Oh no.
As much as many would like to affix a "jealous wife" caption, I beg to differ.
This is neither "angry Black woman" nor insecure spouse, either.
This is the classic "Church Mother".
This is the classic "Church Mother".
You know her.
Prim.
Proper.
Champion of appropriate behavior--especially in public.
She's merciful, but one mustn't take too long to get oneself together.
One look is all one gets.
One should take that look as a warning. Ignore it, and one would be wise not to get too close-- unless wearing industry compliant, flame-resistant clothing.
Note the stiff posture, the clenched jaw, the extended fingers and clasped hands. Observe the steely, seemingly forward look that masks a terrifying peripheral glare that would pierce one's very soul.
Note the stiff posture, the clenched jaw, the extended fingers and clasped hands. Observe the steely, seemingly forward look that masks a terrifying peripheral glare that would pierce one's very soul.
Observe the rolling up of the sleeves--wait. They're three-quarter.
She has forgotten. It's a reflex.
This champion of righteousness, classy though she may be, has been in a fight before—fight to get people to understand what behavior is appropriate, and what deserves a good shushing, or ass whipping.
The church mother is very interested in the principal thing, and firmly believes that everyone in her personal space should be, as well. Interruptions are prohibited. She was going to buy the tape anyway, but don't make her miss something important.
The church mother is very interested in the principal thing, and firmly believes that everyone in her personal space should be, as well. Interruptions are prohibited. She was going to buy the tape anyway, but don't make her miss something important.
Woe to the one who displays blatant disregard, or wanders unknowingly into her environment bearing mischief.
The Church Mother feels that her trademark "look" should be enough. These days, it's called a "side-eye", but she championed it long ago. It has stopped all manner of ridiculousness in its tracks for centuries.
The Church Mother expects compliance after the first admonition. She does not ascribe to repeating herself. She has been known to chastise strangers—big and small.
She is fearless.
"Church is on".
"Church is on".
That means cease and desist any and all contrariness. Stop the chit chat.
One must immediately focus.
"Church is on", yet there is thoughtless playing, laughing, and inattention taking place. It is an inconceivable concept to the Church Mother; it is one of the highest forms of disrespect. It is blasphemy.
It is the absence of home-training—something that is never to be even an alleged representation of her home. It is a slap in her face, and she finds herself seconds away from slapping back.
As the impropriety continues, she becomes concerned about the negative opinions that others will have. She must act soon.
As the impropriety continues, she becomes concerned about the negative opinions that others will have. She must act soon.
The critical words that others will say about someone in her household further infuriates her, yet she maintains her dignified demeanor.
Her mind is racing. Those around her would be wise to sense the storm that is brewing; the boiling-point about to be reached, but they have been carried away and have forgotten-- not only the seriousness of the occasion, but more importantly they have clearly forgotten the identity and expectations of the person with whom they must soon travel home.
She prides herself in declaring that she "goes NOWHERE with a fool".
Many have testimonies of being abruptly snatched by one's collar and yanked back into a pew, having one's upper arm flesh pinched, or getting popped in the mouth with the popsicle-stick portion of a church fan.
No one has ever understood how a 17-foot, leafless branch could fit into a Church Mother's pocketbook, but it is there, and she commands it like Zorro.
Many have testimonies of being abruptly snatched by one's collar and yanked back into a pew, having one's upper arm flesh pinched, or getting popped in the mouth with the popsicle-stick portion of a church fan.
No one has ever understood how a 17-foot, leafless branch could fit into a Church Mother's pocketbook, but it is there, and she commands it like Zorro.
She must be more discreet in some instances, though.
She must think of the best way to end the foolishness that is flying in the face of the lessons that she KNOWS she has drilled before leaving home:
“We have to go out. Don't let me have to say anything to you. Don't ask for anything. Don't touch anything. Wherever you act up, that's where you're gonna get it. You think I'm playing? TRY me."
Careful not to be a distraction herself, she acts. Quietly, between clenched teeth, in a manner that would astonish even the best ventriloquist, and with the speed and flow of a skilled rapper, she whispers, "You thought I was playing, didn't you? Get your narrow behind over here. Come...here...now. Get up. Excuse yourself. I don't know about your little friends, but you KNOW better. Don't open your mouth. I wish you would cry. Come sit by me, and you better not move, or I'm gonna haul off and knock the living daylights out of you. Sit here, and act like you got some sense....over there laughing and taking pictures. Didn't I tell you to leave that camera in your pocket?
Careful not to be a distraction herself, she acts. Quietly, between clenched teeth, in a manner that would astonish even the best ventriloquist, and with the speed and flow of a skilled rapper, she whispers, "You thought I was playing, didn't you? Get your narrow behind over here. Come...here...now. Get up. Excuse yourself. I don't know about your little friends, but you KNOW better. Don't open your mouth. I wish you would cry. Come sit by me, and you better not move, or I'm gonna haul off and knock the living daylights out of you. Sit here, and act like you got some sense....over there laughing and taking pictures. Didn't I tell you to leave that camera in your pocket?
This ain't the playground! This ain't Chuck E. Cheese! You wait. When we get home, just go straight to your room and wait for me 'cause I'm gonna.... You done lost your whole mind.
I told you. Don't embarrass me. You wait. I bet you won't act a fool in church again...
Now sit back.
Unfold your arms.
Fix your face.
Did you hear me? I
said sit back...Hmph...Say something. I dare you."
On the other hand, maybe she was just sitting there with nothing negative on her mind at all.
Too bad we didn't see these photos first.
There's nothing church mothery, jealous, insecure, bitchy, childish, or annoyed about this elegant lady. Nothing at all.
Surprise.
These images are from the same event, and on the same day. No death ray glare here...
Unfortunately there's nothing particularly scandalous about a pleasant, even tempered, intelligent Black woman.
Why would we want someone to act out, or debase themselves simply for our amusement, or to fit some ignorant stereotype?
We could all take a lesson from her.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but unfortunately the real truth of the context of the picture, and the words written or spoken, don't always apply.
No comments:
Post a Comment