The Competition

This post has been a long time coming. I've avoided writing about this topic, I think, because I really didn't want to believe it was such a prevalent reality in my life. But there's no denying that women are in constant competition with each other and my life is filled with it. Everywhere I look there are women competing for attention from men, in business, friendships, each other. I know this competitive behavior is driven by media brainwashing. Competition can be healthy, but I don't think it belongs in interpersonal relationships.

I have never had a competitive spirit. I like watching sports competitions, but I have never had the drive that professional athletes have, not even when I played sports. This is, perhaps, what made me a mediocre basketball player in high school. Nevertheless, I wasn't fixated on winning so much as improving my personal game. In reality, I wanted to be like my brother and have him be as proud of the way I played as I was of the way he played. I've always competed with myself. I set goals to beat my own GPA or test scores, not my classmates'. I tried to please and impress others, I admit, but not beat them. Even when I enter writing competitions it's to see how I've improved. If I don't win or place, I'm not there yet, work harder or differently. 

I have had female friends go after men they knew I was interested in, when they weren't interested at all until they knew I was. Women have tried to sabotage projects I worked on in school by giving me wrong information. (Fortunately, I have always been one to research a matter myself), Co-workers have stabbed me in the back even when we weren't competing for a promotion, bonus, or raise. I have had male friends tell me their wives were threatened by me even when I advocated for them to the point of almost losing my friend. Women play mind games with each other too. They will be quick to point out your faults, which are sometimes fabricated, instead of your strengths. Here is a secret for you men, women dress to impress each other, not you. Even when they wear revealing clothing, it is to attract you, yes, but not so much because they want you so badly, rather it is to beat out other women.

I used to be a real proponent of sisterhood and supporting women until I found it wasn't usually reciprocated. For a long time I refused to have female friends other than ones I grew up with (and even a couple of those I kept an eye on) because I could no longer trust women. It was only a couple of years ago that I began making female friends again. But I've found that the game hasn't really changed much. Even some of my friends who I think are good women and probably genuinely like me tend to consciously or unconsciously compete with me. These are smart women with loving husbands, beautiful children, and great lives, some of them even make more money than I do. I used to think to myself, "why am I a threat to you? You have a better life than I do." I am now realizing that I must be pretty awesome to warrant such competitive efforts. Yet, I still see a competitiveness in small ways. Some withhold their support from you, but not others because in their minds you are competing for the same type of attention. Others find subtle ways to belittle you so as to rupture your self esteem. Still others have an uncontrollable need to prove you wrong, even on something as small as who starred in a movie.

I am happy when others do well, especially family and friends, especially in something I hope to do. It increases my hope that I too will one day succeed in attaining my dreams. I have always believed that if you begrudge someone else's  happiness, you stifle your own. But I've seen friends, co-workers, sisters, even mothers and daughters competing with each other. It really hinders my ability to trust women. But the media tells us what beauty is, what success is, that we need to be better, stronger, richer, prettier, smarter, sweeter, thinner, taller and whatever else, than other women. Advertising compares us with each other and tells men who to be attracted to. I fear it will never stop. For the record, I am trying to be better than I was yesterday. I am competing with who I was last week, month, year, decade. I am rooting for you, supporting you, loving you. I am NOT a threat to your marriage, income, popularity, self esteem, friendships, or anything else. I'm not even in the game, so you can stop competing with me.

A Sad Commentary on Humanity

It has taken me a few days to sit and write this as I really wanted to reflect on what has transpired over the past few days and the emotions connected to the acts. It is not my intention to cast aspersions or belittle any one's suffering. In fact, I hope to honor lost lives and their memories and elevate souls. I am still not sure I am ready to write this, or if you are ready to read it, but there's no time like the present.

A few days ago, an announcement was made that the most wanted man, by this country, was killed. I understand the emotion behind the reaction. Many people lost loved ones in the September 11, 2001 tragedies for which this man was accused of and allegedly admitted to perpetrating, not to mention the enormous destruction and bloodshed was the largest this country had seen on it's own soil since the Civil War. Yes, I am aware of the emotional damage and sense of loss of security felt around the nation. A trauma such as that leads to a natural desire for vengeance and reciprocity, which this country has been engaged in for the last ten years. I get it. What I do not get is the reaction to the news that this man was killed. Crowds took to the streets dancing, chanting USA, stomping on his picture, and celebrating as if their team had won the championship. They even played "We are the Champions!" This was the reaction to a human life being taken. I felt sick and disappointed in my fellow humans. What went on was the basest of human behavior.

Christianity is the largest faith in this country, yet it's principles seemed to have been forgotten recently. The bible says "Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapprove and turn his wrath away from them." (Proverbs 24:17-18) When Jesus was crucified, crowds jeered and cheered and cast lots for his belongings.  He may have been a savior to the Christians, but as far as the people at that time were concerned, he was a blasphemous enemy. The two scenes, back then and the other day, seem eerily similar.

I would think this is a time for sober reflection. "Justice has been done," the president and everyone was saying. Has it? Did killing this man bring your loved ones back? Hundreds of people were killed on that day. To say justice has been done makes that one man's life as valuable as the hundreds lost. People were claiming it was an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Well that kind of thinking only means the blind and toothless are leading the blind and toothless. And where does it stop? They got us, we got them, they get us again. International gang banging is all it is. Don't knock the boys in the hood fighting over their turf, they got their example from the best. Meanwhile, Americans have now tasted blood and they're thirsty for more. Word of his death was not enough. You want to see gruesome photos and video. Is this what we want to teach future generations?

I admit that I, fortunately, did not personally lose anyone in the 9/11 tragedies, but I have tried to imagine what it would be like to lose someone I love via the hands of another. Yes, I would want vengeance, and may even seek it on my own. But if I succeeded, the knowledge that I took a life would be on my conscience and stain my soul for eternity. It certainly wouldn't be enough justice for me. Every holiday or special occasion would still be marked with the sadness of their absence. I would still wonder about the life they could have led were they still here. So I keep my faith that a higher power will enact the right justice on wicked individuals. It may not be enough for you, but it keeps my hands and soul clean.

I entreat you to put your mind on your loved ones. Pray or send positive energy to the universe that no more lives are taken, anywhere. This vengeful mindset only leads to more violence and bloodshed, and innocent people are bound to be affected. "Do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.  Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For those who are evil will be destroyed, but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land." (Psalm 37:7-9) Over 47,000 of your loved ones have been killed or injured in this quest for vengeance and "justice." Where is the justice in that?

Black is the new Black

Whether you are pro Obama or not, whether you think he's doing a  good job or not, whether you fully recognize the significance of an African American being voted into the office of president of this country, there is one thing I am convinced of, he had to be elected. Now I don't write much about politics (or politricks as I call it) and this really isn't about politics either. I've noticed since the day the final votes were tallied in the Obama/McCain election that there has been a rise in racial-racist incidents. It's not a slight increase either, and President Obama is not the only target.

I was reading some articles about the rise in racial incidents since Obama was elected and it's astounding that these stories were not all over the news. There were incidents from New York to the south to California. The incidents ranged from college students writing "shoot that (n-word) Obama" on college campus walls to mock hangings, to cross burnings ( the most recent was in San Luis Obisbo, Ca.) to second and third graders chanting "assassinate Obama." Now before you shake your head, say that's a shame, and move on to "Dancing with the Stars," do you see what this indicates? Those of you who sit in your big homes or ride in your $60k cars sighing 'we've arrived, it's good to be an American' should brace yourselves for this. Racism is not dead, it is very much alive. One article described racism like cancer, it may go into remission, but it is never gone. Well break out the chemo, the cancer is back, and it's metastasized (spread).

This is why President Obama or some other black man had to be elected, to uncover the cancer that is still raging through the body of this country and wake up those of you lounging with your stunner shades on while your guard takes a nap. Barack Obama has received more death threats than any president, ever. Do you think it's because of his health care bill or foreign policy decisions? It is because he is a black man in Amerikkka and he holds the most powerful position in the country. So here we are in the 21st Century and we're not really any further ahead socially or consciously than we were when Dr. King made his "I have a Dream" speech.

I'm not going to ask what we're going to do about it, because I know that people tend to put their rose colored glasses on and don't act until those glasses are shattered on their face by a fist, or else they're afraid of a scene like Egypt or Libya. But let me put you on alert. There are some people out there who hate you because you are not like them. One article said that people were chanting "deport Obama." Well, first of all, they should have said "export Obama" since most Africans in Amerikkka were "imported" here like cargo. I'm sure he's not the only one they would like to "export." Are you ready to go back home? By the way, those that hate one race, usually hate all races that are not their own, so my Latino, Asian, Middle Eastern, and even Jewish brothers and sisters, you better look out too.  I supplied a link* for one of the articles below. It was written in 2008. The cross burning in San Luis Obisbo occurred in March 2011.
It's time to eradicate this cancer for good before it eats away at all that is good about humanity.


* http://www.blackamericaweb.com/?q=articles/news/moving_america_news/2768/1

Joy

Joy is a blessing because it is permanent. Unlike happiness which requires specific events or things to occur and thus is fleeting, joy remains because it is rooted in something that cannot be moved; truth. Whatever the truth is for you, if your faith in it carries you through the trials and tribulations, you will experience joy. My truth is my Father the Mighty King, my ancestry, my roots, knowledge of self. Regardless of what is transpiring in my daily life, my truth always leads me back to joy.

Don't misinterpret this to mean that you will always feel joy, but it is always present. This is a comfort to me because I have gotten into the habit of reminding myself that I have joy so that I can feel it once again when those miscreant intruders try to steal it. You know me, I'll just throw in one of my favorite Cd's and sing and dance my way back into joy. Writing is also a joy to me, although I am beginning to think I am not that good at it. I mean I know I can write a good sentence, but really good writing is compelling and elicits response. Then again, I am only beginning to put real focus on my writing, so that may change. Nevertheless, it brings me joy.

I guess I am writing about joy today because sometimes I feel schizophrenic. How can I feel betrayed, hurt, and angry, one minute, and elated the next? But I have so conditioned my mind to find joy in all the little things that it goes into autopilot in those situations. Once the youth arrive to my program, I am thrown back into my own childhood, which was filled with joy. When that Groundation song comes on that reminds me that "We are not the losing hand" I remember the legacy handed down to me by my Father the Mighty King.
I am thankful for all the little joys because stacked together they stand taller and stronger than the biggest tribulation.

What brings you joy? If you don't know, you need to research it. Happy feelings are wonderful, but they fade. Once the party's over, and you're back to your regular life, what will sustain you? Children are a joy, family is joy, life is joy. Bathe yourself in joy, let it soak into your pores, drink it and let it into your bloodstream, chant it into your brain and spirit so that it will never leave you. I may not always be happy, but I will always have joy. Be in joy.

Family

I was going to stop this blog, but there were a couple of loyal readers who asked me not to, so this is for you, even if no one else reads. Today I'm rambling about family. No matter how much they can aggravate us, in the end, family loves us. Yesterday I was lamenting over not having any friends with whom I could hang out, knowing they truly enjoyed my company. Today, family was in town and was not only excited, but anxious to see me. Even the new people I met enjoyed engaging me in conversation. This made me remember something I had read before, "everyone is not going to like you, it's not their job to like you."  So although I still wonder why some people to whom I've never done one bad thing, still don't like me, I can accept that fact and move forward.

Shared experiences, memories, and love is what makes people family. DNA helps, but isn't necessary. We are all family in the greater universal sense of the word, but  for me, there are certain experiences that can make anyone family to me. If I can be myself around you without fear of judgement, you have become family to me. If I can tell you about yourself, with love, and you harbor no grudges and we carry on without animosity, you are my family. If you are sincerely happy for my happiness, you are family.  That's not easy to find, even when you share DNA. But I've found it in my family, and some of those members are not biologically related.

I often want to do away with the whole "friend" title. It either says too little or too much about the people to whom I'm referring. Some are family, others are acquaintances, while still others are frenemies (say they're your friend but act like your enemy). Those who know me often hear me referring to people as my "sistren" or "bredren". I prefer that. My family has always had many extensions. It was my grandmother's influence. No one ever went without a roof or full belly if my grandmother knew they were in need. The beautiful thing is that no one ever took advantage of her, or took her for granted. It feels good to be a part of a family, even if you are not related.

I give thanks to my Father the Mighty King, for putting people in my life who genuinely love and care about me. It is good when people make time in their schedules for you, it is even better when they don't have to check their schedules to do it. That is what family does. They miss you when you're gone, celebrate when you're happy, and cry when you cry. I love my family, even the ones who don't read my blog (smile).

Insecurities

What is beauty? I once did an image search for beauty and all of the pictures were of people, and none of them looked like me. Does that mean I am not beautiful? If I had a dime for every time a friend told me "you have a pretty face, if you would just lose some weight, you'd have it going on," I wouldn't have to work anymore. Don't you love "compliments" like that. It's like giving someone a beautifully wrapped box of shit.

We are bombarded with images these days, so much so that people don't read anymore. They just look at the pictures. These images in magazines, television, movies and videos are setting the standard for beauty, and have been for a very long time. The problem is, the standard does not include a great majority of the world's population. People of African, Latino, Native and Asian decent are represented in lighter hues with more European features. In cultures around the world, for centuries, there has been the belief that lighter is better. So non Europeans have been bleaching their skin, dying and straightening their hair, and having surgeries to meet this standard of "beauty." The biggest joke here in the U.S. is how the media promotes thinness as beauty, with commercials for super sized meals and weight loss products in between. I promise you McDonalds and Bally's struck a deal with each other a long time ago. So here we are, unwitting pawns in the game called the "American Dream" not realizing we can never win.

I have noticed that even ones who claim to be of a "higher more evolved consciousness" fall prey to this propaganda. I hear them say that true beauty comes from within, but I see them ogle and applaud that same standard of beauty. I have been rejected by some men who claim they want a strong, intelligent, conscious sista, only to see them with thin, Euro centric dimwits. This contradiction is confusing. I remember when I was in college, two friends and I went to a club. I hated clubs. We were sitting at a table and two men came and asked if they could join us. They engaged us in conversation which was surprisingly intelligent and witty. My friends weren't interested in talking so I laughed and spoke with the gentlemen and began to have a nice time. Then a popular song came on and they asked my friends to dance and I was left sitting there holding purses. Like I said, I hated clubs. Years later, the TV producer I was working for gave me some insight on the male psyche. He said, "Most men like their women pretty and dumb. Pretty and smart women are intimidating to us, so you're going to have a hard time finding a man." I didn't know until now that he was psychic.

I, like many other women have struggled with body image all of my life. Janet Jackson even wrote a book* about her struggle. Yes, even Janet Jackson has had to deal with this issue. People always say one shouldn't define themselves by what others think of them, but that advice is much easier to agree with than to follow. I remember when I was a child, my brother used to tease me about my weight. Playing the dozens it was called. I think he only did it to get laughs from his friends, because he never did it when it was just the two of us. But from age 11 until today, I have never felt beautiful. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can kill the spirit. I have good days and bad days. Some days I feel fierce, other days I don't even want to leave the house and subject the world to my hideousness.

I know you're asking, "why won't you just lose the weight?" Well, in the last three years, I have lost around 80 pounds, with much more to go. It's a lot easier to put on than to take off. I finally stopped medicating myself with food (except of course for herbs and other actual healing foods). I replaced it with smoking at one point, then my mother got breast cancer and I stopped that. Shopping then became my drug. When I moved, I gave away tons of shoes and clothes that I never wore. I can't afford shopping therapy these days, so I write. It's healthier, however, not being read is a downer. But I digress. Most of the work I have done on myself was about becoming a better person inside, healing and nourishing my spirit. But the mind, body, spirit connection is strong and I know I have to increase my work on the mind and body.

What I would really like to know is, what is the worse thing that could happen to you if you allow yourself to be in love with someone who doesn't fit society's standard of beauty? How long will we allow ourselves to be pawns in this game? African women since creation have had wider hips, fuller breasts, plumper backsides, and ample thighs. In Africa today, a woman who is about to get married is taken into a hut for a period of time and fed only milk, and isn't allowed to move, except to relieve herself, until she fattens up. It is a sign of beauty and prosperity. And people wonder why I want to go back to Africa. Well, I'm going to try window shopping therapy today, avert your eyes world, here I come.

*"True You" by Janet Jackson

Friends, how many of us have them?

I wrote a while back about how much easier it was to make friends as a youth. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Moving to a new city has many challenges, not the least of which is making new friends, especially when you don't know many people. It was so much easier when I was in school, so easy I didn't even worry when I went to a new school, or appreciate it. That is a time when we learn how to do things in life. We learn social graces, how to share, teamwork, how to read people, how to make friends. The problem is, how we make friends changes as an adult. I wonder, does it have to?

I remember when I first went to head start everyone in my class was my friend. We played together, ate together, went on field trips together. When I had a birthday party, the entire class was there. I don't remember, however, any formal introductions or efforts to become friends. I think we were all dropped off by our parents at this place where we could play. That's how children become friends. They all want to play, and if you're not mean, we play together everyday, which made us friends. As we get a little older, we become a little more diserning about who was in our "clique," but at my school, which was K-8, those of us who started kindergarten together remained friends through eighth grade. Some new kids came in the 5th or 6th grade who were ushered right into the group too. I always tried to be friends with everyone, or at least kind to them. I guess I knew then how lonely friendlessness could be.

High school was much more "cliquey", especially at an all girls school. But there was still something about being in the same class that brought a certain solidarity, that to this day remains. I am connected on one of those social networking sites with classmates from high school whom I didn't hang out with much, but had enough interaction with to call  friends. I think schools, if they are wise, facilitate activities and situations where students can make friends. Even when you have your core group of friends, you engage in extracurricular activities like sports, student government, or drama club, which then adds a sub-group of friends. One of my closest friends today was not someone I hung out with at school  at all. We didn't even have classes together. I met her on the bus and found out she lived up the street from me. I was only on the bus to go to school.

College was much of the same in that it was a situation that facilitated building friendships. I was more nervous about doing well in the classes than making friends. A school with 30k plus students living with or near each other spending hours studying, partying, and having new experiences together is the perfect scenario for making lifelong friends, or even finding a spouse. Our formative years are one big friend making fest. So why is it that once we leave school, it is so much harder to make friends? We seem to become solitary beings with invisible shields to keep everyone out of our world. You need a secret password just to get in. Even if you go back to school, it's not the same. Adult learners are there to learn in order to better their situations, no time for socializing.

Here I am in a new city, well, new for the second time because I went to school a few cities over, and I am challenged to make friends. I am not in school where I can bond with others in the same situation. I can't just go to the jungle gym and start playing with other adults. People are wrapped up in their lives trying to make business deals, tend to their children or spouses, and navigate everyday life. When you have children it seems to be easier as you bond with other parents during playdates. But how do you make friends as a single adult? I find myself on those social pages "friending" people who live near me and trying to find common interests. But once I do, then what? These days, I find I have to "woo" friends like I would a lover. If the person is male, I have to be careful that I don't give him the impression that I'm interested in dating him, unless I am. I guess men and women can't become friends unless they are co-workers once you leave college. I have met some people online who I wouldn't mind hanging out with, but I don't know if they feel the same, and do I ask if they want to hang out?

I'm always saying that we are all connected. How did this disconnected feeling creep in once I left school? I have friends back home, and we stay in touch. I am currently 400 miles away from home, however, and I crave stimulating conversation, shared experiences, and companionship. I don't think making friends has to be as difficult as adults make it. Watch children. When there is more than one of them, they gravitate towards each other. They are still able to feel the connection. They don't even introduce themselves, they just get to interacting. I find myself creating strategies for making friends because it is vital in order for me to thrive in my new environment.   I am longing for the playground right now.