Is for this tired conversation to be over. For the record, there is nothing wrong with black women. OK?
I read some ignorance offered by one of the "poets" of our time...some a$$ rapper named Slim Thug. His contribution to the discussion was same drivel that keeps getting repeated in the comments sections of more widely read blogs on the internet: "black women have high standards", "need to bow down to show men more respect", and that "white women do whatever men tell them to do."
Wrong, wrong, WRONG!
I don't even need to address his stupidity because it is no use arguing with a fool. So, my contribution to the discussion is to point out that there is nothing wrong with black women as a group. Collectively, we are good.
Individually, well that is another matter. But that would be true of white women, Latina women and women of every other racial and ethnic category. So it is an overstatement to paint all women with the same broad brush, just as it would be an overstatement to say that all rappers are effin' idiots when really, at this juncture, that statement is squarely aimed at Slim Thug.
I can't answer for the rest of black womendom, but the reason why so many of us don't get married has nothing to do with high standards, a failure to properly genuflect, or drama-free white women. Plenty of women are married with high standards, to partners that value mutual respect in a relationship, and (surprise) are not WHITE. Marriage is a choice and with everything in life, things happen for a reason.
A lot of my single, unmarried black girlfriends are not married because the men they prefer to date are in short supply. A few of my single white unmarried friends face the same dilemna. Many single 30 and 40-something women have consciously chosen to stay single until the right "one" becomes available. And other single, unmarried women do not wish to be married at all, especially if their options include such gems as Mr. Slim Thug...
Maybe this conversation would advance beyond the simplicities if more black women were actually participating in it. Sure the TV interviews include the perspectives of disillusioned single black women and black men certainly get their say, but if anyone ever bothered to include married black women there might be a more enlightened discussion. Wouldn't the best advice for getting married come from women who are married? Maybe older women would add more nuance to the conversation as well.
Since no one asked me, I feel compelled to add my two cents anyway--take it easy. A lot of women who never thought that they would get married did because their attitudes about marriage were based in reality and not fantasy. I am one of those women. I never expected to get married and I never thought of marriage as the brass ring. I hoped that I would get married and have children, but it far more important for me to have a successful career (still working on that one) and to be content in my own skin. In the process of focusing on improving me for me, I met a man who was funny and who found me to be interesting just the way I was. He understood me and all of my quirks, and that is better than all of the stuff that supposedly makes for a good match.
So no single woman should have to change in order to get any man. A woman with high standards, who expects to be treated with respect, and has pride in herself is an asset, not a liability. If these qualities aren't good enough for you, then it is your loss.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Monday, June 07, 2010
Moving On...again
I've been running myself ragged these last couple of days, and it all caught up to me on Saturday right in the middle of my dance recital. What started as a tickle in my throat turned out to be a full-fledged bug that knocked me out flat. I am only about 60% better.
So, when I finally got it together to attend a meeting this morning, I was not expecting to walk away feeling like I had gone through it all again. Let's just say that things did not end well...
And it took a little while for it all to settle in, but I am a little peeved. Why me?
(I am not questioning God, I am just asking in general, why me? If I didn't care then why would I have [insert some self-sacrificing act in this space] but whatever)
But things could be so much worse, so instead of licking my wounds, I plan to work it out. One door closes and a window opens. A project that I had been thinking of starting could be implemented sooner because now the way is a lot clearer. I will just move on.
So, when I finally got it together to attend a meeting this morning, I was not expecting to walk away feeling like I had gone through it all again. Let's just say that things did not end well...
And it took a little while for it all to settle in, but I am a little peeved. Why me?
(I am not questioning God, I am just asking in general, why me? If I didn't care then why would I have [insert some self-sacrificing act in this space] but whatever)
But things could be so much worse, so instead of licking my wounds, I plan to work it out. One door closes and a window opens. A project that I had been thinking of starting could be implemented sooner because now the way is a lot clearer. I will just move on.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
No More!
It has been a minute and I am here to vent. Lots of new developments in my life, including a new baby...except, it is not my baby. It belongs to a younger family member. And thus, another child enters the world as a statistic.
(In my best Florida Evans impression--I am screaming Dayum, Dayum DAYUM as an imaginary punch bowl smashes at my feet.)
I am fine with the fact of this new addition because babies are blessings. As a married woman with no children of my own, I KNOW that babies are blessings, so my disappointment (disgruntlement, envy, whatever you want to label it) is with the circumstances.
But dang-nabit, I followed the rules. I went to school and stayed out of trouble. I met a nice man and together we built a decent life. I've never done drugs and I was once a deaconess in the church. Yes, I am having a Job moment...but this isn't really about me. This is my rant on what has become the status quo within the black community.
White children have parents. Latinos and Asians have families. Black children are bargaining chips and future reality show participants.
Sure children are born out of wedlock across the ethnic spectrum. And sometimes things don't work out, and families break up. Life happens. But when I read articles about how celebrity baby mamas have to get along or how a certain celebrity baby daddy is demanding a paternity test, I just shake my head. When did this isht become the norm? Whatever happened to shame?
No, your child isn't the reason why you should be ashamed--your behavior is. You should hold your head in shame when you learn that you've been knocked up by a man who already has children by other women. You should hold your head in shame when you become a father after a casual sexual encounter with a woman whose name you barely remember. You should be ashamed when you realize that you could have been exposed to any number of sexually transmitted diseases. You ought to be ashamed that you had to lug your newborn infant to court in order to establish custody, child support and a visitation schedule. You ought to be too ashamed to show your face in public if your paternity was confirmed on national television by Maury Povich.
Yet, the only people who seemed to have any shame are those of us without the drama. Like my single unmarried, childless girlfriends whose lives have now become the subject of countless articles lamenting their inability to find suitable mates. Or the childless married couples who are emotionally and financially extorted into paying for the right to become parents while every other fertile Myrtle pops children out like rabbits. Was it some cosmic joke that the responsible folks ended up with the short end of the stick?
Frankly, I am at a loss for words although certain apocalyptic terms seem applicable--epidemic, catastrophic, and damned come to mind. Is there a such thing as a normal black family anymore (or was the Cosby Show really fiction)? Has no one heard about the permanent damage inflicted by the absence of black fathers and/or positive male role models? And what about the example set by black single mothers whose poor choices contribute to this perpetual cycle of broken families? Is it just a terrible coincidence that family dysfunction is passed on to future generations just like genetic disorders?
Children deserve to come into the world with as little baggage as possible since it is through living that we acquire all of the stuff that comes to characterize who we are and how the world perceives us. It used to be that racism hampered our kids' ability to get a decent start in life as skin color was regarded as an uncompromising liability. But nowadays we load our children down with duffle bags of drama so by the time they reach kindergarten, it is no wonder that so many of them have already given up.
I am disillusioned because I guess I assumed that in the Age of Obama, folks might be inspired by their example of a loving black family and mimic those values for a change. Guess not...but I can still HOPE.
(In my best Florida Evans impression--I am screaming Dayum, Dayum DAYUM as an imaginary punch bowl smashes at my feet.)
I am fine with the fact of this new addition because babies are blessings. As a married woman with no children of my own, I KNOW that babies are blessings, so my disappointment (disgruntlement, envy, whatever you want to label it) is with the circumstances.
But dang-nabit, I followed the rules. I went to school and stayed out of trouble. I met a nice man and together we built a decent life. I've never done drugs and I was once a deaconess in the church. Yes, I am having a Job moment...but this isn't really about me. This is my rant on what has become the status quo within the black community.
White children have parents. Latinos and Asians have families. Black children are bargaining chips and future reality show participants.
Sure children are born out of wedlock across the ethnic spectrum. And sometimes things don't work out, and families break up. Life happens. But when I read articles about how celebrity baby mamas have to get along or how a certain celebrity baby daddy is demanding a paternity test, I just shake my head. When did this isht become the norm? Whatever happened to shame?
No, your child isn't the reason why you should be ashamed--your behavior is. You should hold your head in shame when you learn that you've been knocked up by a man who already has children by other women. You should hold your head in shame when you become a father after a casual sexual encounter with a woman whose name you barely remember. You should be ashamed when you realize that you could have been exposed to any number of sexually transmitted diseases. You ought to be ashamed that you had to lug your newborn infant to court in order to establish custody, child support and a visitation schedule. You ought to be too ashamed to show your face in public if your paternity was confirmed on national television by Maury Povich.
Yet, the only people who seemed to have any shame are those of us without the drama. Like my single unmarried, childless girlfriends whose lives have now become the subject of countless articles lamenting their inability to find suitable mates. Or the childless married couples who are emotionally and financially extorted into paying for the right to become parents while every other fertile Myrtle pops children out like rabbits. Was it some cosmic joke that the responsible folks ended up with the short end of the stick?
Frankly, I am at a loss for words although certain apocalyptic terms seem applicable--epidemic, catastrophic, and damned come to mind. Is there a such thing as a normal black family anymore (or was the Cosby Show really fiction)? Has no one heard about the permanent damage inflicted by the absence of black fathers and/or positive male role models? And what about the example set by black single mothers whose poor choices contribute to this perpetual cycle of broken families? Is it just a terrible coincidence that family dysfunction is passed on to future generations just like genetic disorders?
Children deserve to come into the world with as little baggage as possible since it is through living that we acquire all of the stuff that comes to characterize who we are and how the world perceives us. It used to be that racism hampered our kids' ability to get a decent start in life as skin color was regarded as an uncompromising liability. But nowadays we load our children down with duffle bags of drama so by the time they reach kindergarten, it is no wonder that so many of them have already given up.
I am disillusioned because I guess I assumed that in the Age of Obama, folks might be inspired by their example of a loving black family and mimic those values for a change. Guess not...but I can still HOPE.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, TIGER!
Oh man, have you stepped in s&*#!
OK, for starters, I don't care who you've slept with other than your wife. I don't care that almost all of these alleged "other" women are exactly the types that end up telling all your business on the Today show. I don't care that your wife probably beat your a$$ and will still get $5 million once this all blows over...
Not too many people are on your side, save for a few columnists like Jason Whitlock, whose latest column about your troubles I read at the urging of the husband. He made some interesting points (some of which, I had already expressed to the husband privately)... Like how this would not really be news if your wife had been black (although I am starting to rethink that position because if your wife had been black, the story would have been that you were killed in that car accident outside of your house). This story would not be news if there were more serious things going on in the world, say like a war in Afghanistan. Or if Barack Obama had done something extraordinary like win the Nobel Peace Prize...
OK, well one out of three...nah, bruh you're screwed.
Right now, the Patron Saint of Extraordinary Humanity (Michael Jackson) is looking down on you and shaking his head because in life, he dealt with the some of the same madness. Because when you reach the heights of fame, there is an inevitably long and hard fall from grace. Michael fell so hard it created a chasm in the earth so deep that it only began to refill with his untimely death. Tiger, while you are certainly no Michael Jackson, your fall fits the pattern.
And your redemption will come, thankfully, without someone having to die (although your marriage could become the casualty in all of this). The public will forget about this as soon as the next big scandal occurs. Even all of those self-righeous pricks in the sports world who knew all about your unchecked libido and kept your dirty little secrets--they will be back in your corner as soon as you win your next tournament. Even my father, one of your biggest fans (the only man I know who would rather watch you play golf than to get out on a course and hit a few balls himself), the Catholic church deacon, will forgive you and root for you as if nothing ever happened.
That is just how fame is. One day you are up, and the next day you are the punchline of late-night jokes (and the object of an upcoming porno). But something more salacious will happen and the world can obsess about someone else's hubris. Just click your heels three times and repeat, "This too shall pass, this too shall pass" (and hope that the Salahis or the balloon boy parents get indicted).
OK, for starters, I don't care who you've slept with other than your wife. I don't care that almost all of these alleged "other" women are exactly the types that end up telling all your business on the Today show. I don't care that your wife probably beat your a$$ and will still get $5 million once this all blows over...
Not too many people are on your side, save for a few columnists like Jason Whitlock, whose latest column about your troubles I read at the urging of the husband. He made some interesting points (some of which, I had already expressed to the husband privately)... Like how this would not really be news if your wife had been black (although I am starting to rethink that position because if your wife had been black, the story would have been that you were killed in that car accident outside of your house). This story would not be news if there were more serious things going on in the world, say like a war in Afghanistan. Or if Barack Obama had done something extraordinary like win the Nobel Peace Prize...
OK, well one out of three...nah, bruh you're screwed.
Right now, the Patron Saint of Extraordinary Humanity (Michael Jackson) is looking down on you and shaking his head because in life, he dealt with the some of the same madness. Because when you reach the heights of fame, there is an inevitably long and hard fall from grace. Michael fell so hard it created a chasm in the earth so deep that it only began to refill with his untimely death. Tiger, while you are certainly no Michael Jackson, your fall fits the pattern.
And your redemption will come, thankfully, without someone having to die (although your marriage could become the casualty in all of this). The public will forget about this as soon as the next big scandal occurs. Even all of those self-righeous pricks in the sports world who knew all about your unchecked libido and kept your dirty little secrets--they will be back in your corner as soon as you win your next tournament. Even my father, one of your biggest fans (the only man I know who would rather watch you play golf than to get out on a course and hit a few balls himself), the Catholic church deacon, will forgive you and root for you as if nothing ever happened.
That is just how fame is. One day you are up, and the next day you are the punchline of late-night jokes (and the object of an upcoming porno). But something more salacious will happen and the world can obsess about someone else's hubris. Just click your heels three times and repeat, "This too shall pass, this too shall pass" (and hope that the Salahis or the balloon boy parents get indicted).
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sweet Release
I am at a crossroads. To continue on the chaotic path I've been traveling for the last few years or to make a change and go into the unknown...As of today, I have made the choice to change course. It is a painful decision, fraught with uncertainty, but I have to do it. To continue the way that I have been going feels suicidal.
To recap: since 2003, I have been on my own. I have been working from the spare bedroom in my house as a solo proprietor/independent contractor/perpetual volunteer with mixed results. It was never a question of ability, because I have been pretty good at the various projects I have undertaken, but it has become an issue of stamina and more importantly, one of boundaries. Right now there is no difference between my work life and my home life and it has been killing me. There is no such thing as a movie night with my husband, a lazy Sunday or even a vacation away from it all. It is all one big blur.
I don't know what to do and what will happen next. As of the end of this month, I will still have a part-time job, but I also have another birthday coming. I think it is about time that I have plans to do something special to celebrate me for a change. I don't want a party, but I want to go out and enjoy myself and then come home with my husband and fall asleep without thinking about the pile of things to do in my office or around the house. I want to let go of family drama, bills that may never get paid, stress, and everything else that brought me to the brink of thinking that I would be better off if I drove my car off a cliff.
Woosah!
To recap: since 2003, I have been on my own. I have been working from the spare bedroom in my house as a solo proprietor/independent contractor/perpetual volunteer with mixed results. It was never a question of ability, because I have been pretty good at the various projects I have undertaken, but it has become an issue of stamina and more importantly, one of boundaries. Right now there is no difference between my work life and my home life and it has been killing me. There is no such thing as a movie night with my husband, a lazy Sunday or even a vacation away from it all. It is all one big blur.
I don't know what to do and what will happen next. As of the end of this month, I will still have a part-time job, but I also have another birthday coming. I think it is about time that I have plans to do something special to celebrate me for a change. I don't want a party, but I want to go out and enjoy myself and then come home with my husband and fall asleep without thinking about the pile of things to do in my office or around the house. I want to let go of family drama, bills that may never get paid, stress, and everything else that brought me to the brink of thinking that I would be better off if I drove my car off a cliff.
Woosah!
Friday, November 13, 2009
I Don't Mean Any Harm...
My grandmother used to say that right before delivering a polite insult. To the targets of her zingers, it was the bit of sugar that helped the medicine go down. To everyone else within earshot, it was a left hook to the jaw with a smiley face on the front of the glove.
Gosh I miss her.
Because if she were still here, there are a bunch of folks I would line up in front of her so that she could let them have it. As her granddaughter and I think she would approve if I borrowed her phrase to use on a few deserving people:
I don't mean any harm, but maybe you shouldn't try to run an institution by remote control.
I don't mean any harm, but you remind me of the Wizard of Oz--just a man hiding behind a curtain with a microphone.
I don't mean any harm, but if you don't want to be treated like a whore try wearing clothes.
I don't mean any harm, but if you really want to know how she is doing, just knock on her door and ask.
I don't mean any harm, but you are not perfect.
I don't mean any harm, but you could stand to be more forgiving.
I don't mean any harm, but you might be certifiable.
I don't mean any harm, but when you say that you are sorry for doing something, you prove that you mean it by not repeating the same bad behavior.
I don't mean any harm, but telling everyone your business won't solve your problem.
I don't mean any harm, but church should not be treated like an escape from reality.
I don't mean any harm, but you married a bitch.
I don't mean any harm, but you are an asshole.
I don't mean any harm, but if you can't think of a decent name for your child then do all of us a favor and name him/her after the doctor. I'm sure the doctor wasn't named after a jello flavor.
I don't mean any harm, but if you are that in love with the sound of your own voice then maybe you should get a job in radio instead of talking me to death.
I don't mean any harm, but I am pretty sure that I meant no when I said it the first time.
I don't mean any harm, but if the man really wanted to take away your guns/freedoms/etc. he would have done so by now. After all, he is the President.
I don't mean any harm, but what do you expect from a news network that is named after a type of dog?
I don't mean any harm, but what were you thinking?
Gosh I miss her.
Because if she were still here, there are a bunch of folks I would line up in front of her so that she could let them have it. As her granddaughter and I think she would approve if I borrowed her phrase to use on a few deserving people:
I don't mean any harm, but maybe you shouldn't try to run an institution by remote control.
I don't mean any harm, but you remind me of the Wizard of Oz--just a man hiding behind a curtain with a microphone.
I don't mean any harm, but if you don't want to be treated like a whore try wearing clothes.
I don't mean any harm, but if you really want to know how she is doing, just knock on her door and ask.
I don't mean any harm, but you are not perfect.
I don't mean any harm, but you could stand to be more forgiving.
I don't mean any harm, but you might be certifiable.
I don't mean any harm, but when you say that you are sorry for doing something, you prove that you mean it by not repeating the same bad behavior.
I don't mean any harm, but telling everyone your business won't solve your problem.
I don't mean any harm, but church should not be treated like an escape from reality.
I don't mean any harm, but you married a bitch.
I don't mean any harm, but you are an asshole.
I don't mean any harm, but if you can't think of a decent name for your child then do all of us a favor and name him/her after the doctor. I'm sure the doctor wasn't named after a jello flavor.
I don't mean any harm, but if you are that in love with the sound of your own voice then maybe you should get a job in radio instead of talking me to death.
I don't mean any harm, but I am pretty sure that I meant no when I said it the first time.
I don't mean any harm, but if the man really wanted to take away your guns/freedoms/etc. he would have done so by now. After all, he is the President.
I don't mean any harm, but what do you expect from a news network that is named after a type of dog?
I don't mean any harm, but what were you thinking?
Friday, August 14, 2009
Half and Half: A Metaphor
OK, so my latest rerun obsession is a little-known sitcom called "Half & Half" (H&H) which originally aired on UPN a few years ago. I liked this show a lot when it was on, but only vaguely recall that it was a casualty of the UPN-WB merger. So, I find myself in a must-see TV mode similar to my past obsessions with "As Time Goes By" on PBS, "Dharma and Greg" on WE, "Charmed" on TNT, and "Homicide: Life on the Streets" on WGN (all in reruns).
Unfortunately there were only four seasons of H&H, and since I missed the entire fourth season due to my teaching schedule, I cheated and looked online to see how things ended. I have been pleasantly surprised by how much better the show has gotten near the end, so my question to the network: why cancel a solid show just as it hit its stride?
I could call my suspicion a name, but instead I will simply describe the symptoms: (1) a sitcom starring blacks characters; (2) gets scheduled on the one throwaway night of TV; (3) where it becomes highly rated among black viewers; (4) so the network moves it around on the programming schedule; (5) and ultimately it gets cancelled after a couple of seasons. The official word often is that the show was in decline; yet in the case of H&H, the show had been among the highest rated on the network before the merger.
So I will call it a name--Show Business as Usual (OK, that is a phrase :), but how else should I describe the phenomenon in which a country as diverse as America only has room in primetime for one person of color at a time--who at the moment appears to be President Obama? Sure that might be an exaggeration, but aside from all those people of color who have recurring roles on the nightly news as criminals, terrorists, lunatic dictators and ball-players, where is the rest of America?
Consider the fact that I have never seen an all-Asian sitcom, and that most of the Latinos on TV other than those tagged as 'aliens' by Lou Dobbs are on the Spanish-language TV networks. While individual black, Asian and Latino actors appear on scripted dramas like The Closer, Law & Order, Grey's Anatomy and CSI, there is no Asian or Latino equivalent to the Cosby Show (save for the Obamas, who are the 21st Century Huxtables).
Since I am only raising this issue after the CW just cancelled its last two 'black' sitcoms, I am behind the ball (especially since H&H was cancelled back in 2006). But why hasn't there been more diversity beyond the programming ghetto of the now-defunct UPN, the Atlanta Housewives and whichever spin-off of Flavor of Love is airing at the moment? Why can't mediocre shows starring people of color get a shot on the major networks? Clearly it makes no difference how long a show airs since most new shows get cancelled anyway. (I am purposely ignoring Tyler Perry for another rant later).
Are you hearing me President Obama? How are you going to solve this problem?
Unfortunately there were only four seasons of H&H, and since I missed the entire fourth season due to my teaching schedule, I cheated and looked online to see how things ended. I have been pleasantly surprised by how much better the show has gotten near the end, so my question to the network: why cancel a solid show just as it hit its stride?
I could call my suspicion a name, but instead I will simply describe the symptoms: (1) a sitcom starring blacks characters; (2) gets scheduled on the one throwaway night of TV; (3) where it becomes highly rated among black viewers; (4) so the network moves it around on the programming schedule; (5) and ultimately it gets cancelled after a couple of seasons. The official word often is that the show was in decline; yet in the case of H&H, the show had been among the highest rated on the network before the merger.
So I will call it a name--Show Business as Usual (OK, that is a phrase :), but how else should I describe the phenomenon in which a country as diverse as America only has room in primetime for one person of color at a time--who at the moment appears to be President Obama? Sure that might be an exaggeration, but aside from all those people of color who have recurring roles on the nightly news as criminals, terrorists, lunatic dictators and ball-players, where is the rest of America?
Consider the fact that I have never seen an all-Asian sitcom, and that most of the Latinos on TV other than those tagged as 'aliens' by Lou Dobbs are on the Spanish-language TV networks. While individual black, Asian and Latino actors appear on scripted dramas like The Closer, Law & Order, Grey's Anatomy and CSI, there is no Asian or Latino equivalent to the Cosby Show (save for the Obamas, who are the 21st Century Huxtables).
Since I am only raising this issue after the CW just cancelled its last two 'black' sitcoms, I am behind the ball (especially since H&H was cancelled back in 2006). But why hasn't there been more diversity beyond the programming ghetto of the now-defunct UPN, the Atlanta Housewives and whichever spin-off of Flavor of Love is airing at the moment? Why can't mediocre shows starring people of color get a shot on the major networks? Clearly it makes no difference how long a show airs since most new shows get cancelled anyway. (I am purposely ignoring Tyler Perry for another rant later).
Are you hearing me President Obama? How are you going to solve this problem?
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