Every time I hear one of those good old-fashioned Christmas songs I am reminded of how simple life seemed back in the day. I remember being a child and listening to the songs as I slept on the bed, sofa, or chair while alternating for holiday gatherings between our house and the houses of family and friends. Between the sounds of cards slapping on the table from the Bid Whiz game came the soft echoes from the likes of Donny Hathaway, Otis Redding, The Supremes, Al Green, and more – these were the soothing sounds that made life seem so at ease. I wonder now if it was the peace of being a child or was life so much more simpler for us back then? When I listen to these songs now I am reminded that it seemed like no matter what they may have been going through with Civil Rights, recession, or everything that was thrown at them because of the color of their skin, all of it seemed to fade when you put on a wobbly 45 or album and take that penny or nickel to hold the needle down. Gosh, I wonder if that’s all it would take now – a good old 45 record, an album and a nickel; what have we got to lose - we’ve tried almost everything else. Maybe we just need to play those old songs all day, everyday, in hopes that it would remind us that back in the day even the worst of times melted like butter on a gas stove.
I can’t speak for your family but as for mine I remember when those “tipsy” relatives cried every time they heard The OJays, The Temptations, Otis Redding, or Sam Cooke? Were they crying because of the hand that life dealt or were they crying because they were tipsy, it probably was the latter? Now when I look back on it I remember that it was through them that we found joy; it was those tipsy, crying relatives that gave us a good old-fashioned belly laugh; one that we, as children, would have to sneak and have because back then a child stayed in a child’s place. Yeah, those were the days….I remember everybody jumping up from the card table and doing the “bop”(I think you’d have to be from Atlanta to know what the bop is). The bop – you take the hand of your partner and….well, it’s hard to explain. Men with women, women with women and usually somebody with a child; that’s how I learned to do the bop, I was the extra that always jumped up to dance with my mom. It’s funny but just this week I longed for the good old days of Christmas, one where the holiday was about Jesus and not about which house had the biggest and the best decorations or who spent the most. Christmas then was about parents having fun all night pretending to be Santa Claus and then staying awake to watch the excitement from their children. Christmas then was a time for family & friends; a time when people just dropped by and stayed a while without it being an inconvenience. It was a time when we laughed like crazy when my Aunt Bernice fell into the Christmas tree because she was “tipsy,” or when she would put on her nightgown backwards and the breast cups would be sticking out in the back; yes, when that happened the adults were okay when the children laughed too.
I’m sure you’re probably saying, “What is the message in all of this?” Well for me the message is this - when I look at my children I realize how much they’ve missed; I realize that their abundance has created their lack. I realized that life now has allowed them to grow up too fast and gone are the days when they could sit in the midst of adults but still maintain their childlike innocence. As I think about the good old days the message for me is a reminder that sometimes we have to go back before we can move forward. I sometimes find it rather soothing to use my imagination and pull out an old 45 that has been compressed into a CD and think back to the days when I was curled up on a chair or bed while the sounds of Donny Hathaway drifted into my sleep. 35+ years later when everything around me seems chaotic I have to remember that even in the stress of today's journey sometimes all I need to do is take a walk down memory lane back to a time when all it took for them was a song.TGBTG
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK a second helping - CLICK ON THE LINK
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
They're My Color but They're Not My Kind
I love my people, I honestly do. If I had a choice of the race that I wanted to be born in, it wouldn’t change. I love the diversity that we have in our complexions, hair, styles, swag, etc. I love me; who I am, who my family is and who they were. I love being blessed with strong women that not only taught me but showed me how to love myself. My people…My uncle used to have a saying that it took me years to understand. He would often say, “They’re my color, but they’re not my kind.” I would later learn firsthand what those words meant.
“They’re my color, but they’re not my kind.” I wish that I would have done research on this for my final college paper in hopes of understanding why we change. Did it start in the Motherland between the tribes? Did it start on the plantation between the house slaves and the field slaves? Did the house slaves treat the field slaves with inferiority? I don’t know when it started but I do know that personal experience has changed the way I feel about some things. I remember when I started working for a minority organization; I was so excited to finally be around my people because I’d always worked in corporate America. I remember telling one of my Caucasian sisters that I was sooo excited about finally working with “my people.” It wasn’t long before the light grew dim and I found a saying of my own, “In Corporate America I knew that I was Black, but here I feel like I’m Black.” Even though my department was predominately Black my supervisor for seven years was not, so life for me was pretty much what I was accustomed to, but the organization as a whole was definitely a culture shock. Unfortunately things changed and it was then that I began to understand exactly what my uncle was trying to teach me. I also learn that an old saying of mine was true as well – “Even a dog will smile at you before he attacks.” OK I'll wait until you catch up...Time's up - think about it...when a dog growls at you he's showing his teeth so what looks like a smile is really a set-up. Yes, it wasn’t long before I told myself that Corporate America really wasn’t so bad after all. House slaves vs Field slaves; why have we taken on this attitude of superiority and inferiority? Why have we made ourselves out to be better than our “brutha?” Why have we allowed a title, degree or status to define who we are or who we will become? Why have we allowed a position to be the shoes that we use to step on and over those that we used to work with as friends or thought we could respect as bosses? Recently I was sharing with my cousin that I’m being more selective of whom I would like to work for and with from now on. Unfortunately she understood because a few years ago she changed positions and found herself one of only two sistahs in the department; guess who gave her the most trouble? Confirmation - someone recently made a general statement - "My people of color. Why do you make our jobs so hard?" “They’re my color, but…” While out shopping on Black Friday I overheard a “supervisor” speak to her team in such a degrading tone that I said to myself surely she’s joking with them; her facial expression told me that she was not. “They’re not my kind.” Even at church I’ve chosen to sit up top with the crew that I work with even on the Sunday’s when I’m not working. The anointing is different up top and I don’t have to worry with those that are at church every Sunday shouting hallelujahs when the pastor is preaching & watching but turning their heads when church is over to avoid speaking.
I’m sure there’s a lesson in this for me because God allowed me to associate this with something He showed me years ago. Ironically this revelation came during The Lion King era when I worked in Corporate America. In Simba’s Pride, Kiara, Simba’s daughter, told him during the fight between the have & the have not’s that they should stop fighting because “we are one.” What Kiara was saying is the same thing that God has told us all along in Gen. 2:7 “God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living being.” You see the dust had no particular color – it had no race, culture or social status, degree or position. It was just plain dust from the ground and with dust you can’t tell one particle from another. We are still dust, no matter what we have achieved. We are one…(Rom. 14:1) “Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. One man’s faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does for God has accepted him.” WOW!! GOD has ACCEPTED him. Now when will we? TGBTG
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
“They’re my color, but they’re not my kind.” I wish that I would have done research on this for my final college paper in hopes of understanding why we change. Did it start in the Motherland between the tribes? Did it start on the plantation between the house slaves and the field slaves? Did the house slaves treat the field slaves with inferiority? I don’t know when it started but I do know that personal experience has changed the way I feel about some things. I remember when I started working for a minority organization; I was so excited to finally be around my people because I’d always worked in corporate America. I remember telling one of my Caucasian sisters that I was sooo excited about finally working with “my people.” It wasn’t long before the light grew dim and I found a saying of my own, “In Corporate America I knew that I was Black, but here I feel like I’m Black.” Even though my department was predominately Black my supervisor for seven years was not, so life for me was pretty much what I was accustomed to, but the organization as a whole was definitely a culture shock. Unfortunately things changed and it was then that I began to understand exactly what my uncle was trying to teach me. I also learn that an old saying of mine was true as well – “Even a dog will smile at you before he attacks.” OK I'll wait until you catch up...Time's up - think about it...when a dog growls at you he's showing his teeth so what looks like a smile is really a set-up. Yes, it wasn’t long before I told myself that Corporate America really wasn’t so bad after all. House slaves vs Field slaves; why have we taken on this attitude of superiority and inferiority? Why have we made ourselves out to be better than our “brutha?” Why have we allowed a title, degree or status to define who we are or who we will become? Why have we allowed a position to be the shoes that we use to step on and over those that we used to work with as friends or thought we could respect as bosses? Recently I was sharing with my cousin that I’m being more selective of whom I would like to work for and with from now on. Unfortunately she understood because a few years ago she changed positions and found herself one of only two sistahs in the department; guess who gave her the most trouble? Confirmation - someone recently made a general statement - "My people of color. Why do you make our jobs so hard?" “They’re my color, but…” While out shopping on Black Friday I overheard a “supervisor” speak to her team in such a degrading tone that I said to myself surely she’s joking with them; her facial expression told me that she was not. “They’re not my kind.” Even at church I’ve chosen to sit up top with the crew that I work with even on the Sunday’s when I’m not working. The anointing is different up top and I don’t have to worry with those that are at church every Sunday shouting hallelujahs when the pastor is preaching & watching but turning their heads when church is over to avoid speaking.
I’m sure there’s a lesson in this for me because God allowed me to associate this with something He showed me years ago. Ironically this revelation came during The Lion King era when I worked in Corporate America. In Simba’s Pride, Kiara, Simba’s daughter, told him during the fight between the have & the have not’s that they should stop fighting because “we are one.” What Kiara was saying is the same thing that God has told us all along in Gen. 2:7 “God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living being.” You see the dust had no particular color – it had no race, culture or social status, degree or position. It was just plain dust from the ground and with dust you can’t tell one particle from another. We are still dust, no matter what we have achieved. We are one…(Rom. 14:1) “Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. One man’s faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does for God has accepted him.” WOW!! GOD has ACCEPTED him. Now when will we? TGBTG
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
FROM Wii to WE
Many of you have heard of all the drama that I recently went through trying to find a simple pack of old-fashioned marbles for a Science project that my daughter Bree had to do. The project was to create a roller coaster with a loop and a hill and then make sure that the marble traveled through the entire coaster, loop, hill and all. After getting the materials I searched high and low, from store to store looking for the marbles that I used to play with when I was a little girl. Family Dollar – nope, Dollar Tree – nope, Walmart – nope, another Family Dollar, another Dollar Tree, CVS and Walgreen – I came up with a nope on all accounts. A simple pack of marbles. Everyone wanted to tell me that the “craft marbles” would serve the purpose, and yes, maybe they would but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted the colored marbles that came with a chunky and a cat eye. Had I become so obsessed with finding these marbles – maybe, but the revelation received will far surpass the obsession. I continued my search and ended up finding a pack at a store in the “hood” – thank God for the hood – that’s where you have to keep it real! Please don’t mistake the hood for the ghetto; there is a difference. The hood is where you don’t rush to remove life for “something better.” It’s where you go when you want to remember from where we came. The hood is where our people were able to be themselves. It’s where we can sit on the porch sipping sweet tea or something stronger, play spades, listen to “real” music and wave when friends or strangers passed by.
This experience of not being able to find the marbles that I used to play with taught me a valuable lesson; it taught me that we have become so far removed from things that were simple. We've been so busy "moving on up" like George Jefferson that we've forgotten to take with us the simple things in life. Gone are the days of playing marbles, jacks, hop scotch and jump rope. These were inexpensive games that required concentration; games that became the backbone of many life lessons learned. Marbles were like shoes, every child had their own. When you came with a challenge you’d better be ready to lose your stash. I remember I had a plastic tub full of marbles and for me to lose meant either you had to be good or I was having a bad day. The game taught you how to focus on your mark and it also taught you how to have a steady hand; hmmm what a wonderful, simple way for the makings of a good surgeon yet it was also an example of life because it taught you that there is a risk because your opponent is there to take everything. As for jacks – jacks taught us concentration, hand-eye coordination and how to count. It was a basic game of throwing a small ball in the air and picking up jacks from one to whatever number you were on and then catching the ball after one bounce. Later you added in creativity – throw the ball in the air, pick up the jacks, tap, and then catch the ball after one bounce. Gosh I was good at that game too. The value of jacks is to teach us that you have to keep your eye on the ball and that even though you sometimes find yourself juggling it doesn’t mean that your dreams can’t be caught. Hop scotch. I sometimes still see the markings of this game from time to time; it’s good to know that kids are still enjoying it and that it’s still around. The greatest lesson taught in this game was to focus on throwing the rock or object into a square, jump to it and pick it up all while balancing on one leg – this game taught children how to balance and how to stay within the square. Maybe if we spent more time playing this game we would be able to teach them the concepts needed to balance the many things they would go through in life. And finally there’s jump rope – really there’s no need to explain the value of jump rope; what child doesn’t need the exercise that comes with increasing your heart rate. Jump rope also brought out our creative side through twist jumping and double dutch. In jump rope we learn how to jump through the hoops thrown at us in this fast paced life that we’ve created for ourselves.
Simple games…valuable lessons…What I learned this week was that all of these games held great lessons that I believe contributed to what have helped elevate the intelligence of my generation. It was also this eye-opener that made me realize how important it is to take a step back into time and show my children what simple fun is like. This may be just what Shay needs to teach her how to focus in school and it may be what Bree needs to help her understand that the simple things in life are sometimes the most enjoyable. What I learned by searching from store to store is a lesson that we all need to learn; the lesson of spending time with each other. Wii is fun, but WE is better. It is WE that brings out the bond in a family; that’s my lesson. TGBTG
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
This experience of not being able to find the marbles that I used to play with taught me a valuable lesson; it taught me that we have become so far removed from things that were simple. We've been so busy "moving on up" like George Jefferson that we've forgotten to take with us the simple things in life. Gone are the days of playing marbles, jacks, hop scotch and jump rope. These were inexpensive games that required concentration; games that became the backbone of many life lessons learned. Marbles were like shoes, every child had their own. When you came with a challenge you’d better be ready to lose your stash. I remember I had a plastic tub full of marbles and for me to lose meant either you had to be good or I was having a bad day. The game taught you how to focus on your mark and it also taught you how to have a steady hand; hmmm what a wonderful, simple way for the makings of a good surgeon yet it was also an example of life because it taught you that there is a risk because your opponent is there to take everything. As for jacks – jacks taught us concentration, hand-eye coordination and how to count. It was a basic game of throwing a small ball in the air and picking up jacks from one to whatever number you were on and then catching the ball after one bounce. Later you added in creativity – throw the ball in the air, pick up the jacks, tap, and then catch the ball after one bounce. Gosh I was good at that game too. The value of jacks is to teach us that you have to keep your eye on the ball and that even though you sometimes find yourself juggling it doesn’t mean that your dreams can’t be caught. Hop scotch. I sometimes still see the markings of this game from time to time; it’s good to know that kids are still enjoying it and that it’s still around. The greatest lesson taught in this game was to focus on throwing the rock or object into a square, jump to it and pick it up all while balancing on one leg – this game taught children how to balance and how to stay within the square. Maybe if we spent more time playing this game we would be able to teach them the concepts needed to balance the many things they would go through in life. And finally there’s jump rope – really there’s no need to explain the value of jump rope; what child doesn’t need the exercise that comes with increasing your heart rate. Jump rope also brought out our creative side through twist jumping and double dutch. In jump rope we learn how to jump through the hoops thrown at us in this fast paced life that we’ve created for ourselves.
Simple games…valuable lessons…What I learned this week was that all of these games held great lessons that I believe contributed to what have helped elevate the intelligence of my generation. It was also this eye-opener that made me realize how important it is to take a step back into time and show my children what simple fun is like. This may be just what Shay needs to teach her how to focus in school and it may be what Bree needs to help her understand that the simple things in life are sometimes the most enjoyable. What I learned by searching from store to store is a lesson that we all need to learn; the lesson of spending time with each other. Wii is fun, but WE is better. It is WE that brings out the bond in a family; that’s my lesson. TGBTG
~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK
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