'Be anxious for nothing..." ~Philippians 4:6

Saturday, March 31, 2012

WRONG ADDRESS


Some living in luxury
Treated like kings
Some living in poverty
Lose everything
Things done on purpose
They'd never do there
Thoughts words and deeds
All empty of care
Mess makers clueless
Who cleans up the mess?
Sometimes it's not you
It's just your address

Perception.
Perception's the operative word.
Suspicious suspicions
Border on absurd
Conclusions drawn
In zero proof or less
Sometimes it's not you
It's just your address

So move. Get up. Get out. Go be
Where, among things respected
Are Humanity,
Truth, Justice, Family
Unless
It's safe to be you
And maintain your address
And your customs and culture
Beliefs and traditions
Dignity, Standing, Livelihood, Positions
Where do you belong
Are you cursed? Are you blessed?
Sometimes it's you-- right
But at the wrong address

Friday, March 30, 2012

A SOUVENIR?


A friend offered me a ride into the city from Seabrook after a studio session yesterday. I was sure I would hop on a train or into a cab immediately after exiting her car, but I decided to take a walk instead. I was in such a good mood, and the weather was mild.
As I approached a convenience store, I decided to go in and check out the produce. I saw some very nice plums and decided on them. As I walked the aisles I picked up some olive oil, popcorn, and some Dove soap, too. When I got to the register, the cashier told me the total. I didn't have the exact amount so I gave the cashier 2 bills. She printed my receipt and counted my change. When she turned to me I noticed she had the bulk of my change in one hand, had separated out 1 dollar, and was dangling it in her other hand. In my head I was thinking, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to reunite that dollar with the rest of his friends". She smiled and asked in a lilting Latin accent, "Wouldn't you like to purchase a MegaMillions ticket with THIS dollar? It's up to 500 million dollars. I know you could use that kind of money!" I thought it was funny that she had to advertise it. It was funnier how she had my dollar waving in the air as if it was destined to land in the cash register and never see the inside of my wallet. Maybe she thought I was funny AND odd for coming into the store and not even asking about a lottery ticket. Was I the only person who had walked into the store and actually gone past the register without trying to see how lucky I might be? Yep. I really, really came in to look at the fruit, and of course, popcorn is always a good purchase--any time, any where.
I don't play the lottery. It's not even something I think about. I'd heard the broadcast news and read social networking posts, but buying a lottery ticket was the farthest thing from my mind as I strolled down Georgia Avenue. When I heard, "Sure. Why not.", I almost asked, "Hey! Who said that? That sounded like MY voice!"
Uh...It was...

She printed out the ticket, wished me well, and told me to come back anytime. I put it in my bag and continued my walk. If you paid me, I couldn't tell you the name of the store.
For me, casually surrendering the dollar was harmless, thoughtless. It was my non-tax deductible contribution to DC Public Schools or whatever else politicians say lottery money supports. I didn't stand there pondering my salvation, or considering the political, social, or economic implications. It was NOT, the beginning of a resource-draining habit. I really gave it no thought. I've been thinking about it today. Yes. I could have done a lot of other things with that dollar.
Yes. I'm a Christian. I know.
"The just shall live by faith." I know. I do.
I shouldn't gamble. I know. I don't.
Tithing is the way. I know. I'm a witness.
Gambling has destroyed people, families, relationships. I know. I read.
I could have said, "No thank you." I know. I didn't.
I could have bought another bag of popcorn.
*sigh*

Acts 3;19 WOULD be the passage of scripture that caught my eye today: "Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord."

*sigh*

Help me Rafiki. "It's in the past."

It occurred to me, "You bought a lottery ticket. YOU and your no-lottery-playing, betting-casino-going self. I could almost see "YiaYia" from those hilarious Athenos Greek Yogurt commercials jump out of some bushes, shake her head at me and say in her deadpan way, "You are going to Hell".
I know. it's not that deep. But I did ask myself, "What if you actually win?"
It's a huge "what if" but I really have wondered today. Maybe that's a huge part of the problem with the whole gambling thing. Maybe it's not just the money that people waste, but the time spent wondering "What IF" and not concentrating on what IS.
Still, I wondered, and there ARE some things I definitely would do immediately if my bank account was suddenly enlarged exponentially. There's a hard working young woman who calls me Mom. I'd like to see her living in the neighborhood she says would be most suitable for her long commute to work. I'd like to make some student loans disappear. There are three people I would love to see in more accessible homes. One level. No stairs. And those walk in showers/tubs in their bathrooms...There's a hoarding situation. I'd like to remove the person to more humane living conditions, have the place completely sanitized, remodeled, refurnished and pay for counseling if that's needed. There's an addicted woman I would love to send to a reputable rehab that is known for its success stories. There's a friend who left everything to go and care for her ailing mother. There's a certain church that would no longer have to call itself homeless. There are some family members who deserve to go to college. I'd even landscape my street and make sure there was grass everywhere grass is supposed to be. I'd finance arts programs in my neighborhood schools. There's the Lisner Home in NW, the Congress Heights Senior Wellness Center. There's a music enthusiast who, I think, could use a building so his home can be his home. I'd buy paint and canvas and paint up a storm...

There's a lot I would do. In the meantime, I and the people who know me will still be in shock, and even laugh that I let that nice cashier talk me out of my dollar.
Wait. Maybe it's not merely a lottery ticket after all. It says "commemorative". Says it right on the front in big letters. See? That makes it a...a souvenir! That's it! Yes! I bought a souvenir!
Okay. I know. I live here. I didn't buy it in Paris or Kalamazoo. People buy souvenirs in their own hometowns all the time, don't they? Well...don't they?
I have a souvenir of the world's largest jackpot. It's a weak explanation that I can't even convince myself to fall for, but that's my story to soothe my church girl guilt, and I'm sticking with it. I'll let you know if it works out after the winning numbers are read, and they match the ones I'm not supposed to be looking at.
*sigh*...
Gotta find some sackcloth and ashes to go with my souvenir.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

JUSTICE

"Justice- The constant and perpetual disposition to render every person his or her due; The conformity of one's actions and will to the law; treating people in a non-prejudicial manner."

Funny how we demand it for ourselves but can be so swift to deny it to others.

I felt like drawing again. I had no idea it would turn out this way. It just seemed to evolve, in light of current events. I decided to visit one of my favorite websites and make a card.

Classic Without Edge 5x7 folded card
Vanessa Renee Williams:Art
View the entire collection of cards.

KNOW YOUR WORTH

I love to sing. I would do it for nothing. That's how much I love it and thank God for it. 
I love to hear good singing/music, too. There's nothing like the sound of your voice blended with the voices of others. Instruments blending with other instruments. I love harmony. I am still, however, trying to find the harmony between what I love to do and the business of it. Sometimes it's great--especially when dealing with honest people who respect not only you, but what you do. 
There are those who fully understand the importance and relevance of Art and support it in a manner that sustains it. There is another element that sees the Art that others create as a means for them to get paid with negotiable tender, while the artist feeds on exposure. 

There is an element that assumes and feeds on an artist's desperation to be exposed to a buying public, but it has no regard whatsoever for the artist or their work. It's evident in the manner in which they speak, the arrangements they make. It's the show they care about and the extent to which they will profit. The people in it are incidentals.

Every time someone hands me a check for singing, it STILL feels odd. I'm a part of the "reasonable service" generation, but I've evolved somewhat. I realize I like to eat and pay my bills on time just like other folk do. 

It amazes me how people will go all out for everything from napkins to printing to sound, but always want to stiff the musicians and singers, or expect them to work for free. Once again, creditors want negotiable tender, NOT chicken tenders--or sheet cake, corsages, certificates, pizza, mini trophies, floral arrangements, meatballs, gift bags, or red punch. 

What's with the cons? The worst person in the world for a con to deal with is someone who can see right through them. They go from nice and smooth to stuttering, belligerent, and condescending in a matter of seconds when they realize they're not dealing with an idiot. Some folks have convinced themselves that you need what they have to offer and you have been sitting around waiting for it. There are slicksters who want to line their pockets at your expense and by way of your labor. They'll drop words like "ministry" and "non-profit" and "small organization" and "don't have a lot of money" because they think you're gullible. It's the kind of behavior that gives legitimate charities a bad name. 
What makes folk think you aren't charitable with your time, talent and resources on a regular basis? Is it because of their perception of what they think you have? What makes people think you don't need to be paid for your work? Would THEY go to THEIR job and announce to their boss that they will be working for nothing, or not enough to support themselves or their families?

People talk a good game and don't realize you are google-ing them as they speak. When they find out you DO have mechanisms in place to handle your affairs, they get antsy. They want to deal with you because they think you're a pushover. They want to make you feel as if they're doing you a favor. Somehow they think you will never do what you do ever again in life if you don't accept their offer. Do they have a clue how much you love what you do? They'll try to school you about things you've been a part of for years. They'll drop names, too, as if you don't personally know the people they are talking about. Do people know how easily information can be gathered these days?
Dare to stand up for yourself; know your worth, and all of a sudden you're "not all that". They seem to forget--you didn't contact them, have encountered people like them before, and won't lose any sleep over the conversation. They forget, THEY CONTACTED YOU. They may not see it, but what it will cost you to participate could be better utilized to handle your own needs, might leave you in the red, or could be better used to meet the legitimate need of someone else.
Be wise. Never be that pressed to do anything. Keep learning. Don't be discouraged. All business is not bad. Sometimes, you have to say, "No". 

Now, let the users and slicksters and opportunists go on and call someone else who just may be even more fed up with foolishness than you are. Wait. Hear the phone ring? Go on. Answer it, and don't be the jerk you have every right to be. Accept their apology and listen to them deal with you respectfully, honestly, fairly--the way they forgot how to in the first place. Maybe it was your assignment to show them how to deal with people so that they will never be arrogant, too familiar, pushy and deceitful again when it comes to the respectable work, time, effort, and talent of another human being. 

Don't ever allow anyone to diminish you. or make your livelihood their hobby. Be reasonable. Don't price yourself out of existence, but know your worth. Be the cheerful giver that God loves, but don't be a sucker.

Friday, March 23, 2012

FOR MY NEPHEWS



I don't have a son. 
I have nephews, though. 

When I think of Trayvon Martin, I immediately think of them. 
They are young Black males, born and living in America. 
They are well behaved, smart, helpful, and polite, but to some people even the youngest one is a potential, future threat. 
I know there is nothing dangerous about any of them. 

While they are being encouraged to excel in school, consider professions, and make positive contributions to society, somewhere there is a jail cell being prepared that many people believe they are destined to occupy. 

When they go into Circle K or Toys R Us, someone expects them to steal. 
There are places where some people don't think they belong at all

In the minds of some, they are supposed to grow up and become, among other things, unemployable, illiterate, deadbeat dads, rapists, dropouts, drug dealers or drug users.
 
The only good some people think they are, and will be up to, is NO good.
 
Who has set this precedent? Why do Black baby boys come into this world faced with such doubt, disdain, and low expectations? 
How will they ever live it down even when they are provided every opportunity to fare well?

I remember hearing my sister telling her eldest grandson, "You are not going anywhere with me looking like that." 
He had to either change his clothes, or not go out with her. 
Her grandsons know that there's attire that is suitable for traveling with Grannie. 
Sagging pants, backward caps, uncombed hair, or cut-off, dirty, dingy anything will not do. There's a standard that supersedes style. 
Call Grannie old-fashioned, un-hip, or unreasonable, but if they want to get into her car, they heed the words and follow the requirements of someone who has lived a little bit longer than they have. 
It may be unfair, but she knows how they will be perceived regardless of their attire. 
She doesn't want them to give anyone even the slightest notion that they are trouble. 

It's exhausting how much time Black people spend trying to make other people comfortable.

People have been awfully diplomatic, even dishonest in the last few weeks, but the people who dare to say that certain apparel IS associated with certain seedy activities, have been raked over the coals. 
We tell our children that first impressions are important; how they present themselves is vital, then we defend styles that even WE readily associate with criminals.

I recently read an article in which Geraldo Rivera pointed out the perception that certain attire inspires. 
Sorry, but he had a point. It was an unfortunate point, but we can't deny the truth in it.
 
I grew up in southeast DC, taught in southeast DC, and live in far SW. If I dialed 911 every time I saw a Black man or boy walking aimlessly down the street, wearing a hoodie, or behaving suspiciously I would have zero time to do anything else. 
However, the drunk guy who entered my building, wandered upstairs, and laid down on the landing, the two guys who tried to break into my neighbor's SUV, the guy who climbed up onto the awning and jumped through the stairwell window, and the guy who heard sirens, ran through the park, and scaled the playground gate, were all wearing hoodies.
 
I didn't say Geraldo was right, I said he had a point. He's a father, too. The operative word in all that he said is "perception".

I wonder what the conversation was between Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman. 
I don't know any adult who can stand a smart-mouthed kid. 
I don't know any kid who likes to be badgered. 
HAD he been disrespectful, profane, or evasive? Had he been polite and diplomatic? Had he been child-like and calm? 
No matter what words were exchanged, Trayvon should have made it home alive
Did he don his hood and pick up his pace before, or after he saw Zimmerman's car? 
Had they been in a confrontation in the past?
 
I don't know. All I DO know is there are so many factors that could have prevented it all, and they're bigger and older than Trayvon or George. 

What could have avoided it all didn't just materialize that fateful day. Never mind what Trayvon could have said, or how he could have said it. When Zimmerman was told that his services were not needed, he should have listened. All of us probably have been disappointed by instances of inefficiency where the police are concerned, but deciding to do what we think they AREN'T doing, is never a smart option. 

So, how DOES one walk down a street these days?
Do we need to teach our children how to maneuver with a purpose, now, even if they DON'T have one?
 
We were taught how to zig zag, duck, dodge and and keep it moving when the sniper was terrorizing the area, and we mastered THAT. 
Do we need to amend the "speech" with a lesson in how not to look suspicious? 

Where would be good places to start teaching "How To Look Like You Belong, 101? 
7-Eleven? 
The corner store? 
The ATM? 
The gas station? 
The bus stop?
The laundromat? 
The liquor store? 
The post office? 
Earth?
Is there a way to teach someone how to BE? 
Is there a particular stance, posture, or gaze? 
Should we have classes in how to not look like you're loitering or about to commit a crime? 

When it looks like you're being followed what do you do? 
Is that NOT the time to turn your face in the opposite direction, put on your hood and run? 
Oh. Wait. With the sagging pants, running is out of the question. Physics won't allow it. 
So-- should we start distributing belts in school? 
Is it time to have classes in formal conversation? 
Are we headed back to shuffling, bowed heads, and no eye contact?

Nephews, you can argue all day long about what ought to be, but if you keep ignoring what IS shame on you. 
You can keep saying "That was then, and this is now" and ignore the tremendous relevance of history, but you will do it to your own peril. 

Some people assume Black men and boys are dangerous, threatening, and menacing no matter how "baby" their faces are. It's just the way it is. 
You can keep fighting what, even in the light of common sense refuses to change, but what will it get you? 

Continue failing to learn how to effectively maneuver in territories of ignorance, while maintaining all of your dignity and humanity, and expect to be some frustrated brothers. 

The key is to be wise and motivated by mercy, love, grace and the power of forgiveness, while being fully aware of the world in which you live. 
Don't emulate something negative in word, thought, or deed, then get mad when you're identified by IT, and not your good name. 

Remember what Grandpa always said, "I don't care if everybody is doing it. If it's wrong, don't YOU do it. Be a leader, not a follower. If you're going to do something, let it be YOUR idea. Don't worry about somebody calling you a chicken. Just say, "Yeah. I'm a chicken. YOU do it."

You know what's right, Nephews. 
Don't wear yourselves out trying to convince those who pretend they don't know, but are too invested in wrong to do the right thing. 
Hatred exists. 
Racism exists. 
People who have perpetrated crimes so frequently that a profile exists, have made it extremely difficult for you, an already despised, mistrusted segment of society, but keep on succeeding.

There is a Black man and his family living in the White House. That is amazing and still a bit unbelievable to Grandpa, but it may be nothing to you. Some folk, however, are so angry about it that they can't see straight. 
Grandpa knows EXACTLY why. He has first-hand stories--lots of them. 
Grandpa has stories that should give him an excuse to be the most bitter, hateful, racist, unforgiving man on Earth. 
YOU, however, may be wondering why everybody's tripping over a Black President. Maybe you haven't noticed that people have tried all kinds of things to demonize the President, and for what? 
His office has been disrespected repeatedly. Why? 
Is it REALLY just politics?
 
In spite of images projected for eons on stage and screen; in spite of what people have taught their children about Black people, the President defies backward, ignorant opinions and flies in the face of uninformed conclusions. He is not the pimp walking, school skipping, drug selling, baby-making, irresponsible boogey man. 
How dare he be smart, well read, committed to his family, disciplined, controlled, refined, articulate, wise, and sober. 
You know, we know, he is in no way the exception. You have encountered a host of other Black men like him. Other people have not, nor do they want to. Other people have encountered, and only seek to encounter Black men who give them reasons to consider George Zimmerman, not Trayvon Martin, the real victim. 
Watch what's going to happen in the following weeks. Every negative thing that can be dug up about Trayvon Martin will surface in sick, heartless attempts to demonstrate that his life was worthless.

Trayvon was confronted while walking down his own street. President Obama was recently confronted while walking away from Air Force One. The inappropriateness of both confrontations confirm that many people feel so superior to others that they feel no need to address them properly. They think others are obligated to pay attention to them--or else. 
You just have to pray for people like that.

Nephews, you can have the right of way, exercise it, and still end up hurt. What's better? A dead or wounded hero, or a live example? 
Be able to walk away with mental notes to use the next time. 
Be smart. 
Harsh truth, wisdom, flexibility, and discretion are in order. What we would like to be, and what IS may be far apart. 
What's fair, and what IS may be two different animals. 
You don't have to be a punk or a coward, but you can be diplomatic. 
Perceptions, assumptions and biases are real. 
In the midst of changing what's flawed about what IS, facts have to be faced. 
Lessons have to be taught, and exceptions explained.

Jackie "Moms" Mabley said we teach our children to watch the light, but the light never hit anybody. Teach them to watch the cars, too.

Watch the cars, Nephews. Watch the cars.

RIGHTS

You can have the right of way, exercise it, and still end up dead. What's better? A dead hero or a live example? Be able to walk away with mental notes to use the next time. Harsh truth, wisdom, flexibility, and discretion are in order. What we would like to be, and what IS may be far apart. What's fair and what IS may be two different animals. You don't have to be a punk or a coward, but you can be diplomatic. Perceptions, assumptions and biases are real. In the midst of changing what's flawed about what IS, facts have to be faced. Lessons have to be taught, and exceptions explained.
Jackie "Moms" Mabley said we teach our children to watch the light, but the light never hit anybody. Teach them to watch the cars, too.

Monday, March 5, 2012

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

This day, 53 years ago, my parents married. I can imagine the plans that would have been made for this evening, flowers ordered, the cards, the special meal.
It's hard to believe it's been 9 years since my Mom died.
I stared at this photo for a long time today, and miss that pretty lady. Seeing the smile on her face lets me know I still have much to celebrate. Life tops the list.

IF YOU SEE SOMETHING...

Almost every day, no matter what the weather, a little before 8 A.M., a white van pulls up and parks on a side street. Casually dressed, and disheveled men and women walk down the hill, cross the street or seemingly wander out of the park and congregate around it for varying periods of time. No one takes anything away in boxes or bags as they leave.

*******

It's after one o'clock in the morning. The sound of a dial box is heard. Then from outside, a woman's slurred yelling is heard. "Can you open the door?!" The main door slams. She passes where she used to live, and ascends the stairs to a level where only one person resides. She commences banging on doors on every floor. One person inquires from the inside without opening their door. "Were you asleep? Did I disturb you? You got a few dollars?" A muffled angry reply is heard, then a door slams. More door banging. No one answers. She leaves the building and goes to the bus stop. After a while, a car pulls up. She crosses the street and gets into it. The car's lights go out. She remains inside for about 10 minutes. She exits. The car goes in one direction, she goes back to the bus stop.

*******

Two guys wearing all black, with hoods covering their heads, walk around a parked car. They look from side to side. One crosses the street. One stays near the car. Every time someone walks by, they freeze in their tracks. They walk to an adjacent street where another car is parked. From it, they retrieve a jack. They come back to the original car and, unsuccessfully attempt to jack it up. A woman and her child are exiting a car. They walk up to the woman and startle her. They talk, briefly. The woman shakes her head. They walk away from her. She hurries to get her things from her car, takes her child by the hand and goes into her building. They guys go back to the car. One opens the door and retrieves a long, metal tool. They go back to the curbside and try once again to jack up the car. They've been going through the motions required to jack up a car for a while, yet the car never elevates.

******

A car pulls up and parks. A guy walks down the hill and enters the back seat of the car. It's chilly outside, but his only outerwear is a light jacket. He remains inside the car for a few minutes. He exits. The car leaves. He walks quickly in the same direction the car has traveled.

*****

It's a school day. It's after 9 A.M. A group of uniformed kids is heading in a direction where there is no school. As they walk, they occasionally look back. They adjust their hoodies to obscure their faces. Some have backpacks. Some don't.

Harmless, explainable circumstances? Serious issues that deserve a 911 call? Or could it be proof that you are turning into your neighborhood's modern day version of Mrs. Kravitz?