What My Sleepy Self Did Today...

I guess I didn't really do anything. My sister had the baby! She went in at 6AM to have her labor induced. A horrible photoessay type thing follows.

This is me harassing my sister on my lunch break. She's dilated 3-4 centimeters.

Sis, cursing me, but cheerful.

With her nurse, Rachel.

With her fiance.

And the family is here:

One of the sexy Godmommies arrives!

Mama

Daddy

Paternal Uncle Chris

Paternal Aunt Kayla

Paternal Aunt Adriana with Kayla's baby. He's a juicy, sweet little man!

Paternal grandmama.

Paternal Grandpapa.

Dilation proceeds slowly. When I get back around three, she's still about 4cm so I decide to take a nap.

The Kids arrive:

Shortly after 5pm, she'd only dilated 5cm so her doctor decides to perform a C-Section.

I can tell she is worried so I say silly little stuff.

Dad suited up.

Mama wants us to hold hand hands and pray around my sister.

And...

HERE'S DEUCE!!
8lbs, 19.5 inches

Swaddled up in daddy's arms

Getting fussy in the nursery.

Testing the pacifier.

Coti arrives.

Coti and Quanta.

Sis sleeping off the drugs.

You know there's more to come, right?

Some Context...

...from BFP:

I wrote a whole post in which I clearly stated:

1. there are clear racialized reasons why women of color are never and will never be the sought after by big companies, named as the leader of feminist movements, asked for interviews etc

2. that white feminists bear a responsibility (that they are NOT accepting and in fact are actively rejecting) to negotiate power and create spaces (while working alongside or a step behind marginalized communities) in which power is de-centralized

3. As a result I do NOT consider myself to be a part of any fucking “feminist movement” because to me, feminism requires diversity...

And even though I wrote this whole post about those three points–the only thing people heard was “She thinks she’s Freud and she wants money/power/recognition.”

No, actually, I know I’m brownfemipower and I want to end violence against women. And I wanted to do that with all the women who keep insisting to me that we are all in this together and we have common problems that we have to work against and we’re all sisters, and there is such thing as a commonality of experience between us all—as I said in my original post—I thought feminism was important because it brought women together...

But how can it have “brought us together” when my implicit goal in feminist centered media justice is to write erased communities into existence—and the result of the work of the ’sister’ down the street is the erasure of the same communities I’m working to write into existence?

There's so much more.

Our Children

Two stories that I have heard recently have me trying to write a post about children of color. In the meantime, I think it's important to get the links out here. First, Location of Mass Graves of Residential School Children Revealed for the First Time. From the Friends and Relatives of the Disappeared (FRD):

We are gathered today [10 Apr 2008] to publicly disclose the location of twenty eight mass graves of children who died in Indian Residential Schools across Canada , and to announce the formation of an independent, non-governmental inquiry into the death and disappearance of children in these schools.

...

We estimate that there are hundreds, and possibly thousands, of children buried in these grave sites alone.

Second, Sludge fertilizer program spurs concerns:

BALTIMORE - Scientists using federal grants spread fertilizer made from human and industrial wastes on yards in poor, black neighborhoods to test whether it might protect children from lead poisoning in the soil. Families were assured the sludge was
safe and were never told about any harmful ingredients

...

There is no evidence there was ever any medical follow-up.

H/T Kevin and Aaminah

C'mon, Baby, C'mon!!!

So my newest nephew is due anytime now. My sister's due date was pegged as April 14 or 16. But, her body's not showing any signs of being ready for delivery. At her checkup yesterday, the doctor finally told her, "Okay, we might have to think about doing something."

Two weeks ago, he already weighed 7 lbs, 6 oz, quite a bit to be carrying around. She is having problems breathing (out of breath easily) and she basically does not sleep--something which I've been selfishly sorta enjoying because we sit up together many nights until 4 a.m. Just me and her, no kids, no parents, etc., and I think we both like the quiet and the chance to surf the net or watch t.v. or talk or just both read books in the same room. But hell, she's tired. Her feet and ankles are swelling and yesterday her blood pressure was elevated--pre-pregnancy, she took medicine for hypertension but the doctor stopped it during pregnancy and, for the most part, her blood pressure has been at good level.

But she's ready to have this baby--a frustration I understand because my son was five days over due and I seriously considered telling my ob/gyn, "I will scream if you send me home because I do not want to be pregnant ONE MINUTE LONGER!!" Her son came late as well, but with him there were at least signs that delivery was impending--softened cervix, lost mucus plug, etc, etc. Her worry now is since none of that has happened (no dilation, no "false" labor, nothing) how much longer might it be?

So send my sister good vibes. I'll consider it a personal favor :-p

A Familiar Refrain

Okay, on my way to my 9:30, but just wanted to point some brave souls to this article: Divorce, Unwed Parenting Costing Taxpayers, which from a quick skim seems predicated on the notion that married couples/families "cost" taxpayers nothing; that "taxpayers" are all married people; and a dubious $112 billion figure that purportedly takes into account:

households headed by a single female have relatively high poverty rates, leading to higher spending on welfare, health care, criminal justice and education for those raised in the disadvantaged homes. The $112 billion estimate includes the cost of federal, state and local government programs, and lost tax revenue at all levels of government.

Quickly, does the answer to these costs have anything to do with addressing systemic reasons why ao many women and their children in this country are poor? Why there is higher spending on "criminal justice" for poor people? Etc. Etc.

Nope the answers all lie (wait for it)...

in marriage strengthening programs. Wasn't that easy?

I so hope someone critiques and deconstructs this report.

Carnival Against Sexual Violence #45

...at Marcella's.

Mr. Pot? Ms. Kettle Is Holding...

**Presented without comment on Obama's actual comments.**

While eating a late lunch at a local restaurant, I was treated to the always lovely Fox News Channel.

Developing news? McCain and Clinton call Obama's "bitter" comments "elitist" and "divisive." And I got the little e-mails from the Clinton and Obama campaigns today, too, which both contained arguments about who could best relate.

Now, when I was preparing to talk about JFK to my post-45 class, I went of on all sorts of tangents, including reading about Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis, readings which included details of the schools she attended, which sent me into looking up private, exclusive prep schools and their lists of notable alumni. (Yes that sentence is reflective of how my mind works).

Which invariably included "major" politicians and their children.

The point is, in looking at these people's careers, where and how they live, where they went to school, where their children go to school, etc., etc. , I've come to the unprecedented conclusion...

that they are all a bit elitist. Next episode of "developing" news, please.

**Okay, here's my point stated much more precisely.**

Tavis Smiley.........Black Community

I'm curious to know your thoughts on Tavis Smiley resigning from the Tom Joyner Morning Show. (http://www.maynardije.org/columns/dickprince/080411_prince/).

I'm on the fence here. What's wrong with an influential Black man calling Obama to task? I don't agree with calling him to task for not attending the Symposium in person. Obama is walking a fine line in a country deeply affected and driven by racism whether overt or intrinsic. And I do believe Smiley's ego was deeply bruised and it is influencing some of his positions, but must every Black "personality/pundit" agree with everything Obama does. Should we all just blindly fall in line because Obama is Black and the first real shot America has at seeing a Black president?

I'm an Obama supporter, but I don't do so blindly or simply because he's Black. I get angry at the MSM (main stream media) for blindly assuming all Blacks support him or must explain why they don't, the same applies to the Black community. I have my opinions about Clinton and McCain and their records and the racial undertones that the Clintons, in particular, have pushed. But I'm not so arrogant as to believe all Black people should see it the way I do.

I don't get to listen the TJM show anymore, but I feel like Tavis' contribution to that show was invaluable. It brought current events, politics and issues that affect the Black community to an audience whose members at times can be quite apathetic towards them. Must we only have people voice opinions that the Black community at large agrees with? Can no one have alternative views? Must we consider someone a sell out because they have the audacity to challenge a man who could be our next president to see where he stands on issues that affect the Black community?

On the flip side, is Tavis' ego so strong that he can't take the heat when it's turned on him? He is a journalist/pundit who's views are widely heard. Does he expect all to blindly follow his views and his criticisms? Has he let his own feelings of being "dissed" influence his commentary? Is this a continuation of the "Is Barack Obama black enough?" issue?

Thoughts?

P.S. psst...Hey Elle....I'm posting! :-)

Today is the Global Day for Darfur

Via Kevin, Modern Musings has a list of bloggers participating on this day that marks five years of war in Darfur.

Kevin points to a new Human Rights Watch report.

And see Dave's links to Darfur Resources.

My Thoughts on The Greatest Silence and Rape in the Congo

Watching The Greatest Silence created a dilemma for me: it was both so difficult to watch and impossible to turn away from it. When Lisa Jackson mused that, for many of the survivors whom she filmed at one meeting, this would be the first time their stories were heard outside the meeting room, I was struck not only by how sad and how frustrating that was, but how true.

There are moments, themes from that film that stick with me. First, as An Anxious Black Woman pointed out:

there are TWO kinds of rapists lurking in the shadows (or boldfacedly emerging to terrorize the nation) of the Congo - the local soldiers and multinational corporations. So, these gang rapists - working in SOLIDARITY, I might add! - are perpetuating the violence.

Corporations take untold millions of dollars of natural resources from the Congo--a fact Chris Clarke wrote about a year ago.* Competition over these resources fuels the ongoing war with the catastrophic results on which Jackson focuses.

Then, there were Jackson's chilling interviews with the rapists. On the surface, they described their violent acts in terms of physiological need, portraying rape as a "natural" outcome--what happens when men have been in the bush too long without sex. Jackson attempted to ask them if the rapes were about power and sex. The interpreter dismissed her question, telling her that these men could not understand what she was asking. But I think he was wrong. The more the soldiers talked, the more it became obvious that they very much understood the power dynamic. They raped, some said, because they were ordered to do so. They made women and children suffer because they had suffered. Repeatedly, they said, "If she refuses, then I must..." and one of the soldiers offered an explanation based on men's superiority to women. One of the most chilling statements in that film began with, "Yes, she's a human being, too, but-" Because what follows is the implication that "her" humanity is somehow less than "his."

The nature of the rapes as well--the violent attacks with sticks and razors and hot coals that destroy women's bladders/urinary tracts and their uteruses--points to the fact that soldiers understand that they are waging a total war, that the murder and rape of women and children can destroy "enemy" nations. That is not to dismiss the purported "allies" who rape as well--the UN peacekeepers and the soldiers from these women's own communities, for example.

And so the stories that emerge from the film are disturbing. The women who are isolated from their families and communities because they have been "shamed" and because they can no longer control some bodily functions. The young woman who named her daughter "Lumiere," French for "light." When Jackson tried to grasp some triumph from that name--"She is your light?" she asked the young woman--she is told solemnly "No, I was obliged to accept her." The lack of adequate medical and emotional care--the clearly overwhelmed Panzi Hospital, for example. The dedicated Officer Honorine who reveals the overwhelming nature of her work--she is the only officer for child protection and for investigating crimes of sexual violence.

And the privileged, Western feminist in me railed at the fact that, for many of these women, their only hope is to find a man who will "accept" and help them. They are largely illiterate and lack paid workforce skills. To me, it seemed, so much of their lives was determined by their encounters and relationships with men. That is an analysis, of course, that places my feelings at the center, and so it is sadly insufficient and unfair.

A few days ago, Professor Black Woman wrote that "women's bodies are part of the battleground in wars" and, in that sense at least**, the rape epidemic in the Congo was not exceptional but part of a worldwide pattern. Anxious Black Woman expounded upon that today as she remembered

those Carib, Arawak, Aztec, Mayan, Creek, Cherokee, Iroquois, Inuit, Kanaka Maoli, Warai, and Jingili women whose genitalia were routinely cut out of them and placed on sticks, spears, and hats for proud exhibition. I think of the Khoisan woman from South Africa, Saartjie Baartman, whose genitalia was also placed on proud exhibition - not on a spear, but in a scientific bell jar. I think of imperialism and racism, and how both ideologies depended upon the institution of misogyny to maintain supremacy. I think of this long, long, awfully long history of women in general - and women of color especially - who are often targeted for the most brutal forms of violence and then enveloped in silence so that we dare not dwell on the traumatic memories or, worse, on the traumatic future that is surely set for our daughters.

In recounting how "disturbing" these stories are, I do not mean to discount the fact that these women survived and that spirit of survival comes through loud and clear. I remember how proud one woman was that, after surgery to repair her fistula, she was no longer wetting the bed. In that meeting that I mentioned initially, the nun who works with survivors opined that together, they could help each other, that speaking out, sharing their stories could ease the trauma, foster a sense of connectedness. Jackson filmed survivors learning trades and nurturing their children and tending their gardens.***

She also captured them singing. And laughing, a sound she remembered hearing so little of in the Congo.

Further reading (I'll add to these links):

Anxious Black Woman (to whom I owe so much)
Professor Black Woman
Lauren
SheCodes
Melissa
Marcella
Tasha212
Res Publica
Katie (here, too)

Then, there is always the question of what we can do.**** Here's a non-exhaustive list:
Anxious Black Woman challenges us to call out corporate rapists. (She's provided contact information).
Support Women for Women, International.
Support Doctors without Borders.
Support the International Rescue Committee.
Here is a link to the Panzi Hospital.

From the BBC:

The Panzi Hospital (for Victims of Sexual Violence)
8th Community of Pentecostal Churches in Central Africa (CEPAC)
Medical Department.
GENERAL REFERRAL HOSPITAL OF PANZI,
PO Box: 266
BUKAVU
South Kivu Province,
Democratic Republic of Congo

Christian Relief Network
CRN deal regularly with the Panzi Hospital
CRN, Christian Relief Network
(+47) 22 01 07 00
Email: info@crn.no

______________________
*Thanks, Lauren for the link.
**In speaking of Congolese "exceptionality," I say "in that sense" because Melissa's post points me to a WaPo article that suggests that the prevalence of rape in the Congo is, indeed, exceptional.
***Lex has a wonderful post about how tending our gardens also means tending each other--knowing " how to make each other grow."
**** As a teacher, I've been trying to get my post-45 class to make links, to be not-as-clueless as I was about rape and exploitation and war. We talked about "comfort women" in World War II. And when we covered the My Lai massacre, we talked about the rape of Vietnamese women. I did not assign The Greatest Silence, as I had not seen it, but I did recommend that they watch it. A couple of them did and one young woman asked me "Why do you think it happens?" a question that I re-directed to her classmates.

Blog in Solidarity on April 13: Congo Rape Epidemic

Via Anxious Black Woman, Sunday is a day of blogging solidarity:

Calling all bloggers, who are concerned about the Congo Rape Epidemic (some of us learning about the details of this conflict through Lisa Jackson's film, The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo, which aired on HBO this week), to post about the situation and offer strategies to fight this epidemic on Sunday, April 13, 2008.

I watched the film. I can't say much more than that right now.

If I've Never Meant It Before...

...I mean it profoundly right now.

Thank God It's Friday. Lord, I need it.

Tonight is my son's first baseball game. And his coach told me on the phone last night, "They play three times Saturday."

If he thinks I'm sitting out there for three rounds of a game I don't particularly care for (sorry)...

Does that get filed under the "joys of parenthood" category?

Deja Vu

So BFP's blog is gone.

Quite selfishly, I am so pissed. But I think I understand her need to leave. Still, the way it's all unfolding...

Emily's comment at Hugo Schwyzer's made me think. The comment:

I don’t know the ins and outs of this one (yet), but you [Hugo] seem pretty damn quick to defend these white women against criticism from women of color every time the issue comes up.

My thoughts:

Do you remember Sophia in The Color Purple? Remember how she was all proud and had that beautiful strong stride and that seemingly unshakeable confidence? Remember how she wasn't scared to fight but she declared to Miss Celie that her home, her safe place would not be a place in which she had to fight to live and speak and think?

And remember how she did such a good job tending that safe place, loving and nurturing, that it showed in the fruits of her labor (her children)? Remember how Miss Millie wanted to co-opt that loving and nurturing and caretaking, but in a way that would subjugate Sophia and for which Miss Millie would get the credit?

And you remember Sophia's outrage when she said, "Hell, naw," that mess would not be going on?! Remember how offended Miss Millie was--at Sophia's nerve in calling out that bullshit?

But, almost like magic, before Miss Millie could respond in-depth, the mayor stepped in to put Sophia "back in her place" and defend Miss Millie's dishonor?

And for a while, Sophia disappeared* and we missed her, her vibrance and courage and voice?

But while Sophia was feeling tired and overwhelmed, her girl (Miss Celie) had her back.

And you know the best part of Sophia's storyline? When Miss Celie was asserting herself and declaring the validity, the importance, the reality of her life and experiences, Sophia was there to back her up,** to encourage her, to share her experience, to love her.

Sophia came back. Being knocked down for a minute only made her stronger. Despite all the bullshit, Sophia came back strong and assertive and laughing and sure of her place.

That gives me hope.
_________________________________________
*Sophia was, for a time, silenced, and that can't happen with BFP. BFP, I say that you cannot be silenced, because do you know how many of us are influenced and encouraged by you? I hope, while you're sitting back soaking your feet and reading that book, you realize how much you are loved, loved, loved and appreciated.

**I know there are a million more links for other women who've been supported and encouraged by BFP. Hell, this is only one of many of mine.

About me

When, Elle asked me to write and/or submit for her blog I got nervous. I don't know why exactly, but I did. I'm not the eloquent writer that she is. My occupation couldn't be further from academia. But she's gently nudged me for a long time now. I'm known to send her countless articles on politics, current events, etc. She'd always persist I should be sharing them on her blog. I finally agreed, but then I thought maybe I should introduce myself, and proceeded to procrastinate about that for the nexts 3 or 4 weeks. Hell, Elle is probably having a heart attack right now as she realizes I'm actually writing!

So, who am I? Hmmmm.....I'm not sure what defines "me" really. I can say that my perspective/upbringing is quite different from Elle's. I'm a biracial/bicultural military brat with a German mother (German national, not German-American) and Black father, a caucasian brother (BROTHER, not half brother - I hate it when people try to diminish our bond - we both came out of my mother's womb), and another brother like me. I spent most of my childhood in Italy and Germany attending American schools that were full of every variety of race/culture mix you can think of. I moved to small town central Texas as a freshman in highschool and immediately suffered a huge culture shock. People made such a big deal about the states (they called it "the world"), and, I thought, THIS was it????

I've reluctantly entered my 30s (somewhat recently, though I won't tell HOW recently). Elle and I were college roomies with exactly the same major and minor and we took the same classes. It's crazy to see how different our career choices became. She's Dr. Elle, historian extraordinaire, and I'm Kimberly, the executive-lite at a small corporation in a job that couldn't be further away from academia. Yet I'm still a "nerd" who can regurgitate odd facts, who follows politics closely, who can name most countries on a map, and who is fascinated (though not an expert) by history, sociology, and psychology.

Growing up on military bases, my racial identity and the makeup of my family was never really a big deal. We always had people do double takes when people realized my brothers and I were in-fact brothers and sister....but beyond that, we weren't too far from the norm. Mixed race kids were a pretty decent sized percentage of the kids that went to school. We weren't "different".
When I moved to Texas and started high-school, I began to feel as if I was supposed to identify myself as something. That was the first time I'd seen Black and White so separated. But even then, mixed race kids were the furthest thing from uncommon. When I went to college in Houston, was when I really saw a division. For the first time in my life, I couldn't really name any white friends. That was odd to me. And that was the first time in my life that I found myself included in the division that exists.

Out of college and into wifedom and mommyhood, I've expanded my friendship across many cultures. I may even have a Republican friend or two. But my views are quite liberal (and CORRECT of-course). I believe in Jesus, but have serious issues with organized religion that has kept me away from church for years up until recently.

I have 2 little boys who light up my life and a husband who's, well, a husband. Elle and I were very close in college and she continues to be someone I think of as a sister. I'm extremely proud of her and in awe of all she's been able to overcome and accomplish.

I'm not sure WHAT I'll be contributing, but I'm honored to be asked. So........................HI!

(forgive typos and grammaticals.....I've been jumping between this and real work!)

The Greatest Silence

Thank you to Professor Black Woman and an Anxious Black Woman, who both posted about the premiere of The Greatest Silence on HBO tonight. From the website:

Since 1998 a brutal war has been raging in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Over 4 million people have died. And there are the uncountable casualties: the many tens of thousands of women and girls who have been systematically kidnapped, raped, mutilated and tortured by soldiers from both foreign militias and the Congolese army.

The world knows nothing of these women. Their stories have never been told. They suffer and die in silence. In The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo these brave women finally speak.

Before the last few years, I had never thought of rape as a weapon of war. I thought of it as something that invariably occurred during war, as part of a larger power struggle, but never as a systematic assault with consequences that affect so many.

I've learned a lot from BfP's posts, many of them archived in the nation/state violence category. Prof BW's analysis, I think, is embodied in her hope that this film:

covers the issues of rape and sexual violence as weapons of war in the Congo not as exceptional or part of a racialized narrative, which has been the way these issues have been presented to date, but rather as part of an increasingly astute understanding of how women’s bodies are part of the battleground in wars around the world. I am looking for this, not to erase the specificity of the violence in the Congo, which is a necessary part of any analysis, but rather to develop a language of addressing sexual violence that deals with its use as a tool of war throughout history and allows us to deal with the specific use against, and experience of, women in any given place.

Historiann talks a bit about the history Prof BW mentions here.

Here is the trailer for the film:



It premieres tonight at 9 PM my time, which is 10 Eastern.

Thank You, Angry Black Woman

So, a few weeks ago when Pat Buchanan stated that African Americans should thank God for being Americans and that "no people anywhere has done more to lift up blacks than white Americans," I was just too "Oh-my-God-is-he-for-real?" to speak. And I didn't even know where to begin.

You know who did know where to start? The Angry Black Woman. Her post, "Thank You, White People" is fierce.

Of course, it didn't take long for the trolls to appear in the comments. You know the spiel: "My ancestors never owned slaves and I refuse to feel guilty for something that happened eons ago." As Delux pointed out, "who needs to be upset about what your ancestors did, when what your contemporaries are up to is quite enough to handle now?" The absolute blindness--to the privileging of whiteness, for one--is astounding.

And now, a white supremacist website has linked to ABW as she is receiving hate e-mail and threats to the safety of the space she has carved out.

Please go over and show support.

H/T BFP

A Small-town Rant

Really, later on, I'm going to post about some of the positives of my move back home. In fact, this post will probably come down when I think about it and become embarrassed at splattering my feelings up here and entertaining some people's bullshit. For now, however, I am too pissed.

So my sister and I have heard, through the ever-busy local grapevine, that some local residents (primarily a member of our church) have "discovered" this blog and don't like my "position" on a number of issues. Apparently, my life is fodder for much discussion.

Really? Cuz you know one of the things my sister and I discuss? What we call late-in-life Christians. You know--the ones who raise "hell" for decades then, when they feel they've done it all, they "find" God (did you know He was ever lost?). I've been having considerable trouble with a couple of those since I've moved back. Last night, when I was even angrier than I am now, I sat in bed and wrote a three-page post, because, while this stuff usually rolls off my back, I am becoming increasingly weary of it. But scratch that. My position can be boiled down to a few phrases:

I am a grown-ass woman. I am not the quiet little girl who felt she needed to curry favor and please everyone years ago. If you don't like my politics, opinions, or beliefs--that's your issue. If you've made assumptions about what I believe or how I should act--that's your issue. I am 100% human, not the least bit interested in being perfect, not the least bit convinced that your way, your narrow interpretation, is the "only" way. It is not your job to send me to your concept of heaven or hell. And yes, I am very much my devout mother's daughter because her faith is one that emphasizes love, respect, and acceptance, not fear, judgment, and punishment.

And, really, though I'm honored to be on your mind, you're working my nerves.

Sneak Peek of "Still Black"

From nubian:

Save the dates
for the first time ever, official excerpts from still black: a portrait of black transmen will be presented to the public at the following venues:

april 9th @ 8:30 p.m. at the university of illinois urbana-champaign’s “reel queer film festival”

april 25th @ 8 p.m. at northwestern university’s queertopia!–$5 students/$10 general

april 26th @ the center on halsted (glbtq center) in chicago

the director (me) and producer will be in attendance at all of the events, two of which are free! for more information, email awilda@blackstarmedia.org

We Are the Champions...

Okay, I just like this picture for some reason. See all the stuff that we have yet to put together for the new baby in the background?

I Think I Should Be Rewarded for that Cake...

... I have to have this book. Yes, as in NEED.

Black women, alleged by affirmative-action supporters and opponents to be "twofers," recount how they have confronted racism, sexism, and homophobia on college campuses. They explore how the personal and the political intersect in historical research and writing and in the academy. Organized by the years the contributors earned their Ph.D.'s, these essays follow the black women who entered the field of history during and after the civil rights and black power movements, endured the turbulent 1970s, and opened up the field of black women's history in the 1980s. By comparing the experiences of older and younger generations, this collection makes visible the benefits and drawbacks of the institutionalization of African American and African American women's history. Telling Histories captures the voices of these pioneers, intimately and publicly.

Thanks so much to Kismet from whom I found this.

southern elle

Y'all, guess what I did? Made this Southern Red Velvet Cake (sans pecans) from scratch!!!!

Why am I so giddy? Because I love to cook, but I cannot bake.

So to make a cake.

From scratch.

I know my "presentation" isn't awesome, but this cake... c'est si bon. And it's prettier in person, trust me. :-p

Oh! I feel the way I did when I finally cooked a decent pot of collard greens.

The Promised Land

For Alexis

This clip always affects me.

Because I wonder what he saw that made him draw the comparisons between himself and Moses. Was he frightened? Had he made peace with the fact that he might be denied longevity?

And I wonder what he saw from that mountaintop. What was the promised land? Why was he so sure we'd make it?

And 40 years later, I am sure that the way I and so many others probably once understood the promised land--as something already existing that we just had to struggle to reach--is wrong. I don't think it already exists. I think it's up to us to shape and create.

Usually I always dream of the promised land in terms of "withouts"--you know, without racism and colorism, without sexism and the damned patriarchy, without homophobia, without ableism, without fundamentalism, without so many of the borders we draw, without the grind of poverty, without that feeling of being overwhelmed--by circumstances, sadness, life itself--without, without, without...

I can't list them all.

So, today, as I lie around, I'm going to think of the promised land "withs."

And no, I can't list all those either.

But at the base, I think, it has to be shaped...

With love.

Which might sound trite.

But if you've heard this woman and this woman talk about love, then you know it's not trite or a given at all.

It affirms.

It transforms.

It sustains.

It promises.

So, again, I'm not sure of what exactly our created promised land could look like, but I am always inspired by Alexis who wrote this for our sisters:

“wishful thinking” or “what i’m waiting to find in our email boxes”

1. you wake up each day
as new as anyone
there is no reason to assume
you would be supernaturally strong.
there is no reason to test your strength
through daily disrespect and neglect.
you don’t need to be strong.
everyone supports you.

2. if you say ouch
we believe that you are hurt.
we wait to hear how we can help
to mend your pain.

3. you have chosen to be at a school,
at a workplace, in a community
that knows that you are priceless
that would never sacrifice your spirit
that knows it needs your brilliance to be whole

4. your very skin
is sacred
and everything beyond it
is a miracle that we revere

5. we mourn any violence that
has ever been enacted against you.
we will do what it takes
to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.
to anyone.

6. when you speak
we listen.
we are so glad that you
are here, of all places.

7. other women
even strangers
reach out to you
when you seem afraid
and they stay
until peace comes

8. the sun
reminds everyone
how much they love you.

9. people are interested
in what you are wearing
simply
because it tells them
what paintings to make.

10. everyone has always told you
you can stay a child
until you are ready to move on

11. if you run across the street
naked at midnight
no one will think
you are asking
for anything.

12. you do so many things
because it feels good to move.
you have nothing to prove
to anyone.

13. white people cannot harm you.
they do not want to.
they do not do it by accident.

14. your smile makes people
glad to be alive

15. your body is not
a symbol of anything

16. everyone respects your work
and makes sure you are safe
while doing it

17. at any moment
you might relive
the joy of being embraced

18. no one will lie to you,
scream at you
or demand anything.

19. when you change your mind,
people will remember to change theirs.

20. your children are safe
no one will use them against you.

21. the university is a place where you
are reflected and embraced.
anyone who forgets how miraculous you are
need only open their eyes.

22. the universe conspires
to lift you
up.

23. on the news everynight
people who look like you and
the people you love
are applauded
for their contribution to society.

24. the place where knowledge is
has no walls.

25. you are rewarded for the work you do
to keep it all together.

26. every song i’ve
ever heard on the radio
is in praise
of you.

27. the way you speak
is exactly right
for wherever you happen
to be.

28. there is no continent anywhere
where life counts as nothing.

29. there is no innocence that needs your guilt
to prove it.

30. there is no house
in your neighborhood
where you still hear screams
every time you go
past.

31. no news camera waits
to amplify your pain.

32. nobody wonders
whether you will make it.
everybody believes in you

33. when you have a child
no one finds it tragic.
no map records it as an instance of blight.

34. no one hopes you will give up
on your neighborhood
so they can buy it up cheap.

35. everyone asks you your name.
no one calls you out of it.

36. someone is thinking highly of you
right now.

37. being around you
makes people want to be
their kindest, most generous selves.

38. there is no law anywhere
that depends on your silence.

39. nobody bases their privilege
on their ability to desecrate you.

40. everyone will believe anything you say
because they have been telling you the truth
all along.

41. school is a place, like every other place.
no one here is out to get you.

42. worldwide, girls who look like you
are known for having great ideas.

43. 3 in 3 women will fall in love with themselves
during their lifetime.

44. every minute in North Carolina
a woman embraces
another woman.

45. you know 8 people
who will help you move
to a new place
if you need to.

46. when you speak loudly
everyone is happy
because they wondered
what you were thinking about.

47. people give you gifts
and truly expect nothing
in return.

48. no one thinks you are
over-reacting.

49. everyone believes
that you should have all
the resources that you need,
because by being yourself
you make the world so much
brighter.

50. any creases on your face
are from laughter.

51. no one, anywhere, is locked in a cage.

52. you are completely used to knowing what you want.
following your dream is as easy as walking.

53. you are more than enough.

54. everyone is waiting
to see what great thing
you’ll do next.

55. every institution wants to know
what you think, so they can find out
what they should really be doing,
or shut down.

56. strangers send you love letters
thanking you
for speaking your mind.

57. you wake up
new
as anyone.

-Alexis Pauline Gumbs April 2007

SEARCH FOR TASHINA GENERAL

Via BA:

Having Read The Fine Print......: URGENT : SEARCH TASHINA GENERAL

Taken form the UBUNTU comment section


Today I'm reaching out to everyone I can thing of to tell
you all that Tashina General, a Mohawk woman from the Six Nations
Reserve near Brantford, Ontario, has gone missing.

She is five months pregnant, and she has been missing for
almost three weeks.

Tashina is the cousin of some family frineds of ours;
they are frantic. Because she is a Native woman, there is not much
press coverage of her disappearance.

There are over 500 missing and murdered aboriginal women
in Canada; the violence Native Canadian women face is connected to the
violence indigenous women are facing in Guatemala and in El Salvador
and along the US Mexico border in the Juarez region.

In your piece, you spoke about the "rapeability", to use
Andrea Smith's word, of black women. Native American and First
Nations women, too, are considered somehow especially or inherently
"rapeable".

We all and up frozen inside our own communites, or even
limited to our own homes, or to a room in that home, and some of us at
times go without any sort of home at all, trying to keep our back pack
close to us, as it has now become our only safe space in the world. we
need to reach out to each other.

The white women who go on to date or marry those young,
privileged white men will likely rue the day they thought that somehow
their men would hurt "that other sort" of woman and not them-- the
reality is that all of us are considered "rapeable", and there is no
"other sort" of woman.

Our lack of solidarity as women is killing us.

Please keep Tashina in your prayers, and if you'd like
to know more about Tashina and the other missing women, please google
NWAC, the Native Women's Association of Canada.

Another Reason I'm Loving My Post-45 Class Right Now

Now that it's been a little while since we've bid President Kennedy a bittersweet adieu in this class, I can present them with these quotes:

Over the years, I’ve been deeply moved by the people who’ve told me they wished they could feel inspired and hopeful about America the way people did when my father was president. This sense is even more profound today. That is why I am supporting a presidential candidate in the Democratic primaries, Barack Obama.

...

I have never had a president who inspired me the way people tell me that my father inspired them. But for the first time, I believe I have found the man who could be that president — not just for me, but for a new generation of Americans.
-Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg

And these similar images:



And briefly parse and discuss.

They're going to get the similarities and the spirit behind Caroline Kennedy-Schlossberg's quotes immediately. But I want them to think about what we've discussed about the Kennedy legacy versus the Kennedy legend and re-evaluate the comparison and what it might mean to and for Senator Obama. There are some other ways I want to go with this, too, but I have to work out all my questions for next week.

Connections. Relevancy. A history teacher's dream!

Sleepy as elle!!!!

Bed at 4:10 a.m.

Rose at 6:13 a.m.

Class at 8:00 a.m.

Why, elle, why?

Letting Him Grow Up

So my son fancies himself a skateboarding rock-star. A free-styling, pop-music loving, skateboarding rock-star, but a skateboarding rock-star nonetheless. So, over the last few months, we've been exploring the joys of Journey's Kidz and Rue 21. Now, truthfully, as a mama, in the back of my brain, I wonder if I should be letting my nine-and-three-quarter-year-old (please don't forget the 3/4!) walk around in shirts with skulls and such. But I try to encourage him to be his own person, so I've relented. He likes his pants loose-fitting, but narrower in the leg than I do. I've relented. He likes big belt buckles and pocket chains. I don't mind those at all. I even recognize brands like "Famous," "Etnies," "Adio," and "Vans." And for the most part, I like his sense of style.

Now, there are things mama has had to put her foot down about. There's a Bob Marley shirt at Journey's that we both love, but he wanted a belt buckle to match. I'd almost bought one with Marley's image on it, 'til I realized the little greenery outlining the buckle was probably not kid appropriate. He decided one day that he wanted his nails polished black and proceeded to do so with a pen. I relied on the old, "You'll poison yourself!" standby. He wore a shirt to church one Sunday with a big ol' hundred dollar bill across the front with Ben Franklin looking menacing. He got a lecture and that shirt revoked. He wants more fitted baseball caps. Those things are almost $40 and I just can't indulge in that!

So, over the last few days, he's been walking around with a backpack on, and a towel around his neck, tucked into his shirt. I couldn't figure that one out. Finally, Coti told me, "It's supposed to be a scarf like some skateboarders wear." I still didn't get it. Then she showed me an image on TV that was similar to this:And I am thinking this is a put-your-foot-down-mama moment again. I mean, I understand his need to follow his style sense :-) but I don't want him walking around looking like an homage to the hold-up gangs of yesteryear.

What do you think? And mama and daddy readers, how far do you let your kids go in choosing their own clothing/styles/etc.?

Well, I'll Be an April Fool

H/T Melissa

I have a confession to make. One that might "surprise" black people everywhere.

I cannot play basketball.

Cannot even dribble (my mom used to say, "elle, stop patting the ball!").

And this is serious.

Cause basketball playing, it "translates racially." So I am left unable to converse with my basketball-playing brothers and sisters about issues and stuff.

And there is one less way that Senator Barack Obama can court my vote.

You see, Sen. Obama is "very good" at basketball. And as it has been deemed--during a conversation among Chris Matthews, Howard Fineman, and Michelle Bernard-- that that is one way he can reach black voters (I guess that's what a racial translation is), I am feeling quite left out of his possible rhetoric.

Now, to get very ethnic (wherein "ethnic" is loosely synonymous to "racist") apparently no one is surprised that Sen. Obama is good at basketball. It must be coded into those pesky "black" genes.

Where does that leave a black woman who can't play?

And putting aside my selfishness for a minute, where does this ability to play basketball leave Obama? I mean, on the one hand, this basketball thing could lay to rest permanently the questions over his "blackness."

But does this, perchance, mean he's too black for "regular" voters? (wherein "regular" is loosely synonymous to "white"--the color of "regular" people--let me borrow a sentence to illustrate:

Here's a guy trying to break into the white ethnic voting crowd, so he goes and plays a sport most associated, I think, with regular folks in the big cities and small towns.

That sport is bowling, and it is verifiably a sport for white people (wherein "verifiably" means verified by Howard Fineman, whose expertise is unquestionable seeing as how it's based on the fact that he's white and all).

So Sen. Obama is mysteriously failing to racially translate his basketball playing to reach black people and unable to bowl and reach white people. Then he's compounding the problem by having a non-macho, "dainty" bowling stance--I just know that's cueing red flags for some people!

Effective immediately, I am demanding that Sen. Obama move away from the issues he believes important to work on his bowling game. Nevermind any recent "controversy;" it's his less than stellar bowling that's "just killing him."

So much so that Howard Fineman felt the need to say it three times.

I'm. Just. Through.

No, wait, I had another though. It's okay for him to use basketball to translate racially, but if he engages in any "racial translation" on serious issues within black communities, he's going to be labeled as "concerned only about black people?"

Now I'm done.

Wait, on the other hand, maybe by racially translate, he meant across color lines? Meaning Obama can appeal to white voters not as a politician or even a future president, but as a "good" basketball player, an entertainer. Some people would be infinitely more comfortable (infinitely less threatened?) seeing him in that light. I'm making myself more disgusted so really, I'll stop.

From Media Matters:

FINEMAN: He definitely needs some bowling lessons... if you can't do something like that, you shouldn't do it. He should have stuck to shooting hoops --

MATTHEWS: Yeah, I know.

FINEMAN: -- which he's very, very good at, by the way, and which translates racially, too, especially during the NCAA basketball tournament. Don't do something you've never tried before in front of a national television audience, OK?

MATTHEWS: You know, Michelle -- and this gets very ethnic, but the fact that he's good at basketball doesn't surprise anybody, but the fact that he's that terrible at bowling does make you wonder --

FINEMAN: That doesn't surprise anybody either.

BERNARD: Well, it certainly doesn't surprise anybody black, I can tell you that.

MATTHEWS: Is black a bowling --

FINEMAN: This is just killing him.

MATTHEWS: I don't know, I guess everybody bowls.

FINEMAN: This is just killing him.

MATTHEWS: I know.

FINEMAN: This is just killing him, Chris. Don't show this over and over again.

MATTHEWS: No, no, we're doing it again. This is a killer. Look at this killer. Because it isn't the most macho form there, I must say, but who knows?

I keep waiting for this to be an early April Fool's thing.

Sweet Suggestions?

So the ever-so-sweet Coti just brought me fresh strawberries. As in big, beautiful, out-of-someone's garden strawberries. I'm looking forward to eating them.

Thing is, I want to "do" something with them--I don't want to eat them plain. There's about a pint and, while I know how to make from-scratch strawberry shortcake, I don't want that (I'd need to buy more strawberries anyway).

Any suggestions?

I Heart My Post-45 Class

You know what finally got them super-chatty? Discussing the FBI, the CIA, United Fruit in Guatemala, Fidel Castro, etc. As a group, they lean left. They talked about how the American government is sometimes hypocritical and (get this) how United Fruit was like it's own "little colonial power" (one of my students' quote!). I could barely get in a word--or a question--edgewise.

They also liked discussing student movements in the 60s--no surprise there--especially SNCC and the SSOC. They had a big debate over SNCC's politics--particularly the expulsion of white members and the conflict between men and women. One of my students asked if I thought Stokely Carmichael's positions on the role of women and white involvement in the movement led to SNCC's demise.

So, in the last few weeks, I've finally gotten the participation I longed for.

There is No Joy in Mudville

I dropped my cellphone.

The one on which I receive e-mails, read blogs, and text message like crazy.

And it will not come back on.

How can a relatively expensive phone be so fragile?

**Sigh**

UNC-Chapel Hill: Obesity May Keep Some Women from Getting Screened for Breast, Cervical Cancer

From Newswise:

A review of cancer screening studies shows that white women who are obese are less likely than healthy weight women to get the recommended screenings for breast and cervical cancer, according to researchers at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill’s School of Public Health.

The trend was not seen as consistently among black women; however there were fewer high quality studies that examined black women separately.

Let's, for a moment, ignore the disappearing of women who are not black or white and the curious "healthy weight women" remark, shall we? Within this study, women who are labeled obese are less likely to get pap smears and mammograms. When asked why, Sarah S. Cohen, lead author of the article, replied, "Our review doesn’t tell us why larger women are not getting screened as frequently for these cancers. It only reveals the trend."

I'd like to offer a couple of suggestions. Maybe it's because doctors make us feel similar to the little things that crawl out when you turn a rock over? (Until you get the stern "Shame on you, fat girl, you might die tomorrow!" lecture, you haven't experienced a doctor's visit!). Maybe because we're taught to hate our bodies and the idea of getting naked in front of anyone is terrifying? Maybe, deep down, given the fact that we're taught fat is bad from, oh, say, the womb, we might believe being ill is our just due for being fat?

Zan says what so many of us feel here:

I hate seeing new doctors. There's always the hesitation, the worry -- is this doctor going to take me seriously? Is she going to believe me when I describe my symptoms? Or is she going to dismiss it all because I'm a fat girl? Is she going to try to sell me on weight loss as the cure-all for my ailments -- which she doesn't even believe exist anyway.

I went to doctors for four years before I was initially diagnosed with Fibromylgia, then with Lupus. They all told me, to the man (and funnily enough, they were all men), that I was just stressed and overweight. If I learned how to relax and lost some weight, why all my pain would just disappear!

And so, I have a great fear of being dismissed and reduced to my weight when I see a new doctor.

And a couple of years ago, I talked about my experiences:

My PCP in my late 20s was a brusque woman who was absolutely appalled by my "choice" to be fat. I went to her for over a year, feeling that I deserved her insults, hoping they would spur me to do something. Some of the most memorable:
(When having me stand and stretch) "Stand with your feet together. Well, as close as you can get them."
(When I went to her crying with back pain) "You should really consider getting your breast size reduced. If you lose weight. As far as the pain, I'm not going to treat the symptoms if you won't remedy the underlying cause."
(During a routine check-up) "Your knees and back are going to be gone in a decade.
(During a painful Pap smear) "I'm sorry, but I have to press harder and really search for (whatever the hell she was looking for) in a woman your size.

Only after talking to some friends, who looked at me as if I was crazy when I talked about my experiences, did I realize I didn't have to take that treatment, that maybe every complaint I had was not an outgrowth of my being big. I mean, I went to the ER after the back fiasco and found out I had pulled a muscle and I'd never had a painful Pap before. I could be hurt or sick in a way unrelated to my size. That was amazing.

The latest incident involved an ER visit with a seemingly nice doctor who apparently decided I was a moron:
"What's bothering you?"
"Abdomen and lower back hurt badly. Really bad nausea. My doctor can't see me til Wednesday."
"Does it hurt when press here? Here? Can you jump? Does that hurt? Can you bend? Does that hurt? Has it gotten any better? Are you sure it's your abdomen and back? Do you think you could be pregnant?"
I answered each question patiently. Then he asks:"Have you eaten?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because of the nausea."
"What about it?"
"If I eat, I'll throw up. If I throw up, I can't stop."
"Oh. Well, are you hungry?"
"Um, no."
"Okay. Would you like someone to bring you something to eat?"
"No!"
"Fine. Are you sure you're not just hungry? Have you eaten anything?"
Five minutes of this until he decides that, despite the fact that I'm fat, maybe, just maybe, I'm not currently interested in food. Eventual diagnosis: bladder infection.

So many times, for me, going to the doctor has been like getting every negative message ever aimed at me for being fat condensed (and sharpened) into a 15-minute block. It's overwhelming, shaming, draining.

And it's why I hate going to the doctor's.

Easter

Yesterday, in the church vestibule:

My cousin Taia, goddaughter Alani, friend Azaria, my son, his little brother, and my nephew

Alani, Taia, Azaria

The Kid, his brother, my nephew

Ms. Alani, all by herself

My nephew and his soon to be stepsisters, Mari and Z. They weren't excited, at all, about taking a picture

My Own Cute Overload

Part of my newfound blogging commitment is a promise to myself to TRY to post five days a week for a while. Today, I'm taking the easy cute way out. Here is my three-and-a-half month old great-niece.

And just in time for Easter, here are her bunny slippers.

And no you may not have any kisses cuz this auntie steals all her sugar!
_________________________________________
*Dang, dates on digital cameras don't automatically set themselves, huh?

Stop, Please, Just... STOP

H/T Melissa

I haven't commented much on the train-wreck mess that is the build up to the presidential election, but I just got home from hours in a newspaper morgue to read people talking about Obama's "typical white person" comment. That, on top of the fact that he's being painted as guilty by association with Rev. Jeremiah Wright, and the fact that I'm tired as hell, just has my head about to blow.

And I want to say, stop fronting.

My mother is always proud to tell her friends, "I love my children, but I don't uphold them when they're wrong." To her, that means she's not one of those parents who believes her children are infallible or that everything her kids do is justifiable and right. We fuck up. We say and do wrong things. And my mom will tell us. She still loves us, is still ultra-supportive, but she will say, "elle, now that's just not right."

And I respect her and admire her for that. So, for all the people alleging that Obama "threw his grandmother under the bus" because he said she

once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and... on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.

Stop that. He did not throw her under a damned bus. He did not disown her or say he doesn't love her. He refused to uphold her wrong.

And for all the people alleging that Obama must be racist because of Rev. Wright's comments and Michelle Obama's remark about only being recently proud of this country... Stop fronting. Please stop acting like you have no idea why some African Americans might be a bit critical of this country, why the rose-colored glasses don't quite fit many of us. And I won't discuss how being patriotic might not mean hiding behind blind, "my country is the greatest thing evar" nationalism, but actually wanting the people of your country to strive to be better, to be fair and just. When your country veers off that track, then some analysis and criticism might be in order. Not necessarily like Rev. Wright's...

Oh, which brings me to another point. Stop fronting like all your concern is over what Rev. Wright said and not the least bit about how he said it. It would seem that Rev. Wright ignores the continual admonishments, both overt and subtle, for people of color "to watch their tone," to seem unthreatening, to fade into the background.

For all the people holding on to Obama's "typical white person" comment as if it prize carrion and you are starved vultures... Stop fronting. You are not as much concerned with what that comment meant as you are:

1) glad to have an acceptable excuse for why you can't possibly vote for him (knowing damned well you weren't in the first place)

2) peeved (as I read over and over) that neither HRC nor McCain "could make that comment about a person of color."

In fact, you're so up in arms over point number two that you fail to realize that saying that reveals what kind of comment you'd like to make; that you do, indeed, have some notions about a "typical person of color." I mean Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton wouldn't be as upset as you predict if you said something positive about the "typical black person."

And though it seems Obama's comment has been taken out of context, even if he had been saying the typical white person has "racist issues"... Stop fronting. You haven't been spouting that "I'm colorblind" line so long that even you actually believe it now, have you? You don't believe that the vast majority of white Americans can have been born in a country founded, in part, on white supremacist ideology (ideology that has been reinforced, perpetuated, upheld, SUSTAINED!) and emerged into adulthood having neither benefited from nor internalized any of that?

Stop!

And oh my God, the sheer hypocrisy of some conservatives trying to exploit "racial gaffes?" Many of whom are part of a party that pretends their southern strategy, anti-immigrant stance, and use of "code words" have nothing to do with race?

Grrrr.

And the infighting? Preceding this announcement

I rode with African Americans, walked down the street past midnight in an area that wasn't near safe, with African Americans walking beside me and behind me. I'm a whitey white Scots-Irish broad and I was never afraid of an African American coming towards me, and never once crossed the street

with

Can you imagine if Hillary Clinton said someone was a "typical black person?"

sort of defeats your purpose. (Please see above).

On second look, invoking your working-class credentials as proof of inability to be racist isn't all that convincing either.

When Does College Life End?

No, for real. If you haven't noticed, it's 2 a.m. and I'm still up prowling the internet. And this is not a one-time occurrence. One of the biggest differences between my friends and me is that most of them have standard, 8 to 5, five-day-a-week gigs. They go to bed the night before they have to wake up. They don't get up in the middle of the night and get on the computer.

I am still stuck in the college life. Granted, I won't sleep well into tomorrow afternoon (I wake my son up at 6:15), but I definitely am a night person. I developed that habit as an undergraduate and haven't shaken it. It fits, in a way, with my life-as-a-mama--I usually don't even attempt to work in the evenings until The Kid is in bed.

I still do my best writing in or around my bed (I preferred my bed to my desk in my dorm) and I'm still a horrible procrastinator. And I teach and hold most office hours on a Tuesday/Thursday schedule, so it really is reminiscent of yesteryear.

It's not that this is at all a big deal necessarily, but it does create a gulf between my friends and me. Our lives are out of balance. We schedule time together on the weekends, true, but I really prefer spending Friday nights lazing around and Saturdays doing some sort of work. On the other hand, if I have late-night cravings in the middle of the week, I can't call them to go to a neighboring town to get something to eat like I used to. Combine that with the fact that I was "in school" for years and years and I don't feel "grown up" in the same way that they are.

One example, living in a small town means that everyone knows when and where I work. You would not believe how many times I've heard, "Oh you work two days a week? I need that job!" My explanations about working from home and prepping for class and (finally) beginning revisions are ignored. The implication is that I don't have a "real" job--even my mom comes in on Mondays and Wednesdays and makes little comments if I haven't cleaned the house or done some task she thinks I should have time to do. When she asks, "What did you do today?" my skin crawls.

I knew my life was going to be different from most of my friends' and relatives'. And while these are only minor observations, I'm starting to realize how much.

Three Georgia Children Found Dead

Via Deidra:

A Georgia father [Eddie Harrington] who allegedly kidnapped his three children earlier this month has killed himself and the toddlers, authorities confirmed to ABC News.

The bodies were found in a rural industrial park area outside Columbus, Ga., where the family lived.

Please keep their mother, Agena Battle, in your thoughts and prayers. I can't even imagine her suffering.

A Sneak Peek

... at me! Here I am, preparing for one of my campus visit lectures. I am framed by my sister's foot on the left and Coti's on the right. I can't tell you how engaging, informative and riveting this presentation was.

***picture removed***

Here is my sister's reaction to the engaging, informative, riveting presentation.

From the WTF Files...

I think it's bad enough the people over at AOL's Black Voices have nothing more to say about Michelle Obama's accomplishments than "Jackie O" would approve of her fashion sense. But guess how this picture was captioned?* Line One:

Everyone in her family looks well-dressed and well-behaved.

Well-behaved? I'm thinking about that one in so many senses:
1) So nice clothes are indicative of conformity to approved standards of behavior?
2) Does the caption-writer think they were trained, like dogs, in appropriate behavior?
3) Does the well-behavedness of white people get commented upon?
4) Damn, do we really act out that much that we have to be patted on our heads when we appear "well-behaved?"

The second line of the caption?

Michelle is a great mother, even while working to get a president elected.

Reinforcing for us, once again, that being a great mother is typically incompatible with any other type of work. Competent and efficient working mothers? That's an anomaly, apparently.

It (almost) boggles the mind.
_____________________________________
*Actually, it looks like this image from another angle.

So Timely

Yesterday, while thinking about my junior class trip to the King Center, I went to the Center's website and saw excerpts from Dr. King's sermon, "The Drum Major Instinct." I found the full text in his papers. And there was something so timely about much of the sermon.

For example this southern/labor historian's heart jumped when she read Dr. King's analysis of the wages of whiteness:

The other day I was saying, I always try to do a little converting when I'm in jail. And when we were in jail in Birmingham the other day, the white wardens and all enjoyed coming around the cell to talk about the race problem. And they were showing us where we were so wrong demonstrating. And they were showing us where segregation was so right. And they were showing us where intermarriage was so wrong. So I would get to preaching, and we would get to talking—calmly, because they wanted to talk about it.

And then we got down one day to the point—that was the second or third day—to talk about where they lived, and how much they were earning. And when those brothers told me what they were earning, I said, "Now, you know what? You ought to be marching with us. [laughter] You're just as poor as Negroes." And I said, "You are put in the position of supporting your oppressor, because through prejudice and blindness, you fail to see that the same forces that oppress Negroes in American society oppress poor white people. (Yes) And all you are living on is the satisfaction of your skin being white, and the drum major instinct of thinking that you are somebody big because you are white. And you're so poor you can't send your children to school. You ought to be out here marching with every one of us every time we have a march."

And an encapsulated critique of the U.S. as warmonger:

God didn't call America to do what she's doing in the world now. God didn't call America to engage in a senseless, unjust war as the war in Vietnam. And we are criminals in that war. We’ve committed more war crimes almost than any nation in the world, and I'm going to continue to say it. And we won't stop it because of our pride and our arrogance as a nation.

And a wonderful sentiment , one that I think shapes the spirituality of people like my mom and Quaker Dave, one that I'm working and struggling to live by:

And so Jesus gave us a new norm of greatness. Recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant.... (I)t means that everybody can be great.... You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.

Since I Haven't Talked about the Kiddos in a While...

My son and nephew at the baby shower. Yes, one of my nephew's nicknames is Leno. I'll explain later.

"So," I asked of the great Internet Anagram Server, "What kind of aunt will I be to my new nephew?"

"A Garage Chalky Aunt," it replied, creating a nifty anagram of my real name!

My son and my nephew have decided they want to blog. And as I want to encourage any writing from them, I've begun the set-up process.

They also want myspace pages, but I'm a bit wary of that (they're nine and seven).

And, Lord, they get on the computer and google things!! They actually use that phrase.

You know, people tell you all the time that you'll look back and wonder where the time has gone. I really, really do.

My son and Coti. I think I've mentioned before that she's his favorite person in the whole world right now (his BFFFFFF, as he says).