Home Run

Let’s play a mini game. Take 5 slips of paper (it helps if the slips are of different colors, but they don’t necessarily have to be) and label them, “Family,” “Important People, “Can’t Live Without,” “Can’t Do Without,” and “Two Experiences”

On the first slip (Family) list your closest relatives, but they can only be your spouse and children. If you don’t have either, write “N/A”. On the second slip list 4 people in your life that mean a lot to you, who you need in your life and wouldn’t be the same without. On the third slip list 3 things you cannot do without that cannot fit in a carry-on bag, in other words this item cannot fit in the overhead bin of an airplane (i.e. your car, your house, etc.). On the fourth slip list 3 items you cannot do without, which can fit in a carry-on bag (i.e. cell phone, laptop, etc.) On the final slip list two experiences you had as a teenager, good or bad or both.

This was the icebreaker activity that I participated in during the first part of my volunteer orientation tonight. The activity was to get us to see how difficult it is to be a refugee, and to realize what is important to us.

Continuing with the activity… Your family cannot go with you, so tear up the first slip. Next, the individuals listed on your second slip did not make it to the safe neighboring country with you. For whatever reason, be it capture, murder, weakness. So tear it up. For safety reasons, everything listed on the third slip had to be left behind. Time is of the essence, and space is limited. The forth slip holds the only items you have to your name. And with these things, you will start your new life. Somewhere. Safer.

The last slip is an example to show us these refugees had lives, just like we did (do), but for whatever reason life was interrupted. Plans were changed, and action had to be taken. The conditions in which they were living became unsafe, life-threatening, and dangerous.

The icebreaker hit home for me, for so many reasons. The refugee sector I will be assisting in is specifically for youth, assisting them with college readiness, reading and thinking according to American’s school terms, empowerment and community service outreach.

My bleeding heart topics are the youth and education. I feel so strongly about them both it is a wonder I haven’t joined an agency like this one a long time ago, but I so feel the need to share the importance of stepping outside of our Americanized view of thinking and consider the challenges that someone possibly walking right next to us may have had to endure. The blog before last I talked about biases and racial judgments, and that issue still stands, but of course it’s not just about what we say but what we do. I wish I could walk around and touch everyone with an ungrateful mindset, but the truth is I have been guilty of it myself. And it’s so easy to let it happen! I may never know what it’s like to leave behind all you know, all you have, everything you are accustomed to in hopes that wherever I am headed next, whatever this next step is, will be better, any way better than what I have right now. The majority of us (Americans) may never. And I forget how much I should be thankful for, even when life is throwing me every hard ball that touches my sore spots.

Realizing our blessings is so much more important than getting an unexpected check in the mail, or booking that dream vacation. I am hoping this experience I am yet to embark on will help me to be a better person, to help me grow, and make me a positive force in someone’s (even if just one’s) life. And shouldn’t that be the goal of us all, at the end of the day? That every day we are one step closer to being the best we can be? We are never done; we can always use growth, improvement, and correction. And hopefully tomorrow I will a better person than I was today. If not just for me, for someone else.

I had battled for a brief second on how I wanted to close this one… but I think I’ll just end it right there. Peace y’all.

Learning Curve

I walked into a funny conversation with my coworkers. Two of them were talking about “being old” and going to school. One was adamant, “If I don’t have my degree before I’m 50, that’s it. Even if it’s just one more class. I’m done!” And it made me think about the value of education. Her view is, “Look? Who wants to hire an old person who’s going to be retiring soon anyway?” My view is, “Education isn’t just about getting a job though.” She said, “Well then, what you goin to school for?” I said, “To learn!” She just couldn’t wrap her head around why that would be worth anything.

First of all, in my sincere defense I attested, “Honey, 50 is not old.” And, furthermore, what’s wrong with wanting to study even if you’re not in the prime of your youth?

Georgia State University has a program called GSU 62: if you are 62 years of age or older you can attend GSU for free. I think it’s an excellent program! Not only for that working mother who missed her dream of graduating from college because she had a family to raise and a home to tend to, but also for the adult who is retired and wants to explore those disciplines he never could because life got in the way. In my eyes, if I could be paid to go to school that would be my heaven! I just like to learn. Maybe I’m a modern-day hippie. Yes, if I could tour the world sampling new foods, new places, while reading new books and learning new things, and didn’t have to pay a mortgage or work a full-time job to keep my butt off the streets, I would be living in complete happiness. Sucks I might have to wait until I’m close to 60 to do that though… Sure I have dreams of retiring early, but I don’t exactly have a “hustler mentality,” and those are the ones who “make it.”

But I digress. Back to the fruits of education.

So her claim that why would someone want to go to school if they’re not using it to apply to a job struck me as odd. Have we really gotten so far down the economic drowning pool that everything is looked at on a commerce scale? So is that the real reason why when the budget is tight the first programs to get cut are the Arts, because really… what can you DO with art? That’s a shame.

So I hinted, why not learn for the sake of learning? Because there’s all that information out there, so much that we haven’t learned or can’t learn in a 4 year- or 8 year- degree, why not just attend school “just because”? And maybe the degree won’t go toward a job requirement, or give me the raise I’ve been waiting for, but isn’t the knowledge from the experience that much more valuable?

An economist would probably spit his best coffee out at this article, but I am sincerely concerned. Why has the value of an education gotten lost in the bustle of money, job security, and/or promoting professions? I know that a particular professional pattern I’m interested in pursuing does require a higher degree, but my sole purpose of returning back to school right now is not to get a raise. I am fortunate enough to be employed for an institution that will pay for my classes, even in the Graduate level, so maybe my simple view of learning is lost among those who have to actually pay for it, but even if I didn’t have this perk I would be trying to figure out how I could learn just a little more… even if that included teaching myself through books and (albeit) the internet.

There must still be some value, some treasure, some enjoyment we can find in knowledge. Or is this world settled on being dumb and blinded unless a check comes attached to it? Hmm…

Bound in Biases

Last night I watched an episode of Cold Case where a young, black man living in the 60s was beaten and murdered, but the case went cold. His family was new in a northern town of mostly white neighbors. He accused a white man of raping his black female friend, who was a maid in the home of her accuser. Of course when she got up the guts to file a complaint she was humiliated in front of the police, the black guy was put in jail for assaulting a cop, and the next day he was found beaten bloody so much so that his mother barely recognized him.

Now I’m not usually one to strike up the race card, but the sad part is that stories like this one were all too common, and sometimes it shocks me (even now) to think of the hate that we as individuals are so capable of. At one point, specifically while enrolled in an African American Studies course during Undergrad, I found myself looking randomly at whites and wondering “If this was 50 years ago, how would you be treating me right now?” and that was a dangerous mentality to possess.

We have come very far, and to that I am grateful, but only sometimes in terms of black versus white. Racism is still prevalent today, even if sugar-coated by equal employment opportunities clauses and the freedom to enroll in any school of one’s choosing despite their color.

But we still have a long way to go.

Although we have moved away from turning our noses up at a black man/white woman relationship, many of us, and I think when I speak in terms of “us” it is mostly at Americans, but actually this epidemic spans world wide, too many of us toot our noses up at a roof worker because he looks to be “Mexican” or how many of us run a full body scan at a Middle-Eastern man or even do not think twice about labeling a middle-aged Asian woman someone’s nail lady? (and if you don't, good for you! Ones like you need to take note.)

Years of seed-planting and brain-washing, continuous episodes of finger-pointing and eye-rolling, decades of side-eyeing and under-breath mumbling has led us to a melting pot culture of unfair judging, one after another. Granted some of our fears may have weight, but for the most part we have been carrying on traditions that are not only hurtful, but detrimental to our growth. It hurts me when I hear young kids saying unkind words or making rude gestures toward someone of a different ethnicity, because those behaviors are contagious.

I want to think that some day the stigma that dark-skinned and light-skinned will never be equal will finally die off and get buried with the raped slaves and guilty slave owners who now rest in peace. I want to accept that all minorities will be given the same respect on the same playing field as their standard counterparts. I want to believe that we will let go of prejudices and phobias that have no more right to live than the Big Bang Theory. I want to. And if I live in a world of flowers and sunshine because of it, I hope there’s a world of others to join me.

Still, I do think that episodes like the one I saw last night, as painful as it was, are necessary. Remembering that we do have the ability to be so senseless, disgusting, and hateful are probably horrifying reminders of reality we shouldn’t push too far back on the shelves of history. 

The Office Relationship

Love in the office. Yay or nay? I would go with NAAAAAAAY, all the waaaaaaay. Send up the flares, ‘cause this boat is goin DOWN!

Okay, but seriously. I used to date a guy I worked with, and since then I’ve had a rule – I will not date anyone I work with. It just gets too personal, too sticky, and sometimes, too uncomfortable. I have seen a few successful ones, but for the most part: leave it out of the work doors.

Work is one of those places, for most of us, that we will be present at least 8 hours a day, for 5 days out of the week. Now you can love your boo all you want, but in my eyes I think there’s a fine line to draw with me-time, and work should be one of them. Not only do you have to be your professional self, which can get challenging if you’re not able to pull yourself away from affection or pet names, but I would think a person should just want a space where they don’t have the potential obligation of their partner in their cubicle all the time.

I’ll tell you a little story to explain my work-boo chagrin.

The guy I dated was in the same building as I but not the same department so there was a little room for caution. We were both extremely protective of our personal lives, and agreed to keep it to ourselves. Our secret remained hidden for as long possible. We would ride to work together but not go in together, meet for lunch somewhere off work grounds, talk discreetly and never mention anything about after-work, but you can only hide something for so long without someone being privy to your business, even if you’re a trained CIA operative gone undercover. It’s just how people are.

So naturally, someone eventually assumed our undisclosed connection. She just so happened to be the nosiest person in the office, who was constantly looking for someone or something new to dig into. She confronted me on the matter, to which I pretended I was completely oblivious of course. She then asked my then boyfriend, but neither of them cared for or liked each other too much, much to my convenience, so the beans never officially got spilled. Not officially. She went on about doing her “work” anyway… and that had nothing to do with our client files. To this day there is no doubt in my mind she was responsible for churning the rumor mill.

It’s one thing for coworkers to know your inter-office relationship because you decided to share the news. It’s another for them to know about it and you don’t know they know, but rumor has it so everyone “knows.” Conversations get awkward. Eyeballs are constantly shifting and adjusting to make face-to-faces more comfortable. Both sides want to say something, but neither knows where to start.

Like I said, it gets sticky. And if you already don’t like where you work, adding one more thing to make it that much more unpleasant sends you over the edge.

He and I kept up with our normal charades, even though at some point we both sensed the whole office knew what was going on, but supposed “What if everyone doesn’t, then we blew our cover for nothing so we might as well continue.”

Thankfully, my position there was a temp job and I was gone before going to work became embarrassing, but I will always remember the way I felt.

In some workplaces, romantic involvement is frowned upon, but I know that more secretive relationships occur than are recognized. For one, I could care less if two consenting adults who also happen to work together decide to explore non-agenda related items in their free time, but I say do so with caution. As with any relationship, once you cross those lines you can never go back. Ever.

So, live and love responsibly folks! We only live once, that we know of.

Bring on the Big Momma Draws!

Not too long ago, I texted a friend of mine, "You know what the worst part about single is?" *pause* I'm sure he thought the obvious lack of intimacy, or not having a sure date partner, or something along the lines of company. Obviously knowing how completely random and off-centered my brain can be sometimes he resisted the temptation to shoot back any of the obvious answers and finally just replied, "No. What?" I said, "I have no one to show my pretty panties to!" He texted back, "LMAO! You are crazy!"

That may be true, actually. But I was dead serious.

I won't lie, I haven't exactly enjoyed being single lately, but I'm not throwing myself to the masses either. I think there's a reason I'm single right now, so I'll take advantage of this time I have to work on me (which is obviously needed), no matter how much I don't like it - I've accepted it; that's the first step (or so I'm told). But one of the most annoying terms I've had to come to accept is that underneath it all, I'm dressing for myself. No one is going to barge in while I'm undressing and mistakenly see my matching sets with pretty lace. When I get in bed, it's just me and the comforter. And my dog, who, although I'm convinced is part-human, cannot appreciate the value of fine intimates.

It's that term, "intimates" that gets me the most. A fling doesn't deserve to see the good stuff. They're there for one thing, and it's not to marvel in the embroidery or technology of your seamless tank top bra. The absence of having a true, not imagined, official, not assumed, consensual, not forced boyfriend means unless there is some freak accident and you have a perv for an EMT, no one's going to appreciate or even get to acknowledge your Very Sexy coordinates.

Yes, that is the roughest bummer of all right now. I could see if I lived near a beach, then I might somehow be able to get away with some scanty undergarments as a "New Age bikini," but the closest beach to me is Lake Lanier, and not only is it too damn cold but that place isn't exactly Long Beach, Miami or Sin City. I'm sure I'd be locked up, and ordered to put on one of those ugly orange jumpsuits in no time. Then my mission to expose the cute, racy, scanty boy shorts would be dead on arrival.

I'm not sure when it will be my time to claim someone again. I think I'm at the point right now where I've just accepted that when you're not looking is when you actually find the One, so I'm busying myself going to group sessions, writing, volunteering, making money on the side, and reading until I feel like entertaining the flirty social spots again. In the meantime maybe I'll make my way over to Walmart and invest in some plain cotton undies, the ones that can be washed 50 times straight and only fade a couple of shades.

I don't want to indulge in them though. I've been contemplating sampling the dating scene again by my birthday - just in time for the warm weather and spring dresses. I mean really, I can't be wearing big mama draws under a cute lil dress! That deserves capital punishment!

Merry Christmas?

One of my biggest wishes is that folks just start being honest about what the Holidays are. Not what they were, how the started, but what they are. They are a cash-in for retailers, they are time off - paid, they are green and read and lights everywhere, they are festivities. It has little to nothing to do with Jesus (anymore - and I say anymore because the most devout Christians will sacrifice their own blood and their first-born to get you to believe it once was). And, for the record, let me say that I'm sorry now because I know I'm going to step on some toes. So, please accept my sincere apology; I hope you have on hard-top boots.


If you go back and do research on the the origin of Christmas, not only does the Bible not mention anything about it being wintertime, but commonsense would tell anyone that there is no way a perfectly sane mother (then again, maybe Mary wasn't sane; I mean, she was hearing voices - however divine they were. You try saying you hear voices today and they'll lock your butt up in an all-white padded room) would have her perfectly new, pure, Godly baby boy sitting outside in a box - no it wasn't a basket; Joseph was a carpenter, remember? - in the middle of winter. Contrary to belief, Jerusalem does get cold. C'mon son! What do you think?? But anyway, I'm not going to go into the whole history and myths of "Christmas" - just know this: the holiday was developed so folks wouldn't feel bad about celebrating. The end.


The main reason I have gotten myself to the point I am today, religiously, is that I question things, and I refuse to believe something just because everyone else does. My dad told me that since day 1 I have been a questioner. Asking questions about everything, and the habit only progressed. My dad's a lawyer, so maybe I get it innate to prosecute, research, dig for answers. I also like to do things when I like to do them because they make me feel good, not out of guilt - though in the past I have done some things for the very same reason and felt guilt later; no more of that! (But I digress again.) But my point is, the celebration is about the celebration. The feeling happy, the good cheer, poppin the sparklin bubbly, wearing reindeer bells, singing songs like a drunken heathen, havin a merry o jolly o time. I feel more inclined to congratulate folks buying into the Santa man than the baby Jesus fiasco.


And isn't that where we are today? Celebrating something totally unrelated to sweet baby Jesus? Cards, candy, turkeys, colors red and green - don't ask - gifts, wrappings, pine trees and poinsettias (which I love, by the way! So pretty and, ahem, FESTIVE). So wake up tomorrow morning and every morning and pray to the Father, in the name of the Son, thanking Him for all He has done for you, and yours, and all, and for sending His only begotten Son in exchange as a ransom for our sinful selves, but for goodness sake (I couldn't make myself say "God's sake") when you wake up Christmas day, enjoy yourself and have your fun, in the name of the season! That's what the holiday is for, not for Jesus. 


(And I know, everyone has a right to believe what he/she wants to believe... but this is my blog with my thoughts. Go 'head. Knock yourself out! *smile*)

Sometimes You Have to BREAK

I have chosen to take a break from social networking for a while. Actually, I have chosen to take a break from certain people, influences, and mediums altogether. Last week I had a jaw-dropping experience happen to me that made me question my sanity and the factors which lead to its deceptive face. As a result, it has occurred to me that I am not emotionally healthy, and until I am I must take a break from anything that corrupted my emotional state. As I'm not a doctor or a detective, everything is subject to search and suspicion.

One of the beauties I've always possessed, but not truly realized until my dad pointed it out to me last week, is the ability to GET IT. As simple as this characteristic may sound, you'd be surprised how hard it is to come by. It truly is a gift. I simply must be told something, taught something, shown something ONCE, and believe it or not, I get it. Growing up, I was the "good child." I seldom got in any trouble, and if I did, I only had to be disciplined for it one time. I got it. And I remembered. Now, I think this gift is going to be less of a trouble avoidance and more a survival technique. I want to be here, I want to be happy, and I want to get to what is keeping from that state so I can embrace it and never go back again. I want to get it, so I can got it, and I'm working on it, now.

The thing about social sites is you can't really be sure who you're dealing with. I mean, anyone can create a phony avatar and post feel-good phrases. But is that person really who they say they are? Until you meet them and get to know them you can't say you're absolutely sure this person is good for your life. And we share so much with strangers. We share our deepest, realest, most random thoughts, actions and stories; do we ever take into account that maybe too much exposure leaves us little to be imagined and/or enjoyed? Maybe because our lives are such an open book we may begin feeling that everyone should read it. But I don't think so. Actually, I'm beginning to think it shouldn't be that way. I only want good people, good energy, good feelings in my circle, and call me what you like if you don't make the cut.

It's been a rather awkward experience actually. I didn't realize how dependent I'd become on Facebook when I'd woke up Saturday morning and almost pressed that "f" app on my phone, but remembered I'd deactivated my account. So I decided to check the weather on my phone instead. And I forgot how used to sharing my every waking thought I was until I went to open my Twitter account and then decided, "No. Not yet." So I grabbed a glass of orange juice and dove into a book.

And I'm not sure what I'm looking to "gain" from all this; maybe nothing. But I will say it has been rather cool talking to people that I care about and who I know care about me again "regularly", texting, emailing, IM'ing... I've never been a big phone chatter. I'm just not. (And after working in a call center for 6 years it became a painful task for the most part) Sometimes it's draining, because I've always been a huge multi-tasker, so when I'm on the phone I'm trying to find something to do, but in the same light I have to pay attention and add commentary to the person on the other end.

I think too damn much. So? I know my flaws. Moving on...

So I've been texting more lately. And sincere texts, too. Not just, forwarding mass religious texts (I despise those things, by the way), but honest to goodness, I want to know how you're doing and that you're on my mind texts. And I hope the recipients of them know and feel I'm sincere. If there's one thing (well there's TONS actually) that I've learned through my most recent ordeal it's to be real with myself, my feelings and others. Genuineness will NEVER go out of style, and if it does I'll be the first to "bring it back" along with a pager, polka dots and Coogi sweaters, because I don't want ANY ONE to not be real to me, and I won't sacrifice me for anyone anymore either.

Now social sites do have their benefits; I get that. All the way. Which is why my withdrawal may not be permanent. I've met some amaaaaaazing people through Facebook, and gotten some awesome natural hair ideas from the #naturalhair divas on Twitter, but first and foremost I know I'll do so when I'm ready to share me with the world again, and when I feel the world is ready again, and deserving, of my light. Some recent events almost put my light out, like ice cold water to a hot bulb. But someone, a few someones, grabbed the lighting fixture just in time and covered the bulb before it's sizzling death. They saved my light. It's still there. And it's getting stronger than ever.

See you on the other side real soon! But not too soon :-)