaver…may God have mercy on your soul, well, if there still is one somewhere in there.

Sources:

Cleaver, Eldridge. 1968. Soul on Ice. Print 1999.

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Journaling

Grieve At Your Own Pace

I tend to ponder in thought quite a bit, as many people do. The mind can take us to some pretty chasmic places; rewinding scenarios in our heads that make no sense, whether you have created them or not. Since Sunday, I have been doing this as I’m sure many other people have. This makes no sense…none at all. When unexpected and unexplainable situations occur, we try to rationalize what’s unfolding. We’re in disbelief and we’re in shock. We empathize with the victims and their families. We think about how something could have been prevented. We claim that what has happened is not real. We think about the situation if it were us in their shoes. We may link together other times when our feelings took a turn for the worst, making our experience that much more unbearable. Our emotions aren’t linear; in complete and utter shambles one day, feeling invincible the next, then back in shambles again. There is no clear way to express your emotions during certain situations.

Grieving is the multifaceted response typically for loss. Grieving has no standard image or action. When you have developed a deep bond with someone or something, it suddenly being taken away can feel like we lost apart of ourselves. I remember when my Grandmother passed. The moments during the initial shock differed so much. My Dad was in hysterics. He wasn’t in town at the time, so his wails and cries were transferred through the phone. My Mom, somewhat stoic in nature, sighed as she processed the passing, not because she was annoyed, but because she knew how impactful his mom (my Grandma) was in his life. My parents work well together. While my Dad starts with emotions first, he works through them so at the end of the day he can use his logic. My Mom is the opposite. Whatever she needs to do, she’ll get it done, only to process her emotions after it has been completed. They are able to lean on each other when the other needs to.

You may want to cry. You may want to scream your lungs out. I took a six hour nap yesterday after incessantly bawling. Some want to be left alone, while others want to be surrounded by close friends and family. As long as it’s not hurting you or anyone else…

…grieve the way you need to.

Loss can feel like a heart attack. You feel like you’ve stopped breathing, your heart palpitates, and tears may start to well at your eyes. It can feel like the end of the world. You feel numb; on earth, but not apart of it. It feels like your mind is dissolving. Memories flood back like a tsunami, and it almost feels like you will never be able to reach a homeostasis. Denial, isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance…sound familiar? These are most commonly known as the stages of grieving. Of course, most of us know what denial is; refusing to believe that whatever took place happened. Isolation commonly goes along with denial. We like to remove ourselves from other people’s company. Maybe it annoys you being around others who don’t feel the way you feel, and that’s okay. Maybe you just want to be alone because you just want to…that’s okay too. We may start to feel tension build up. Our muscles clench as you grit your teeth and try to ignore the seething displaced pain that’s felt. We may get mad at ourselves for responding the way we are when grieving. Maybe you’re upset because you physically lost something and you forgot for a brief moment that you’re human and things happen. Anger can be directed towards another person who was involved; a lot of the time, the person who was the victim if there is one. We may garner a sense of hope with bargaining. If I do this, then this will be the outcome. If I stop doing this, then they will come back and this, that, thus, and so. It’s like trying to make a deal with the universe. We may begin feeling overwhelmed and saddened at the fact that whatever it is we are going through…not much can be done to change the outcome. And once all of this passes, people can finally accept the changes that have come, and begin your journey of healing. Does it always start at denial? No. Maybe you get angry at first. Maybe you all of a sudden feel this wave of melancholic energy. There may be some stages that you don’t even experience, and then there may be some stages that are added to your personal grieving process. There isn’t a time frame to grieving either. It may take someone years to heal from something, while for others it may take a couple of days. Take as much time as you need.

What happened was tragic, and your brain might not be able to compute what has just taken place. Disconnect from the world for a little bit; take some time amongst yourself. Analyze and acknowledge your feelings…every single one. Take things slow for the day. Deep breaths; in through the nose and out the mouth. Move around; do yoga, exercise, take a walk…be around nature. There’s something calming about fresh air; being among the trees, the very vessels that give us oxygen. If it’s too cold to go outside, curl up with a warm blanket and an inspiring book. Go pick up a pen and write. Write everything that develops in your brain, no matter how random the thoughts may be. When bad thoughts begin to burgeon, stop their growth with words of love; for yourself and for others. Love, that’s the key thing. Love those whom you’re closest to, and don’t forget to love them out loud. Forgive yourself for your mistakes, and work on forgiving others for theirs. We have been reminded that life is inevitable and it is sudden. That doesn’t mean worry about when your life may end, it means celebrate it and all of its little wonders. You made it to class on time, congratulations! Your boss brought donuts to that 8 o’clock meeting, that’s amazing. The little things can be the most important and enjoyable parts of life. You’re alive, it’s okay to act like it.

Appreciate the time you have.

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Journaling

You Made It…

Can you think back to December 31st, 2018? What were you praying and manifesting would happen in the year to come? I knew 2019 was going to be a culmination of growth and reflection. Well, I feel every year consists of those two things, but I don’t know…2019 was different. Think about it, 2019 is the last year of the decade; this was the year of completion. 2019 made us uncomfortable; it made us question how we treat people, our past decisions, and the ways in which we have let other’s interact with us. We were kind of lost going into this year. I can speak for myself when I say that 2019 was my wake up call. January 1st got right in my face and said “get it together!” 2019 dragged me by my heels and made me face reality. It was scary, it was harsh, but it was needed. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different response, and I was a lunatic. 2019 made me question who I was as a person and who I wanted to be. It made me question the energy I allowed to infiltrate my space, but with that being said…it made me ask myself why I was attracting this type of energy?

I spoke a lot to my younger self, and it was good to see her again. She was around the age of seven or eight. She had a braid on each side of her head with one in the back, and pink barrettes clipped to her scalp. She was chubby and cute, two things that she didn’t think could coexist with each other. She wanted someone to tell her that she was worthy. She wanted to be told that she was beautiful; that she was smart, talented, and intelligent. She wanted to be told that she didn’t need to lose thirty pounds in order to look good. She wanted to be told that her physical flaws aren’t flaws at all; they’re little idiosyncrasies that deserved to be celebrated. At the age of 21, I was glad that I was able to give that to her.

In 2019, I was able to confront a lot of things in my life that used to poke and prod at my self esteem. I highlighted the things that I love about myself, as well as the things I want to change within. I was able to forgive myself and others for the past, and leave those memories there. I have become more content with being alone and spending time with my thoughts. I am learning that I am my own soulmate. Myself and I were courting in 2019, and now we are in a relationship. When deeply in love with yourself, you move differently. I learned that everything is not a competition; just because I failed does not make me a failure. What’s meant for me will be for me, and I should speak positively over my life because it is precious. The things that I cannot control I will not give energy to, and I will be more careful with the things I can change.

I am so excited for 2020. I got a glimpse of what could come if I continue down the right path. I haven’t felt this hopeful in a long time. I feel confident in myself, and when the bouts of insecurity come, I know what to do to remind myself of my worth. I’m being more selfish this year. This new decade I pray will be the new emergence of the person I want to be. I will be a better woman, a better sister, daughter, granddaughter, friend, writer, student, artist…all the things that I consider myself, I will be better. I pray for a cleansing of the heart, mind, and soul. To anyone reading this, I pray that you tap into that potential that you know is there, and that you too become the best version of yourself.

Happy New Year

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Facts and Opinions

What Consent Is…and What it Isn’t

Consent. That word has become pretty controversial over the past few years. With the #MeToo movement, so many people are mustering up the courage to come forward with their stories of sexual assault, rape, and abuse. Consent is the permission for something to happen or agreement to do something. Not too hard to comprehend right? Well, for some, it’s relatively confusing.

That could have to do with rape culture says Lena Finkel in her article for Medium.com called Why is Consent So Difficult to Understand? The no means no mantra should be instilled into people’s brains, I mean it’s simply self explanatory. If you ask someone if you can eat their fries for lunch, and they say no, well there you have it…you can’t eat their fries. If your hairdresser asks if they can chop all your hair off and give you a tapered fade and you say no, guess what? They better not be chopping your hair off and giving you a tapered fade. If you are lounging on the couch with your boo Netflix and chilling (oh, how I hate that term), and he is starting to go a little bit further than you want, when you say no or stop…he better go back to paying attention to Thanos evaporating most of the Avengers on TV (spoiler I guess, but you should have seen it already. If you haven’t…what’s wrong with you?). Of course, there are people who think that no means “let me try a little bit harder to persuade you until you give in” and stop means “I’m going to do it anyways because you’ll eventually like it later on.” No is a powerful word…and there are many times where uttering that word still doesn’t give the other party the bright idea that what they’re doing is wrong and not wanted. Well how about when no isn’t said, but the act still isn’t wanted? This is where consent begins to get a little fuzzy to some.

 

To add on to the definition of consent, consent must be clear, concise, and enthusiastic. There is nothing wrong with just getting down to the nitty gritty and asking, “do you want to have sex?” I know, I know, that is probably the least sexy way to get in the mood, but better safe than sorry. If the other person does not give you a solid green light, abort the mission my friend. I mean a succinct, “yes I want to have sex with you.” If the person is hesitant, saying things a long the lines of “I guess” or “maybe” sorry bud but that’s a no. For your safety, that should be a no. If the person consents, and things are going well, and then all of a sudden the other person wants to stop, what do you do? You stop! There is this weird belief that a person can’t cease consent if they already started getting physical. I’m here to say that’s not the case at all. You can always revoke consent at any given time.

 

What about if the other person is intoxicated? Or incapacitated? In 2014, music artist Cee-Lo Green tweeted that it wasn’t rape…if the woman was unconscious. He also added, and I quote, “people who have really been raped remember.” You’d be surprised, but there are actually a few people who believe this. It’s like when someone comes into your house and takes from you when you’re not home. “Oh it’s not stealing if you’re not in your house.” If I hit you in your sleep and you don’t wake up, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t hit you, I still did. You just didn’t feel it. On January 18, 2015, Brock Allen Turner, was spotted raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster. This woman experienced a significant amount of physical trauma, as well as emotional. People should be able to go out and enjoy themselves at a party, but at the moment, it’s just not something that we can do. Society tends to blame the person who blacks out or gets inebriated is shamed. Yes, a person should know their limits in terms of drinking, but we are human, people sometimes can get a little out of hand and drink more than they need to. That doesn’t mean that someone should just take advantage of them because it’s now easier for them to be manipulated. If I take a glance at your wallet while you’re at a parking meter and see a large wad of cash in there, does that give me the right to bash you over the head and take it? I mean, you opened your wallet a little too wide, obviously you wanted to get robbed. Does that make sense to you? In my personal opinion, if a person is drunk, they are not able to consent. Point. Blank. Period. You have no business trying to sleeping with a person who can barely stand or make rational decisions for themselves. A lot of people use this as a loophole. Oh she said yes so it was okay. Oh he didn’t fight back, it was fine. This person also is a light weight and gulped half a bottle of Hennessy and washed it down with Capriccio and one-third of a 4 Loko. I don’t really see the fun in having sex with a person who is on the verge of passing out or choking on their own vomit.

 

Predators like to prey on people who are more vulnerable because they have more power over the situation. A drunk person won’t really fight back as much as a sober person. What if they’re both drunk? Who takes the ownership? Even I am stumped on this. Typically, it is determined based off of the person who is the most conscious in the situation. If the person knows that they are drunk, and the other person is drunk as well, and the initiate the act, they are the ones at fault. The court would really have to go through the case with a fine tooth comb if it was ever sent to trial. This argues the fact that drunk sex can never be consensual. I don’t really know about that, but I do believe that it depends on the amount of alcohol that is being ingested. There’s a difference between tipsy and drunk. Going back to the statement I made before, who would want to have sex with a sloppy drunk person?

 

To sum up, I’ll go through a run down of what I’m talking about:

  • never assume the person wants to have sex. I don’t care if they are bumping and grinding on you in the club and singing The Weeknd’s Or Nah verbatim after deep throating a popsicle…ASK! Sorry for the graphic image.
  • pay attention to body language. If you are initiating sexual contact and the other person is not engaging enthusiastically or like they actually want to do it…stop! Remember, consent is clear and concise, and should be verbal to be safe.
  • if the other person is drunk, leave them alone. Just leave them alone. If the person is on some type of narcotics…LEAVE HER ALONE! They are not able to consent. If you’re not a shitty human being, maybe help them in some way.
  • it’s still rape if the person is unconscious. Cee-Lo Green is an idiot.
  • lastly, no means no.

 

Unfortunately, there are those people who know that no means no and that rape and sexual assault is not okay, but they don’t care. These people are mentally disturbed; disregarding a person’s well being for their own pleasure and sick compulsions. Those are the people that need the most help, but it might be too late for them. There are some pretty cruel people out there. Please be careful. Remember, you are not at fault. You are not in the wrong.

 

Here is a video that I think really helps demonstrate what consent really is:

 

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Journaling

Today’s Affirmations: Pain and Resolution

I re-watched an episode of Uncensored on the television station TV One. This particular episode was on a woman by the name of Tami Roman. For those of you that don’t know who she is, she is most known for being a cast member on the VH1 hit Basketball Wives, as well as being on the original season of The Real World. I didn’t really know much about her, but I really did learn a lot about her life. My Mother used to watch this series, and she would say that Tami could be a force to be reckoned with, and now that I have seen her episode of Uncensored, I can kind of see why.

This woman was sexually abused not once…but twice in her life. The first time was when she was eight years old by her Mother’s boyfriend. I wrote an essay on child sexual abuse. If you didn’t read it, please take the time to do so. The psychological turmoil a child can go through when it comes to being violated at an early age…the list goes on and on. Then while getting gas with a friend, she had her jewelry stolen off her body and was forced to drive to an abandoned warehouse where her and her friend were sexually abused for four days until the person finally let them go. The anger she must have felt; the anger and frustration. I am sure that incident caused her to put her walls up and go into attack mode when she senses that someone is attacking her. I kind of do the same thing. I recently had a person tell me that I was too aggressive, and that if I think someone is trying to pick a fight with me, I shut down or go off…there isn’t really much of a gray area. With that being said, I wanted to focus on pain, anger and of course resolution. Sometimes we can’t control the things that happen to us. The pain and trauma that is inflicted upon us against our will is not our fault. It has no bearing on who you are and has everything to do with them. The mantra is of course for healing any guilt or shame that comes with the wrongdoing that has been forced upon you, as well as soothing the anger and frustration that comes with remembering.

I am not at fault

I am not my trauma

I AM NOT MY TRAUMA

I am not my pain

I may be frustrated now, but I won’t be for the rest of my life

What they did has nothing to do with me and everything to do with them

It’s okay to be angry

It’s okay to not be okay

It’s okay to reach out for help

I will be healed

I will be whole

When I begin to think about the past, I will focus even more on the present and the future

I am my own hero

I am strong…but it’s okay not to be sometimes

This too shall pass

Things will get better

I will continue to have faith…and if I have none at the moment, it will come to me

I will exercise my emotions in a healthy and positive way

I will regulate my emotions when they seem to be too much

Positivity is just beyond the horizon

I will surround myself with people who care about my well being

I will surround myself with people who want me to do better

I will be around people who treat me the way that I should be treated

I will treat people better

I will evolve positively in all aspect of my life

All me hopes and dreams will come into fruition.

I will be alright

 

 

 

 

 

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Journaling

Today’s Affirmations: In A Healing Place

I am in a healthy space

I am where I am supposed to be

I do not fear the future

I do not live by my past

I will keep going

I know I will be successful

I will achieve pure happiness

I will make my younger self proud

It’s never too late to change

I will change for the better

I am excited for what’s to come

I will heal in every way, shape, or form

Everything I need to heal is within me

I will grow positively

I will grow in self-love

You are not your faults or traumatic experiences

I am strong

I am amazing

I can be anything I want to be

I love myself

I love myself

I love myself

xoxo

 

 

 

 

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Facts and Opinions

What, to the American Slave, is your Fourth of July?

There are countless pictures of me taken on the Fourth of July. They’re probably somewhere in the attic buried under old blankets and clothes that I can’t fit anymore. I’m standing in front of my house, holding a few American flags, the gap in my tooth looking bigger than I remembered it to be. Since I am naturally an “extra” person, I gave Uncle Sam a run for his money. I was covered in red, white, and blue. I was the human form of the American flag. At that age, I didn’t realize that the “holiday” that I was celebrating was not a representative of me or my people. Some call today, July 4th, Independence Day. I’ll give a brief history, but I’m pretty sure everyone knows it by now. If you’re American, it was shoved into our brains as soon as we started school.

July 2nd, 1776, the Congress voted in favor for independence from the British. Two days later, July 4th for those who can’t count, delegates from the thirteen colonies adopted the Declaration of Independence, drafted by Thomas Jefferson. Since then, people have been celebrating by firing up the grill and lighting up their fireworks. I cringe when I think about my star spangled ass running around the family barbecue. Now, it makes me cringe when I see people…my people…wearing red, white, and blue, wishing others a Happy Fourth. I just want to grab a hold of their shoulders and say, “THIS HOLIDAY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!!! YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT!?!?!?”

On July 5th, statesmen, writer, orator, social reformist, and of course, abolitionist, Frederick Douglass, delivered one of his most known speeches to date, “What To The Slave Is The Fourth of July?” It goes as follows:

“What have I, or those I represent, to do with your national independence? Are the great principles of political freedom and of natural justice, embodied in that Declaration of Independence, extended to us? and am I, therefore, called upon to bring our humble offering to the national altar, and to confess the benefits and express devout gratitude for the blessings resulting from your independence to us?…

I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn…

What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy — a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.”

Let me give a rough summation of what he’s saying; how the hell does this have anything to do with me and my people? This independence is for you white sons of guns and not me. I’m sure Mr. Douglass’s explanation would be a lot more complex, but hopefully now you get the picture if you didn’t take the time to read all of Frederick Douglass’s speech. Let’s think about the current problems that are taking place today. The government is literally losing children in their custody; separating them from their families and having them lay on tin foil to keep warm. I mean you see it all over your Twitter feed, it’s not like it isn’t happening. They are literally in cages. Black people are still being shot down like it’s deer season. People are still being denied basic human rights. Black people and people of color are still looked at as second class citizens. Black people were not freed until 1865, and even after that, we are still being degraded due to our looks, but it seems like every little white girl from California is trying to tan as much as possible to get that bronze look, and plumping their lips up with filler.

I’ve kind of strayed from the topic at had a little bit, but all I’m saying is that my fellow black people! This day is not for us. We aren’t celebrating our freedom, we are reveling in our enslavement. The day has passed, but if you want to celebrate “freedom,” celebrate Juneteeth (June 19th). June 19th, 1965 was the announcement of the abolition of slavery in Texas, as well as the emancipation of slavery through the confederate states of America. That day is also my birthday, so I especially hold that day near and dear to my heart. There are so many people who share the same skin tone as me who saw this past June 19th as just a regular day.

How can we celebrate the Fourth of July when the freedom does not cross over to us? Like Frederick Douglass said, we have nothing to do with your independence. So when you’re igniting sparklers and waving American flags around, stop for a minute and gaze into that red, white and blue…does this really represent me?

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Journaling

June Manifestations + Change

Now that’s she’s back from the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair. She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there’s time to change. Since the return of  her stay on the moon, she listens like spring and she talks like June.

Drops of Jupiter by Train is probably one of my favorite songs. As a child when the song would come on in the car on my way to school, I would instantly become a bawling mess. I still to this day don’t know why, but the song has this connection with me. The song captivated me with the first few lyrics, pictured above. She listens like spring and she talks like June. I distinctly remember asking my Mother what that meant, and if I did that because I was born in June, which is in the spring. She had no clue, but I have given myself my own personal meaning of what that means.

Spring is rebirth; it is the start of new things. June is the last month of the season, the 21st being the first day of summer. When I think of speaking like June I think of speaking positively or speaking with purpose. No matter how hard times may get, there is always a sense of hope when you speak. The weather during the spring acts as nourishment towards crops (rain), but then it can also be a bit hectic and (thunderstorms). Some words can destroy infrastructures, removing the old so that the new may be built. Listening like spring is being attentive and open-minded; being adaptable and open to the future. Honestly, I’m probably just reading too much into it, something that I do constantly. It was probably something that sounded good at the time, so they slapped it to some music.

Spring is my favorite season, mainly because it is the season that I was born in, as well as what spring symbolizes. June is all for revitalization, and going into the fourth day of the month I can feel differences ever so slightly. It’s about making a change in one way or another. I just got some really great news a few days ago, so I am praying that this is the change that is taking place. What kind of change are you looking forward? What type of change is going to take place in your life? This is the time to start that project that you’ve always wanted to but have been putting off. Your ideas that you have been cultivating, put it into action! I know that I’ve been saying that I wanted to start sewing and pick up my viola again to practice and I certainly think that this is the time to do so. I have just enrolled in a summer psychology course, and I am hoping that this is going in alignment with the rest of the things that I want to accomplish. I already am eating healthier and engaging in the vegan lifestyle, and now I am trying to make a change in my education. The person that you want to be, it’s time to start doing things that that person would do.

Now is the time to clear out any things that you don’t need; mentally and physically. Sometimes, God or a higher power will remove these things for you. The people that are no longer a benefit or a positive place in your life…they need to go. The habits that hinder your growth…gotta go. It’s time to acknowledge the things that you would like to change for the better. You have the plan, so put it into action. If you don’t have the plan, that is the first step. Take it one step at a time. Have a plan, but don’t get discouraged if things don’t go the exact way you want them to. For example, curing world hunger…that might not be the first thing that you should start off with. Maybe apart of your change could be volunteering more and being apart of a difference in the community. It’s always good to dream big, but actions definitely need to be apart of the journey there. You’ll never get there if you stay stuck in old, toxic ways that serve no purpose. The time for change is now. The best version of yourself is emerging.

I will let go of any negativity that I am still holding on to

I will be successful and happy in my life

I will change myself for the better

I am closer and closer to being my best self

I am growing

I will be the best version of myself very soon

I will be the best version of myself very soon

I will be the best version of myself very soon

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Self Care Saturday

My Guide to Journaling

Hello everyone! So this is my first post on Self Care Saturday! Woooo! Self Care Saturday is pretty self explanatory…I give you different ways of self care on every Saturday of the month (or at least a Saturday of the month).

Today, I’m taking you into one of my favorite self care past time…journaling! Oh how I love journaling. There is nothing more therapeutic than writing in my opinion. I actually have three of them that I carry everywhere. Each one serves a different purpose.

  • My yellow journal is for my day to day entries. I always date the page and write about what happened that day. I like to do this after I take my bath or shower and change into a clean pair of pajamas (or an overlarge t-shirt). I naturally have an overactive imagination, so when I am starting to get bored of my surroundings, I pull out my journal and write how I feel.
  • My pink journal is for my dreams, goals, prayers, and manifestations. When I’m feeling low, I like to open up this bad boy and envision myself in a more positive situation. I like to write out little scenarios that I hope will happen. For instance, I wrote one about strolling through the Louvre in France wearing a flowy white dress with my curls in full bloom like flowers in spring. Man I was really in my feelings that day, I tell you. It just let’s your mind run free to a happy place.
  • My black journal is for my short stories and poems. They don’t have to be a full fledged sonnet; sometimes they’re just little quips and ideas. When something pops into my head, I quickly jot it down. I can’t draw to save my life, but some of them have drawings and doodles on the pages, as well as little songs that I may create.

Now having three journals might be a little excessive, but for me it helps organize my thoughts. But when it’s your journal, you can do whatever you want with it. It can be as messy and cluttered as you want. It’s for you and your thoughts. I would say, when journaling…

  • Sometimes choosing the journal is important. This is something that you’re going to be writing in, have it be enticing. You should want to write in it. I bought my journals at Walmart, but they are so cute. They are Pen + Gear Five Subject Notebooks. I love that they have little tabs to divide different sections of the journal.
  • Write every day. Every day. Even if it’s just one sentence. I am sad. I am happy. Thank you God. Shoot, it can be one word if you want to. Just make sure you write something.
  • It’s okay to restart. I have journals that haven’t been finished. Sometimes the things in that journal don’t give off the energy that you expect. It’s okay to switch journals and start anew!
  • Be in tune with your feelings and emotions. Don’t hold back.

That concludes the first Self Care Saturday post! Hopefully, you find a journal and fill its pages with stories, hopes, and well wishes.

Happy journaling!!!!

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Poetry

Grin and Bare It

I can’t be free

No use to try and save

I’m chained to the life

Of grin and bare it

Upward cheek imprints

On the other side of ignorant

My legs raw bone

Weak and stagnant

My better half be over lo!

My feet become cemented

I aimed to be

The human anomaly

The black sheep

Of wiser men

But my larynx vocal folds repeat

Tape recorder conversations

I hate to see

My staggered dreams

Be exactly that

And stay that way

Until I kiss the bottom of

Limestone gravel

Sand and concrete

Blue blood obsolete

Not too discrete

But still hid it all

Like money in a mattress

Five hundred

Come up

Worthless

Shallow river bottom reverie

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