Sunday, November 25, 2012

What Are You Willing to Wait For?


Patience is a virtue. We have all heard this old adage yet, it seems, few of us actually practice this principle. Our society has no time for patience. We live in a world of instant everything: instant messaging, instant coffee, instant gratification. Every single American probably utters the phrase, “I don’t have time for this,” at least five times a day. And what is “this”? “This” could be the annoying people you work for and/or with, morning traffic, afternoon traffic, a slow server at a restaurant, the bus, etc.  Anyone or anything that is not ready when we are ready, we dismiss with “I don’t have time.” How can we have time with all of the roles we must fulfill, people depending on us, deadlines and due dates looming about our heads? The world is on our shoulders and we have more worries than we have time to list them all. Or do we?

Thanksgiving night, my husband, his best friend, and I went grazing for the ever elusive, but highly anticipated Black Friday deal. We drove past stores with lines and only went into the few that were open. It wasn't even Friday. Not even close. It was 8:30 on Thursday night, yet there they were. Thousands of people waiting for midnight. Waiting for stores to close and then re-open with new drastic markdowns and discounts. Stores that did not have lines were packed with people anxiously searching for the best price. In Target, people stood in lines that snaked around the aisles. Families sent out scouts for popcorn and slushies. I would love to tell you that we found the bargain of a lifetime. I wish I could write that my husband and I found the computer with everything we wanted for only half of what we budgeted. I would like to say that my husband’s buddy found an Ipod for $75. That did not happen. The prices were not low enough for us to spend three hours in line, so we left.

This excursion of ours was not completely fruitless. I discovered that Americans, who claim to be constantly pressed for time, somehow found several hours to could stand in line for things. Stuff. I realized that our society’s instant gratification mentality only applies in certain cases. We may not have time to call our parents, spend time with our children, or thank God for all of His blessings, but we do have time to wait in line for a television that has been marked down. We make time for what matters most to us.


As the Thanksgiving holiday moves into rear view, and signs of Christmas loom ahead, let us concentrate on the what truly matters most. We may not have time for traffic, and tedious paperwork, but always make time for people, especially your family. If your family is anything like mine, they are much more valuable to you than any electronic device and far more entertaining. 




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Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Natural Question


I have a living bucket list. Since I underwent the “big chop” on my 22nd birthday, I have vowed to change something with every following birthday. For next the few birthdays, I got a tattoo, went tandem hang gliding, and my natural hair crept down my shoulders. Then, I got bored with my hair. So on June 5th, 2009, I donated ten inches of my natural hair to Locks of Love, then, permed and cut the remainder into a short short bob: Toni Braxton circa 1996. All was well, until the new growth began. I felt conflicted. I welcomed the hair growth, but how could two textures coexist on three inches of hair? For about six months, I continued to perm my hair and endure the burning torture session called a “touch up.” By month seven, enough was enough. I went back to roller sets, twist outs, and the like. My relaxed hair and my natural hair would just have to get along because I was not going to peel another scab from scalp. I vowed to never perm my hair again. And I haven’t. Then, I got bored and colored my hair on June 5th 2011.
As with most women, my hair is an expression and extension of my beauty. I love and embrace everything it is and everything it is not. I consider myself a card carrying member of Team Natural now that every strand on my head is natural again, but some argue my credentials. In my travels, I have had many conversations with Black women about what being natural means. Below are some biases on the natural question along with my thoughts.
·         “If you flat iron your hair all the time, you might as well get a perm.”
Negative. A perm is a permanent, chemical process that irreversibly changes your texture and damages the hair. Most women who perm their hair flat iron it as well adding more damage. Not to mention that most White women typically blow dry and flat iron and/or curl their hair everyday or every other day without a perm. We can do the same thing.
·         “If you color your natural hair, it’s not really natural.”
I disagree. While permanent color can alter your texture, it does not straighten it. As I am learning, colored hair behaves different from non-colored hair, but it is all one curly-kinky-wavy mass of loveliness.
·         “If your hair is natural, you need to set it in a twist out, Bantu knots or something.”
Nope. India Aire said it best. “Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I don’t.” The most important thing I have learned on my hair journey is that you cannot tame the natural mane. You can only hope to contain it. That’s why I have six different combs with varying teeth. Part of the freedom of being natural is letting your hair do its own thing. It doesn’t have to be in uniformed, military precision curls. That’s the beauty of it.   
·         “You can be natural because you got ‘good’ hair. I couldn’t do that.”
EEEEEENK!! Wrong answer. Caution: I will probably offend someone with the following:
As a people, we MUST let go of the “good” hair mantra. If we honestly look at the root of that statement, it bears a strange, ugly fruit. There weren’t enough Native Americans to procreate with every Black person’s great-grandmother. Our female ancestors were victimized by horrific sexual violence and manipulation, usually at the hands of White men. That chapter in history is over, and “good” hair is not a consolation prize. Please let it go.
 If you want to go natural, do it. If not, that’s cool too. As long as your hair is well-moisturized and growing, it is all good.



Long hair....

Short hair...

Transitioning hair...


Natural hair...

My hair...
You’ve read what I think. I’d like to hear from you. What do you think about “The Natural Question?”

Sunday, November 4, 2012

More Than A Right



I have never been a morning person. I’m still not. When I was a college student at Middle Tennessee State University, there were many mornings I did not want to leave my room. Whether I was exhausted from partying or studying or working, some mornings required an extra boost. One such morning during my sophomore year, I drowsily showered, dressed, and prepared for my classes dreading the tasks ahead. At the time, I lived in Gracy Hall, an “exterior” dorm.  In other words, the dorm was like a motel. The door to the room opened to a  balcony outside. When I locked my third floor dorm room on this particular morning, I looked down at the other students moving about their daily routines. The image of heads and backpacks was very arresting. I realized two things: 1) the third floor was pretty high off the ground, and 2) there weren't many African Americans here. Certainly, I knew that I was a minority at MTSU, but as I watched the students from that vantage point it became crystal clear. It was a privilege to be there.

As the product of a single mother, and a working class family, the societal cards were and are stacked against me. Moreover, I am descended from slaves, sharecroppers, and maids.  My ancestors would have loved the opportunities I have been afforded. I have an obligation to take advantage of every single chance I have. Earning an education was an opportunity my ancestors sacrificed, toiled and prayed for. As I stood on the balcony of Gracy Hall eight years ago, I realized that I was living their American Dream.
Like education, voting often seems like more a nuisance than privilege. There’s the paperwork and the waiting, not to mention the added pressure to make the right choice. I am not writing to make plea for any particular party, policy, or politician. This is about doing what others could only hope for. This is about understanding the scripture “To whom much is given, much is required.” If your ancestors were poor, female, non-white, or all of the above, YOU MUST VOTE!! It is more than a right. It is a privilege that we have done little to earn. We owe it to our foreparents.
P.S. There is only one America. Let’s move in it the right direction. Forward.