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Monday, November 23, 2009

I Could Do It Better

I've heard the same words from both men and women lately: "I hate dating!" Meeting new people, trying to decide what role they are auditioning for in your life. Hurting feelings. Getting your feelings (or if you are like me, your pride) hurt. Changing your mind. Wasting time. "Is this you're real phone number? Are you gonna call like you said you was?"


I'll wager that a couple of these fellas didn't always get the answer they were looking for. It takes a special sister to share her Luster's Pink Oil Lotion with a man.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the butterfly feeling you get when you connect when you meet a new person. The "anticipation of what's to come" my girl Lauren described last week. That part is awesome. But all the rubbish and time wasting and people of ill repute you have to deal with in the pursuit is just dreadful. I resent that the human need for companionship brings people in to my life who have no business even knowing I exist. Dating feels like a stressful, low paying job sometimes. And just when you feel like you're gonna quit for good, you get some crazy bonus check that's just enough to keep you happy until you're not.


I've got more terrible analogies than Little Wayne. I can keep going all day like a clock. Get it? All day like a clock. Tick tock. Color Me Badd.

I'm not interested in most of the men I meet. I guess it's because we tend to be attracted to what we are missing in our own lives, I draw in some fellas who are without any of the things I like most about myself and seek to find in others. When it comes to the ones I may fancy more, some of the possible connections are lost to 'the game'- the dance we somehow find ourselves obligated to do. I'm all for decorum, but there just seems to be too much...foolishness. Scripting text messages with the help of friends. Making sure you seem open, but not desperate. Available, but not needy. Not revealing too much about what you want from the future, for fear he'll ASSume you want to "cuff" him and steal his football watching time and his need to break off a hundred, thousand, trillion girls before he gets married.

And then, of course, there are the perpetual time wasters. I'm from the Ghostface school of thought when it comes to potential lovers: "F*ck negotiating/Is you with me? Is you aint?" Straight and to the point. Do you like me? Circle 'yes' or 'no'. And if you are still trying to figure that out, can there be some clarity in how you plan to manage that? I'm all for giving a little chase, but I'm not one for games. Lessen' it's Strip Uno. Now that's a game I can stand behind.


If you play your cards right...

To be frank, I think I'd be better at the boy part. If I could approach guys and mack em down a little bit, the world would be a better place. And I'd come up with something better than "Whatup brown skin? You looking nice today. Save my number in your phone if you want to conversate.*" Real talk, I think I could court the sh*t out of somebody. I'd be good at managing the initial contact and planning dates and all of that. That's not the feminist in me talking, it's just how my instincts work. The feminist in me says "Well, go on and try it." But the part of me who can differentiates reality from what I'd like the world to be is like "Don't be dumb."


Ghandi said be the change you want to see in the world. Ghandi, however, wasn't dating educated Black men in their 20's and 30's. So what does he know?

I know the game and the things to do, for the most part, when it comes to negotiating the inital stages of courtship. Yes, my role looks different than that of the man in question. I don't wholly resent gender roles, I think acknowledging our differences and being yin-to-yang works. But I just don't find many fellas of my generation playing the game the way I'd like to see it played and I think I'd just be better doing the aggressive part. I do really want to flex my macking skills on a young bachelor, if only to prove that I can. I suppose I am just odd like that. It's on the list of things I'd like to do just to say "Yes, I can". This list also includes winning a fight (I've never been in one, but I feel I need to just whup one person's tail before they put me in the ground" and performing in a drag or burlesque show. Don't judge me. I'm...special. Not the average kind that would fall for any line that sounds good.


Two shoutouts today, they should let me come to the family reunion. I'll bring the bread pudding**.

Eh, except for I just don't think I should have to be aggressive with a man. I gotta carry these two shoulder killers around and fuss over my hair, I shouldn't have to do all the romantic work....right? I don't really have a strong thesis behind all of this, my lovelies. This is just my dispatch from the battlefield of love. I'm unpacking some frustrations and I love you for listening. Another (occasional) blogger released some of his today and I found them to be very valid. Read for yourself:"R-E-S-P-E-C-T My Mind".


*-Actual "game" I have been subject to. Get thee to some educated brothers STAT.
**-I'm selling it for the holidays! Holler at me, NYC area: breadpudding@thebeautifulstruggler.com

Don't Stop Now...

Friday, November 20, 2009

Five For Friday: My Guys

Have you checked out my Facebook page yet? I just added a gang of new pics!

It's the weekend, yes! Ow! Bam! I don't have much planned for the weekend, but next week is going to be pure debauchery and folly in celebration of two days off of work. Yes, yes and more yes. The crew is volunteering at a local church to help feed the hungry as well. We are good people at heart.

Five For Friday time. Everyone talks about the types of men and women to avoid. But what about the sorts of folks you WANT to date? It's not the same for everyone, and it shouldn't be. These are my five flavors of preference at this particular moment. It may change in an hour. It's all in fun.

1) The Subversive Militant Buppie


"Alright, I gotta go. Mr. Charlie is looking. All power to the people."

Black power today isn't what it was 40 years ago. We can't all be Huey and Angela; some of us have to be working inside the master's house using his tools to dismantle it. Swoon worthy is the brother who can go deal with them other folks in their spaces, get the power and the paper and bring it back to the people. I have been thrown off my square a few times after looking at a brother in a suit and assuming him to be the happy assimilationist. Until he opens his mouth and can out quote me on Fanon and Malcolm. These brothers usually partake in some extracurricular activities that would blow their supervisors minds. They are comfortable and confident on the golf course with the Senior VPs as they are in the back room of a nag champa scented bookstore talking about ways to save our youth. Fluidity is sexy.
Famous Examples: Barack Obama (don't sleep), Hill Harper, Van Jones

2) The (Moderately) Humble Super Intellectual

These breed of man can be extremely rare. When people realize how smart they are, they can be a bit annoying or even bullying about it (see: a particularly adorable and otherwise charming blogger we all know and love). I'm admittedly superficial. I'm not usually giving a man I don't find to be physically attractive the time of romantic day. BUT a super-smart man is perhaps the only one who break down that very reasonable mandate. A man who has a mind that's so sharp that you aspire to his ability to think can be dangerously sexy. Unless he looks like a troll, then I just want to be his very good friend. *Kanye shrug* I haven't met many men like this, but if you see one, point him out.
Famous Examples: Cornell West, Dumi Lewis, a certain Howard professor we all know and swooned a little bit about (in a wholesome way!)


3)Clarence So Fine*


I ain't never scared.

I'm not totally innocent, I like some of the "bad boys" too. I have a little thing for cocky bastards, though I'm wise enough not to actually waste too much time on them. I can't help it. I don't see many people as being bigger or better than myself. It's not an arrogance thing so much as it is a way of protecting myself from being needlessly intimidated by others. I fancy that little arrogant swagger a lot of guys have, I find it funny. And I take great pleasure in breaking down a man's bravado. You think you bad? You ain't bad. I'm bad. Matter fact, I'm worse. Now take off your cool and dance withfor me.
Famous Examples: Will Smith on "The Fresh Prince of Bell Air"

4) The Sensitive Artist


Why yes, I will listen to you talk about feminism and no, my penis won't fall off.

He listens to Coltrane. He reads Alice Walker. He loves and cherishes the Black woman. He has a degree and he manages to support himself without selling incense on the street. DCWIO. You are not "for the people" walking around without health insurance or bouncing from goddesses couch to goddesses couch. But for all the misguided "I'm against the establishment because I don't pay taxes" brothers, we have some awesome, beautiful and talented boho fellas amongst us. Cue Me'Shell's "Dread Loc" and let's talk about reparations and blue colors. And I can cook tofu and tempeh for them without hearing about how Black folks useta survive on swine. These guys tend to understand my mission a lot more than most. Unfortunately, they don't always understand or appreciate the party and bullsh!t that I also believe in.
Famous Examples: Common, Larenz Tate in Love Jones (minus the moderately contrived spoken word, he gets a pass because it was 1997.)

5)The Funny Guy


If you can keep me laughing, you can keep me around for at least a little while. I can't stand a guy with no sense of humor. Or, worse, one who thinks he's really clever and witty, but it's batting zero on jokes. My friends and I spend an absurd about of time being humorous and if you can't keep up with us, you probably shouldn't be trying to kick it to me, real talk. To be truly funny means you're rather smart. That's a good percentage of the virtues I need to fall in love with ya, boy. That is, unless you look like a troll.
Famous Examples: Chris Rock, Will Smith on Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire (hmmm, maybe he's my dream man?)


Have a great weekend!
ST

*-I KNOW I am not the only one who remembers the episode of Amen when Bumper Robinson spun around and introduced himself as "Clarence....So Fine". Please tell me I'm not.

Don't Stop Now...

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Groupie Lovers

I love me some Kid Cudi. I think he is the bees' knees. Beyond him being super cute, his music speaks to me in a lot of ways; it seems that we have travelled some of the same more uncomfortable and sometimes lonely territory in our young lives. Like most male rappers, he's guilty of using some very sexist language and I do take issue with that. But that's not the reason for the season today, folks. I want to use Cudi to illustrate something I find wack (and I'm using you with love, Scott. You know I'd never hurt you or do you wrong).


"Make me say my, my, my, my, my/my, my, my, my, my/my, my/my, my"

When I first heard Cudi talk about the girls who threw him shade, I didn't believe him. Now, unless his real-life persona is completely antithetical to who he is on wax, I thought it was a little unbelievable that women didn't like him. He's cute, creative and witty. Had we been living in Brooklyn at the same time, I'd have been on his skinny jean clad butt like white on rice. But he probably wouldn't have likeded me back. And herein lies if not a "problem", a "something worth considering." I'm not one in support of social hierarchies. I think they are wack and best left to high school students. I do, however, seem to think that there is a level of awareness folks need to have about their "lane". If for no other reason but to save themselves some embarrassment, it may behoove you to have some concept of how the outside world views you.

Self-awareness is harder than math. Unless you are good at math (cough, you nerd, cough). Then it's harder than whatever you are bad at doing. If you are good at math, then I would assume it's harder than being cool or hip. DIE MATH DIE.

If HE had been teaching when I was a kid, I'd have learned something.

Anyway, yes, self-awareness is one hurdle; awareness of others' perception of you is even more challenging. And it seems like a lot of fellas lack awareness of how sisters (or other brothers) see them and how it relates to who they can/cannot pull romantically. Back to Kid Cudi. Cause it's always back to Kid Cudi with me. He makes me think of that artsy nerdy boy who was in all the ciphers after school (thowback Chi-town, Whitney Young, State and Madison, where you at?). He was cool with the artsy nerdy chicks, but wanted to date the "hot girls" like all the other dudes did. Sometimes opposites attract, sometimes not. And I've seen a more than a few guys just get really angry with women who are seemingly out of their lane for not liking them. I suppose this is the case for a lot of rappers, which is why we end up with otherwise likable and intelligent guys spitting lyrics like "Back in Shaker, bitches used to play me to the left/now I take the ones I want/and give my n*ggas what is left".

It's not just rappers. It's bankers, med students, lawyers, writers...I call it "Mike Jones Syndrome". This is a world driven by capitalism and a society that judges men on what they own. You ain't new here, so don't act like it. Back then, they didn't want you. Now you think you hot, they all on you. With improved status comes more women. Unfortunately, years of being "ignored" by the women they felt should have liked them creates some problems. Now we got a young doctor who assumes that every pretty woman he meets wants a baby by him so she can be a thousandaire. The writer who feels that all the girls in the club are pressing him because he was featured in The Source. The small biz owner who assumes that any girl who asks what he does for a living and where he went to school is trying to figure out how he figures in her plans to own 5 Louis bags by 2012.

Yes, your good job may be helping you get more women, but it may not be for the reasons you believe. There is often an increased confidence in a man who feels good about his station in the world. Confidence is appealing and hence, a brother may radiate more sex appeal when he's got his fancy degree than he did when he was feeling like a duck in undergrad. That's kinda what you should want to happen.

There are certainly some gold digging women in the world. And some women who aspire to barter their looks for a life of comfort with a successful man. But there are also fellas who choose to surround themselves with these girls and then get mad as hell when they realize they are being set up for the okey doke. Why are you kicking it tough with MySpace models who consider All Star Weekend to be a national holiday if you don't want groupie love? You weren't sold dreams, you got exactly what you paid for. If you don't like it, close your tab and find another woman to kick it with.


You can tell yourself they got the butt shots so they could be more comfortable sitting in a church pew, but that's probably not it.

Perhaps its residual insecurity from days past that keeps some of these fellas from trying to find women who are their intellectual peers or their professional equal. Perhaps it's a feeling that a successful man should have groupies. Perhaps some of y'all just have shallow taste in women. And perhaps others just don't understand your lane (past or present). But for some strange reason, it seems like a lot of nerdy creative brothers, the super intellectuals and the big ballers are all enamoured by this one sort of girl who represents something you think you should have: the chick everyone wants and can't have. And at the end, this creates losses for all of us.

It's not my job to define manhood, but I am wise enough to know that the woman you can pull and the O's on your check should not be a factor in doing so. A lot of you brothers are selling yourselves short trying to sell yourselves high and the good sisters are annoyed. No shade to the internet pinup girls; some of them are all around dope, intelligent women on their own, but if that's what you are looking for in a woman...you taking a gamble. I hate to act like the Obamas are the only example of a dope union. But real talk, if Barack had waited for the Jet Beauty of the Week to write him back instead of getting at the pretty ass girl he worked UNDER, we might not know his name today.


I've never seen Kanye and Amber look this happy, I'm just saying.

Don't Stop Now...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Love's Gonna Get Us

As we are a pop-culture obsessed society, our music of sway on how we view ourselves and how we behave. Well, some of us. A few of your favorite sanging cousins have penned odes to the independent woman doing it for herself. And your cousins in the streets have become very loud and proud about their ability to charge their own bags and pumps without a man's help. Ne-Yo calls her "Miss Independent", but I thought we already had a name for the woman who's self-sufficient: "an adult". I was honestly perplexed when this song and the subsequent odes to the woman paying her own way came out. If you are a single adult woman living on her own without parental support, how else would your bills get paid? I am well aware that there are some women who rely on handouts from men. But that's hardly the norm. So why celebrate something so...ordinary?


Yes, I work. These big collar shirts don't buy themselves.

It's almost offensive. It seems like there is an implication that while the indie misses are stacking for themselves, the rest of the women are just waiting for Captain Save A Hoe to come upgrade them. Or, perhaps it's just a declaration of a man no longer interested in being a breadwinner for a woman. Hey, maybe he wants to build generational wealth, which is fair. But I still find something troubling about these cuts and, more importantly, the attitude that they inspire in listeners.

"I love her cause she got her own". Not 'cause she's intelligent, thoughtful, funny, loving, compassionate. But because she has things. Fancy things that she bought for herself. Women have been guilty of loving ( men because they had things for centuries. Perhaps it's payback time? I don't rock with consummate materialism. Now I like to have nice things just like you. But I'm from Brokeland, and certain things you just don't do. And basing ones self-esteem or assessment of others based on their ability to acquire material goods is one of 'em.


Maybe he just wants her to have nice purses so he can borrow them.

On one hand, I see a win in women being proud to earn and make big purchases for themselves without a man's help. Never would I advocate waiting for someone else to do it for you. But on the flip side, I am not comfortable with the idea of being judged by potential suitors for my 'baller status' (or lack thereof, I should say). Part of that has to do with the fact that I'm an artsy, struggling creative type. I work in the hood, for the hood. I feel confident that my payday is coming, but it's not gonna come for me on the same time frame the sister with the MBA is gonna get hers. Should I be waiting to deal with my fellow middle-class aspirants until I get a few more 0's on my bank balance?

The other frustration has to deal with my unwillingness to deal with that same unfortunate strain we have placed on our menfolk with our financial expectations. I see far too many brothers who just become nasty and angry because they feel that they are somehow inadequate because they aren't balling out of control. Women already have to deal with amount of value placed upon our looks. Now we gotta be balling too? Your boy Hov seems to know a lot more about women's brands than I do. I had a man ask me what brand my shoes were once. This is not a world in which I want to live, friends.

We'd all prefer to be judged by the things we are good at. I am not good at being rich or having a big butt, at this point. So I hope I am not simply projecting my perceived inadequacies via my frustrations with the independent woman. But I feel that men and women are piling on these unreasonable expectations for our lovers and that a lot of us are coming up short because, well, Jay-Z and Beyonce are already married.

A little off-topic, but not quite:


Don't Stop Now...

Vote for The Socialite!

Please take the time to vote for our sister, The Socialite of Keeping Up With The Huxtables, to win the Sam-E "Good Mood Gig"! She is a great girl, a dear friend of mine and very committed to helping people live their best lives!



CLICK HERE TO VOTE!

Don't Stop Now...

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

From The Crates: Chante's Got A Man, But Lacks Humility

(Taking a mental health day, for obvious reasons. Hope you can get a chuckle from one of my very firsts posts, which appeared here a few years ago. Talk soon. Save the babies-ST)

Chante's got a man...


...and that's a good thing, cause I don't how the hell she could keep any homegirls talking like this.

Chante Moore is one of my favorite singers; not in terms of the number of records she's made that I like, but rather her voice. I hated it when she tried to dumb her sound down with that horrible Jermaine Dupri-produced "Straight Up". Moore has one of the best voices of her genration, in my opinion. Her stuff with her hubby, Kenny Latimore is cool and classy. And they are really cute together. Or, at least in promo pics, 'cause I don't really know them like that.

Anyway, "Chante's Got A Man", which was a hit in 1999 is one of my favorite songs by Moore.¹ However, these are the cruelest lyrics spoke to a woman short of "B!tch Betta Have My Money". Listen to how Moore chooses to console a friend who is less lucky in love than she:

Chante's got a man at home
And he's sure good to me


Homegirl: That's great, Te' Te'. I knew you would find someone. But we gotta talk. Me and Mike are having some serious problems. You see, he's never there. Always sneaking out the house. And when he is home, he beats the shit out of me. All men are all the same, I'll never find anyone better. What should I do?

I'm sorry that your man ain't home
I'm sorry that yours left you alone
It's such a shame your man is playing games


Homegirl: Yeah, this is bad. I don't know what to.......

And I heard you say that men are all the same
No, no, no
It's not the truth girl
Cause I got proof girl
Oh I got proof girl
I got a man at home


Homegirl: Well, I'm sure your man is just great. I mean, you are the 'Queen of the Quiet Storm' and you're so pretty. I didn't doubt you'd find 'the one'. Meanwhile, I got all these bruises and shit. What should I use to keep them from scarring....

Chante's got a man at home
It hurts me your man's leaving you all alone
I can't help it that your baby's bad
Creeping out, cheating on ya, beating on ya
Chante's got a man at home
And he's sure good to me


Homegirl:(Stunned silence)....You don't know much about being sensitive, do you?

Now why'd you let him beat you down
No, no, what's up with that
There's good men around
Don't you know how beautiful you are inside girl
And don't you let nobody go and steal your pride


Homegirl: Pride? Oh, I think I lost that when you just did that little rhyme about my man beatin' and cheatin' on me, thanks.

I once was where you are
Thought men were all the same
But I never gave up hope......
He always treats me right, we never fight
He sends me flowers and wines and dines me
Took me home to meet his momma
How he loves me


HG: *Silently plotting on how she can f*ck Chante's man*

Now, in the video, the song ends with Chante getting a call from her dreamboat and depating her homegirls' to go off with him as the lonely women cheer her on. But on the album, the singer answers the phone thinking it's her man....only to find that it is another woman telling Chante about her perfect man's infidelity with her. The latter makes more sense to me, because she had it coming for all that shit she was talking. Encouraging, my ass. She was gloating. Then, "I guess if it can happen to you, it can happen to me....." That's what you get!



Why, yes, I do love the 1990s.
Sister Toldja

¹- You may be wondering why I chose to break down a song from 1999 instead of, say, 2006. 'Cause, 'fuck 2006' is why. 2006 sucks. You wan't me to do a current song? Okay- here's "Upgrade U" by Beyonce feat. Jay-Z:

I hear you be the block
But I'm the lights that keep the streets on


The f*ck? Oh no, she's been watching the Def Poetry Jam, hasn't she?

Notice you the type that like to keep them on a
Leash though
I'm known to walk alone
But I'm alone for a reason
Sending me a drink ain't appeasing


Did she just rhyme "though", "alone" and "appeasing? WTF?

Partner Let me upgrade you
Audemars Piguet you
Switch your neck ties to purple labels
Upgrade you


Bronson Pinchot what? OK, I see consummate materialism isn't just for rappers anymore.

I can do for you what Martin did for the people
Ran by the men but the women keep the tempo


What did she just say? She's talking about Martin Lawrence, right? WHAT? TURN THIS SH!T OFF!!!!!

Don't Stop Now...

Monday, November 16, 2009

Am I Really My Sister's Keeper II: Girl, Please!

Good tidings to you all! I hope your weekend was dope. I celebrated the birth of two of my best friends in the world, Sister Webby and Sir Fabulous Himself. I acted a complete fool had a quiet, classy evening with the star of The Lauren Show. All was well in my corner of the world. As promised, here's another dose of sisterly love. Embrace it.

1)"He Don't Like You, He Won't Like You And I'm Starting Not To Like You Either"

Even I read the damn book. Come on, people.

When the "He's Just Not That In To You" phenomenon hit around 2004, it seemed to be a massive common-sense wake up call for women across the country. Could it be that men who don't call us, don't treat us with any sort of regard and don't spend time with us...don't want to be ours forever and ever? *GASP* Who'd have thunk it?

In all seriousness, I know from experience that letting go of your feelings for someone who don't want you back is much easier said than done. And when this is a person with whom you aren't actually spending much time, it becomes ridiculously easy to paint a perfect and unrealistic portrait of him in your head. You don't know how rude he is to waitstaff, because you don't go out. You don't know how gross his refrigerator is because you've never seen his kitchen. You don't know that he hasn't read anything more enlightening than a King magazine and the back of the NBA Live box since he graduated college because he doesn't really talk to you.
...or maybe he's your ex or your best friend and you know him like the back of your hand. Whatever the case may be, if he's not calling you or spending time with you, he probably doesn't like you. If he broke up with you and is seeing someone else, this is another clue that he's probably not wondering how your first name sounds with his last.

So, for the love of Ray J, stop making your friends listen to you spend hours and hours trying to rationalize how and why he does, in fact, need you in his life and secretly loves you. Stop begging for clarity and closure when you and I both know that's code for "one last chance to show you how awesome I am so you can please, please love me." You get a respectable amount of grieving and processing time (which is based on how long you were together, what the relationship entailed). I will gladly drink wine and weep with you and talk about how hard it is to find a good mate. But if you are going to make some fella who wants no parts of you to be the center of your life, then don't call me to talk about it.

There comes a point when it isn't his fault anymore, it's yours. You are an adult. You make choices. Choose your own happiness, choose your own piece. You can seduce someone, but you can't make them stay forever. You can entice, but you can't force love. If you need a therapist or a counselor to help you get past these issues, then by all means, make the call.


2) And Why You Letting Her Do That?
Any friend who allows you to plot and scheme and mourn over a man who treated you like crap and set you out on the curb isn't a friend. They are an enabler and enablers are the true villains of happiness. For every fool hearted fool, there's at least one person right there hyping them on.


"Yeah, girl! I think Jay and Alicia would LOVE it if you joined them on stage! Of course they know who you are!"

And so often, it seems that girlfriends are the main ones encouraging abhorrent, self-destructive behavior. Ask yourself, homegirl...why is that? Are we such believers in love that we are willing to help set our friends up for failure in search of it? Or are we just too cowardly to tell our sisters the truth when they need to hear it most?



"I love you sis. However, given that he just married your brother, I can safely say that I don't think you and Raheem are gonna work out."

I am trying to embrace my sisters with what Tricia Rose calls "transformational love".It's the hardest love around, because it doesn't always feel good being the receiver or the giver. We have a natural desire to protect people feelings and to want to make them feel good. Well, telling someone what they need to hear or what you feel doesn't always allow for the warm fuzzies. Hurt as it may, I'd rather sting in the short term than be bruised in the future.


Real talk, I've been the enabler. I've tried to make a man who probably found me to be as useful as a Pet Rock believe I was the best thing on two legs. I'm still single which I am sure says as much about me as it does...oh, who are we kidding? I'm the bomb and I'm single because no one is good enough for me. But even with that, I'm trying to get to a place where I can own my romantic failings AND help my girls through theirs. It's gonna hurt, but I'm sure we can all get to the good part if we are brave enough to work for it.

Here's a little musical inspiration for the start of the week:


Peace always,
ST

Don't Stop Now...

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Am I My Really My Sisters' Keeper? Pt. 1

The good thing about continuing to be on this Earth another day is the opportunity to continue learning and growing. Those are things I try to do and things that I sometimes do in spite of myself. I've recently learned, or perhaps been reminded, that continual criticism of others without honest self-analysis isn't gonna get you far. Just something to think about, my friends.

A big piece of my writing and my public war, as you know, is men: misogyny, sexism, patriarchy, privilege. Some of y'all think I have armpit hair down to my knees, I'm sure. And I feel that my criticisms and issues as they relate to gender are valid. That's why I have them. However, as I unpack the issues I have with members of the opposite sex as they relate to love and romance, I must also look at the womenfolks and what we are doing wrong (in both our actions AND our criticisms).

A lot of people settle for being "right". They feel like winning an argument is a victory. I don't want to be America's Next Top Right Person. What's the sense in that? We pat ourselves on the back for recognizing racism and sexism that our racial or gender counterparts don't see. Okay, but now what? The point isn't to be the rightest person, but to change the world...right? Well, sometimes we gotta change ourselves too. No matter how marginalized or oppressed we are, we are still human flawed and sometimes just dead wrong.

Self-reflection is hard. Self-awareness is hard. Criticism of others? Eh, not so much. We can pile up complaints on other folks all day long without breaking a sweat, present company included. Now, constructive criticism isn't always easy; it requires a delicate convergence of emotion and fairness, honesty and thoughtfulness AND (if delivered properly) sensitivity.


How many of us are truly Tresevanty? Tell the truth, shame the devil.

That said, I am seeing some behavior in my sistren and myself that I find to be detrimental to our alleged goal of creating happy, loving relationships with men. Now, it's hard to be yet another voice telling women "Love: you are doing it wrong". There's millions of dollars grossed yearly thanks to the belief that women need to be reading and studying and obsessing over how to get a man, how to be ready to get a man, how to keep a man, how to sleep with a man. Women are telling us how. Men are telling us how.

I'm just not even gonna say anything.

I don't need to revisit the long repeated criticisms found in magazines and books about not learning to love ourselves first or trying to fix a "no-good" man. I have some other observations that are weakening not only our arguments about the things that men do wrong, but our ability to be the stand-out lovers and sisters we all seem to think we are. These are a couple of things I have peeped from sisters on the Twitter and in the real-life streets lately that I want to call out. A few today, a few more in the future.

1)It's Not Her. It's That You Are Not Her
Say I like a man named Marcus. We used to date, but he moved on and I didn't. Torch carrying game proper. Say Marcus begins dating a stunning model who I feel is prettier than me. I tell everyone who will listen how superficial he is. Now, say that Marcus instead starts dating a frumpy, no-style schlub. Now everyone has to hear about how wack she is and how I don't get what he sees in her. Sense, this does not make and how many times have we heard the SAME woman make these two very different complaints? You can substitute complexion, body type, socio-economic class for the things listed above as well. At the end of the day, the greatest criticism we have of our desired one's chosen one is the fact that they are not us. Do men do it? Absolutely. But I hear women doing this far more often: shaming men for being shallow in one breath, and then complaining about guys choosing "ugly" women in the next.

2) What Are We Asking For Again?
One of the biggest criticisms of the various feminist movements throughout time: women who seem to be chasing not equality, but male privilege. Wanting not balance, but the same access to be awful and oppressive to others. I, again, defer to Paolo Frere's theories on this. Well, even amongst decidedly "not" feminist women, there is a sentiment that condones dogging men out because it's been done to us. I don't mean direct retaliation against former lovers (which could actually be fair or even productive, depending on the cleverness of the vindictive woman). I'm talking about "Girl, I treat these men like they treat us. Okaaaay?"


Again...no comment.

Two can play the game, but we aren't really adding more wins to the overall cause. There's a big difference between being a strategic and choosy dater as opposed to a user and an asshole. The last thing women should do is try to deliberately emulate the worst in male behavior. It doesn't help anyone, just adds more jerks to the already booming suckery we have amongst us. Why? Using men for sex or two-timing them is not gonna undo whatever pain you or your mother or less 'savvy' friends may have experienced. All it's gonna do is create more ugliness in the world. Which we don't need. The world is plenty ugly as it is.


PLENTY!

In the interest of time, I'll stop here. I've got more, trust me! If I am the sister warrior-lover I believe I am, I have to look in the mirror and I have to look at my girls and challenge us when I think we are wrong. This is an ongoing personal project and I hope we can grow together, folks.


Don't Stop Now...

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Sister Toldja LIVE!

What it is, fam? No real post today. I am in Philly, getting ready to present at another Cool Twitter Conference! I have some other really cool news. I will be a guest on Al B in the Afternoon on Philadelphia's 900AM WURD! It's going down TODAY at 5pm EST. If you are outside of the listening area, there is a live stream (audio and video) at www.900amwurd.com. If you get a chance to check it out, please do! I am awfully excited and I would love your feedback! And if you could tell your cousins and 'nem to listen in, that would be even better!

Thanks again for your support!

love always,
ST

Don't Stop Now...

Monday, November 09, 2009

We Who Are Not As Others

I am not a Christian, nor have I ever been a member of the Christian faith. This is a space to occupy as a Black woman that may be rivaled in discomfort to admitting that you are a Republican or a witch.



I was not raised in a household that subscribed to any institutionalized religion. My mother, with whom I resided, was grappling with her indecision about religion and practiced Buddhism when I was quite young. My father decried Christianity for it's role in enslaving our ancestors and observes some traditional Yoruba spiritual practices. In later years, he has attacked all major organized religions for the role they assign to women. (Yup, I got a gun-toting, weight-lifting, bass-fishing feminist father. Get like him.)

My household was hardly Godless. We have always been a family that dealt with spirituality very openly. I was allowed to explore religion as I saw fit and did a brief stint in a friend's Baptist church when I was about 10. I was curious about this Sunday ritual that most of my friends had and I felt left out. I liked Easter hats and the Sunday dinners. Lacking any real child-appropriate instruction about the Bible, I ended up being a bit bored and confused by the whole thing.I was over it all in a few weeks.

In middle school and high school, I explored Islam. While I admired the role of the Black church in the Civil Rights Movement, I was always more of a Malcolm girl than a Martin one. I wanted to be with the radicals! Plus, most of the rappers I listened to were Muslim or were at the time they recorded the music I held nearest to me: Kweli, Mos, Q-Tip, Brand Nubian, etc. I felt I would be a good Muslim wife for a strong, conscious Black man.


I was all in for "What's the science, Earth?" and "Peace, queen!" The patriarchy, not so much.

I had my dad buy me a Qu'ran for Kwanzaa. I quoted the Honorable Minister Elijah Muhammad's book "The Supreme Wisdom" in essays, partially as an intimidation tactic against my teachers who were trying to brainwash me with their Eurocentric education. For a brief spell, I wrapped my hair up, hopped on the #6 Jeffery bus and went to Mosque Mariam on Sundays. Actually, I thought I had accidentally joined the Nation Of Islam one week. The Hon. Minister Farrakhan asked those who wanted to accept Allah in to their hearts to come forward. I was riled up and excited by his political message that day, plus a bit star-struck; so down the aisle I went. Then, we went downstairs and I signed something. Fast forward to me calling the Mosque from school on Monday and asking if I had joined the NOI. It was explained to me that I was a member by birth and had not obligated myself to anything additional with my signature.

My interest in Islam lasted a bit longer than my exploration of Christianity (and my super brief peek at Buddhism); however, I again decided to walk away from religion. I felt that my head and my artistic/political interests were guiding me to something that wasn't in my heart. My feminist ideals had already taken shape and while I realize that there are women like me in all organized religions, I just wasn't down for any of them at that point. I felt, and still feel, that if organized religion is for me, God will make it abundantly clear.

Life in Negronia as a non-Christian is no crystal stair. There have been times I wished I was a Muslim so I could at least have something more 'respectable' to defend my reasons for not being a Christ follower. Trying to explain to people that I believe in God, but not religion is an often daunting task. Black folks tend to assume that everyone else is a Christian. At Howard, not only were there opening prayers at official university events, their were prayers that ended with "in Jesus' name we pray"! The first time I heard that, I looked around expecting to see other shocked reactions. Everyone else just said "Amen." I just knew that the speaker had forgotten that he wasn't at church or at home or in the company of people who had ALL accepted Christianity. How could they do this at a school? What about the Muslim kids? The kids who didn't believe in God? What about me? I felt like an outcast.

I have had to stop people mid-argument and tell them that while I respected the fact that their opinions were informed by the Bible, that mine were not. Thus, you can't argue me with Scripture because we aren't on the same page. This has been impossible for some folks to consider, especially when it comes to matters of church and state. I've also had people say in my presence "I'm sorry, but I just don't trust anyone who doesn't accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior", without even remotely considering the possibility that I wasn't Christian.

I do worry about the impact my religious choice may have on my dating life, especially as I get closer to you-know-what age. I'd be okay with committing to someone who had different beliefs, but I wouldn't convert for anyone. I don't think God would want me to join a religion to make another human being happy. God knows when I'm lying. I just hope my future super boo doesn't have a hyper-religious family that won't accept me into their fold. I have a lot working against me romantically: I'm a non-Christian feminist with a deep opposition to the smell of pork. I may be Negronia's least eligible batchelorette.

I have friends who are Christian who are loving and tolerant of my dissenting religious beliefs; I also have others with whom we do best to just not speak about religion, which is fine with me. I am in no way, shape, or form implying that all Black Christians are intolerant or prejudiced. However, there is certainly a level of marginalization and ostracizing that I find to be unfortunate. Furthermore, I find some of the widely held practices and beliefs of the Black church to be embarrassing and in total opposition to what I stand for. It's hard to separate myself in total from a group that has by and large done so many positive things for our folks, but there are just times in which I don't want that group even attempting to speak for my needs.

I feel good about my connection to the Almighty, the spirits, the ancestral council. My relationship with the Creator doesn't need a mediator. And I feel good when I see people who have done beautiful things for themselves and others with organized religion. I realize that the teachings of the Bible and their varied interpretations prevent me from seeing eye-to-eye with people on a number of subjects, and that's fine. I just wish to challenge the institutionalized religious normativity (God, how many times a week do I say that word?) within the Black community. Non-Black Christians are not Jesus-hating devil worshippers. We aren't doing the devil's work. We all trying to get to the same place for the most part and we needn't make anyone feel uncomfortable along the way.


Don't Stop Now...