Just So You Know

Let me start this by saying if at any time you read a message that compels you to a response, by all means... feel free to continue the learning. You DO NOT have to leave your real name or any name for that matter. When you click "post a comment" or however it reads, you have 3 options. Once on the actual comments page, you'll see prior replies as well. Then there's the 'leave a comment' field. Under that are CAPTCHA and 'choose an identity' (name) options. CAPTCHA is designed to slam SPAM as well as let me know a human is posting vs. a computer generated response. Again, I do not consume beef nor pork so SPAM is not welcomed. Even a photograph of it bothers me. Ok, not really but you get my point and hence you will see the moderation message when you've finalized your post. The identity/name options are as follows:

1) Log-in using (drop down menu for those registered with those services)

2) Nickname and URL - allows you to choose any name and/or link your site to it

3) Anonymous (you can use it but I still have the right to decide if it gets published publicly or not - GOOD FOR ME - YAY!!)

So there ya go. Send me $49.99 if you use these instructions in your own BlogSpot. Cash, cashier's check, money order and Western Union accepted 24/7. :D

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Go and hug your "Michael" by Dr. Maya Angelou

Yesterday I cried watching the Michael Jackson memorial. I cried for a
little black boy who felt the world didn't understand him. I cried for
a little black boy who spent his adulthood chasing his childhood. And I
thought about all the young black boys out there who may too feel that the world doesn't understand them. The ones who feel that the world does not
understand their baggy jeans, their swagger, their music, their anger, their struggles, their fears or the chip on their shoulder. I worry that my son, may too, one day will feel lonely in a wide, wide world.

I cried for the young children of all colors who may live their life
feeling like a misfit, feeling like no one understands their perspective, or
their soul. What a burden to carry. As a mother, I cried for Katherine Jackson because no mother should ever bury a child. Period. And I think about all the pain, tears and sleepless nights that she must have endured seeing her baby boy in inner pain, seeing him struggle with his self-esteem, and his insecurities and to know he often felt unloved even while the world loved him deeply. How does it feel to think that the unconditional love we give as mothers just isn't
enough to make our children feel whole? I wonder if she still suffers thinking, "what more could I have done?" Even moms of music legends aren't immune to mommy guilt, I suppose.

When Rev. Al Sharpton ("who always delivers one" awesome "funeral
speech") said to Michael's children, "Your daddy was not strange... It was strange what your Daddy had to deal with," I thought of all the "strange"
things of the world that my children will have to deal with.
Better yet, the things I hope they won't ever have to deal with anymore. And as a mother raising a young black boy, I feel recommitted and yet a little confused as to how to make sure my son is sure enough within himself to take on the world. Especially a "strange" one. To love himself enough to know that even when the world doesn't understand you, tries to force you into its mold or treats you unkindly, you are still beautiful, strong and Black. How do I do that?

Today, I am taking back "childhood" as an inalienable right for every
brown little one. In a world, that makes children into booty-shaking,
mini-adults long before their time, I'm reclaiming the playful, innocent,
run-around-outside, childhood as the key ingredient in raising confident adults. Second, I will not rest until my little black boy, MY Michael, knows that his broad nose is beautiful, his chocolately brown skin is beautiful, and his thick hair
is beautiful. And nothing or no one can ever take that away from him.

"Now ain't we bad? And ain't we black? And ain't we fine?"

Maya Angelou


  1. No one else could have written words from my heart! I used to think to myself, "When is my son going to give up those Nerf dart guns?" Now I'm glad that I allowed him to play in peace. Unfortunately, Michael wasn't afforded the opportunity to play. Beautiful letter.

  2. We need to repost this like I don't know WHAT!! It had me near tears when I think of myself and others out there who weren't allowed to just be a KID. Thanks for stopping by Tluv. Your support is TRUE NUFF!!


Criticism, Feedback and/or Suggestions Always Welcomed!! Anonymous posts are moderated and reviewed for allowed public content guidelines.