What in the (yep, I’m going to say it) hell is wrong with our children today? Stupid is not a word that I like to use, but most of these kids are growing up “stupid.” As much as I try to remind myself that different times bring different ideas some things are down right stupid. My daughter Shay came running to me telling me that she & Breyona saw Bree’s old dance group in a video; she was all excited trying to show me the dance that, once I saw it I knew that it must have originated with something or someone foolish. “Stanky Leg” Come on now…! Somebody must have been sitting around partaking of some illegal substance and came up with this. For this “stupid” is the word that I will use. What in the (nope, I won’t say it again) is a stanky leg? I asked my children and they couldn’t give me an answer, so my question to them was, “What is it about that dance that makes sense to you?” “Well mommy, I just like doing it,” was their response. “Mommy, Breyona was killin’ it,” Shay said. My first thought was to YouTube the video to see Bree and her friend Bria’s old dance mates; it took all that I could stand to sit there through that mess looking for the dancers from Phase II. This video showed me a bootleg version of a real dance from long ago; I’ll even go as far as give it a little bit of a one leg Elvis Pressley, but come on now….Ugghhhh! I can’t imagine somebody doing this in a club without looking like they are about to have a seizure or that they were shaking off a cat. If memory serves me correctly lately our children have been mimicking dances that really are just plain stupid – lean wit it rock it; pop, lock, and drop it; it’s going down (looks like you’re starting a motorcycle); soulja boy, lipstick, bird walk and now this – stanky leg.
Had I not had the pleasure of meeting a nice young man the other day I would be terribly worried about this next generation; mine included, especially when you don’t think that there’s something wrong with the name of a dance without a meaning. Come on now…. One evening my children and I were leaving Kroger when I saw him walking to their car with his mother. I couldn’t help but notice the back of his bomber jacket, which he wore proudly; it simply said Ron Clark Academy. As I stopped his mother my first question to her was, “How do you like the school?” She beamed and that was more than enough; she didn’t need to explain. I mentioned that it was my desire to enroll Bree in RCA but it wasn’t open when she transitioned from fourth to fifth grade. Ron Clark is the kind of school that is best started in the 5th because each grade level progresses from the last. The mom said that the school interviewed both she and her son separately and it was then that he chimed in. My attention had been on the mom but as I looked down I saw great possibilities. Here I was looking into the eyes of a young man, a 6th grader that looked better than some of the adult men that I’d been around all day. He had a very nice haircut, uniform slacks, shirt and a tie. He was your typical kid but you could tell that he was a young man with manners, with purpose, with a future. He looked distinguished and it was at that moment that I felt that there was hope for tomorrow. When I mentioned that my children were enrolled at KIPP S. Fulton Academy the mother nodded that she’d heard good things about KIPP; we both silently agreed that we had something in common – our children’s education. The curriculum at both schools are very structured and demanding, but I must admit that RCA is a just a step above KIPP. On the doors as you enter RCA it is written, “Don’t go where the path may lead: go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”–Emerson. Field trips are not just for fun but they are a learning experience. If they attend a Broadway or theatre show the children must first read the story, learn the songs, and research the architecture of the theater. Before visiting NYC they first had to learn the name of every bird and tree. Even bowling is a lesson in fractions. Ron Clark believes that children must have a connection to something before they will appreciate it. What a wonderful concept! Ron Clark Academy was not a guest at the Inauguration because they wanted to give minority students a field trip. These kids wrote a song that captured the world’s attention; their first being about voting and the second was about Obama. Mr. Clark did not receive a $300,000 check from Oprah Winfrey because she liked the video on YouTube; she sees a school with purpose. These children will be the ones that will go where there is no path and leave a trail. When I see the best and brightest at my girls’ school I know that there is hope for tomorrow. When I see those at KIPP that started out on a rocky road somehow find the determination to smooth out as they grow older, I know that there is hope. “Stanky leg,” yeah the kids at RCA may be doing the dance, but thanks to the young man in the bomber jacket I believe that there is hope for tomorrow. NSBIG
~Stay Prayed Up. CLICK ON THE LINK
Friday, February 20, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
HONORING BLACK HISTORY
I can’t believe that this month is half gone and I haven’t been bombarded with Black History emails. You know the ones that talks about all that we've invented, etc. Is it because we have an African American president that Black History has now become hush, hush? Don’t get me wrong I do get tired of seeing the same old emails every year; however the other side of me is honored that “my people” did this or did that. It scares me that Black History may become the flip side of Christmas – you know it’s there but we don’t openly celebrate it for fear of insulting someone. Could it be that it will be expected that we put Black History on the shelf because we now have President Obama in the White House?
During Black History month last year I was one of four, out of thousands, that entered the Tom Joyner Morning Show Black History contest. The topic was something about what does Black History mean to me so I sent in one of my articles, “Mammy,” it was selected and I won. I was so excited to have been chosen; even though I missed hearing my name announced on the radio. Winning this was confirmation that my writings are truly a gift because I know that thousands of people listen to the TJMS & could have won. I’d completely forgotten that I entered until my friend Deirdre called me asking if I’d entered a contest on the TJMS because she didn’t know I had.
As I thought of something to write for Black History 2009 this year is a little different; that’s why I’m not bothered by the lack of commercials, school projects, emails, etc. This year as I think about Black History I’m not thinking about all of my fore-mothers and fathers, the great achievers that made things possible for us today. I’m not thinking about the many ancestors that are looking down at our new president with smiles on their faces and pats of we finally did it on their backs. My focus this year is honoring Black history. When I think about the people that made it possible for me to live a richer, fuller, better life I think of my ancestors. I think of my grandfather that used to drive the cab of his truck down my street and blow the horn for me and my friends. We were like Nettie & Celie running after the train in The Color Purple. I think about how he would let me put hair grease (and hair grease back then was no joke) and sponge rollers in his hair. My grandfather had the prettiest and curliest grade of hair that a few of his children and grandchildren were blessed to get. I’ll never forget my grandmother fussing at him for greasing up her sofa as he nodded off a little tipsy with a head full of grease and rollers. Loving him taught me the value of a hug. History... My grandmother, wow, I've learned so much from my grandmother. She exposed me to life that people fought and die for. I didn’t realize it then but as I look back there was a purpose to her plan. My grandmother was a classy lady always looking and dressing the part, with a kind spirit for an attitude. She cleaned houses for a living but she had more class in her little finger than the people whose houses she cleaned. She taught me a lot about myself and I learned a lot just by watching her. And even though she cleaned houses for her money two things were for certain – she had a credit score of 800+ and she shopped at only the finest of stores for her clothing. Loving her taught me that money doesn’t buy class and that we are nothing without God’s grace. History… My uncle Billy, the prodigal son. When life became good for him he distanced himself from the family, probably afraid that someone would want something from him; years later I moved away. It wasn’t until I returned home and saw how my grandmother lit up when he came around that my heart softened. We became really close as the years went on. Loving him taught me how to forgive. History… My aunt became my confidant, my counselor, my mom after my mother died. It was when she visited me in Fort Hood that I realized how much we had in common; from that we grew closer with each phone call. From her I learned that jewelry makes the woman and that diamonds speak for themselves. Because losing her last March is still fresh for me I must move on. Loving her taught me how to be a strong, beautiful, confident black woman. History… My second uncle Willie Alvin – he and my mother were two peas in a pod but they cursed each other out every time they were around each other for too long. He’d storm out of the house with his famous, “I’ll never need you” or my favorite, “You’re my color but you’re not my kind.” Did I ever tell him that I learned how to crack an egg with the shell mostly intact from him? I was special to him but he wouldn’t admit it; Cassandra was the name that he would have given his daughter, which turned out to be a son so when I came later it was given to me. Loving him taught me not to worry what the world thinks of me. History… My mom comes next. What can I say…? She loved me unconditionally and my heart is still broken. Loving her taught me that you can’t take people and life for granted. History… My uncle Larry, the baby boy. I can’t listen to the Commodore’s song, Zoom, without thinking of him. As kids we had so much fun – he tortured my cousin and me and made us laugh like hyenas, especially when my great-grandmother yelled, “hush all that noise.” My cousin usually got a whipping because he didn’t know how to stop laughing especially when Larry made a face when we were supposed to be quiet. He was 8 years older than I, but I remember that you never saw him in wrinkled clothes or without a woman and you NEVER saw him in a dirty car. He used to spend hours washing his car; the windows were so clean that you thought they were rolled down. Larry taught me that you have to take your time if you want to look good. Loving him taught me how to laugh. History…
When I think back to all of the years that I celebrated the history of my people; Sojourner Truth; Harriet Tubman; W.E.B. Dubois; Martin; Malcolm; I never stopped to think of where my true history comes from. Now that they are all gone Home to Glory I often sit back and wish I had those days back. I wish that I could turn back the hands of time so that I can tell them all what loving them means to me. I wish that I could tell them how they each have made a great impact and a difference in my life. I wish that I could tell them how much I’ve learned from them; how their good made me great and how their mistakes made me better. I wish that I could tell them that I realize that without them, there is no me. NSBIG
~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK
During Black History month last year I was one of four, out of thousands, that entered the Tom Joyner Morning Show Black History contest. The topic was something about what does Black History mean to me so I sent in one of my articles, “Mammy,” it was selected and I won. I was so excited to have been chosen; even though I missed hearing my name announced on the radio. Winning this was confirmation that my writings are truly a gift because I know that thousands of people listen to the TJMS & could have won. I’d completely forgotten that I entered until my friend Deirdre called me asking if I’d entered a contest on the TJMS because she didn’t know I had.
As I thought of something to write for Black History 2009 this year is a little different; that’s why I’m not bothered by the lack of commercials, school projects, emails, etc. This year as I think about Black History I’m not thinking about all of my fore-mothers and fathers, the great achievers that made things possible for us today. I’m not thinking about the many ancestors that are looking down at our new president with smiles on their faces and pats of we finally did it on their backs. My focus this year is honoring Black history. When I think about the people that made it possible for me to live a richer, fuller, better life I think of my ancestors. I think of my grandfather that used to drive the cab of his truck down my street and blow the horn for me and my friends. We were like Nettie & Celie running after the train in The Color Purple. I think about how he would let me put hair grease (and hair grease back then was no joke) and sponge rollers in his hair. My grandfather had the prettiest and curliest grade of hair that a few of his children and grandchildren were blessed to get. I’ll never forget my grandmother fussing at him for greasing up her sofa as he nodded off a little tipsy with a head full of grease and rollers. Loving him taught me the value of a hug. History... My grandmother, wow, I've learned so much from my grandmother. She exposed me to life that people fought and die for. I didn’t realize it then but as I look back there was a purpose to her plan. My grandmother was a classy lady always looking and dressing the part, with a kind spirit for an attitude. She cleaned houses for a living but she had more class in her little finger than the people whose houses she cleaned. She taught me a lot about myself and I learned a lot just by watching her. And even though she cleaned houses for her money two things were for certain – she had a credit score of 800+ and she shopped at only the finest of stores for her clothing. Loving her taught me that money doesn’t buy class and that we are nothing without God’s grace. History… My uncle Billy, the prodigal son. When life became good for him he distanced himself from the family, probably afraid that someone would want something from him; years later I moved away. It wasn’t until I returned home and saw how my grandmother lit up when he came around that my heart softened. We became really close as the years went on. Loving him taught me how to forgive. History… My aunt became my confidant, my counselor, my mom after my mother died. It was when she visited me in Fort Hood that I realized how much we had in common; from that we grew closer with each phone call. From her I learned that jewelry makes the woman and that diamonds speak for themselves. Because losing her last March is still fresh for me I must move on. Loving her taught me how to be a strong, beautiful, confident black woman. History… My second uncle Willie Alvin – he and my mother were two peas in a pod but they cursed each other out every time they were around each other for too long. He’d storm out of the house with his famous, “I’ll never need you” or my favorite, “You’re my color but you’re not my kind.” Did I ever tell him that I learned how to crack an egg with the shell mostly intact from him? I was special to him but he wouldn’t admit it; Cassandra was the name that he would have given his daughter, which turned out to be a son so when I came later it was given to me. Loving him taught me not to worry what the world thinks of me. History… My mom comes next. What can I say…? She loved me unconditionally and my heart is still broken. Loving her taught me that you can’t take people and life for granted. History… My uncle Larry, the baby boy. I can’t listen to the Commodore’s song, Zoom, without thinking of him. As kids we had so much fun – he tortured my cousin and me and made us laugh like hyenas, especially when my great-grandmother yelled, “hush all that noise.” My cousin usually got a whipping because he didn’t know how to stop laughing especially when Larry made a face when we were supposed to be quiet. He was 8 years older than I, but I remember that you never saw him in wrinkled clothes or without a woman and you NEVER saw him in a dirty car. He used to spend hours washing his car; the windows were so clean that you thought they were rolled down. Larry taught me that you have to take your time if you want to look good. Loving him taught me how to laugh. History…
When I think back to all of the years that I celebrated the history of my people; Sojourner Truth; Harriet Tubman; W.E.B. Dubois; Martin; Malcolm; I never stopped to think of where my true history comes from. Now that they are all gone Home to Glory I often sit back and wish I had those days back. I wish that I could turn back the hands of time so that I can tell them all what loving them means to me. I wish that I could tell them how they each have made a great impact and a difference in my life. I wish that I could tell them how much I’ve learned from them; how their good made me great and how their mistakes made me better. I wish that I could tell them that I realize that without them, there is no me. NSBIG
~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK
Friday, February 13, 2009
I LOVE YOU!
“I Love You,” three little words that mean so much. I love you… the young say them loosely, the seasoned don’t use them enough.
In my younger days saying “I love you” wasn’t so hard, it just rolled off my tongue. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Never did I think that what or whom I thought I truly loved was probably not love at all, it was more like infatuation. Yep, infatuation – pure and simple.
As I matured the use of those three words didn’t roll off my tongue as quick, but sometimes I wish it had. It’s seldom that we say these words to people that we really love or people that need to hear them, we just assume that they “know” how we feel. We assume that our actions are enough, “who needs to say it when I can show it,” is our perception. Remember the saying, “I can show you better than I can tell you?” well that’s the attitude that most of us take about saying those three little words. Case in point, unbeknownst to me my husband takes my truck to be serviced while I’m still asleep. On the flip side I’m out shopping, see something that I think he would like and buy it for him just because. Can’t you feel the love? Since it’s been 20 years we just automatically know, whether we say it or not, that love is in the heart. As I write this article I must admit that I should spend more time saying it, instead of assuming that he knows it. With our daughters the story is a little different. I find myself saying, “I love you” probably about 5-10 times a day, but there’s a reason for that, a lesson learned a long time ago.
I will never forget moving away from home after I married, it was during the time that Stevie Wonder’s song I Just Called to Say I Love You came out. Here I was in another country crying my eyes out, homesick, and running up a very expensive phone bill calling my mom to say, “I just called to say I love you.” As the years went by and we moved from here to there this became a routine, saying, “I love you” to my family as we ended our phone conversations. At first this was something new to all of us because we were still in the assumption mode, but after moving away I began to realize how much I loved and missed them and I wanted to tell them so. During out second tour to Germany I received a phone call around 1:00 a.m. on December 23, 1989 from my mother. Apparently the whole gang had gotten together at my grandmother’s and they decided to give me a call. Even though I was still groggy and partially asleep I was glad to hear from everyone. I remember how we laughed, talked about what their holiday plans were, that my brothers didn’t wait until Christmas to open the big box that I had mailed from overseas, and the fact that I would be enjoying snow for Christmas. I remember saying, as we were about to hang up the phone, that I would call her on New Year’s day and my grandmother on Christmas. “Since we’ve called you don’t bother spending all that money calling us on Christmas, just wait until New Years,” she said. On December 30, 1989 I received a phone call about 7:30 a.m. with the news that my mother had died. Through the maze and the fog one thing that has stuck in the back of my mind, even to this day was did I say “I love you” before we hung up the phone? I’m thankful that it doesn’t haunt me, but it is a nagging feeling. So what I learned from this experience was not to let a day go by without telling my daughters how much I love them because I don’t want it to ever be a doubt in their minds. Not a doubt about whether I love them, but a doubt about whether we said it that day.
Valentine's Day has been the day when we usually take the time to show others how we feel. This Valentine's Day wouldn’t it be more special if we just used this time to simply say, “I love you” to our spouses, our children, our family, and friends. Why don’t you make a phone call today and say, “I just called to say I love you.” Not only is it cheaper, but it’s more meaningful and everlasting. NSBIG
~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK
In my younger days saying “I love you” wasn’t so hard, it just rolled off my tongue. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Never did I think that what or whom I thought I truly loved was probably not love at all, it was more like infatuation. Yep, infatuation – pure and simple.
As I matured the use of those three words didn’t roll off my tongue as quick, but sometimes I wish it had. It’s seldom that we say these words to people that we really love or people that need to hear them, we just assume that they “know” how we feel. We assume that our actions are enough, “who needs to say it when I can show it,” is our perception. Remember the saying, “I can show you better than I can tell you?” well that’s the attitude that most of us take about saying those three little words. Case in point, unbeknownst to me my husband takes my truck to be serviced while I’m still asleep. On the flip side I’m out shopping, see something that I think he would like and buy it for him just because. Can’t you feel the love? Since it’s been 20 years we just automatically know, whether we say it or not, that love is in the heart. As I write this article I must admit that I should spend more time saying it, instead of assuming that he knows it. With our daughters the story is a little different. I find myself saying, “I love you” probably about 5-10 times a day, but there’s a reason for that, a lesson learned a long time ago.
I will never forget moving away from home after I married, it was during the time that Stevie Wonder’s song I Just Called to Say I Love You came out. Here I was in another country crying my eyes out, homesick, and running up a very expensive phone bill calling my mom to say, “I just called to say I love you.” As the years went by and we moved from here to there this became a routine, saying, “I love you” to my family as we ended our phone conversations. At first this was something new to all of us because we were still in the assumption mode, but after moving away I began to realize how much I loved and missed them and I wanted to tell them so. During out second tour to Germany I received a phone call around 1:00 a.m. on December 23, 1989 from my mother. Apparently the whole gang had gotten together at my grandmother’s and they decided to give me a call. Even though I was still groggy and partially asleep I was glad to hear from everyone. I remember how we laughed, talked about what their holiday plans were, that my brothers didn’t wait until Christmas to open the big box that I had mailed from overseas, and the fact that I would be enjoying snow for Christmas. I remember saying, as we were about to hang up the phone, that I would call her on New Year’s day and my grandmother on Christmas. “Since we’ve called you don’t bother spending all that money calling us on Christmas, just wait until New Years,” she said. On December 30, 1989 I received a phone call about 7:30 a.m. with the news that my mother had died. Through the maze and the fog one thing that has stuck in the back of my mind, even to this day was did I say “I love you” before we hung up the phone? I’m thankful that it doesn’t haunt me, but it is a nagging feeling. So what I learned from this experience was not to let a day go by without telling my daughters how much I love them because I don’t want it to ever be a doubt in their minds. Not a doubt about whether I love them, but a doubt about whether we said it that day.
Valentine's Day has been the day when we usually take the time to show others how we feel. This Valentine's Day wouldn’t it be more special if we just used this time to simply say, “I love you” to our spouses, our children, our family, and friends. Why don’t you make a phone call today and say, “I just called to say I love you.” Not only is it cheaper, but it’s more meaningful and everlasting. NSBIG
~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK
Monday, February 9, 2009
GOD PULLED ME THROUGH
Isn’t it amazing how God puts just what you need, where you need it, even before you need it? No matter how much I learn about Him; no matter how much He’s shown me personally; no matter how much manifests itself before my very own eyes, God is AMAZING!!! He knows the trials and the devastations that are before us and He sets a cushion for us to gently fall back on; the cushion being His loving arms. As a student of His I’ve learned that some of us realizes the cushion as it happens, others see it later but it’s always there; God’s infinite wisdom & cushion.
As I listened to Jennifer Hudson sing “You Pulled Me Through” last night on the Grammy’s I thought it was a new song. It was only until this morning that I heard on the radio that this was a song from her album, which I had a copy of. Sure enough it was there and all I could say was God – only YOU knew what she would need even before she needed it. If memory serves me correct the Hudson tragedy happened in October & the album was released latter part of September so it’s safe to say, “Nobody but God.” I can’t say Jennifer relied on the words of this song to bring her peace during this time or that she was even singing about God when she first recorded it, but He has a way of being there for us through the smallest of things. He has a way of letting what one thing mean to us be about something that will bring us closer to Him. So last night as I heard her sing this song I immediately associated it with God because only He has the strength to pull her through all that she’s gone through these last few months. As we journey along our way Only God has the strength to pull us through all that we have or will go through. He knows the plans He has for us and He knows just what we need to help us understand or to put peace in our spirit when our day comes. Short story ~ While stationed in Germany I turned down a job at Red Cross because I was “satisfied” with my present job. A few months later I wasn’t so satisfied and out of the blue, the exact same day, I saw the Station Manager and I asked if he had filled the position; he hadn’t. I think being from Georgia helped seal the deal and I got the job. What I thought would be simple administrative work turned into becoming a consoler, a comforter for those that learned many miles away that they’d lost a loved one. It was hard most days seeing the pain in the eyes of a soldier or spouse that just lost a mother, father, or sibling, etc. It was even harder seeing their pain & confusion when they learned that unless your grandparents raised you for at least five (5) years the Army wouldn’t pay for you to return home. I became a consoler & comforter….ONLY GOD knew that months later I would be one of them. I would be miles away when I learned of the death of my mother. God gave me that job to prepare me. Though the lesson was hard God gives you just what you need even before you know you need it. He’s just that amazing! NSBIG
I was in the darkness
I was out in the cold
Seemed nothing could heal this
This hole in my soul
You reached out your arms to me
Held out your heart to me
Pulled me back from the edge
Thought I reached the end
When I was drowning
When I was so confused
You, You, You pulled me through
I was in the shadows
Lost, nothing left to lose
You, You, You pulled me through
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
As I listened to Jennifer Hudson sing “You Pulled Me Through” last night on the Grammy’s I thought it was a new song. It was only until this morning that I heard on the radio that this was a song from her album, which I had a copy of. Sure enough it was there and all I could say was God – only YOU knew what she would need even before she needed it. If memory serves me correct the Hudson tragedy happened in October & the album was released latter part of September so it’s safe to say, “Nobody but God.” I can’t say Jennifer relied on the words of this song to bring her peace during this time or that she was even singing about God when she first recorded it, but He has a way of being there for us through the smallest of things. He has a way of letting what one thing mean to us be about something that will bring us closer to Him. So last night as I heard her sing this song I immediately associated it with God because only He has the strength to pull her through all that she’s gone through these last few months. As we journey along our way Only God has the strength to pull us through all that we have or will go through. He knows the plans He has for us and He knows just what we need to help us understand or to put peace in our spirit when our day comes. Short story ~ While stationed in Germany I turned down a job at Red Cross because I was “satisfied” with my present job. A few months later I wasn’t so satisfied and out of the blue, the exact same day, I saw the Station Manager and I asked if he had filled the position; he hadn’t. I think being from Georgia helped seal the deal and I got the job. What I thought would be simple administrative work turned into becoming a consoler, a comforter for those that learned many miles away that they’d lost a loved one. It was hard most days seeing the pain in the eyes of a soldier or spouse that just lost a mother, father, or sibling, etc. It was even harder seeing their pain & confusion when they learned that unless your grandparents raised you for at least five (5) years the Army wouldn’t pay for you to return home. I became a consoler & comforter….ONLY GOD knew that months later I would be one of them. I would be miles away when I learned of the death of my mother. God gave me that job to prepare me. Though the lesson was hard God gives you just what you need even before you know you need it. He’s just that amazing! NSBIG
I was in the darkness
I was out in the cold
Seemed nothing could heal this
This hole in my soul
You reached out your arms to me
Held out your heart to me
Pulled me back from the edge
Thought I reached the end
When I was drowning
When I was so confused
You, You, You pulled me through
I was in the shadows
Lost, nothing left to lose
You, You, You pulled me through
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
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