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You have "tiger" moms. Stage Moms. Hipster, Granola Moms Helicopter parents. Queen Bee PTA B*TCH Moms. I don't really have a desire to be any of those moms. I've decided to create a new category for myself. (Listen,.. I know Black Panther is a dude. But he's my fav LOL). The Black Panther Mom It's probably not what you think it is. And honestly, I am working on the definition myself. But I am clear about what it is not. It is not any of what I listed above. And it most certainly is rooted in cultural depth. We aren't talking HOTEP-ness Erykah Badu levels of Granola crunchy. Just a rootedness (thank you Toni Morrison) in Diasporic appreciation. A black panther mom is vigilant about protecting her young. She wants them to be strong, nurturing and independent but also kind, compassionate and considerate. She wants them to be appreciative of people who are different. And most of all, an appreciation of self, of culture and of the v...
Roots, the landmark 1977 miniseries based on the work of Alex Haley, was remade in a modern and edgy way via the Will Packer produced 4-night series which aired starting Memorial Day. Like most African-Americans, I hold Roots near and dear to my heart. I connected with the stories of Kunta, Kizzy and Chicken George..... and I was really skeptical that a remake was going to be good. I was so wrong . Not only was it gut-wrenching, it was well researched and visually stunning. The team of historians integrated and interwove elements of culture, music, food and art into not only the scenes involving the Mandinka, but were also careful to show the ways in which the Middle Passage didn't destroy our cultural ties. I was moved. Some things were hard to watch but so necessary. And I totally scoffed at the idea that some black people were "tired of all these slave movies". I never hear Jewish complain about the Holocaust movies... or Vets complain about war movies..... We c...
When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I didn't want to know the gender. I was adamant. So was my husband. We wanted to be surprised. For us, it was simple: I didn't want to pigeonhole my kid into a gender specific way of being from birth. Baby R would be a baby. Period. Knowing the sex isn't what concerned us most. Because my pregnancy was so difficult, all I cared about was if the kid was going to be healthy. But we had no idea how folks were so obsessed with finding out. They didn't understand why we didn't care. They wanted to know what names we picked out even though we told them we had names for both boys and girls (aka unisex names). Why wasn't the room going to be pink or blue? Why did I not want pink at all?(for the record, I hate pink!) They didn't wanna buy us gifts (even though we had a comprehensive registry that was gender neutral and full of good basic items) unless they knew the gender. It was frustrating. Look, a baby is a baby. Onsies ...
My friend from grad school asked a simple question: "Seriously... How the hell did our mamas do it all?" I sat and pondered the question. I thought about it. As I typed, I thought of my own mother. I wrote back: Sis.. I don't know. My mama has been gone from this earth 7 months. Even in her last days she sat in her wheelchair and cooked, baked cakes and such. When I was younger, she worked 3 jobs despite having lupus. The short answer: black women are superhuman and extraordinary. And here I am.. Working, a newlywed, trying to get a Phd and feel like I'm going to fall apart. I don't feel like I'm made from the same stuff My mama was. But somehow we get through it... We have to. We are deep down made from the same stuff. Just have to channel it... Conjure it. Even after I wrote that response, I had to sit with it for a while. Conjure it? Can I conjure it? Do I even believe what I wrote? Months after my response... I am still waiti...
*vacuums this blog* Hello you all! Howdy! How are ya? I think when we last left off on this journey,way back in October 2015 , I was talking about how happy I was but yet I wasn't willing to share EVERYTHING that could be attributed to this happiness. I know.. from a blogger's aspect this is probably death to a blog. But hell, as long as I own this domain name... it's going to be going. And evolving. (Even if I am not sharing everything) Speaking of evolving... I can at least share this. This blog started as a way to express the trials and tribulations as a divorcee' trying to navigate single life in the Deep South's largest metropolis. Since then, I've dated..been hurt... loved again....gotten engaged... gotten married... bought a home... started a Phd program..passed my comprehensive exams... and now I had a baby <3 (pictured: HubbyDude and GoGo having K-care time ) Yes, I had a child. It was the one thing I had doubts that I would ever d...
*blows the dust off this blog again* You know.. I am so terrible at blogging. *sigh* I wish I could tell you some fantastical story that I won the lottery and I just was trying to get used to being rich and having a driver... but that isn't the case. I haven't blogged because I have been very busy. I am still in school. I have my comprehensive exams end of October. I am developing my prospectus. And I am working still.. full time and involved in big projects. I am still adjusting to being a wife.... along with other things. And trying to work out a schedule that allows some self-care. It's tough. And although I love Wonder Woman... I cannot be her 24/7 . Shoot.. I can't even watch TV without feeling a tiny bit guilty... I guess Scandal has to wait. I go through moments where I feel great about life.. and then moments where I feel like at any moment it can all come crushing down on my head. There are things going on in my life that I am so delighted about. ...