View From My Bubble

I got opinions. Lots of 'em. Mostly on fashion, pop culture, girl power, current events, music and sometimes politics. Edited but unfiltered. Silence is NOT Golden.

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Give Us Free

I have always resented the freedom that white people feel and have. As black folk we are socialized to move through this world cautiously, at times shrinking ourselves and our personalities so that others don’t feel threatened. Reckless abandon is not necessarily in our repertoire. However, over the past few decades we, as a collective, have been experiencing increasing levels of freedom. Not limitless but more than those that came before us.

As I watched The Affair (the Showtime series), this came to mind. One of the characters, Cole, has his dad’s custom wooden surfboard. There’s more to the story but this alone pushed me down the rabbit whole of existential thoughts, one dovetailing to the next. I thought, wow, what freedom to be able to just go surfing in the 60s like that. My mom would never. Folks didn’t want us in pools with them, much less beaches. The Civil Rights Act was helpful but there was still an invisible line in the sand. You never knew who was friend or foe. Many people, like my mom, would choose to err on the side of caution.

As a child and teenager, we vacationed quite a bit. But I had never been to places like Destin, Gulf Shores, Orange Beach, which I recently learned that this is called the Redneck Riviera. Ohhhhh, so this is probably why mom never mentioned this before. I had never even heard of these places to be honest. We had been to Dallas, San Francisco, Chicago, New York, Grand Canyon, Delaware, The Alamo and even across the border to Juarez. Plus both Disneyworld AND Disneyland. But never any of these places. Not even Biloxi though I knew my mom and her friends had been to Biloxi and Arkabutla Lake many times. I presume these were “safe spaces.”

There was freedom to travel like she didn’t have a child but I see now that there were some places she wasn’t fooling with. Now, my mom is a way more cautious person than I am. Which I totally get. She came of age in Memphis during the midst of a lot of unrest – the sanitation strikes, Dr. King’s assassination and so on. But she was also in the second wave of black students of what’s now the University of Memphis. She had to endure taunting and threats and separate facilities and legally enforced restricted spaces. My daughter and I go the University Club (country club) with friends fairly often. However, my mom is very uninterested in this place. She has been once or twice however at my insistence. On the other hand, I stroll in there like WHATEVA. Surprisingly no one ever really stops me. Side note – the highlight of my life was when our families went to dinner there and the waiter asked ME for my member number. I don’t even care if it was sincere or not. Seemed so and it was a very cool feeling. I’m like shiiiiid I’m living the dream when a waiter assumes I’m carrying the bill for 8 folks at a country club. Dr. King is like, my living was not in vain!

It was a little thing but a big thing. But there are so many other freedoms that folks take for granted. We know full well that we don’t move through this world with impunity like white folk do. For instance, white fraternities face way milder consequences for unspeakable actions than black fraternities do for way milder infractions. Though I have to say in college, me and my homegirls were the only chicks that threw a kegger at our apartment, including a couple hundred bucks in liquor! So that was a kind of freedom!

Seriously, black folks always say, white folks are NUTS. But deep down we wish we had some of that freedom to do stupid shit. Maybe we wouldn’t make the same choices or be as reckless but maybe we would, say, go surfing more often. My friend (white dude) was surprised that I had never been mudding. I was like, are you fucking crazy???! First of all, this assumes that perhaps I had white friends then. Nope. Only one, really. Cause we did not mix it up like that at this time. But picture this: a gaggle of black kids off roading on the outskirts of town, wooping it up and making noise. In the late 80s, early 90s. Yeah. You already know. - Nah. Hard pass. I didn’t have a fear of the police then (not now either, at least not in Memphis – East Tennessee YES) but I have never been that big a fool.

Fast forward to now where it feels like progress is being erased. I find us, black folks, heading back toward a less free space. Not quite like before but there is still an awareness and cautiousness that is creeping around the edges of our newfound liberation. But there is also a newfound power thanks to advances in phone technology (cameras, video) in tandem with social media. While it doesn’t take away a bad experience, make a rogue cop or “cowboy” stand down or eradicate the need to always have your wits about you, it does not allow for people to operate without repercussions (as much). But then…there’s the contingent of white folks that say “things are different! You have protections now…” and this and that. Or the opposite, this person has the right to question him or her or call the police. But when the tables of turned on Permit Patty, BBQ Becky and nem – river of white tears. I see all sorts of stuff with people saying that what we experience isn’t real. So basically, we aren’t entitled to feel the way we feel about a negative experience? You wanna take that freedom too? The freedom to feel. Lemme tell ya. These experiences are very real. And these feelings are valid whatever they are. And WE DON’T HAVE TO FORGIVE NO DAMN BODY. We need to scrub that shit from the Black Christian handbook. You can hold on to that hatred/disdain/disgust as long as you need to. That’s another form of shrinking yourself and not acknowledging your true feelings.Though at some point, we all must let hate go before it rots us from the inside out. 

 Nope. It’s ok to wish death or 3rd degree acid burns on someone who harmed you or your family. Perhaps not legal to do so. But thoughts aren’t legislated. I honestly wish death on George Zimmerman every time I see his stupid, remorseless prick ass face. And Trayvon isn’t even remotely related to me. Ok, maybe not death but the most relentless beatdown known to man. With his souvenir gun he keeps trying to sell. Pistol whip him with that. He is filth. A garbage ass human.

Anyway. I digress. Long story short, hold on to your freedom. Fight for it. Take it if you must. And know that Second Amendment rights apply to EVERYONE. Now. Who wants to go surfing?

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Who’s the Bawse?

I have been thinking about this notion of being a bawse bitch and the varying interpretations of what that is. It came up again for several reasons  – I’m reading Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay (Yes still. But do run not walk to your local bookstore or cop it here: https://www.amazon.com/Bad-Feminist-Essays-Roxane-Gay/dp/0062282719); I was tagged this recent post by #MLK50 ; 

and I peeped that bawseness of the previous two weeks’ episodes of How To Get Away With Murder. This one here….

BAAAAWWWWWSE.

 I watched this past Thursday’s episode of How To Get Away With Murder when homegirl said, “I’m a bawse.” I said, “Yasssss. Do it sista.” Cause she really is. Her character on the show is a force, a power player, a women who’s stomping with the big dawgs, making her male colleagues’ balls rescind. LOVE. IT. Loves bawse bitches  and bawse moves. As you can see, my interpretation is more Cathy Hughes and Michelle Obama than Keyshia K’yaori and Taylor Swift. Whether you agree or not, you get what ahmsayin.

I have never considered myself a bawse. Never. But maybe I should. Maybe I should give myself more credit because there are no absolutes. We could probably stand to expand our definitions of bawse to make room for the ones who make silent moves, and those who are bosses in their micro-environment. What about those women? Subtle, silent moves should not be discounted. Bawse moves aren’t always bold in the traditional sense. Sometimes they are bold in the “do what you gotta do” sense. Sometimes it’s standing by your man. Sometimes it’s running the hell out of your household –moms damn sure are bawses. Do you know how hard it is to keep a not dirty house (much less pristine) without a housekeeper, clean children and sheets, neat yard, flower bed, cook most days and be not-so-late for school drop off and pick up especially when you are trying to work too? Chile!

Bawse moments aren’t all pernicious or sinister in nature, as TV would have us believe. They don’t all involve a take down or a glorious, grand comeuppance.  Real life can be, but usually isn’t, a made for TV drama. I know art imitates life, blah blah.  Oftentimes, for me, it can mean making bawse moves on behalf of others or for the greater good – warriors for the local or global community. There are many times where we –women – are the invisible hand.

There are some other common threads here – fearlessness, leadership and carrying out this performance as “woman” on your own terms. Whatever that looks like. But fearlessness or perhaps a willingness to use that fear as fuel, is a bawse trait. The conventional wisdom per both men and women used to be that you have to sacrifice your feminine spirit to be a true player in the game at the highest levels. Basically asexual.  (See: Hillary and her power pantsuits) Some of that still holds true but more and more I see women being women, not adopting what are considered to be male characteristics to gain entrée/access/favor/success.  You can be sexy as hell without looking inappropriate or sleeping with anyone for professional gain. You can be self-possessed and balls to the wall confident in high heels. You can be vulnerable, though you still canNOT cry at work. Like real talk, you can’t do that unless it’s a campaign tactic (again, see: Hillary). Otherwise something super tragic went down and you’re a lady police chief. But even then not an ugly cry. Just moist eyes or that one solitary tear. Also your makeup. TV….No. LOL!

That’s a somewhat tangential conversation that could easily spawn a dissertation. The point is, it’s your prerogative. You get to choose how you bawse. To be honest, there is some tucking in that goes on. Errbody don’t need to know errthang right? But generally, however you identify – ciswoman or something else – being a bawse bitch to me means you choose you. You can wear a dress and be a bawse. You can have braids and be a bawse. You can have kids and still be a bawse at work (and at home). You can be a stay-at-home mom and be a bawse. You can have emotional range and be a bawse – yes you can feel stuff without it diminishing your logic or decision-making ability. You can choose to be out front or you can choose to lead from the back. The whole point is that your method of bawse-ness is YOUR CHOICE. Not anyone else’s. Taking ownership of that is….well…bawse. It may be good, bad or ugly but own it. We are allowed to fail just like our male counterparts. The road to being a bawse bitch is paved with failures. But so what? Doesn’t matter how as long as you bawse TF up. Period.

In closing remember this,, one of my most favorite-est quotes: 

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All Hail the Power of the P

Can we start here?  

For fuck's sake DAMMIT can we touch and agree on this?  This argument is so STUPID. And a FUCKING FALSE EQUIVALENT. I realize that everything and just about everyone is fair game in an election cycle, especially one as bitter and contentious as this one. Especially when you got Petty Grable/Petty White/Petty Duke Austin/Petty Lamarr (EVERY DAMN PETTY except Petty Pendergrass cause no to any parallel to this man’s pimpin) on deck spitting his usual non-information information and perpetuating the dumbing down of America, or as Steve Schmidt so perfectly stated, intellectual rot.  He who shall not be named in this piece is the emperor and impetus of the resulting anti-intellectual movement that's afoot.

What if we judged male candidates, particularly this one, on their WIVES?  Instead of their merits and credentials? Just what if? Not even exes. Ahem...Exhibit A. 

 Was she "so Presidential" in this spread? [Seriously, no pun intended] I’m not going to even start down the path of if this was Michelle Obama... or if Barack had 5 kids and 3 baby mamas...Ugh. Forget it.  

Keep repeating to self....

I can tell you now that neither he who shall not be named in this piece’s  “credentials” or his choice of wife would win my vote. That is all.

But what if Hillary made it her business to once elected to check her receipts re: her path to citizenship? Questionable. What if Hillary did a deep dive into her "modeling" career? How many high end pimps and johns would tumble out? Just because it's expensive Slavic Barbie p-- doesn't change the nature of the transaction. I don't know much about this woman and don't have the inclination to do the digging. But alls ahmsayin is what if the double standard were reversed? No one is talking about whether Melania is appropriate as a first lady. Or digging up dirt to have her deported or he who shall not be named arrested on tax fraud.  Or, to peg it back to his rhetoric, how absolutely backasswards it is that she barely speaks English and he.s talking walls and deportation and such. Unhunh I see. Brown immigrants then. Did some broke, brown man steal your lady? Or is it just purely ignorance and xenophobia? 

But I digress. This is bigger than a fear of a black or brown D and Birth of A Nation (the turn of the century racist garbage movie) style depictions of black and brown rapists. Can we talk about Power of the P? And put some respeck on that thang? Its power has crippled many a-man (Ok, so Bill Clinton applies here), taking him down to his knees, tarnishing reputations and legacies. Without even trying.  And in some cases, like this election for instance, it elicits a deep-seated fear which in turn unleashes rabid ignorance and sexism as described above. The comments and the “jokes” are, well, deplorable. Grab them by the p*ssy? That says to me, metaphorically,that you want to snatch power, usurp our strength, take our agency. And literally that sexual assualt and rape culture are ok. But this is only a reminder that we have do indeed have power, ladies. And not just in the seat of our panties. No way. I’m not reducing us to genitalia. We have the power of our minds, the power of the pen and most importantly the power of the ballot. We are enfranchised! Moreover, we are more often than not the gatekeepers in our homes. We are more often than not the person who molds the children and therefore the future of our country. Most of us do our level best to put forth into the world respectful citizens who contribute to the greater good of this country, helping to MAINTAIN its greatness. This is the power of the P. 

We have talked of this ad nauseum but it bears repeating, why is this woman, who is inarguably the most qualified candidate EVER,  subjected to this low level of discourse? No man would ever be subjected to this. Never. There has never been so much vulgarity and crude language in any election. Ever.  Why does she have to suffer this fool? With his unintelligent and, at times, unintelligible babble. I tell ya, the power of the P has clearly got ‘em quaking. When your big gun, emails aside, is Hillary’s husband? And that she intimidated some of his heaux? I’m going to go out on a limb and say, So fuckin what? I know it isn’t right but don’t you all say she’s not human or relatable enough? You can’t have it both ways. This is nothing else if not human frailty. What woman hasn’t been cheated on? [Stop lying!]  What woman hasn’t made a phone call to another one? Phone checked your man? Broke into emails? There are some of you more common type folk who picked a fistfight or had that woman’s credit cards or electric cut off. You know it’s true. Don’t tell that godless lie! Who hasn’t subsequently stayed after being embarrassed within your respective circle(s) because of financial reasons, children or most likely in Hill’s case, ambition? [STOP LYING!!]

Nonetheless, this man and his fidiot nation are waving the big white, blood spattered flag of white male privilege in our faces. Shamelessly. So whatchu gone do? Not voting is not an option for anyone with a lick of sense. He and his coven cannot continue to operate with impunity. 

Women can rise up and turn this thing around.

“If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down, all alone...together women ought to be able to turn it rightside up again.”

~Aint I A Woman, Sojourner Truth

All hail the power of the P!!   Cause we got the power hunny. We can't be afraid to wield it. You can try to grab my p*ssy but you gone learn ta-day. Kitty got claws. And fangs bish. 

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Why Folks Ain’t Here For Alicia’s “Movement”

Bless her po lil heart. She means well I presume. But this needs to be said. 

I can't speak for all.of blackdom. I can only speak for me. I am not here for Alicia's no makeup "movement." Why, you say? This is a feminist stance, you say. Very pro-woman, take me as I am.  Sure yeah, on some level. But there are so many reasons this is a no. It's not about the makeup. At all. At least not for me. People think it’s a makeup issue. Maybe for the most basic among us but the discussions among my friends is much different. 

I could really just throw up a photo collage and that would be enough said. Like so: 

Nope. Grazia France you tried it. Though admittedly this is one of the better Mama Africa looks. 

Nawl....just nawl girl. This wrap-growth. 

SIGH. 

Nonetheless let's add some fun verbiage shall we? Here are the (MY) reasons in a simple, easy to understand format: 

1) This is a psuedo movement (imo). Because Badu and India Arie have BEEN on this. For YEARS. Never said a peep. Never created a hashtag (Ok this was mostly pre social media, hashtags and such), never made it a thing. They just did what they did without making a fuss, to hell with yall. Love me or leave me bih.  They did it because they felt bigger and better than the "industry standard," which is to say they shunned being basic bitches. Without seeking approval or affirmation from the adoring fans. Oh and our perfect pinup, the very definition  of black girl magic, Lupita. She goes au naturel periodically. Again, without a peep. Just does.

2) Those wraps boo. Who did this and where are her girl- or gay friends? Any naturalista type friends?  Did they flee the scene after you pulled up on the woman's husband before the ink was dry? Does she have a stylist? Like, what is happening up there. It's like a deformed, curl not quite right unicorn. If you'll notice, hair is wrapped with lighter weight, ergo less bulky, scarves to make a lovely petite (-er than this) rosette up top. But that growth she got going on up there...nah sis. Not being mean. This is a public service announcement. Really, truly. Find some authentically bohemian gf’s. 

3) Is this her interpretation of what being "natural" is? As a natural sista I am offended. Cmon girl. Really? The natural look is still...A LOOK. There is some effort that goes into it. And most folk aren't rocking the TLC style 90s look neither. Again, where is her stylist??? Where is black Jesus? Help her figure this thang out. Being natural doesn't equal being a hot mess. Just smooth it out girl.

4) Last but not least, this transition was abrupt for the public. She did a swift U-turn and came through as Mama Africa Bambaata all of a sudden? I don't know what traumatic event led to this --none of my beeswax anyway --but whoa Nelly. I mean it was a fashion non-sequitor. No prep, no transitional statement. Everyone is entitled to change and/or evolve but I don't really get this.

But the biggest thing is, this is not a thing. It's just not. I think that's why people aren't here for it or for her. Not at all about going sans the usual spackle. It just feels very inauthentic. Who's to say what this woman is feeling. All I know it what it feels like to me.

That is all.

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Damn Kim!

One of my FB friends posted this today, with a strict warning not to post jokes on his timeline: 

http://www.theroot.com/blogs/the_grapevine/2016/04/lil_kim_s_face_isn_t_anything_to_laugh_at.html

But friends, when I saw this...THIS....

I found not space for laughter.  I could summon forth no words. I was “bereft of utterances” as Kyle would say on Living Single. My heart sank. This is Lil Kim. LIL KIM. Cute as pie Kimberly Jones from Junior Mafia. 

My initial response was, you’re joking right?  On the heels of Prince passing, I felt like I was in mourning all over again. We have lost her. She gone. And it is our fault as a collective. Her immediate community failed her. As I read through the post from The Root, Yesha Callahan (the writer) pulled out this quote from an earlier article: 

“All my life men have told me I wasn’t pretty enough—even the men I was dating. And I’d be like, ‘Well, why are you with me, then?’” It’s always been men putting me down just like my dad. To this day when someone says I’m cute, I can’t see it. I don’t see it no matter what anybody says.”

I can’t imagine why anyone would tell her these things. She is - was - a cute lil somethin. Raunchy, supa dupa hood, no doubt. But cute as she could be. Now we see the effects of years of damage. It starts at a young age. It made me flash back to when I was younger. I am all too familiar with these feelings of being aesthetically insufficient. But I never felt like I wanted to change myself. OK, truth. Other than my hair. I wanted flouncy bouncy curls so badly! Finally found a white towel to throw up in my 20s as it was just never gonna happen. Neither was long hair! Also figured that I would look so crazy with too much hair. I’m good as is! Just wish I was as “fat” now as I thought I was then! :)

As a child and growing up through my teens, I was called everything from ink spot to skillet. One of those insults came from a boy darker than me that wore blue contacts. I don’t know why I didn’t have the wherewithal at the time to read his ass for filth. JD 2K would tear him a new asshole. I mean wear that ass out till I got tired. But the point is, I can access her pain from a first person POV. I have come home from school in tears many times, having been teased about my skin color or just being targeted by mean girls. Some of them, if I see them to this day, will not say a word to me. Which is comical, and doubly so because I don’t know why they hated me so in the first place. Because I liked a boy who didn’t event like me back? Girl BYE. 

I rarely, if ever, spoke to my mother about it. I  just soldiered through. My mother would only say, “Those girls are jealous!” I’m looking at her like, woman you’re talking crazy! Mostly because I have never understood or been able to access jealousy. Which leads to all kindsa crazy internal shenanigans.  I too considered what I’d look like if I was light skinned. I thought my life would be better, easier. That I’d be universally considered pretty. I would try to imagine myself as a lighter skinned version of me-- because I didn’t see anything else “wrong” with my face. But try as I might, I couldn’t imagine myself being lighter. Light skinned me looked crazy in my mind. So I abandoned this line of thinking early on. I was 9. Then I finally realized that I was pretty in 8th grade. My teachers were encouraging me to model, boys liked me and BAE told me I looked like Whitney Houston (that was the pimp juice back then hunny!). BUT I never felt fully on fleek, as you all say, because of all the other toxic bullshit that continued to lurk at the corner of my consciousness. At the VERY least, I didn’t get it at home or from other adults. Perhaps that was my saving grace. Kim didn’t even get affirmed at home or by other adults. 

[Side note: There are more indirect offenses like teachers favoring or coddling the kids who were light-skinned with curly “good” hair or demonizing black boys, labeling them and treating them like “bad seeds.” Yet they handle other kids roughly. I wasn’t used to that kind of treatment so my mother would quickly get them together.  And this was at the black school with black teachers. There are some instances on the flip side picking on lighter skinned kids but that’s another tangent. And being on the clear opposite end of the spectrum, quite obvi not my firsthand experience!]

So maybe I just lucked out. I had people in my corner who could mitigate damage they could only assume was there, since I wasn’t talking about it. I had advocates at home and anywhere else, if the situation demanded. My dad called my mom “black fox” and me “black china doll.” I have “chinky” eyes too, especially when I laugh. Those affirmations would become important to me, more than I even knew at the time, in how I moved through life as an adult and how I regard my daughter. My lil chocolate drop has yet to experience this. But I know she will one day, which hurts me already So I try to build her up as much as I can. Everyone around her - mom, dad, nana, friends, church members. We love on her and tell her how beautiful she is. And she is, no bias, no bull. I make sure I pass compliments on to her. I make her tell me at least once a day, “Who’s the pretty baby?” (I know she is 7 but she’s MY baby!!)

All of this to say, learning to love yourself in the midst of socio-cultural madness and ignorance is no small feat. It’s an uphill climb with a boulder strapped to your back. Sometimes you fall down. Sometimes you have to start again. This struggle is about more than just who you are innately. It’s having a support system, somewhere. People who you trust and who you believe when they tell you that you’re pretty or smart or able. Realizing that some girls, and believe it or not more than a few grown ass women, ARE in fact jealous of you. You may not see it or understand it. But they could be envious of your light, your talent, your freedom in life, your fashion sense, your family life and yes, your looks. 

Moral of the story: Let no man or woman tear you down. The men in Kim’s life were miserable fucks who needed to find an easy target to make equally miserable. This tragic picture is the result of years of negative indoctrination by and the slave mentality of the people who were supposed to love and protect her. RIP Kimberly Jones from Brooklyn. My heart goes out to you girl. And the other women who are following in her footsteps, muddied by little brown girl tears. You can’t unring the bell now but I hope this ghost of Kimberly Jones girl will come to and take care not to transfer this pathos to her kid. And maybe one days he will realize that Kim from the block wasn’t so bad. 

A little Xtina...I sing this to my lil one. It’s good for the big girls too.

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAfyFTzZDMM

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Rainy Days (Metaphor Coming in 3, 2...)

Right now it’s rainy season here. It’s dreary and soggy. And will be this way off and on until around Memorial Day. Three full months. As I looked out of my window today, I thought about the forecast as it relates to life. This morning the weather guy said it will clear up today. I’m looking at the gloomy sky thinking, “But how Sway? How?” The sun seemed to be nowhere in sight behind all of those thick clouds and grayness. This IS alot like life. 

I have been thinking and posting alot about mental health issues and depression here lately. It’s therapeutic as much as it is a PSA for others. We sometimes feel stuck in this perpetual rainy season -- and forgive this simplistic metaphor -- but it is cyclical. After the rain, comes beautiful sunny days. Look what the rain does. It cleanses, allows for growth, creates atmospheric balance. The sames as the rainy season does in our lives. It may be hard to see this, especially if the cycle is looooong, but it still holds true. The sun is there. Waiting on it’s turn.

To extend the metaphor a bit further, I ask, what happens when we don’t get enough rain? Think summertime in the South. We need to a sprinkler system to keep our vegetation alive. To translate that to our lives, we need outside help. And that’s ok. If we can’t help ourselves, we have to seek it elsewhere. Professional help. Certified counselors who can give you more than a prayer cloth and a list of scriptures to read. Prayer is great but sometimes it takes more. God tends to meet you halfway. Do for yourself! Go get the help. Get the meds if you need to. AND go get you some Jesus. All rainy seasons end, I promise. To use the oft misquoted Longfellow, into everyone’s life a little rain must fall. 

Here’s the correct quote and the full poem for your edification and mine: 

This was the perfect complement to what I was thinking about this morning. To myself and my friends: hang in, hang on till tomorrow!  Love ya!  

~J.

PS - I ‘ll leave you with this little bit of cuteness. (Click the link too!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlJXW_DplYQ

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And Madea for the win!

Soooo when they nominate a Tyler Perry Madea movie are yall gonna be mad? 

Hellurrrr!

Or Steve Harvey. Lol!! Really don't we know how this works by now?  Instead of making a real effort to include a quality movie or actor - or find a quality candidate for a job-- the Academy will find any low grade actor or film to prove a (false) point and therefore make diversity in Hollywood a punchline. I AM NOT saying that diversity/inclusion/equal access/equal coin isn't important. No, no, noooooo. It absolutely is. But I don't know that forcing their hand is gonna get it done the way we want it done. It works in many cases sure. Well it has in the past. But I feel a punchline coming on. I could be wrong. I hope I am. And really Tyler Perry is doing is thing, on his own terms. His coin and his decisions are his own. He knows he isn't putting out quality, Oscar/Emmy/Globe product. But he also knows that his bread gets buttered on the chitlin circuit, so to speak.

What I’m saying is that we have to find new strategies and tactics. Civil Rights-era stuff doesn’t work. The #blacklivesmatter protests worked because it was massive, blocked traffic and businesses and therefore impacted folks’ bottom line. Not to mention that it was buoyed by real time social media chronicling. It was very much so current. I don’t know what the solution is for Hollywood. I do know that boycotting movies ain’t it. This has zero to do with the way the voting body makes decisions. We are powerless by any stretch. We just have to find the right way to channel that power. 

I agree with both Jada and Aunt Viv (but girl please, the very valid message you have is getting lost under layers of 20 year old petrified bitter- lawd!). We can’t pander and beg and surrender our dignity That isn’t the way. Oscars and Globes bring about bigger checks no doubt, no matter how you were included (host, presenter, nomimee, etc). And you better believe they are making a list and checking it twice. They are the most powerful body in the film industry. So I’m thinking a boycott may be ill advised. Until we start owning some stuff and calling some shots, we kinda gotta play the game and wear the mask. Doesn’t mean you are shuffling and bowed. There is a way to walk the line without becoming a character in Hollywood Shuffle. Though the movie is still relevant and somewhat prophetic given the other criticism that folks levy -- we are only invited to the dance for portraying pimp, hoes, maids, mammies, violent abusers or other comfortable stereotypes. Valid, valid. But it is also mighty funny that folks get all black and mighty and righteous soul brotha/sista when they get snubbed by the Oscars. But where you when all of this other madness was going down soul brotha/soul sista? You were conspicuously silent when young black man after young black men were were slaughtered in the streets like stray animals. But that didn’t affect your checks. So yeah, the Oscars are the least of black folks’worries. 

Last but not least, please stop hating on people's coins. Let them get it how they get it as long as they aren't harming the next. And let them give back however they see fit. It doesn't make someone a "tom" because they don't do it the way you would. A parallel to consider: People also worship in whatever way feels natural. I am a silent tears, amen, hand waving sort. That's as publicly emotional as I get. But then there's the falling out, lost my wig, running laps type. Now granted I think this is a bit melodramatic (if you start talking in tongues I am leaving service FA SHO ) but I have to check my judgment because...feel it boo, do you. So Ms. Viola, Ms. Shonda and others you go get it. #OscarsSoWhite and nem have helped you gain a platform and a broader audience. I hope you use it wisely and responsibly. And keep changing the game! 

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FLOTUS is ROCKING in Narciso Rodriguez! #slay @michelleobama

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How about a poor AF defense?

So...affluenza. If there aint a bigger bunch of hooey and horse manuda. Poor little rich kid. What about poor little actually poor kids? In physics and most any other science, in spirituality and IRL, there are always opposite forces at play. Where there’s good, there’s evil; there are negative and positive ions; there’s darkness and light; you’re either a boy or a girl (most of the time). The list goes on and on. 

But look at this boy. LOOK AT HIIM. 

Let this sit with your spirit for a sec....I’ll wait. 

Now would you be trusting of this? Would you put this back on the street? 

Thought so. 

He is clearly unright. If folks don’t learn to wake up and smell the manuda and open their eyes to this particular brand of sociopathic unrightness, the blatant, remorseless slaughter of innocent people will continue to happen. 

 Calling all lawyers!  Circling back to theory of opposites, I propose a catchily named “poor AF” defense.  What about all of the teens who have received harsh, sometimes adult, sentences for crimes of poverty, subsistence and desperation to survive? Or those who have been surrounded by abject poverty and crime? They are what they see and what they experience. Not all but enough. They think, therefore they are. Maybe they bootstrap it. Maybe they emulate what’s around them and turn to gangs and crime for survival. Can we get this on the books for some impoverished teens who actually deserve a second chance? Versus enabling this douchetastic little prick who will no doubt continue to blaze a trail of death and destruction until either a) he kills himself or b) someone finally pumps a hot one in that azz. Neither are recommendations but certainly eventual outcomes IMO.

Let’s stay on enablers for a sec. The enablers are equally as guilty as the perpetrator. This includes the judge, the POS lawyer who dreamed this up and his idiot unglued mama who kept pumping him full of valium and putting him on a pedestal as her “protector”. No ma’am. YOU are supposed to protect him (not from the law the mind you) and RAISE him. Not the other way around. This does an incredible disservice to a child, not to mention puts a lot of undue pressure on a boy to be a man. We love to go HAM on single black mamas for making a boy “the man of the house,” essentially robbing him of his teenage years and forcing him to deal with adult issues before he is even an adult. But what of this? This is not OK. 

This boy has been allowed to live - and live well. He has been given the benefit of the doubt for a quadruple homicide! Black boy wouldn’t have made it to see another day and we all know it. At best, he would be under the damn jail. Rich or poor. That is, if he hadn’t already been profiled, pulled over and questioned about why he was driving an expensive SUV. So maybe that’s a moot point. He wouldn’t have gotten to that point. Wouldn’t have the luxury of driving a carload of teens bombed out of his skill because he’s already hip to the black tax or DWB. 

Now here’s what else I propose. Every rapper and athlete that gets into to trouble should cite the affluenza defense or perhaps the nouveaux riche defense (dig that fancy name hunh)? Then we’ll see how fast they find a “cure” for “affluenza.”  Dontcha think? Willing to lay odds on it. 

And all black folks who are able should go out and buy some guns while you’re at it. AND open carry. For shits and giggles. That way we can get some gun control measures on the books too. Just a side note. 

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Smitten AF

So you guys, I have been doing some incidental soul searching. Now I’m going to try to keep this as general and arbitrary as possible with little to no concrete identifiers. While i love mouthing off my opinions, I don’t like personal word vomit spillage. Anywho. The soul searching. There have been alot of people getting married these days -- and at my age or older. It is encouraging for a never-married such as myself. This, obvi, prompts a reevaluation of “the list” that all of us women carry around in her our heads. It’s actually both silly and necessary. I find that it keep you honest with yourself and with others. And helps you not to settle. Now I’m about to contradict myself. Twice. Contradiction #1: I also find that is can be a hindrance if you are too married to this list. I thought I’d risen above the basic list girls because I was not and am not super married to it and have boiled it down to a few non-negotiables. 

Then --contradiction #2 --I ran into a man I knew back in the day. I do not know what will happen there but seeing him reminded me of the possibilities for me. That there actually may be a lid to my pot even if it’s not him. I was also reminded of what it is I really want from a partner and that it can happen. In due time. I am sure that he is not actually the perfect romanticized version of himself that is stored in my brain. I didn’t get to be 40-sum by being completely stupid (though I have had my moments for sure). As I spent a little time with him, I felt myself swooning like a fool and all of those non-negotiables didn’t mean shit to me. Nada. If the starts were properly aligned (they are not), I wouldn’t give a shit what this man did, said, wore, ate, didn’t do, wouldn’t do, couldn’t do....you feel me. I mean it all went right out of the window. Because the connection was everything. And who he is at the core was appealing to me. I’m around here wanting to buy him drawz and a cool watch. LOL.  If his grill piece was jacked, I would take his ass to the dentist (Note: again, arbitrary. that actually is a non-negotiable. symbolic of other shit left unattended. so bear with my hyperbolic analogies.); if his gear was wrong, I’d take him shopping; if he was illiterate I’d get him hooked on phonics; if he had gold teefus, I’d fetch and take him back to said dentist; if he had saggy pants I’d cuss him out for being a grown man with saggy pants then go buy him a rack of grown man pants. Cause...FOH with that. If he had a jheri....welll that’s taking the hyperbole too far. LOL. Already pushed it with sagging pants.

But isn’t that a mess? Yet it all came to together for me in the midst of the all of those tangled webs of emotion. So I am thankful for the lesson in the blessing. It stirred something in me and woke up something I previoiusly thought was 6 feet under. The lightning bolt effect. It felt great to walk in that rarefied air, even if it was fleeting. Not event gonna over think this par my usual. Not even thinking at all. Just feeling, which is really really unusual. I know that soul searching is by definition thinking, pondering if you will or may. But this is in general. Not in the should I call-should he call-let’s make a plan type of vein. In my mind, it will remain the very beautiful, very organic encounter that it was/is.

What happens next?  Or at all?  Anybody’s guess. But I am the chillest I’ve ever been. And I’m a verrrry chill chick. :) Either way I’m excited for the next chapter. It opened me up to the universe as it relates to all of those emotions that frighten me. I am open to you universe. Bring it on. 

J. 

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Taye Diggs, R. Kelly and the boycott laundry list

🚫🚫🚫 As a self-respecting black person/woman/human being, there are so many people we are supposed to boycott as per the social media police. Or we risk alienation and becoming a social media pariah. I have seen lots of R. Kelly posts since the Soul Train Awards. Then just now I saw a commercial for Mark Wahlberg 's new movie with Will Ferrell. So who's the keeper of the running list. We got : 1) Mark Wahlberg. Violent racist. 2) R. Kelly. Must we elaborate? But conflicted nonetheless. 3) BET. Except Being Mary Jane though. 4) Weezy. Deragatory/ignorant comments about dark skinned women, including his own daughter. 5) Kevin Hart -- see above. 6) Woody Allen. Soon Yi. Gross. 7) Urban Outfitters. Racist CEO. Nope. Zara. Profiling as policy. Same for Barney's. 8) Throw in Elvis cause Priscilla was 16. And presumed black folks comments. Then Jerry Lee Lewis. 14 year old cousin. Ew. Incest much? 9) Taye Diggs. Deluded. Issues in his tissues about whatever brown girl hurt his feelings.But no Best Man though? 10) Rick Ross. Rapist. 11) Anthony Anderson. See above. Was this proven? No Blackish! Egads! 12) Bill Cosby. No Cosby Show or Different World. 13) Chris Brown. Enough has been said already. 14) Puffy. On principle. Dudes around him were going down. But miraculously not him. Hmmm. Which means boycotting Biggie songs would be collateral damage. 15) Angie Stone - busting up her daughter and knocking her teeth out. 16) Teddy Riley, Creflo Dollar. Busting up their daughters. 17) Kramer -- N word. Flag on the play! Scratch Seinfeld reruns. 18) Idris Elba- cheating on his preggers gf. With K. Michelle at that. Ouch right? 19) K. Michelle for willing engaging Idris. 20) Sean Connery for saying you gotta slap a woman to control her. Something like that. But whaaaat? 21) Morgan Freeman. Your step grandaughter. Really? 22) Tom Brady. Just cold left Bridget Moynihan while she was pregs. Classy 23) Charlie Sheen. Just passing out the HIV. C'mon man. 24) Dre. Beats by Dre literally. Throw Cube in for good measure because of the dumb comments about (wretched was it??) females that no damn near 50 year old man should be making. 25) Alicia Keys and Gabby Union. I mean was the ink dry when you swooped in? Bonus: Lee Daniels. Extra bonus: Subway. Cause Jared. Yikes. But the yoga mat bread is also pretty scary. Anyone else? I mean can we seriously boycott the Hoedashians? And Kanye too? And Caitlyn? Lawd all yall clowns take a few seats in a dark alley in a remote, obscure corner of the world with no lights, innanets, electricity or fiber optics for phone lines. Plsnthx! So what of the dudes that came up off the drug game (Jay Z included) or the Mob Wives franchise you all like to watch? They came up off other people's literal blood. See where I'm going? Not saying I agree or disagree with all or any of these. I'm all for righteous indignation and taking principled stands. For instance, I do not support any reality TV rubbish-- Love & Hip Hop, Basketball Wives, Housewives of anywhere. What ahmsayin is that this list would be so long that we'd be trapped at home with no music or TV and keeping our money in a jar. There is an ethical problem that can be found almost anywhere. We can't demonize one and turn a blind eye to the other for similar or equally offensive acts or behaviors. I personally love TP3 and Chocolate Factory, A Different World, Woody Allen movies, Blackish, The Best Man. Also love the Wing Stop (Rick Ross' joint). Louisiana Rub!!! But dig it, I find each and every namesake, owner, brand representative absolutely repulsive as humans. Deplorable. I am as repulsed by them personally as I am enamored of their talent. Or wings. And therein lies the rub. (No wing pun intended) Worth noting that I also just watched Brown Sugar for the zillionth time. Is it possible to just maaaaybe separate the man, or woman, from the art. To just enjoy the artistry and be entertained. I get so tired of thinking and so drained from the Laquan McDonald stories, from San Bernadino/Louisiana/Connecticut/Virginia State mass shootings, from every time Sarah Palin opens her mouth, from white privilege and double standards, from Donald Chump continuing to serge in the polls as an open racist and gleefully ill-informed ass hat with a bus load of pea-brained followers. Music, film, TV and books are about all I got. And I enjoy all of these art forms. Just saying we could rule out ALOT of people and therefore a lot of things. If this is the route, gotta be even-handed and consistent. None of these aforementioned sins is greater than the other. But I am going to continue on in this beautifully flawed, contradictory vein. Feel free to challenge and respectfully disagree. J.

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Amen somebody! #breastcancerawareness

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H&M's new campaign featuring Mariah Idrissi in her hijab. Kudos to #hm. 💖💖💞

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just educating the peeples....

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#Repost @theybfdaily ・・・ Just because we are swooning over #LupitaNyongo's green @Gucci gown...stunning! #YBFIGFab

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Yeah ...About Black Girls Rock

Hiya White Folks,

I have seen some (more) disturbing posts and commentary from some of your compadres. [Surely none of my friends are participating in this rubbish behavior.] This time it was about Black Girls Rock! and Michelle Obama’s participation. There were comments about our FLOTUS that were crude and disrespectful (par usual) and had nothing to do with her politics or ideology or the ideology of the inbred tweety birds who posted them. Just cruel and disgusting for the sake of being cruel and disgusting. 

But listen closely, Black Girls Rock! is NOT about you. And Black folks don’t work like you. Lemme ‘splain it to you Lucy. It’s this simple:  1) That show and the initiative that was its catalyst is not about white folks in the least bit. In the least. Except that it was created because of the exclusion and marginalization of black girls and black women from the media, from the beauty standard and mainstream culture in general. And the conversation! We define ourselves. We are taking back, for the most part, our images. The malignant narcissism and unmitigated hubris --the stone balls! --of the the white girls rock’ers and other dissenters is just astounding. Your willful ignorance and obliviousness to your white skin privilege is really something. What the fuck more do you want? I mean white woman tears make the earth stop rotating on its axis as it is. Your girls are allowed to maintain their innocence whether they deserve it or not. (I mean how much head are you gonna give before you give up the ghost on calling yourself a virgin. C’mon girl!) And also presumed innocent when the shit hits the fan. You got folks all over the world bleaching their skin and hair to be more like you (and adding 18″ of hair), just trying to get in sniffing distance of the beauty standard you’ve set. Seriously, get over yourselves. Let us have this thing.  It’s for us and by us. Not against you. *insert West Indian long ass suck teeth here* 2) We don’t work like you because we can love ourselves without hating someone else. Appreciating yourself and appreciating others are not mutually exclusive notions.

Most importantly, we are not here to entertain you. Yes, our TV shows, our music, our colorful idioms and country grammar are entertaining to you, inadvertantly, but we are not a monolith! There are more sides to us. We have discussed this ad naseam so no need to continue dig that horse up from its grave. We are in fact a multi-dimensional people. So when we address serious issues in our own community, without the need for you to cosign, without involving you, without asking for your affirmation,  why is this a problem?  It’s you saying “Get a job!” then turning around to bellyache about all the Mexicans and Nigras stealing your jobs. It’s a no win. Not to mention that’s it’s like the most idiotic circular logic ever. And why errbody wanna be black till it’s time to actually be black?  FOH with that! 

I teach my daughter that she most definitely rocks. Not that she’s superior to anyone else. But that her brand of beauty, intellect, style, charm are valid and valued. Her voice is matters. She matters. She is loved. That she is VALID. She hates no one. Hate is learned and I won’t teach her that. But keep at it folks and she will learn hate. Not hers but yours. She will be wary, distrustful, disdainful, even if it’s only a small part of her. We have all had this reckoning with reality. So yeah keep doing what ya do and cycle will continue to perpetuate itself. Nice work there.

But fortunately, no one’s here for this mess and we are taking you to task. This post may be about you but this “song” ain’t. (see: Carly Simon  http://www.noadradio.com/music/Carly+Simon?l=0 )

[There are several other tangential arguments I could pursue but that’s another post for another time. ]

J.

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This series was beautiful in that he used real life young men and depicted them in his recreations of iconic Italian renaissance or French portraits. Magnificent display of the thugnificence, beauty, godliness, humanity, humility and grace of black men. Bravo. #KehindeWiley