Iam going to start today's blog with a poem I memorized when I was still in highschool and it has got me through a lot things by putting things in perspective.
Title unknown by author unknown
One by one He took them from me
All the things I valued most
until I was empty handed
every glittering toy was lost
And I walked Earths highway in my rags in poverty
Until I heard His voice inviting, lift your empty hands to me
And I lifted my hands to Heaven and he filled them with a store
Of His own trancendent riches until they could hold no more
And then I comprehended in my stupid mind so dull,
That God could not poor riches into hands already full!
I love this poem!!! It has made me always remember what's important in life. I was given the most precious treasures a person could ask for. Six beautiful children who are healthy and are my reasons for getting up when life gets too difficult! Thank you Father and Happy Birthday!!!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Why Is Color So Important?
For as long as I can remember I have asked myself this question! As you know from my other posts I have become painfully aware that color plays a part in ones ability to be accepted just as weight and finincial status can. I notice that the same shade can be placed on two different people but there can still be a big difference in how they are accepeted! My case in point... In 9th grade phy ed, one of the prettiest girls in our class approached me, she had long brown shiny hair and really pretty blue eyes, andyway it was a beautiful day outside where we were have track and field day so she challenged me to a "tanning" contest. We compared our shades and at the end of the class we'd campare again. Well I wasnt really trying to tan quite honestly I ran for shade every chance I got because heaven forbid I get any darker. At the conclusion of class my classmate found me under a tree and we compared skin shades, sure enough she had won she was at least 3 or 4 shades darker than me. I smiled to myself well if the prettiest girl in class is darker than me then certainly this obsessive name calling would stop. Wrong! My classmate got comments like " what kind of tanning lotion did you use?" "Wow! you look great, I wish I could get that dark without burning!" I got the following comments, "The black water fountain is outside!" and "Hey Leah, They let slaves off the plantations or did you escape again??!!??" Wow! My Sweetie is really dark complected and he has told me numerous times that the darker you are then some people treat you like yur subhuman. If I wouldn't have gone through what I went through I would have found his statement far fetched! I dont sadly I see it in action everyday. Black children with light skin are praised for their "high yellow" coloring and "good hair" while dark children treated like they are already mess ups and are always told how nappy their hair is. For the record I have seen light skinned kids with nappy hair and the explanation is this," well you should have seen it when they were younger they had butters!" I have come up with my own answear to the question I stated and here it is in all it's simplicity. We as people are obsessed with sorting and putting things in their proper order making sure everything recievec it proper label! We tend to gravitate toward things or people that most resemble us and if they are different we decide that they are different and we are the norm instead of vise versa. So in a desperate attempt to keep order we quickly place a negative label on the guilty subject and toss it aside and with it stripping it of it's worth in our own eyes. Then when we cross paths down the road we have the nerve to question its negative outlook on life. Shoot why does such and such always have to be so touchy and sensitive!!! Hmmmm I wonder.... well this is quickly taking a turn toward a rambeling rant instead of making my point which is. QUIT SORTING PEOPLE WE ARE EXACTLY AS WE WERE INTENDED! EMBRACE THE DIFFERENCES! YOU MAY BE SURPRISED BY WHAT YOU LEARN!!! ok Im done.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Just Another Day In ISS
When I was in 9th grade I managed to get ISS(In School Suspension)once every other month for skipping school and if you have read any of my other posts then you know why I skipped! Anyway, I had gotten this really pretty jewerly box with a mirror inside of it and I kept in on the top shelf of my locker. There was a girl in my class who was always going to and from juvie allthe time and I happened to luck out and ended up being one of her favorite victims. I dont really remember what had started that days tangent but she was on my case all day from the moment I stepped off the bus. I had managed to just ignore her and keep my distance and then after lunch all Hell broke loose!! I went to my locker and opened it up to find the inside of my locker smeared with black grease and my jewlery box smashed all over. In white out was written nigger, afro girl and black bitch. As I stood gazing in my locker I heard a loud snickering on my left and when I looked over I saw the girl with her little entourage of outcasts looking my way laughing. Suddenly something inside of me snapped and i saw red! I threw my books in my locker slammed my door and angrily strode to where this girl was standing. Forgetting for the moment of her reputation for assaulting people I snatched her up and slammed her against her locker. "stay away from me and my locker" I screamed, "Im sick of your shit" Just at that moment I felt someone pull me and shove me to the side, I whirled around to find myself looking at a teacher. The teacher asked the girl if she was alright and then asked me why I was attacking another student. I forced myself to slow down and then I let him look inside my locker. The teacher asked if I could prove that she did it and as I lamely admitted that I couldnt I was wondering where this teacher had been while she was taking her time destroying my locker and its contents!! I tried to plead my case with the principal but I was sent to ISS. This girl never did get in any type of trouble. Now when I was younger all these little episodes seemed so unfair. Now that Im older they still seem a little unfair but I understand that they made me the person that I am today. If I hadn't gone through then I probably would not have the empathy for others that I have and I would have missed out on alot of great friendships just because I was only aware of my own feelings! I dont see it as unfair anymore I see it as neccessary. Sometimes some of us have to go through some serious issues to soften us so we will be open to others who so desperately NEED a friend. If I had a choice I would experience it all again rather than become someone who is shallow and oblivious to everyone else around me who is hurting or have great personalities hidden behind pain. Thank you to the ones in my life who really took the time to get to know this nut case!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Yes, This Actually happened in the 90s
I am using my second blog to elaborate on just one of my school day experiences! The title should already give you a heads up that the following will not be
comfortable to read, that is if you have a human heart beating in your chest and not some iron transplant! Anyway, I remember my sophomore year in high school, I was scared to death because I was about to be in Senior high choir and this consisted of grades 10-12 so that's approximately 200 students give or take a few. I was already trying to slip into my alto position early so that I would not draw any unwanted attention. I breathed a sigh as the people around me buzzed to each other and were way too busy to notice me. Finally our choir director strode in and handed out a piece of music that was an old favorite in Junior High choir and by the time we reached Senior high it was the one we used to just sort of tune up. After we went through the song a couple of times our director became very agitated by our failure to get through such simple song without repeated blunders! Known for his short fuse and colorful choice of adjectives when he reached his boiling point I was ready for him to lose it I was however not prepared for his word choice. Slamming his copy of music down on the piano the director glared at us over his half glasses and hissed "What is the problem, you act as if you've never heard this song before much less performed it!" "Someone is falling flat....." and then he dropped the bomb!! " who ever it is you sound like a nigger in a woodpile" I instantly looked at the floor feeling 200 plus pair of eyes burning the top of my head! I wanted to die or at the very least leave! I knew that I was trapped because no matter how much I begged and pleaded I knew my mom would never let me drop choir! Thus began one of the longest days in my life!! No one could get over how the teacher called me a nigger in class. as I recall it was whoever was falling flat and that surely wasn't me because my nerves had been so bad that I was merely mouthing the words inaudibly! Wow what a way to start senior high!!!`
comfortable to read, that is if you have a human heart beating in your chest and not some iron transplant! Anyway, I remember my sophomore year in high school, I was scared to death because I was about to be in Senior high choir and this consisted of grades 10-12 so that's approximately 200 students give or take a few. I was already trying to slip into my alto position early so that I would not draw any unwanted attention. I breathed a sigh as the people around me buzzed to each other and were way too busy to notice me. Finally our choir director strode in and handed out a piece of music that was an old favorite in Junior High choir and by the time we reached Senior high it was the one we used to just sort of tune up. After we went through the song a couple of times our director became very agitated by our failure to get through such simple song without repeated blunders! Known for his short fuse and colorful choice of adjectives when he reached his boiling point I was ready for him to lose it I was however not prepared for his word choice. Slamming his copy of music down on the piano the director glared at us over his half glasses and hissed "What is the problem, you act as if you've never heard this song before much less performed it!" "Someone is falling flat....." and then he dropped the bomb!! " who ever it is you sound like a nigger in a woodpile" I instantly looked at the floor feeling 200 plus pair of eyes burning the top of my head! I wanted to die or at the very least leave! I knew that I was trapped because no matter how much I begged and pleaded I knew my mom would never let me drop choir! Thus began one of the longest days in my life!! No one could get over how the teacher called me a nigger in class. as I recall it was whoever was falling flat and that surely wasn't me because my nerves had been so bad that I was merely mouthing the words inaudibly! Wow what a way to start senior high!!!`
Friday, December 18, 2009
The Color That Almost Broke Me!
I have never blogged before. So be gentle with your critics! I was inspired to write this blog after chatting with an old school friend on fb I found I had a lot of unvoiced feelings and opinions so what better way to deal with them then to have them published openly for the whole Internet world to size up. Thank you Mike! I guess I will start by letting you know the meaning behind both my titles.
First I chose the title "a piece of me" as my sight title because when I was growing up I was the only black or close to black person my small all Scandinavian home town had to deal with at that time. I was an easy target for the low self esteemed, the bored or the just plain bullies! I was called everything from Nigger, Tarbaby, Chia pet to Sasquatch, Blackey, and Shit pile and these are the less creative names that kids K-12 could come up with. My school Daze were several years of unending ridicule. I would never wish my school years on anyone!! To be fair I didn't make things easier, I tried many ways to keep my head up like ignoring them, laughing with them, trying to fit in and finally in grades 7-12 I gave up and spent the rest of my educational career crying into my pillow on a nightly basis. I grew up believing that me and my flawed coloring was to blame. No one was there to let me know that I should be proud of my heritage which at this point was still in question. I was adopted from Colombia by white parents and to most looked black. Which by the way was not a good thing! As soon as I turned 21 I left town and moved to Moorhead,Mn which at that time was predominately white. People were kind enough to keep their racism to themselves for the most part and aside from making personal bad decisions life went smoothly. I made many friends and was called a racial slur once. Five years later I moved to the Twin Cities where I had my first experience with the black culture. I thought finally I will be accepted for me and not my color. I was but the first question I was asked and am still asked is what are you mixed with? I have been called a racist because I was ignorant when it came to Ebonics and spoke proper english. I quickly adapted. Now I found that I was extremely popular because I was considered a"redbone" or "high yellow" I was often hated on because I had "good hair" and considered a ho because I was nice. Wow! Who knew popularity was so controversial! Now at the age of 37 I am convinced that I owe everything I am to my color and that is not a complaint because for once in my life I like me and that seems to fuel peoples need to give me their unsolicited advice, opinions and words of wisdom.
The second title is pretty much self explanatory!! but I will not only expand but conclude. My whole life's focus has been trying to find peace with my color and the answer I was looking for was answered for me when each of my children were born. I have kids that are as white as an albino to being as dark as chocolate. Each of them although different shades respond the same to affection or criticism. My point is not one of them has asked me "why are you so much lighter/darker then me mommy" to them it doesn't matter I'm just Mom and they know I love them and more importantly they Love me regardless of all my flaws. As I promised I am going to conclude with a song I wrote in 8Th grade
Sticks and Stones
I remember going to school and you calling me names
To me it was so painful, to you just another game
Many times Id go home with tears in my eyes
I tried to hide them from my mom but my pain I couldn't disguise
She asked me about the problem, I told her what you said
She just walked away shaking her head
Sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt you
Man was she wrong when she said those words cause I'm torn up inside
At times you were so cruel that you would make me cry
Until I thought my heart would break and I was gonna die
But Ive learned to look into the mirror and like what I see
Cause what I am today is what Ill always be
First I chose the title "a piece of me" as my sight title because when I was growing up I was the only black or close to black person my small all Scandinavian home town had to deal with at that time. I was an easy target for the low self esteemed, the bored or the just plain bullies! I was called everything from Nigger, Tarbaby, Chia pet to Sasquatch, Blackey, and Shit pile and these are the less creative names that kids K-12 could come up with. My school Daze were several years of unending ridicule. I would never wish my school years on anyone!! To be fair I didn't make things easier, I tried many ways to keep my head up like ignoring them, laughing with them, trying to fit in and finally in grades 7-12 I gave up and spent the rest of my educational career crying into my pillow on a nightly basis. I grew up believing that me and my flawed coloring was to blame. No one was there to let me know that I should be proud of my heritage which at this point was still in question. I was adopted from Colombia by white parents and to most looked black. Which by the way was not a good thing! As soon as I turned 21 I left town and moved to Moorhead,Mn which at that time was predominately white. People were kind enough to keep their racism to themselves for the most part and aside from making personal bad decisions life went smoothly. I made many friends and was called a racial slur once. Five years later I moved to the Twin Cities where I had my first experience with the black culture. I thought finally I will be accepted for me and not my color. I was but the first question I was asked and am still asked is what are you mixed with? I have been called a racist because I was ignorant when it came to Ebonics and spoke proper english. I quickly adapted. Now I found that I was extremely popular because I was considered a"redbone" or "high yellow" I was often hated on because I had "good hair" and considered a ho because I was nice. Wow! Who knew popularity was so controversial! Now at the age of 37 I am convinced that I owe everything I am to my color and that is not a complaint because for once in my life I like me and that seems to fuel peoples need to give me their unsolicited advice, opinions and words of wisdom.
The second title is pretty much self explanatory!! but I will not only expand but conclude. My whole life's focus has been trying to find peace with my color and the answer I was looking for was answered for me when each of my children were born. I have kids that are as white as an albino to being as dark as chocolate. Each of them although different shades respond the same to affection or criticism. My point is not one of them has asked me "why are you so much lighter/darker then me mommy" to them it doesn't matter I'm just Mom and they know I love them and more importantly they Love me regardless of all my flaws. As I promised I am going to conclude with a song I wrote in 8Th grade
Sticks and Stones
I remember going to school and you calling me names
To me it was so painful, to you just another game
Many times Id go home with tears in my eyes
I tried to hide them from my mom but my pain I couldn't disguise
She asked me about the problem, I told her what you said
She just walked away shaking her head
Sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt you
Man was she wrong when she said those words cause I'm torn up inside
At times you were so cruel that you would make me cry
Until I thought my heart would break and I was gonna die
But Ive learned to look into the mirror and like what I see
Cause what I am today is what Ill always be
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)