Black Girls Be This: a Meditation on Holy Week and HB-2

This week is the holiest of holy weeks in the Christian faith. With Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Resurrection (or Easter) Sunday, it is supposed to be a time of honoring the greatest sacrifice made and a celebration of renewal. Newness. But one cannot bask in the Great Re-Do without first taking ownership and account of what has been done.

Last night, in the moments before the new day, North Carolina Governor Pat McCrory signed HB-2 into law, effectively eliminating anti-discrimination regulations that protect those in the LGBTQ communities and veterans. Many North Carolinians responded with #WeAreNotThis and while I understand the sentiment, the truth is, we are. And we always have been.

#WeAreThat when we ridicule the little boy who likes playing with dolls. #WeAreThat when the little girl mentions a boy from school and we immediately ask if that’s her boyfriend. #IAmThat when both of my examples use gender roles that exist on a socially constructed binary and #YouAreThat if you didn’t even notice until I pointed it out.

So, yes. We are this. Our state is this. The world is this. And just as the people of Golgotha were all #GoJesus on Sunday, I’m sure they would have called you a bald-faced liar if you tried to tell them that they would be #CrucifyHim on Friday. They would have sworn that #WeAreNotThis. And yet…

But as a Christian woman, I have to believe in a God of renewal and resurrection; a God that can empower us to live a life worth hashtagging. Because as Reverend Lisa Yebuah of Edenton Street United Methodist Church says, “what God can do in us, God can do through us.” So we will be the ones that ask and honor folks’ preferred gender pronouns. We will be the ones to let our children grow and develop without shackling them to gender roles. We will be the ones to let everyone cry and everyone get dirty and everyone play sports if they so choose and love who they so choose and pee where they so choose. We are not this yet, but with intentionality, communication, re-education and most importantly, Love, #WeCanBe.

This post was inspired by the sermon preached by Rev. Lisa Yebuah at Edenton Street United Methodist Church on Sunday, March 20th, 2016.

Black Girls be Articulating their Pain

Today I tweeted, “Someone I love is turning into someone I dont like and its breaking my heart.”  I didnt say anything else about it, just left it at that. But there is so much more to it.

There is a man that I love. Would lay my life down for without a second thought.  I’ve watched him grow and turn into this man that has so much promise and I would do anything to help him prosper.  And he is breaking my heart. And he doesnt even know it.  Because he hates himself and if he hates himself than it must mean that he hates me because he and me are one. Because he’s my brother.

I dont know when it happened or what caused it.  All I know is that somewhere along the way someone told him or he convinced himself that Black is not beautiful and the closer to whiteness the better.  He’s dating a lovely white girl and Im glad he’s found someone to love and that loves him in return is awesome but that doesnt replace his love for his own Black self.

I think what hurts me the most is all the unsaid things.  He only compliments white women on their looks, their hair.  He only calls little White children cute.  If we go somewhere and there are a lot of white people there, he immediately assumes it is nice and acts appropriately.  We waited for him to put the tree topper on the tree and he even complained that there wasnt a White angel!  So if White is right and beautiful doesnt that make this lil Black girl ugly and wrong?

I dont know what to do about it but it concerns me because even if he has children with a woman that is clear as glass, his children will still be Black and they will be treated as such.  I dont want him to propel his hate unto others.  Nor will I allow him to make me feel less than, no matter who he is.

Maybe its a stage and he will grow out of it. I really hope he matures and sees the error of his ways and finds that love that he so desperately needs. Until then I have to find a way to marry my disgust and my devotion, my love and my loathing.

 

Black Girls Be Packing

She had waited a long time for this day but in that moment in seemed like she never had enough time at all.  She took a deep breath and checked the chest one last time. Linens, sheets, her one church dress, her good shoes all there.  The pot she saved all summer for and her rolling pin.  She asked him if he had one at the house already and he said, “No.  Cant say that I do. And if I do I dont know where it is.” “What kind of kitchen doesn’t have a rolling pin?” she asked herself as she stuffed it in the chest betwinxt her shoes and her white sheets.  She had packed this chest for such an occasion as this and was still unprepared. It lacked mini ruffled socks and gloves for precious hands and feet, but how could she know? She fingered the fabric she stalked until it was discounted with the distinct plan of making the only white dress she would wear. She always thought it would be so sweet for her daughters to wear the scraps of her dress in their hair as bows; she just didnt think it would be so soon.

She married that man, moved into his house and raised his kids. And dont you know, 75 years later it was the rolling pin and not the linens that her great granddaughter used.

Black Girls be Mourning the End of Summer

I am a Summer Baby! I love the warm weather and I was made for beaches and tropical drinks with umbrellas. So celebrate the end of another great summer here is Summertime Anthem by Eric Roberson. And if you look real close, squint and hit your pause button you will peep the Blue Black Girl in her video girl debut. Check me at the 1:07 mark and the 1:38 mark cuz Black Girls be famous.

Black Girls Be Spiritual

I am a spiritual person. I believe there is a higher being and that we are all connected to a universal source.  I am also a Christian, raised in a Christian household and reared in a society whose rules are based in Judeo-Christian ethics.  I am a product of my environment.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with Mother Blue Black and she mentioned that a certain presidential candidate said that he cried tears of joy when the ban of Black priests was lifted by the Mormons.  Not only do I not believe that he cried tears of joy, I still am not convinced that he was built with the capabilities to emote.
But I digress…

So I responded, I don’t know how a Black person can be a Mormon.  Immediately after saying that I had to admit to myself that some people wonder how a Black person can be a Christian, especially here in America. (This is the part where you read the first section again) And sometimes I have my own problems with faith.

I have had many a conversation with many a people and ultimately I had to decide what I believed. *Not my mother, not my father but its me Oh Lord…* And here is what I have come up with:
I believe in God. I believe in all paths to God. I believe that God is love and anywhere that love is, God abounds.  And I believe that on a planet where not only do we disagree on whether Coke or Pepsi is better, there are some people who think cola is gross and then some who have never even tasted soda. So how could we all agree on one deity!? But again I am a Christian because I was raised to be so. I prescribe to The Golden Rule and choose to disregard the misogynistic, slave-holding and sexually repressive passages of the Old Testament.  Its my faith, my path and my choice.

*Some things in the world they make me mad, but its alright*

Being a Christian, I am often disheartened by the travesties that are committed in the name of God. Sometimes I think we should replace God with Love and see if statements still makes sense. “I am discriminating against you in the name of Love!” “Love is punishing you for your unholy acts!” “Love hates…” But wait. Love can’t hate. That is oxymoronic and nonsensical and just dont make no sense. Maybe then it will seek in.

This was not the post I intended to write but sometimes it beez like that.  I blame a conversation I had with a dear friend and the cloudy day.  I also blame the divisive and downright scary political climate.  And Im just another Blue Black Girl trying to find her way.

Choose love ya’ll. Choose love.

Black Girls Be Feeling Some Kinda Way: Fireman Sam

Ok so in a recent post I briefly mentioned that I sorta kinda not really may have a teensy weensy bit of feelings about this guy that I met online that I donned Fireman Sam (If you are a Black Girl Blue vet you know how I like to nickname my “potentials” even though none of them have lasted past two posts. Hmmmm I need to reflect on some thangs.) Anyway, well in this new found venture of “learning how to date” I have been trying to play “THE GAME.”  You know, dont kiss on the first date, wait 3 days to call, let the man make the first move… blah, blah, blah.  I dont necessarily prescribe to any of these “rules’ as the recipe for success.  In fact, I find them quite patriarchal but I am trying something new because most of my past relationships have gone something like this:

I like you. Do you like me? No? Ok. Moving on

OR

I like you. Do you like me? Yes? Let’s be together. You’re not ready for that? Ok Moving on.

OR

I like you. Do you like me? Yes? Let’s be together. Ok? Ok.

This has my modus operandi.  Why you ask. Great question! Because I am assertive, strong-willed, determined and when I see something that I want I go after it. Period.  And it doesnt help that even though I stand at a self-proclaimed 5’2″ in my mind I am a 6’5″ 280lb big black man with like a 13’… well you get the picture. I am a big person with a big personality that doesnt understand no and thinks its a sin to miss an opportunity.  This has done wonders for my professional life! But my personal one, eh, not so much.

So back to Fireman Sam.  I haven’t really been cataloging my online dating woes but since I havent come up here slinging flowers and quoting Stevie Wonder lyrics its pretty safe to assume that I havent found THE ONE.  I’ve gone a few dates but I havent felt that thing with anyone yet.

Then I went out with Fireman Sam.  We met at a little restaurant/bar near downtown and ate and drank a lil and talked for hours without it feeling like hours.  I was smiling and he was smiling and we were smiling and it felt nice.  Shoot, it felt nice to feel something.  We got ice cream cones and I even went to his apartment.

Now lets stop right there for a moment.  I know it is not the smartest thing to do on a first date.  But I think I am a pretty decent judge of character and I am very aware of my surroundings.  But Im sure women who have been chopped up in little pieces thought the same things. *Le sigh* Ok guys, I wont do that again. Scouts honor!

So we are at his apartment that was admittedly VERY bachelory. (Bachelory- full of character, see also messy) We started watching Kill Bill and switched to Deathproof and at midnight he sang Happy Birthday to me and we took a shot.  I was cuddled in his arms and he kissed my forehead and rubbed my cheek and it was so very… nice.  But I’m a “good girl” so I left before my night time nature took hold.  And yes, I floated home.  The next night I spent a few late night hours with him and again his energy was great.  And at the end of the night he kissed me.  I wont say that fireworks went off or anything but there was definitely a spark.

So the next day I decide not to call or text him to see if he would contact me.  He didnt. I let the entire day pass, which is big for me. The following day I text him and the conversation is lackluster.  Later that night I was out with my family at the Durham Bulls game and he texts me… Im gonna let you see it for yourself.

Ummm….. what?

To which I responded, “No. I don’t. But I respect your honesty. It was fun nevertheless.” And all his 29-year-old wisdom and maturity he ended the conversation with “;,)” Is that a cry face? Are you 14? Is this real life?

IS THIS REAL LIFE?

So I did what any warm blooded American woman would do in this situation, I screenshot the conversation and sent it to my two best girl friends.  After we laughed at the audacity of it all, I searched them for answers and I searched myself.  I am glad that he told me within a week what his intentions were.  It saved me a whole lot of time, energy, heart-space and gas (and we all know gas aint cheap).  I am also proud that I stuck to my guns and my morals when I was with him.  My actions and energy made it clear that I was not easy conquest and would not be satisfied as another notch in his bedpost nor as just another woman holding his fire hose. (See what I did there? There may be some more bad fireman puns coming your way. You have been warned.)

But I must admit that I was a little hurt, a little disappointed. I actually felt something with him, and I havent felt anything for anyone, especially anyone knew in at least a year and a half.  I miss the feeling.

But all in all I m glad that everything went the way it did because if he had waited a couple months or a year and THEN told me he was a manwhore I would have had to set his house on fire, while he was at work. LOL I kid. But can you imagine being a firefighter and getting a call and its to your address? Awkwarddd! Nevertheless, I hope he is keeping his pole clean cuz there’s no telling how many people have slid down it.