Rihanna.

back in february, there was the letter...now the Oprah interview. 


i'm going to try to keep this under 10-page-term-paper length.

first, i think many folks are forgetting how young these two were and still are.  i'm about 10 years older than Rihanna, which means she's younger than my baby brother.

i also wonder how many folks are looking at the situation far removed from the dubious relationships of their 20s.  'cause you know what they say about hindsight.  and many of those lessons--horrifically painful or just a little heartbreaking--are necessary for us to grow into our full selves at 30something and beyond.   i want to save them from that as much as anyone. but the reality is that sometimes you just can't.

secondly, i'll repeat what i always say when we hear about the latest celebrity divorce, infidelity scandal or whatever: no one knows what's gone on behind closed doors.  intimate relationships are complex, nuanced, messy things. in love, we forgive what we'd kill someone else for thinking.  we don't know what conversations they've had, who went to what therapist, what late night conversations were had--on the phone or otherwise.

we also don't know--with the exception of Chris' admission to growing up seeing the "too much" too many black boys do--what they come from. who their examples were.

yes, kids always look up to the "cool".  i loved my teen idols as much as anyone else.  but you know who kept me from imitating every move, hairstyle, and wardrobe choice?  my parents.

i'm aware of and sensitive to the fact that not everyone has the same guidance.  but that doesn't make Rihanna an automatic role model any more than Madonna was in her day, or Etta James in hers.  we could debate the pros and cons of that...but i think too many folks forget to ask why familial and community-based relationships are so lacking.

kids who have to create fantasies to escape their realities are indicative of much bigger fish that need frying.  girls who don't have someone to protect them from dating an around-the-way-Chris are not going to stop dating men who beat them because Rihanna takes a stand.  they'll continue to blame her (and other victims), ask what she did to provoke it, and keep trying to be perfect to avoid their own assault...until they heal.  Rihanna talks about this sort of revelation in her time with Oprah.

on the flip side, every girl with a daddy worth the name knows that if they come home with a face looking like Rih-Rih's did, somebody's gonna die. full stop.    

we also seem to forget that because we have more access to celebrities than ever before, we're seeing more unfiltered versions of their lives.  the machines that surrounded many of our old school artists now only work for the biggest of the big (see: Beyonce).

and even then: we know what happened when Marvin met Janis. Ray Charles' heroin issues were all over the news.  and the Beatles damn near shot themselves out of the sky for being arrogant enough to proclaim themselves bigger than Jesus.

celebrity is celebrity.

life is life.

before judging someone in Rihanna's shoes, we'd do well to remember that. 

love, lust, and the in-between: thoughts on street harassment

{trigger warning: discussion of street harassment, sexual coercion}

in the spirit of some of my other musings (see: the slutty posts and the "what's natural" piece), i'd like to share something that's been on my mind, even though it might get me yelled at.

well...maybe not.  every time i've thought that was going to happen, it hasn't.  instead i get yelled at for things i think are pretty straightforward.  go figure.

each year as spring and summer take their sweet time getting here approach, sistas in my internet circles start speaking out about what's commonly known as street harassment.

i understand the concerns, particularly when there is actual physical intrusion involved.  and, as always, age, class, sexuality and certain physical characteristics can serve as buffers and offer privilege.  

i know the game has changed.  case in point: my ex was stabbed 'cause a woman wouldn't give a dude her number, and he intervened when the dude got outta hand. 

i know there are intersections with domestic violence, rape, coercion and other forms of sexual violence. i stand with women who feel uncomfortable being approached in an overt and/or crude manner--for whatever reason(s)--and i defend their right to defend themselves, if necessary. 

i also agree that some men are too quick to presume all women are comfortable with the same level(s) of approach, touch, and closeness.  i am not better, more special, nicer or "easier" than my friend because i'll let you hug me or rub my shoulders after knowing you for an hour (if you're cute.  maybe. ask me tomorrow.) and she won't.

we are not all the same woman in different skin.  stop that.


no, we should not be called outta our names.
no, a stranger should never fondle his genitals at the sight of you.
no, men shouldn't hiss, click, whistle or snap when they can otherwise speak.

our anger at those things is justified, a righteous, powerful tool that propels us towards gaining our just due.

yes, men should know better.
yes, male egos shouldn't be so fragile.


but...i also see complexity in this. 

as a daddy's girl and a woman who deeply loves men, i sometimes regret the ways we have this conversation.  it's a shame we've come to a reality where a woman has to consider all this when receiving an appreciative--albeit lusty--glance* or a good-intentioned request for a smile.**

i wonder what's been lost because many women have difficult, non existent, or deeply damaged relationships with their fathers and other men in their lives.  how does it hurt us when we've never lived with a man who was genuinely invested in our unique gifts and general awesomeness?

what would happen if we could hear a brotha say, "wow...you're beautiful" and genuinely reply, "thank you"--whether we wanted to exchange information or not?

i ask because i have a tendency to dig until i get to the root.  and in this situation, the root doesn't always feel like sexism or street harassment. it feels like broken hearts and shattered trusts.

as we fight against patriarchy, kyriarchy, and an encyclopedia's worth of -isms, it's important to understand the layers of interpersonal healing woven into these structures.

intellectualizing and analysis is very necessary, but we must avoid using it as a heart-shield.  remember to fight the real enemies, heal the real wounds, mourn the real losses. 

it is essential that we find time to love, to enjoy one another, fall into bliss.

i believe there are moments when we can afford that.

let's not lose that in the struggle.



*which they ALL do. even the sweet, artsy, wonderfully enlightened ones. hell, especially them. often, it's what they do AFTER the glance that matters.

**which might actually be genuine, if corny or ill-timed.  

the singlehood chronicles #10: 2 years later

i fit "the demographic": never married, over-30 Black woman.

the kicker: no kids.

trust me, i am not about to delve into the sickening, desperate/despondent, wedded-to-an-endangered-species trope which, in my opinion, is a distorted, hastily drawn conclusion about a complex issue.

still, my reality puts me in a distinct position even in my closest circles. i am slowly becoming The Only One, especially when it comes to motherhood. 

for now, i don't have the cold hard cash to ball my way through my blues.  the velvet glove on that iron fist would be much thicker if i did.  and although i'm still rather ambivalent about mothering and do not long for a child, several dynamics shift when the worlds of others revolve around babies and yours still revolves around...well, you.  

what's frightening is that love and loving has never felt as difficult or elusive as it does now.  i cannot remember a time when i've been this deeply, absolutely single.  for most of my life i've been involved in some kind of love relationship--not because someone told me i "had" to, or even because i sought them out.  they felt right for their time and were easy to find.  i took breaks at will, and it was easy to pick it back up.     

true, i've been focused on several other things over the last 3-4 years, and  i definitely consider myself blessed.  i'm enormously proud of what i've achieved, and i love my friends and the people in my life.  i'm grateful to have the support of my birth and chosen families.

but the clouds creep in more often now, and they're a little more articulate than usual.

i'm human.
i'm a woman.
a woman who has loved and been loved deeply and well.

i can't unlearn that love, or forget it.  no matter how many days i "wish" i could, i know i wouldn't trade those experiences for the world.

but for now, it makes sense to commit to living for myself, and living well.  my hope is to create a life that will allow me to care for myself and realize my dreams--whether there's someone to share it with or not.

i remain open to love, family and the rest, but i've gotten beyond mourning the lack of it.

clearly i'm meant for something outside the "usual" configuration.

time to go out and discover what that something is.
 

{for the other "singlehood" posts, click here.}

light and dark

a few nights ago, someone posted Alexyss Tylor's latest on tumblr and i went ahead and watched.  after that, i happened to find a Vice magazine piece where she told a bit more of her story.

now, i have a couple of issues with her--similar to the ones i have with Kola Boof, minus the twitter experience--but i also have a new-found respect.  she's a survivor.  i don't always dig the way she gets the word out, but i understand that she speaks to realities i have not lived and pains i do not know. 

i've noticed that many women labeled "crazy" or "wild" carry an abundance of Dark Goddess energy.  Her names are many: Kali, Nana Buluku, Pomba Gira, Pele, Maman Brigitte, Iyaami, Ezili Je Rouge, Sekhmet.  all-seeing eye havin, fire-spittin, ass kickin and name takin Divinity.  the Mama that brought you in and will take you out.

in this incarnation, my path stresses peace, light and balance, but i am aware that many sistas choose differently.  i can hardly blame them; the help and privilege i've been afforded don't come to all of us.   


when tragedy strikes or for those born into or out of pain, despair, and struggle, the light doesn't always make it through.  sometimes the darkness comes first, and it comes strongest. 

using the dark to heal is dangerous; it is the underworld journey, lonely and fierce.  the light is safer, calmer, sweeter.  but no matter the road, deep healing always carries the risk of no return.  you can get lost in the dark, struggling against your own demons. you can go too far into the light, becoming neglectful and drifting into the next world before your time.

only those who remain on the surface forget the sanctity of balance.

so to Kola, Alexyss and others i say: there but for the grace of God/dess go i. 


it's not an endorsement, or full agreement. i have my reasons for sticking to my way, as they do. still, i know that my way is only a way, not the way, and i'm not gonna reach everyone with it. 


this is a recognition.  an understanding. 


i'm in my lane, they're in theirs, but we're all on the highway to the same destination: the empowerment of our sistas and the reemergence of Goddesshood.  

Menhit: the "other" lioness

my exploration of a Nubian lioness who became a fixture of Kemetic spirituality.

shock value & solutions

{trigger warning: video contains mention/images of domestic violence, injury}

wow...um...ok.

i understand and appreciate the sentiment.  and i sincerely agree that black folks--perhaps sistas in particular--will have to pool our resources in order to uplift and empower ourselves.  {something we used to do in big ways, in case you didn't know}.

one of my personal dreams is to have a home large enough to help sistas and babies in just this way.

but i have some serious concerns about the presentation of the solution.   

for one, "blackistan" is horrifically insensitive.  "-stan" is a suffix meaning "land" in many languages (eastern euro/ slavic/ asian), and has positive connotations.  many, many folks have died to be able to rename their ancestral lands on their terms--just as we have.   

where does "-stan" have negative connotations? the western eurocentric/american media.  which i'm sure the makers of this video do not mean to align themselves with. 

the above sentence is the last time you'll see me use that word.  i pray it doesn't catch on.  

the second thing that smacked me was the deep tone of internalized oppression.  who thinks anyone is living like that because they want to?  but more on the economic justice angle later.

even within some of our worst communities, there have been places that were respected and protected: safe houses, homes of community elders, etc.--sometimes by the very "thugs" we demonize.  having the Fruit of Islam provide security within housing projects and at community events worked well for decades.

as i move through baltimore, dc and other urban areas, i still see this kind of oasis around community centers, certain homes and offices.  the key? seeing and serving the community from a base of respect and mutual cooperation.  trust and believe: there have been mechanisms of protection and respect within the 'hood, and there can be again.* 

we also have to be careful of tossing around the "ex-con" label.  these men didn't do what they did because they'd been in jail. they did what they did because they were/are sociopaths.  not all sociopaths are currently or have been imprisoned, and being imprisoned doesn't turn everyone into one.    
    
which leads me to my next point: we all have healing to do.  the mental health issues that form the backdrop of these individual cases and the state of our people as a whole will not magically disappear.

i rejoiced over the Kenyan women's village when it first came to light.  but i also understood that their cultural and spiritual base allowed for that kind of cohesion and community in a way that ours might not--at least not without a lot of work.  sistas who would be open to this kind of arrangement have probably already done a fair bit of reprogramming to get to that stage.

how do we overcome the pervasiveness of the idea that you can't trust another woman, or that two women can't live amicably in the same home?

how soon would these arrangements fall apart if or when someone accuses the sistas of being queer or lesbian? 

remember i mentioned economic justice?  how many sistas facing these living conditions receive benefits from the state?  how does that restrict their income and general mobility?

i noticed one of the comments mentioned that women should start the process with family members, which many folks do--either by choice or circumstance.  the catch: that still doesn't make it easier (financially) to get outta the 'hood.** 

i'm not saying the folks who made this video are not prepared to face these questions--they may very well be.

but, as i always say: go deeper.  don't stop with the soundbites and the quick, feel-good fixes.  



* i'm aware that this has changed greatly with the emergence of a younger generation that often has no understanding or respect of the "rules"--that's a problem.  you also don't see sistas being offered much protection unless they're the "right" kind of sista.  another problem.  

** remember: statistics lie, and you can't always judge a book by its cover. a woman who's single (on paper) doesn't necessarily lack a loving partner and/or co-parent.  folks are workin it out. eff what ya heard.  it's also important to note that marriage is a problem if you need assistance, and it's been that way for years.

learning to forgive...myself

as i've lived this thing called life, i've learned that i can readily forgive others.  there is very little--especially these days--i take personally.  holding grudges has never been my thing. 

but i am very rough on myself. 

one of my gifts is that i'm able to see many, many angles at any given time.  i enjoy weaving all sorts of tangents into meaningful tapestries. 

the darker side?  for every mistake i make, for every relationship that doesn't work, any time life goes "wrong", i see those angles, too.

my hindsight is merciless.  it has often reduced me to a mess of tears and (internal) anguish.

rationally, i'm completely aware that although i can see down many roads, i cannot control the actions of another.  no matter what i "see" or "know", i'm not always going to be able to protect myself from someone else's outwardly manifested dysfunction, pain, or heartache.

i also know that acting out of love, concern, friendship, or plain kindness is never wrong in and of itself.  it's how we all should strive to be.

i understand that it's unfair to hurt myself because those actions were either used against me, taken for granted, or ignored.  

on the whole, i make good choices.  i weigh consequences.  i learn well from my mistakes.  i do not repeat myself if i can help it.  i know how to move on and stay gone--and if i reopen the door, it's on my terms.     
 
even with all that, i can still come to a place where i {unconsciously} think, "damn. i messed up. [doesn't matter what "they" did. i probably forgave them already anyway.] i have to punish myself by depriving myself of [some good thing] until i can do it perfectly and without injury."

after awhile, i'm hurting because i miss the good thing, but can't figure out how to reclaim it.

it's a painful, vicious cycle.

the silver lining? i also hold the gifts of self-awareness and a determination to heal.  no way over but through has become a sort of motto.        

since i've been able to name this, i've realized that this behavior is one of those ego-based patterns that keeps me the worst kind of "safe"--the kind that keeps you from living broadly and deeply.

so...there's work to do.

reminders: 

• forgiving yourself is just as important as forgiving others, if not more so.* 
• i refuse to carry what is not mine. 
• i will not give myself problems i do not have.
• there are no coincidences. everything happens for a reason.
• i incarnated to learn lessons.  i cannot always predict how they'll manifest. i am grateful that, with time, i almost always understand the reason and learn the lesson.
• God/dess controls whatever i cannot. let Divinity work.

*to be clear, there is a difference between accountability (i.e. being aware of what you bring to a situation/space, taking responsibility for actions that may hurt or offend others, etc.) and self-forgiveness.  triflin is triflin--or, ratchet is ratchet as the kids say.  some of the "forgive yourself!" rhetoric out here sounds more like excusing bad behavior than anything else.

cake & Kola

Kola Boof is...complicated. to put it mildly. i followed her on twitter for awhile; she could drip honey or spit fire, and you never quite knew what words would invoke either. still, she was nothing if not true to herself, and i sincerely respect folks that unabashedly speak their minds.  at least you know who you're rollin with.  

that said, i felt the points she made here about the Swedish cake controversy, particularly when she says that the voices of infibulated women have often been silenced.

i do not support "savior complex" solutions that roll all over cultural realities to make their points or save the "poor, defenseless womenfolk" of a particular place.  ideally, it's better to have women and girls come to those realizations, and implement their visions and plans with support from others, if necessary.

even then, we should not assume that any community is a monolith.  there will be a range of opinions and stories, and not everyone will see a "problem" to be solved.

it is, and is always, complicated.

would i want this to ever happen to any girl, anywhere? no. however, i do understand that not undergoing such procedures can have drastic effects--consequences i as an individual am not, at this stage in my life, able to mitigate in any real way, and that many organizations do not plan for.

often, the reality is: no husband means no food and no shelter.  period.  

should it be that way? no.

be wary of issue silos that neglect a holistic picture. given the artist's lack of vision and the lack of sensitivity from the folks consuming it, i'd say they fell victim to exactly that mentality.*


*there is a video of the "performance", but i found it a bit too unnerving to link to. you can easily find it via google. 

a note on clarity

an almost-brief statement about walking the road to clarity, with some assists from the mineral realm.

blessings!

Sango, head of my life

reflections on Oba Koso

MLK vigil - DC, 4.4.2012

last night, i attended a vigil at the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial, marking the 44th year since his assassination on April 4, 1968.

it was a beautiful evening for it: warm with a lovely sunset, soft breezes tossing around the last of the cherry blossom petals.

there was some old school baptist singing from a men's choir. A Phi A was out in force. Dick Gregory walked right by me on his way to the VIP area {he looks great!}. the grandchildren of Gandhiji and Cesar Chavez spoke. everyone focused on renewing calls for peace, holistic nonviolence, and justice. 

i expected folks of all colors and variations to be there, and i wasn't disappointed.  plenty of black folks, too--from bourgie buppies to loc'd elders. i was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few children.  a troop of girl scouts handed out electric candles.

all in all, it was a lovely event.

the only thing missing was heart.

everything moved along in a nice, neatly packaged way.  the choir sang with little input from the crowd.  one speaker got the crowd's energy going, but the momentum didn't seem to last long.

there were jackbooted cops everywhere.  the woman reverend that prayed as the wreath was laid didn't have a mic, so those who were not close to the foot of the statue couldn't hear her.  there was no real closure at the conclusion of the vigil, but there was a lovely tone of softness and congeniality.

i'm not saying i expected full on ch'uch to break out--after all, it was a vigil.  but even at crunchier events, i've gotten used to spontaneous chanting, singing...a more participatory vibe. 

so what's my point?

we all know MLK's fire has been dampened by those who would prefer to forget that he called attention to the systems and powers that kept folks oppressed in this country; that he did not speak of simply turning the other cheek and meekly inheriting the world.

we also know that the civil rights movement began as a people's movement.  national attention came slowly, and even at its height, the majority of america was interested in maintaining the status quo and/or plain ol' survival.

i got here too late to know the 60s and 70s firsthand; i was born nearly a decade after MLK's passing.  i barely remember the 80s.

but i can remember a pre-9/11 world.

it seems that over-organization and police presence override the spirit of just about any gathering outside un-policed cultural events or the occasional drum circle.  these days, anything official feels sanitized and thinned out in the interest of keeping us--or someone--"safe".

even the electric candles--although i understand the implications of using traditional ones in such a maintained space--seemed like cheating. 

i don't have any hopes that that will end soon.  

still, i'll have to start keeping an eye and ear out for "people's gatherings" outside the confines of bureaucratic propriety.

whether solemn or celebratory, that's where the true spirit lies. 


update: text article from the washington post here. 

where to find me (mostly)

i'm finding that i'm using the tumblr site far more these days, especially for spiritual musings.

i'll still keep posting videos here, and i'll take some time to "backtrack" and link to the tumblr posts.  that way, folks who are used to visiting this site can see what's going on there.

one of these days i'll get all this stuff integrated into one place...that's the dream.

be well.

Mwt Nut ~ YeYe Yemonja

a cross-cultural love letter to two of my Mothers.

a note on Cleopatra

why Liz Taylor might not have been such a bad casting decision.

the Divine Feminine in KMT and beyond

setting the record straight on spiritual patriarchy.

his name was trayvon martin.

just a few thoughts on the trayvon martin case...

if you haven't heard the news, google will get you all the information you need.

choosing battles: privileged neglect vs. hate

once, someone shared a wise sentiment with me: they're not always out to get you, sometimes they just don't care.

of course, the result might be similar or the same, but that perspective cuts through a lot of paranoia and fear.  in a world full of ever-present boogeypeople, you can scare yourself right into apathy or inaction if you aren't careful.

however, if YOU care, that's power. 'cause you might get someone else on the bandwagon.

the folks who are supposed to hate us so much continue living life--their perceived evils and imbalances notwithstanding--while too many of us have stopped living to shoot at shadows.

if they were that obsessed with coming for us, they'd get little else done.  but much still gets done. has been getting done.

to be certain, much of it is not in our favor, to our advantage, or for our health because they don't care. 

but that's not the same as hate.

that's not the same as a genocidal master plan.

and it does not (always) equate to sitting down each day to decide how to specifically kill, maim or destroy [insert just about anyone not male / western-euro descended / hetero here].

am i saying no one is out to get "us"? no. quite the contrary. there are a few who've made it their life's work, for reasons that would take another blog or three to lay out.

but i don't think that's the majority.

i think the majority are riding a wave of conquest and privilege they don't understand the root of.  they don't care because they don't have to; their circumstances allow them to reap the benefits, and that has the potential to make all but the most aware rather indolent.

i don't choose to lie awake thinking about folks who don't care about me, nor do i see the point in viewing my life as a never-ending battlefield.

i do choose to care more than they do.  i need to see and relate to the people they don't.  i am committed to learning, listening, doing my part in my little corner of the planet.   

it might not be much, but it's what keeps me sane.

the list {estab. 2008}

it's been four years since i wrote the list.

despite all the changes i've undergone--and there have been some major ones--it still works really well as a framework for my ideal mental, emotional, and spiritual state of being.

do you have a list, or something like it? how has it shaped your life, your perceptions? has it changed?

...not that you have to answer me out loud or anything. just a few thought questions.

the year's still relatively new, and spring's fast approaching.

get a little piece of that change.

a soul ajar

i am opening.
and being opened.

this terrifies me.

i realize that, outwardly, i am not what anyone would call "closed". i am quick to smile, laugh, connect with people.

this, however, is an opening to the whole of myself, to seeing and manifesting all that i have within to make my life what i need and want it to be, finally.

exciting as that sounds, the closures have been a lifetime in the making--catalyzed by fear of being misunderstood, the pain of ridicule and separation, the desire to be "like everyone else".

it's true that i no longer fear myself, but this next step almost feels more daunting than releasing that anxiety.

i realized that releasing the fear would make me more comfortable.  i don't know what this opening is going to look like.  i do know it's going to require a lot of trust and faith. 

it's also one more thing i have to face "alone", which is enough to make me want to hide under the covers until it goes away.*

in the end, though, the process will be the same: eventually my ego takes over and refuses to let this--or any other bump in my emotional road--"beat" me, and i commit to making myself feel better.

so i suppose i should just get started.    



*lately i've been almost hyperaware of what's lacking in my intimate life. whooooole other blog. which i probably won't write here.

the fabulous margaret cho

i cannot express how deeply i identify with this:

I fly my flag of self-esteem for all those who have been told they were ugly and fat and hurt and shamed and violated and abused for the way they look and told time and time again that they were "different" and therefore unlovable. Come to me and I will tell you and show you how beautiful and loved you are and you will see it and feel it and know it and then look in the mirror and truly believe it. If you are offended by my anger and my might at defending my borders and my people you do not deserve entry into my beloved and magnificent country.

i've had relationships that were about this. my goddess...

but...her message is much bigger than this quote. read on.