Intergenerational Genius; and now a word from my mother

Guest Blogger: Lendactic

     This weekend my daughter introduced me to sushi.   For many years I found the very idea of sushi distasteful (pun intended) then my daughter informed me it could be made with cooked fish, took me to an excellent Japanese restaurant for my first taste and rocked my taste buds.  Oh my goodness sushi is a huge explosion of taste, each layer complementing the other and stimulating various areas of my ecstatic tongue. Who knew!  My daughter introduced me to something amazing and I am a sushi fan for life.
     My daughter and I hunted down the ingredients (not easy to find seaweed in the small town I live in) and made our own sushi. Surprisingly it was very easy to make in spite of its complex taste.  This entire experience was enjoyable on so many levels.  It was nice to spend time with my daughter who I think is the best thing about my life, and I always enjoy broadening my experience, but this weekend made me think about the value in letting the young teach us old dogs . 
      I am a 51 year old a mother of three, college graduate, a fairly intelligent person, lifelong learner, avid knowledge seeker, critical thinker, independent, and generally a nice person.  Yet when my mother and I talk you would think I was a total idiot!  She talks to me as if I know nothing and she knows everything.  Yet her life is evidence of how little true wisdom she has acquired and used in her life. But she is old and sick and I let her lecture me and correct me and pretty much beat me up with her words so that she can continue to see herself as the expert with all the answers. It doesn't hurt me and I know this false image of herself is something she needs to hold onto but this weekend with my daughter made me think of all that my mother is missing by her need to have all the answers, right or wrong, and no longer asking questions or opening up herself to new ways of thinking. The saddest thing about her life are the walls she puts around herself to block pain and in the process block love. She takes a lot of medication--I wish medical science had a pill for this. Sushi might be a start if only this daughter could get her mother to experience it like my daughter did for me.  Well you know what they say about hope—it springs eternal so who knows.  What I know is that sushi is the bomb and my beautiful daughter is amazing.

Next Blog: Cup of love run dry: How we treat or mistreat those closest to us

Coming May 31st 2010 at the latest, be on the lookout.

Humility

      My mother is always saying that most of the problems in human relations are solvable through humility. The more and more I think about it, the more I agree. We try to complicate things, but humility is key. Read any relationship help guide book and they will discuss power and negotiating power. But do we ever stop to wonder why power is such a huge issue? I think the answer is pride. We have soooo much pride and need to always maintain power and control and that is where the problems start and where the solutions halt. The solution is humility.

     Merriam Webster defines humility as "a quality or state of being humble." Good ole Webster continues on to define humble as "1. Not proud or haughty: not arrogant or assertive. 2. Reflecting, expressing, or offered in a spirit of deference of submission <humble apology>." I think those terms are self explanatory, but dissecting these terms is vital in understanding this blog. (Guess this is the linguistic anthropologist in me as much as I hate to admit it.) Not proud or haughty, I personally think that pride is a useless emotion. What is the motive behind pride? 

     Pride implies a sort of competition, a desire to one up someone to increase their own feelings of pride or achievement. Oftentimes, in order to maintain your pride, you must belittle another. Ways to maintain pride; act condescendingly, not admit when you are wrong, not even consider the fact that someone else's ideas are just as profound or more profound than their own, ignore other's feelings because you are overly concerned with your own and you are concerned about how you are going to be perceived by others. None of these reasons benefit both parties involved. So I ask again, what is the motive behind pride and how could it possibly improve a relationship. If anything, it is a selfish emotion with even more self centered motives. Why can't we build ourselves up differently?

     Pride isn't simply an issue in romantic relationships; it plays a role in all of our human relations. I have a friend who doesn't completely believe in love; however, through his actions, he is a clear believer of pride. Pride goes hand and hand with competition. In this "me" generation, it is conditioned into us from a very young age. When a child accomplishes a feat the parent usually asks, "Now insert name aren't you proud?" This pride evolves into something that we begin to need like air at the expense of others. I would prefer to believe in something that may or may not be real, like love, than practice something that is very real and very deconstructive as pride. Lack of humility keeps your from fully appreciating people around you.  Humility is simple when we stop relying on pride to build ourselves up. So the next time you are debating whether or not to rub something into someone else's face, talk down to someone, or neglect an alternative way of doing something, stop and have a little humility. In the long run, it will save you a lot of trouble.

Why Black Women Can’t Love Black Men

     "Why is it so hard for Black women to love us [Black men]? Because we love them the way Amerikkka loves us" (Essex Hemphill). This statement, unpacked, reveals the intra and inter racial dynamics that continue to make Black women appear unloveable; however, the key word in this sentence is appear. In Mules and Men, Zora Neale Hurston (1935) describes the Black female experiences through imagery of mules of the earth. This means that Black women carry a plethora of burdens and wear a multitude of hats in society. We nursed white babies while feeding our own. We were/are simultaneously mammies, jezebels, sapphires, welfare queens, and bitches when convenient. Our looks make us "exotic" and "hypersexual," while our race makes us readily accessible. Whoever told you first wave feminism, a term and categorization I hate to use, was during the nineteenth and early twentieth century didn't know the heart, soul, and determination of Black, female slave women. While white women reinforced and reproduced White, male, patriarchy supremacy (props to bell hooks) to protect their own sanctity, Black women fought for control over their own bodies and families. Black women knew herbal concoctions to induce miscarriages, to prevent their children from a life in shackles. Black women led slave revolts in the United States, Brazil, and Haiti. Let's not forget Harriet Tubman successfully executing the first female led guerrilla movement along the Combahee River. This is not about which feminism was better and which was first, these examples illustrate how Black women continue to be the mules of the earth. With this positionality comes strength, resilience, resistance, and beauty but there is a flip side.

    The flip side of Black women's strength are the myths of the "black superwoman," "the black matriarch," and "the black female emasculator." These concepts did not appear out of thin air, institutional factors such as welfare reform and the Moynihan reports aided in the production and reproduction of these concepts. Regardless of their historical trajectory, one of the unfortunate outcomes was divisions in the Black community. I am sure I will get a great deal of criticism from Black men for this blog, but I don't agree in using silence as a way to hide "dirty laundry." What silence does is marginalize and oppress certain voices within a community. I am so sick and tired of Black men silencing Black women's issues on gender inequality, which is inextricably linked with classism and racism, because they think racism is the main issue. Until we combat racism, let's ignore the other issues in the Black community, including intraracial sexism. But when Black slave women were raped by the white slave owner, they were also being raped by their Black significant others and/or fellow slaves, an issue that is under researched and considered taboo. What we need to realize is rape is not simply a sexual act; rape is an act of power, oppression, and dominance. Rape is used as a weapon, oftentimes by the "powerless", to regain power and control in a way that usually do not directly affect the oppressor. In the case of intraracial rape in slave communities, male slaves used rape in an attempt to regain the power completely stripped from them during the inhuman institution of chattel slavery. This isn't Texas so I can call it what it is. The scope of intraracial rape are unknown and I am not discussing this to dismiss interracial rape and/or to excuse the actions of the rapists. I bring up intraracial and interracial rape in the slave community to provide context to the perception of Black women's bodies and their sexual availability. The case of Saartjie "Sarah" Baartman also illustrates this point. Black women are the scapegoats because of their intersectionalities of oppressions. Instead of privileging the discourses, or as Donna Harraway would call "situated knowledges," because of their unique lived experience, Black women were and continue to be silenced by white men, Black men, and white women… But some of us are brave.

    So how does the history of slavery and oppression fit into why Black women can't love Black men, after all that is the title of this blog? Hurston (1965) explains that, although Black women are the mules of the earth, they aren't passive victims. Mules are animals used to carry things, yet they are also stubborn and strong minded and willed. These are survival mechanisms that can easily be used in an alliance with Black men; unfortunately, instead it is oftentimes misread as a threat to Black men. According to Daniel Patrick Moynihan (1965) in The Negro Family: The Case for National Action, he declared that the reason for the "demise" of the Black community (according to white standards) were Black female headed households. Moynihan's report gained national attention to the Black and white communities; academic, mainstream, and political. Instead of fighting for equality, a term that means something very different for white feminist and feminist of color, many Black power movements focused their attention of recreating Black men as people of power, this usually meant power over Black women. Elaine Brown, former chair person of the Black Panther Party for Self Defense (BPP) came to speak at the University of Illinois in 2006 and explained how several meeting of the BPP dedicated its agenda to discussing issues such as, how many steps behind the men the female members should walk. Brown also expressed, in No! The Rape Documentary, how when she became chairperson she had to enforce a new rule that stated that the men in the BPP could no longer call women bitches. Eldridge Cleaver, another member of the BPP, equated women's power in the organization to their anatomy, claiming that they had "pussy power." These facts are not to say that organizations such as the BPP were simply spheres of gender oppression. The very fact that Elaine Brown was chair person shows that while these organizations could be very sexist and misguided, they were also a space for social change.

    The backlash of Black women having to step up and be strong, serving as mules, but lifting as they climbed, is beautiful. No one can argue that. However, I had a friend say to me that he usually doesn't date Black women from America. He dates "foreign" women because "Black women are fucked up because of all their baggage." My friend added that "Black men are also fucked up," but I guess he wasn't as concerned with that since he doesn't date men. I am not throwing him under the bus because there is some truth to what he is saying, Black women do have baggage. Erykah Badu wasn't lying when she made the song "Bag Lady."





In fact, I oftentimes think she made that song specifically for me and I am still trying to lighten my load. But the fact of the matter is, sentiments such as my friend's, to abandon Black women romantically and/or socially because of the oppressions we went through and continue to bravely face, much of the time because we were trying to support and defend Black men, is straight up bullshit. Is it inevitable that "when they see us coming, niggas take off running…one day he gon say, you crowdin my space?" (Badu 2000). Black women must suffer in silence because when we complain about legitimate issues it is characterized and stigmatized as baggage? When did Black men and Black women become enemies, when we would make perfect allies? Instead of comparing our oppressions to decided which single oppression to combat, we need to work together and realize that our "oppressions intersect, but are not interchangeable" (Phil Williams, 2010). 
     
     If we want to start ranking oppression then Black men need to realize that it actually does them a disservice. Black women are victimized by multiple oppressions based on race, class, gender, and sexuality, so if we are going by numbers, we trump black men so maybe Black men should shut up and listen to us for once. I don't believe in that though. I am often criticized for my lack of competitiveness; but I remain in favor of building alliances and communion. Until Black men stop over compensating for their oppressions and realize Black women are multiply-oppressed by institutional power and sexism in both Black, white, and other communities, and are not the enemies, Black women cannot productively love Black men. Notice, I said "productively love". Until this happens, Black men will continue to love Black women the way Amerikkka loves them, and I just ain't havin that.

Next Blog: Why Black Women Can't Love Black Men

Coming soon... Be ready.

Today was a good day, well kinda

     Today's post is, in part, a commentary and critique of big credit card companies. This morning, when I went outside to take the dogs out, wait let me backtrack first. The person who I care about deeply left last night and I won't see him for three months. Needless to say, I am crushed. However, I am staying strong and keeping busy.  My guy called this morning around eight thirty to tell me a hilarious story. I was happy to hear it but he woke me up and I couldn't get to sleep until five am that morning (gotta love insomnia mixed with exhaustion, sounds like a contradiction but it really isn't).  I stayed awake to talk then passed out until about one thirty in the afternoon.

     So when I initially said this morning, this afternoon would be a more accurate portrayal.  Moving on...this afternoon, when I went outside to take the dogs out and checked the mail, I saw two envelops.  They didn't appear to be bills, so I opened them unconcerned.  One was the normal statement from my car insurance company, check. The second envelop was from my credit card company. Brief context: This is a credit card I am actively paying off.  I have never had a late payment and before that point, never went over the limit.  About a month or so ago someone hacked into my checking account and wiped it clean.  While the bank processed the paperwork to fix the problem I had to continue living so I used a credit card for everyday expenses. I have two credit cards from the same company and they both look they same. I accidentally used the wrong card for my transactions during this time.

     This letter was the credit card company informing me that because I went over the limit ONE time, they were raising my interest drastically. I thought OBAMA helped the po folk, but according to the arrogant telephone representative, the only thing Obama changed, I am not saying improved intentionally, is that now the credit card company has to inform you before they screw you over... GEE THANKS FOR THE NOTICE EVEN THOUGH I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!  Like Huey Freeman says, what do you think about Obama? Ehhh... I am sure I am going to get some slack for that one.

     Don't worry about me though, I almost let that ruin my day, but like the title of this post says, today was a good day.  I didn't experience extreme pain today.  I ran my errands.  I went onto one of my three jobs to do some paperwork.  I went to the fellowship office to sign the document so I continue to get my money.  I had a wonderful lunch with friends before they leave to go off and be grown ups.  I went to my department and signed up for a summer reading course to supplement my summer research in NOLA.  I ordered the part to get my car fixed.  I went to the grocery store and spent less than I thought I would.  All in all, that's not too shabby.
    Today also marks the fifth day of vegetarianism.  I made a delicious brown rice, vegetable stir fry.

  It was absolutely wonderful.  I am really not missing meat. I think I can do this.  Loc Update: Loc consultation is tomorrow, if I like it, I hope we can schedule an appointment the next day.  Well back to grading papers.  A Bientot.

Contemplation

       Since finding out about my Fibro my dad has called every hour on the hour with the same question, "How are you feeling?"  My response, "Ehh."  His reply, "Did you take your medicine?" If my answer is no he grills me on why I am not for about three point two minutes.  If my answer is yes he goes off on this rampage on well maybe you need a second opinion.  My doctor is great; you should go see him.... blah blah blah.  My thoughts while he is talking to himself, "Your doctor is in Joliet, I am not going to drive two hours to go to the doctor." "Your doctor isn't even a rheumatologist." and "Why the hell do you keep trying to pan your doctor off on me? LEAVE ME ALONE YOU ARE STRESSING ME OUT MORE!"  If I don't answer the phone he calls nonstop about eight times, then calls my mother to see why I am not answering.  This is just too much. He was like this before knowing, but now it is unbearable. Can I have a moment of peace for contemplation?  To be continued...

I am sure this post is gonna earn me the label of hater, but it's not that, really

     Today my meds knocked me out t and I slept the day away. I missed my students' graduations and feel horrible about that.  Through the fog I am irritated and critical about several things.  One of the things that constantly urks me is the fact that I place higher standard on my own people, and unfortunately, they rarely live up to them.  One of the people living down to society's expectations is Beyonce. As the title says, this will probably earn me the label as hater, but I don't care. I used to love the Beyonce song, Why Don't You Love Me?, until I saw the video.




    Some of my qualms with it are obvious. For one, why is it so hard for performers, I am intentionally not calling her an artist, to accept that as public figures they are inherently role models and to perform and behave as such? It isn't hard, just think about people other than yourself and stop letting money motivate your actions. I assume one of the core fans bases of Beyonce's are young girls. In the video she is scantily clad, which is not a surprise but I felt I should add it to the list, reproducing gender norms, choosing to portray herself as a real life blow up doll with her pin up poses and empty stares, and smoking.
     I understand that the video is supposedly based in the fifties, but you only played Etta James in a movie, the cameras have been off for a while now. Don't get me wrong, I am all for equal rights. You want to walk around butt naked, go ahead, but don't do it under the guise of being a role model. In an interview, an interviewer asked Beyonce who her father is and she responded, "Jesus." Really Beyonce? Don't confuse this with a religiously zeolous rant, it isn't. It is a rant against hypocracy. If the "good Christian, southern woman" is the role you want to play, play it! But don't continue straddling the fence.
     I also don't understand why recent Beyonce videos have nothing to do with what the song is about. Simply listening to the song, it seems like an act of vindication. "Why don't you love me?" Is a hypothetical question. She doesn't want a response, she is proving that the man is an idiot for not wanting her and all her positive attributes. It is not her crying on the phone trying to get the man back.  The song is a giant f*ck you, you are plain dumb, I am too good for this. The video, with her on her hands and knees scrubbing, crying, throwing things, smoking to calm her nerves, is a pathetic plea for the man to come back. And who the hell cleans the house in that sort of get up? I don't understand the world. Erykah Badu gets a fine for this video:



Badu's video has a point, moral, and a theme and she is literally punished for this. However, Beyonce can put out any ole thang. So as for your question Beyonce, Why don't we love you, because it doesn't seem like you love yourself.

Upper, Back thighs and Lower Back

     Sitting here with my Barbie Pink laptop for breast cancer. I envy Barbie, not of her looks or her weight or anything superficial like that. I am envious of Barbie because she is plastic and pain free.  Although I am sitting in bed the way my mom said would cause the least pain and discomfort, I still hurt like hell with pain in my thighs and back. I cross one leg over the other at the ankle to relieve some stress. It helps for ten seconds, then the pain jumps to my other leg.  How shifty you are pain, what a trickster.  My two dogs, Assata and Sasha, are so understanding. I sometimes wonder if they were once people and that is why they understand why the walks continue to get shorter and shorter and why mommy rarely gets out of bed anymore.


     About a week ago Dr. Mc____________ diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia. I knew a little about it from the Lyrica commercials. The little bit I did know, I mainly knew there was no cure. This is permanent.  The National Fibromyalgia Association webpage defines it as such:

Fibromyalgia (pronounced fy-bro-my-AL-ja) is a common and complex chronic pain disorder that affects people physically, mentally and socially. Fibromyalgia is a syndrome rather than a disease. Unlike a disease, which is a medical condition with a specific cause or causes and recognizable signs and symptoms, a syndrome is a collection of signs, symptoms, and medical problems that tend to occur together but are not related to a specific, identifiable cause.

Fibromyalgia, which has also been referred to as fibromyalgia syndrome, fibromyositis andfibrositis, is characterized by chronic widespread pain, multiple tender points, abnormal pain processing, sleep disturbances, fatigue and often psychological distress. For those with severe symptoms, fibromyalgia can be extremely debilitating and interfere with basic daily activities.

What this means for me, other than waking up most days feeling like I was hit by a bus the night before; Memory loss a.k.a Fibro fog.  Great, that is what I need.  A Black woman in a discipline dominated by whiteness, in more ways than one, a discipline where I have to work twice as hard, no screw that, three times as hard, for people to think I barely got in to the program. Now I can't remember my next thought when writing a paper. Really looking forward to writing that dissertation.  Loss of coordination, so the everyday pain can be accompanied by the bump, bruises, and scraps from falling, tripping, and running into things.  Depression, insomnia, exhaustion, and less muscle recovery.  What I heard; your life is gonna be miserable, if it's not one thing it's something else. As if simply working on a PhD didn't cause these symptoms already.  Did I mention, the drugs really don't help anything but make me useless, dizzy, have blurred vision and keep me from being able to drink my glass of wine.  

     I could easily be defeated, feel like, what's the use... But I refuse. Stepping outside of myself and reading this blog I am sure I sound pathetic and I am OK with that. I don't mind venting, just as long as I use that rage in a productive matter.  My medical history has always been sketchy and although I am used to it as much as you can be used to it, I am not desensitized.  

     Dr. Mc_________ told me that treating Fibro is 90% lifestyle change and 10% drugs.  I decided to become a vegetarian about three days ago and to stay away from gluten.  Today I ate yogurt and organic granola for breakfast, and rice and vegetables for lunch.  I am also going to start belly dancing again, I cannot do high impact workouts but I can do low impact, rhythmic workouts.  I want to take control of my life, live a healthier lifestyle, and defeat this. I want to go a day without crying and feeling like I am losing my mind, losing my life, and losing everything I hold dear.  I need support. Carle clinic hold a Fibro support group every third Wednesday, I am going next Wednesday and I hope it helps to listen to people who have dealt with this. 

     This lifestyle change parallels my loc journey.  For months I wanted to loc my hair but have been too scared. Too scared of people judging me, too scared of not being what people expect me to be, and too scared of commitment.
Me before locs:   
I will put after pics up after my first appointment and subsequently thereafter. 
At this point I don't care about any of that, just my well being because I am the only one who is going to keep  me healthy and sane. I need to stay healthy mentally, physically, and emotionally. I see locs as a way to reach internal peace.
     Twenty days from today I will be on a road trip to New Orleans for the summer with a new attitude, healthier lifestyle, and an undefeated attitude. Giving myself deadlines keeps me on track. I may constantly and consistently be in pain, but that is not the end of me and I am not going to let this penetrate my soul, something I am still trying to regain.