Waiting for My Spaceship to Come

"Tell Him" by Lauryn Hill

...now I may have faith to make mountains fall / but if I lack love then I am nothin' at all / i can give away everything I possess / but left without love then I have no happiness / i know I'm imperfect [I know I'm imperfect] / & not without sin [& not without sin] / but now that I'm older all childish things end...

I find forgiving people to be too difficult.  Even though I am aware that I make mistakes and I too look for forgiveness from people in my life, it is the hardest thing in the world for me to dispense from my spirit.

I believe in Forgiveness.  It is a good thing, a merciful thing, a freeing opportunity.

But I find it so hard.  My Mommy apologized for all that she has contributed to what we have endured in the last 3 years and I would like to say I forgive her, but I am not sure.  I still think about some of the things I had to go through because of how stubborn and unforgiving she was and I am angered, I cry, and I am frustrated as if I am still going through it.

I don't say anything to her about it and I don't sulk or become sullen around her at all, nor do I feel like sulking or being sullen around her.  But there are times, when I am away from her, when I am frustrated by a particular item in my life and I will say to myself "I wouldn't even have to deal with this if she hadn't...blah blah blah."

Then the despondency begins in my viscera and travels to my face and leaks out of my eyes.  And then if she or my Daddy calls, I don't want to answer.  I don't want to talk.  I may avoid them for a day or two, depending on how big a pain I feel about the item I am frustrated about, how optimistic I am about it, etc.

Then I think to myself, "Have I accepted her apology?"  Yes I have.  "Have I forgiven her?"  I don't know.

Honestly, I am not sure I even have a clear working definition of forgiveness.  I feel as though if I have forgiven you, I have forgotten your mistake because if I remember it, I am forever pained by it and in turn, can't forgive you, can't trust you, can't believe you can/have made a change.

But people impart to me that to forgive and forget is not wise.  You must forgive and release the mental anguish of holding someone accountable in your soul all the time.  But you must not forget so as not to suffer the same thing again.  I always wonder "What kind of life is that?  How can I live, having forgiven you but always waiting on you to do it again?"

Uggghh!

And apologies.  Apologies are great.  Apologies are hard to do.  Apologies are a great start on the road to forgiveness.  But an apology in and of itself is not the remedy, even if he/she to whom you are apologizing believes it's genuine, accepts it, and doesn't make you feel guilty about your mistake.

I heard the apology and I accept it but my feelings are still hurt.  I still feel humiliated and ashamed about myself.  I still feel less than.  I don't want to.  I don't like it.  I am not trying to hold onto it but I must wonder if that isn't the way you truly feel about me.

Part of what makes it so hard for me to forgive people is linked to the way I feel about myself.  I think of myself quite lowly.  I think of myself as damaged, confounded, and more improper than others.  For this reason, I find sustenance in the wonderful ways my family and close friends (who are family to me) think of me.  I haven't yet built and nourished my self-esteem with internal structures.  However, I believe the words and actions of my family and I stand tall atop their positive opinions of me until I am strong enough to build those same sentiments inside myself.  I need a good opinion of myself so that when I encounter those who don't like me so much, it doesn't hurt so bad.

The family members, whose opinions and love and respect and kindness I stand upon, have sometimes let me down.  Having nothing inside myself to compensate for external disappointments, I find it hard to forgive them.  I find it unnecessary to forgive them.  I already don't like myself, you said you loved me, and proceeded to chop me down as if I was disposable.  I can never believe in your love again.

This is a struggle I am having with a few very important people in my life.  My Daddy, who is extremely forgiving was encouraging me to use forgiveness to free myself of the anger I have for 2 aunts that I have always been so good to and that I thought loved me.  I am trying to forgive some best friends, some lovers, some strangers, some frenemies.

I hate to say it but I'm trying to forgive God too.  I felt abandoned and felt that God was weak because if She wasn't, after all I was able to sacrifice (that I KNOW other people could not have done), why did my breakthrough take so long?  I changed so much.  I gave up so much.  

I lost the sense of materialism.  I lost the sense of selfishness.  I lost all the connection to material things and things of no spiritual value and asked for very little when excess was consistently waved in my face.  I feel like I learned more than people ever realize in their whole lives.  The last leg of my suffering just seemed unnecessary and I'm still having this conversation with God everyday.

There is nothing inside myself.  With all my big, loud talk, I am the most sensitive, fearful girl in the world sometimes.  I have things I am passionate about and any timidity or fear or sensitivity is unavailable in the moments I am fighting for those things I am passionate about.  However, those things I am passionate about are not about me and not necessarily for me.  My sustenance, for now, is found in how I can fight for other people, make life fair for other people.  I haven't started really working on Haja yet.  I am working on Haja by proxy, by screaming, rebelling, writing, working for the populations I feel I am represented by.

And lastly I haven't forgiven myself yet so forgive me for my lethargy in forgiving you.  I trusted you.


**have only one heart
    one heart with no spares
    must save it for lovin'
    somebody who cares
           - Billie Holiday

Are You Talking to Yourself?

"Holla If You Need Me" by Trey Songz

...i cant pretend that everythings all good / nope i cant say that everythings all bad / but im gon say that u be on my mind / how u doin who u wit where u be at girl... 

Aloha.  I have been so busy with 2010.

I have a new job as a counselor in a program with the mission of improving the social and behavioral skills of students between the ages of 5 and 14.

The kids come from different schools around the city and demonstrate a vast array of maladaptive, anti-social behaviors.  My coworkers and I seek to help them learn better ways to express negative emotions, follow directions, respect authority, and other skills that most of use take for granted in our social navigations that they have yet to acquire.

My class is 11 beautiful Black girls between the ages of 9 and 14.

Some of their behaviors are shocking, especially the older kids.  You don't expect the kind of immaturity, emotional volatility, uncooperative, and disrespectful behaviors I see to come from kids that age.  They are confrontational, easily angered, attention seeking, cognitively far behind what they should be, demonstrate behaviors consistent with having low self-esteem, and et cetera for days.

I hug them everyday.  I compliment them everyday.  I remind them of the way the world perceives Black women and what Black women really are, how amazing Black women really are, and how amazing they are.

There is a lot of reprimanding and redirecting we have to do and I try to accompany it with love and patience.

**This job has proved to me how patient I can be.  Sometimes, I want to punch some of my students in the face.  They will bring you to a  point of annoyance you have never known before.  But of course I don't do it.  I don't even yell at them often, which is what they expect and usually what they get.  And it is hard not to yell.  This is the year I teach myself patience and this job is a great exercise.

On Thursday, my students were out of control and I had to kick 2 of them out of class to have an individual intervention with the counselor I am assisting.  I was so angry!  Eventually, I talked myself down and reminded myself I shouldn't take it personal.  They behave this way because of the numerous supports and social structures missing in their lives that I had a cornucopia of.  That is why I know (now) how to and how not to talk to people, engage people normally, respect people, think before I act, etc.

Those things are all so foreign to my students.  It takes so much, even to point out why something they say or do is disrespectful.

So on Thursday, I took my 3 problem children into the office and had group with them.  The other counselor I work with, all 11 girls, and I have group everyday around a topic that is usually augmented by expressing their emotions about whatever topic is chosen for that day.

Group had been completed and I was still having a lot of trouble engaging these three students.  When I took them aside, I sat silently for a while, trying not to cry in front of them.  That's what I do when I want to hit you, but I can't.  I cry.

I started talking to them probably like they have never been talked to before.  They looked sullen, but centered, concentrated on what I was saying, and looked directly into my eyes without me having to ask (eye contact is a skill we work on everyday).  All the attitude and fire that usually decorates their face and rages behind their eyes was gone.  They looked liked kids, with no behavioral issues.

I didn't scream at them.  I didn't berate them.  I didn't criticize them.  I just told them the real deal.

I reminded them that they are Black girls living in uber-urban Richmond City, attending school that are not interested in their education, and surrounded by an environment hoping for their failure.  A failed Black life is far more lucrative than a successful one.  I told them that people and a system are waiting for them to fail.  And in a way, they know that.  They write in their journal assignments that no one cares about them, from their mothers, to other relatives, teachers, and even the counselors at our center.

They seem to be viscerally aware that everywhere they go is just some kind of remediation for bad Black kids and so the deliver bad ass Black kids.

I told them that I care, that this job is great but it doesn't pay as much as it should, it requires a lot of self-sacrifice on my part and if I didn't care about them, I would just quit.  I have that option (not really but for the sake of the message, pretend it's true).  I told them I want them to be Black women that the world respects.  Being such entails acting like a Black woman that is respectable.  One shouldn't have to earn respect, but as Black women, as Black people, we do.  You have to outperform the White people just to be evaluated as adequate and not even as one who outperforms.  You do better than the best so as to be labeled a little better than the rest.

I told them about the things I endure each day as a Black woman that White people can tolerate because I don't "talk Black" or "act urban" (yes these are actual things I have heard said to me).  I told them about my dreams and what I dream for them and every Black girl.  I told them about taking advantage of the people who care about them instead of isolating and alienating themselves with confrontational and antagonistic behavior.

I told them about my psychology studies and adeptly diagnosed they ass on the spot (even more concentrated look appears on their faces) and told them what we need to do improve their behavior.

I told them about the family environment I want in our classroom and how we Black women tend to criticize rather than compliment each other.

That strong Black women stuff really sold.  And I was excited because I really meant it.  And Black History Month is right on time.  Monday, we'll of course discuss our Black inventors, activists, veterans, etc.  But we will also discuss pathologies in the Black community, self esteem, read literature by Black women for Black women for the purpose of uplifting.

This is my small start.

*I am trying my best not to indoctrinate them with my dislike and disdain for White people and men while i empower them as strong Black women but it is hard!*

Also, I am so passionate about Black girls/women, or course and I am taking 15 credits and Afrikana is doing some big things for the Burial Ground issue in Richmond and I am doing my business on the side.  Being SuperWomyn could be exhausting but I can do it.  Sleep is overrated.  right? right?!

Redemption Song

"Dream [Really] Big" by Jazmine Sullivan

.... i gotta dream big / cuz when it happens / it's gon' happen real quick / i gotta move fast / cuz when it happens / i can't let it go past / only get one chance...

Happy New Year again boo boos!  I am at work.  That is right, I am at work, typing this blog.  I say that only because the reality of this situation has not fully registered so I am just reminding myself I am employed.  This feels like a movie sometimes.

Don't worry.  The kids will be here soon and I'll be heading to my classroom, putting my laptop to sleep, ignoring twitter, all my text messages, and phone calls.  I don't take anything with me in that classroom.  Those children need my undivided attention.

And I give it to them.  They are so adorable.  Bad as hell, of course, but children still.  Some of them just want attention, coming from homes and larger environments that is not equipped to recognize them as individuals.  They misbehave, as they have learned it is a guaranteed way to get attention.

This is definitely a breakthrough.  God is funny.  They say if you want to make God laugh, tell Her your plans.  That is the truest thing they ever wrote.  The jobs for which I have been applying have not come through at all.  The job I actually obtained is the very job I didn't apply for because I thought I wasn't qualified.  I can't do it.  That is what I said.  All those jobs in the education department, I doubted and skipped over and I am definitely working at an educational facility.

Money is not everything.  In my small universe, money is not anything...but a lie.  To participate in this culture, you have to have money - to live, to be clothed, to eat, to move, to be stationary, to gain weight, to lose weight, etc.  And that is okay.  But for some reason, money in this culture is just a means to amassing lots of extravagant, big, spiritually valueless things.

I sound like a "hippie" which I resent actually.  Living 'naturally', being self sufficient, making my own things, not using (disavowing really) chemicals is not being a hippie.  It's being Afrakan.  The Afrakans lived and continue to live this way.  The hippies were just some bored White kids who caught on (although I would have liked to be a hippie).

This year I have vowed to learn to do a lot of things on my own.  I am becoming more and more and more Afrakan everyday and part of our culture in Salone (because industry is limited) is being self-sufficient.  Not everyone is self-sufficient by any means, hence the condition of a significant portion of Afraka.  However, if there is a particular item or service you just must have, you better be able to do it yourself for there aren't stores and malls and organizations available to provide such things for you.

Therefore, in 2010, I will be learning to do and make many things on my own that I have been taking for granted and buy wherever is most convenient.  And not because I am used to a particular standard of living that I want to take back to Afraka with me but because I am used to a particular standard of expression and consumption now.  I know better so I must do better.

And! My friend Nicole and I have decided to make a business out of our natural product making endeavors.  We will produce natural hair products, lotions, soaps, and whatever else we can learn to make boo.  By the end of the month, I need to have a business and a draft of a grant.  If you  know anything about business, or anyone who does, just let us know!

This week:
1. buy a tennis racket and balls
2. begin constructing business plan
3. lesson plans for the whole week for my kids (because if they sit still too long they look at me as if they may consume me)
4. finish notes from last week and don't volunteer my ass for any more notes.
5. create an altar
6. look into finding a new apartment
7. buy a new make up bag and all new make up (did I tell you that I lost all my make-up? do you know how mad I was? I can't believe what not having making did to me. I felt shallow and unpretty.  It shall be discussed in a blog entry, coming soon).

Peace, <3

Happy New You Eve

"My Father's Eyes" by Eric Clapton

...sailing down behind the sun / waiting for my prince to come / praying for the healing rain / to restore my soul again...

Happy New Year All.  Praise God I am able to see another one.  Praise God that you are able to see another one.

There is a kind of morbid song we Sierra Leoneans sing for the new year.  Hapi Nu Yia! Wi nor die oh!

It literally translates to "Happy New Year! We didn't die!"  It sounds morbid to us living in an industrialized nation where death is far, far less frequent of a devastation.  Death is a familiar visitor back home.  I sing the song too because although I am less likely to die, in these youthful years, living in this splendid country, I realize youth and location do not make you immune to death.  I could be dead.

I should be dead.  God knows what I have been through, what I have put myself through, what has been committed against me...it is an act of God alone that I am here still.

On top of that, I am here and I have changed.  I cannot adequately explained to you in what manner I have changed for I haven't the language.  And some of the change is so pure, so beautiful that it lives above linguistics.  You just gotta know and watch me boo.

And I am excited.  I never imagined this one year ago, two years ago, three years ago.  I didn't imagine anything back then.  I was just trying to get through the day.  Planning the next day was beyond me.

This year is truly the beginning of the rest of my  life.  I will finish the coursework for my first degree.  I will secure a full time job (with benefits...please shape up economy).  I will learn many things I have been interested in but lacked the passion to pursue.  I will be traveling to Sierra Leone, meeting my chosen husband and his family, and if all goes well, I'll be engaged by the end of the year.

It is strange because at a point, I refused to consider marrying him.  It felt strange to me that I should marry this man chosen by this woman I am constantly at odds with.  But as my relationship with my Mommy has improved, I have learned more about her, about my family, about my culture, and I have fallen in love all over again.  It became appropriate to me to follow our tradition (tempered and guided by my autonomy) and consider this marriage.  From what I have heard, he is well liked by my family and those who know me best say it is a good matching (thanks Mommy).

I am most happy to have made it this far not just to accomplish things, but to have figured out what I want to accomplish.

A few goals for the new year:

1.  Graduate
2.  Re-learn to sew/sell my sewn work
3.  Find a place I can play indoor tennis/racquetball downtown
4.  Learn to make natural hair products/sell natural hair products
5.  Get muscular
6.  Become officially engaged/get a ring (no diamond--we don't do that)
7.  Begin investing (learn the lingo too)
8.  Become a citizen of the USA!!!
9.  Learn to braid hair and other natural hair care techniques
10.  Love on my Mommy
11.  Learn from my ancestors
12.  Get Sisterlocks (and maybe pay the guap to learn to install them)
13.  Move to Washington DC
14.  Wipe out my debt (and I have decided the parents are going to help with that-->restitution!)
15.  Improve my Themne when I go to Sierra Leone!! <--this is the culminating point of my life