Saturday, December 15, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Being A Mommy
Today is a good day! I woke up happy!!! I'm excited because this year Selah-Nina will really understand that its Christmas. I used to be one of those who vowed to not make a big fuss out of this holiday, but honestly I can't wait to see her eyes on Christmas morning when she sees all her toys under a big pretty tree. I promise being a mother is one of the best feelings in the world. Yes, she can work my nerves, like this morning when she looked at me and gave me an emphatic "NO" when I told her to keep still so I can do her hair. However, when she wakes up with that beautiful smile that says, "I am so happy to see another day," it makes the crazy times so worth it. So, to all the good mothers who read this I send out blessings and I honor you.
So True...
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can take a week of left over scraps and make a gourmet meal Can cuss a man out, then make love to him that night and make him feel like a king.Can wear a burgundy french roll, 3 inch heels and a split up her thigh to work and make it look professional
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can wear the hell out of spandex Can raise a doctor, a world class athlete and an A+ student in an environment deemed by society as dysfunctional, broken underprivileged And disenfranchised.Can heat a whole house in the winter without help from the gas company. Can go from the boardroom to the block and "keep it real" in both places. Can slap the taste out of your mouth.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can put a Black man and his non-Black date on pins and needles just by walking into the room.Can live below poverty level and yet set fashion trendsCan fight two struggles everyday and make it look easyCan make a child happy on Christmas day even if he didn't get a thing Can be admired and fantasized about by men of other races Can be 75 years old and look 45.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can make other women want to pay plastic surgeons top $$$ for physical features she was already born with.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN can be the mother of civilization.
Author unknown
Can take a week of left over scraps and make a gourmet meal Can cuss a man out, then make love to him that night and make him feel like a king.Can wear a burgundy french roll, 3 inch heels and a split up her thigh to work and make it look professional
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can wear the hell out of spandex Can raise a doctor, a world class athlete and an A+ student in an environment deemed by society as dysfunctional, broken underprivileged And disenfranchised.Can heat a whole house in the winter without help from the gas company. Can go from the boardroom to the block and "keep it real" in both places. Can slap the taste out of your mouth.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can put a Black man and his non-Black date on pins and needles just by walking into the room.Can live below poverty level and yet set fashion trendsCan fight two struggles everyday and make it look easyCan make a child happy on Christmas day even if he didn't get a thing Can be admired and fantasized about by men of other races Can be 75 years old and look 45.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN
Can make other women want to pay plastic surgeons top $$$ for physical features she was already born with.
ONLY A BLACK WOMAN can be the mother of civilization.
Author unknown
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Continuation...
Okay...so I am going to continue the post I was writing earlier. I am in a pretty good place today. Right now I sitting at my desk (during my planning listening to Alicia Key's "Its My Time") and so this is a great time for me to write my heart out....
Now, as I was saying I don't overlook the beauty of other cultures, but at the same time I feel like as a people African Americans don't embrace what is naturally us (our kinks). Don't get me wrong, everyday is a struggle but I am in it to win it. See, about four months ago I spent $650 getting loc extensions. For those who immediately choose to judge me and my decision I ask that you do one thing; either open your hear to what I am about to say or close my blog. I had to come into my own reality by sitting back and tracing my history and putting things together.
What people fail to realize is that we are a young race. African Americans have only been around for a few hundred years. We aren't 100% African, 100% European, 100% Asian, nor 100% Indian. Heck, we aren't even 50% of any of those. We are a mixture. We lost so much heritage during the middle passage, and had new traditions forced upon us. Therefore, we had to make our own. We had to take what little we could salvage from our African heritage and mix it with the European culture. Which is why much of what is and has been considered "black" has been a blend of many things. This holds true for our hair. We found a way to alter the texture of our hair in order to assimilate into larger society. We have found a way to make ourselves more acceptable and unfortunately more desirable (to the larger society and ourselves). Subsequently, while we were experimenting with our hair, we still had to deal with the self hatred that began from the inception of slavery. I can go further into this and I might one day. For now, I'll just give a few recommendations. Read, Song of Solomon and The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. View "School Daze" by Spike Lee. Also, check out that "Doll Test" (the older version and newer version).
Our desire through perms, although we say it is a way to be able to manage our hair, was to look "white" or close to it. We erased a major portion of our African heritage by straightening its curl. We weakened its strength. I wanted to celebrate my Africaness. So, I got the locs. I wanted my students to see a beautiful African American woman rocking her KINKS proudly. My rationale for the extensions was simple, I didn't want to start with baby locs. Now for those who have gone through the journey of locing your hair, I send out kudos. For those who are judgement, it is a fact that in Africa weave was used for centuries in many of the hairstyles. The key is that they didn't add weave to hide their truth. It 's like Lauryn Hill said, "Look at where you be in hair weaves like Europeans. Fake nails done by Koreans. Come again." So, everything about my hair celebrates being a beautiful African American woman, period!! I love it.
For clarification purposes only, and not to weaken my position I am stating again that everyday is a journey. Everyday I get bombarded with images that say something totally different from what I believe. However, like I said I am in it to win it. Plus, I have a wonderful African King who said to me when chemotherapy was taking my hair out, "Babe your hair is your strength. The tighter the kink, the stronger you are."
Now, as I was saying I don't overlook the beauty of other cultures, but at the same time I feel like as a people African Americans don't embrace what is naturally us (our kinks). Don't get me wrong, everyday is a struggle but I am in it to win it. See, about four months ago I spent $650 getting loc extensions. For those who immediately choose to judge me and my decision I ask that you do one thing; either open your hear to what I am about to say or close my blog. I had to come into my own reality by sitting back and tracing my history and putting things together.
What people fail to realize is that we are a young race. African Americans have only been around for a few hundred years. We aren't 100% African, 100% European, 100% Asian, nor 100% Indian. Heck, we aren't even 50% of any of those. We are a mixture. We lost so much heritage during the middle passage, and had new traditions forced upon us. Therefore, we had to make our own. We had to take what little we could salvage from our African heritage and mix it with the European culture. Which is why much of what is and has been considered "black" has been a blend of many things. This holds true for our hair. We found a way to alter the texture of our hair in order to assimilate into larger society. We have found a way to make ourselves more acceptable and unfortunately more desirable (to the larger society and ourselves). Subsequently, while we were experimenting with our hair, we still had to deal with the self hatred that began from the inception of slavery. I can go further into this and I might one day. For now, I'll just give a few recommendations. Read, Song of Solomon and The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. View "School Daze" by Spike Lee. Also, check out that "Doll Test" (the older version and newer version).
Our desire through perms, although we say it is a way to be able to manage our hair, was to look "white" or close to it. We erased a major portion of our African heritage by straightening its curl. We weakened its strength. I wanted to celebrate my Africaness. So, I got the locs. I wanted my students to see a beautiful African American woman rocking her KINKS proudly. My rationale for the extensions was simple, I didn't want to start with baby locs. Now for those who have gone through the journey of locing your hair, I send out kudos. For those who are judgement, it is a fact that in Africa weave was used for centuries in many of the hairstyles. The key is that they didn't add weave to hide their truth. It 's like Lauryn Hill said, "Look at where you be in hair weaves like Europeans. Fake nails done by Koreans. Come again." So, everything about my hair celebrates being a beautiful African American woman, period!! I love it.
For clarification purposes only, and not to weaken my position I am stating again that everyday is a journey. Everyday I get bombarded with images that say something totally different from what I believe. However, like I said I am in it to win it. Plus, I have a wonderful African King who said to me when chemotherapy was taking my hair out, "Babe your hair is your strength. The tighter the kink, the stronger you are."
Friday, December 7, 2007
I assume at this point I should go into a little more detail about myself. Before I begin, I do hope that whoever reads this blog does so with an open heart and mind, because that is the vibe I am in as I write to you. This blog will encompass my life and my thoughts. Initially, I set out to only blog about my hair, but I am such a complex person made up of so many different facets that I figured I'd let this be an outlet for my thoughts.
So, today I'll begin where I intended to start, with my hair. Let's see...ever since I can remember I have been one of those women with "hair hang ups". I always wanted the long silky hair. As a girl, I would do like many African American women, and prance around the bathroom with a towel draped across my hair and pretend it was my own. It sounds pathetic, but its the truth. Like many, I was bombared with pictures of what society said was perfection, and nobody on those pictures looked like me. Though my skin is the considered light(which some would argue is a more acceptable trait), I had hair that clearly was brought over on the ship, my gap is another reflection of my African heritage, and the folds on my eye lid didn't come from Asia.
Subsequently, since the age of about 14-years-old, I wore a weave of some sort. At times I just wore a piece here and there. I'd wear a faux pony tail, or an addition to a beehive (if you were born in the 70's you know about the 90's version of the beehives). I'll try to scan a few pictures. Now, there were times I'd wear a short hair cut, but I didn't feel my best in these moments.
At any rate, I began to become so comfortable with weave that I started putting it in myself and wearing it all the time. Well, around 2001, I got sick of the weave and the European standard of beauty. It began to make me sick to my stomach. I hated seeing black women try to adopt the same look as white women. It began to get upset with myself. Why? Why do I want to look like them? Why do my own people idealize the beauty of another group and try to immulate them? Why is it that I attract more brothas with a weave down my back then with my fro? Why can't I read any new "black novels" that don't describe the main character as if they are mixed with everything else and then a dab of black? Why do I listen to "Beautiful" by Snoop Dog and the idol of the black man's affection is something other than an African American female? Why does she have to be like Nelly says, "half black and Asian"? Why? Why? Why?
Now please understand I have nothing against people who represent the ethinic blends I just refered to. My problem is when my own people put those on a pedistal instead of embracing what is truly theirs...
So, today I'll begin where I intended to start, with my hair. Let's see...ever since I can remember I have been one of those women with "hair hang ups". I always wanted the long silky hair. As a girl, I would do like many African American women, and prance around the bathroom with a towel draped across my hair and pretend it was my own. It sounds pathetic, but its the truth. Like many, I was bombared with pictures of what society said was perfection, and nobody on those pictures looked like me. Though my skin is the considered light(which some would argue is a more acceptable trait), I had hair that clearly was brought over on the ship, my gap is another reflection of my African heritage, and the folds on my eye lid didn't come from Asia.
Subsequently, since the age of about 14-years-old, I wore a weave of some sort. At times I just wore a piece here and there. I'd wear a faux pony tail, or an addition to a beehive (if you were born in the 70's you know about the 90's version of the beehives). I'll try to scan a few pictures. Now, there were times I'd wear a short hair cut, but I didn't feel my best in these moments.
At any rate, I began to become so comfortable with weave that I started putting it in myself and wearing it all the time. Well, around 2001, I got sick of the weave and the European standard of beauty. It began to make me sick to my stomach. I hated seeing black women try to adopt the same look as white women. It began to get upset with myself. Why? Why do I want to look like them? Why do my own people idealize the beauty of another group and try to immulate them? Why is it that I attract more brothas with a weave down my back then with my fro? Why can't I read any new "black novels" that don't describe the main character as if they are mixed with everything else and then a dab of black? Why do I listen to "Beautiful" by Snoop Dog and the idol of the black man's affection is something other than an African American female? Why does she have to be like Nelly says, "half black and Asian"? Why? Why? Why?
Now please understand I have nothing against people who represent the ethinic blends I just refered to. My problem is when my own people put those on a pedistal instead of embracing what is truly theirs...
This is also Selah-Nina dressed as a butterfly on Halloween this year!
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