blackroot in bloom

Butternut & Bleu Cheese Casserole

2011-10-16T17:21:00.001-07:00

Move over, red lentils! Butternut squash is my new squeeze!

OMG, I could NOT wait til tomorrow to post this! I can barely keep my spoon out of this super tasty and super simple dish.

The Goods
2 lbs butternut squash
3/4 cup medium onion, thinly sliced
3/4 cup breadcrumbs
4 tbsp olive oil, divided
1/2 cup bleu cheese (yum!)
3/4 tbsp sage
salt and pepper

1) Steam the butternut squash. I wish I could tell you how I did that. Uh...I cut it open and put it face down in the oven, on 375 degrees, for about 20 minutes. Then I peeled off the skin and cut it into 1/2 inch cubes. Afterwards, turn the oven up to 400 degrees for later.

2) Breadcrumbs. Cut up one piece of (multi-grain or oat-y) bread and dice it in the food processor. Makes between 1/2 and 3/4 cups. Toss the bread crumbs with about 2 tbsps olive oil. Set aside.

3) Combine squash cubes, sage, salt and pepper, and the remaining 2 tbsps olive oil in a large bowl. Coat a large oven dish with cooking spray. Pour in the squash mixture. Bake in the oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes.

4) Sprinkle the bleu cheese over the squash. Then mix in the breadcrumb mixture. Place in the oven for another 10 minutes, or until the whole thing gets lightly toasted.

5) EAT IT!!!

(I found today's recipe here)

Making Room For More!

2011-10-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

My new mantra is Making Room For More! Yes, I finally get it: Pay attention to my gut. It lets me know where and when to make changes so I can let the light in.

For instance,I went down to Occupy DC this week. I was informally interviewing people and making observations of the grounds. I felt uneasy the whole time. It wasn't the uneasiness I feel when I'm the only POC in a (supposedly) social justice space. It wasn't the uneasiness of being conspicuous, because the park is downtown and the camp has a decidely hippy and homeless feel to it and I was neither in K St attire nor liberal chic.

No. It was this stomach tightening tension that came from my urge to leave fighting with my feeling compelled to stay. I was gritting my teeth. I already felt exhausted. Occupy DC viscerally brought back the burnout I felt back home in Seattle. The burnout from using puny strategies against Goliath-like opponents. And the worst--that bitter metallic taste when you realize that your supposed allies and compadres are indeed your biggest obstacles.

Several black folk told me it wasn't about race or making demands. Everyone was happy enough just to be camping with other unemployed and frustrated people. Ok. Clearly, we have different objectives. One white woman argued that 'facades'--her word for identities, as in race, sexual identity, religion, etc--aren't issues for anyone anymore(deep deep deeeeep breath) even as she admitted in the same breath that she was initially deterred from the encampment because she didn't see herself--lesbian Latina--represented.

I thought about all the concessions I would have to make to stay involved. Was I ready to be the odd man out? To have tedious conversations day in and day out? Was I gonna suck it up and try to conform? I thanked the volunteer cook for the eggplant soup (free and frigging delicious!) and left to ruminate.

My feelings weren't nearly as tortured when I met with a local labor org a week a later. I was excited! On time and everything, lol! Ideas were sprouting like beanstalks from magic beans! This group was speaking my language--analysis, actions, demands! Hallelujah! I can see clearly how my accumulated experience could be an asset to their plans--and so can they! They are open to my constructive criticism and I am willing to give their leadership a chance. Yes, there are bits of resistance but, overall, there's much more positive traction with this group than the others I've met.

Which group do you think I'll be giving my time to?

In making room for more, I am sidestepping that which deplets me to focus on that which feeds me. I want to work with others, not against them. No more me-against-the-world scenarios.

My new mantra has had implications for my relationships as well. In an expansive mood, I've been reaching out to fallen off friends. The results has been fruitful and gratifying. It warms my heart to pick up the phone and talk as if time never stopped. These are my people! They get my self-expression, they're supportive and they challenge me. I am glad that the space I had let out between us was right. We've grown. Our paths to the important things share similarities. Our friendship never died, we just had to have our own experiences so we could get perspective.

In making room for more, I've even cut people from my shit list and unblocked people on facebook. Surprising, I know! Evolve, Scorpio, evolve, lol! It has been sooo satisfying to just dump those grudges. Those people aren't in my life anymore so why hold on to the hate? Just, whooo, let it all go!

I also reached out to an ex. After the initial titillation wore off, I again felt that uneasiness. However, I challenged myself to stay present and to make considered choices. He just reverted to the same old, same old. Could I have done things differently? Yes. But I felt that would have been playing the game. So, I'm through. I'm so grateful for the closure. That was my last stand. It's finally, completely over.

Making room for more means constantly pruning your life. Cut off those dead ends. Clear out the weeds. Position yourself for optimum sunlight. Water yourself as needed. Trust that you already know what you need. Trust that you know what feels like the bullshit you've sworn off. MAKE ROOM FOR MORE!

Reconnaissance and Research

2011-10-09T08:24:00.000-07:00

So, I went to the Take Back the American Dream Rally this past Wednesday in DC.

First impressions: it was far smaller than I thought it would be given Van Jones' presence and the three-day conference of the same name that led up to it. I'd say maybe 125 people were there, not including the cameras and set up crew.

There were quite a few black folk there. However, they were all affiliated with the AFGE union for government employees, or Our DC, which is a local nonprofit that organizes to bring good jobs to the DC area. Everyone else was white. I didn't see anyone who looked to be under 25. Most people looked to be in the 40-60 year range.

I randomly interviewed eight black people, between the ages of 30 and 65. (3 women, 5 men; 2 with Our DC, 1 Peaceaholics, 1 non-affiliated, 4 AFGE members.) Their answers really surprised me.

It's a non-issue. When asked why there weren't more non-union affiliated black people and young people at the rally, half replied that black people weren't interested. Not having a job is not a new condition for black and poor folks. The youth were born into poverty and have adjusted to it. The only people who feel affected by this recession are people who had something better before it--hence, all the middle-class white folks present.

Many people cited apathy. Black folks apparently have a thousand excuses not to come demonstrate. Respondents said people they knew blamed lack of childcare, having to work, and plans with significant others for not coming out. Half the respondents seemed a little frustrated at the excuses given that there was transportation provided for the rally.

However, you can't compete with cash. Respondents said people, especially youth, were out there hustling. Why are they gonna agitate for a legal paying job when they are making more money on the street? They work their own hours, in cultural environments they understand, using the skills and smarts they have at their immediate disposal.

One woman noted that rallying has no immediate benefit. Why find childcare for an event at which you won't be paid for participating? It's not worth the effort for many moms. Another man noted that in the 60s, jobs were plentiful so if one skipped work to demonstrate he was reasonably sure that he could get another job quite easily. That is clearly not the case anymore, so many people are deterred from coming out.

Disconnect from organizing and community values. Things have changed since the 60s. Folks are more focused on themselves as opposed to their communities. People--poor and middle class--only care about their personal situation so, once they have their set up straight, they're cool. Three people mentioned the lack of education about black history in the US. We're not taught about ourselves in American schools and no one is doing political education in our communities about systems of oppression.

For those that do want to organize, they are not sure how to do it. Twitter and facebook are new social media that we have yet to take advantage of. All of the union-affiliated people I talked with said they would not have known about the rally if not for their union.

Taking back the future. When asked about this idea of taking back a dream, many respondents got all gung-ho. They were visibly motivated to be here, obviously, and felt that it was their duty to raise their voices. An older gentleman said he attended for his grandchildren. One woman said she just lost her job the day before. Every person I interviewed said they were attending in place of those who were absent. Many felt it was their 'responsibility' to attend and to also go home and spread the word.

Curiously, when asked about taking 'back' something that was never created for us, the American dream, namely, many people just focused on needing jobs. Nothing was mentioned about the black unemployment rate and its affect on our communities. Nothing was said about living wages, access to education, support for working parents, racism in employment--nothing. Respondents just want work. Hmm.

Takeaways: I see a need for deeper involvement by black and poor folk. I also see a need for a deeper analysis about how we are affected by Wall Street's economic policies. The Occupy movement is an opportunity to build new structures that are inherently anti-racist. I don't want to be here in another 20 or 40 years agitating again on the outskirts of a movement about dreams that were never about me in the first place.

So far, white people--specifically the gang of white helicopter grannies that tried to interrupt every.single.conversation I was having with a black person--gave me the impression that they were only interested in my presence as a way to beef up their numbers. They were speechless when I asked them about the black unemployment or about how 'taking back' the American dream is a real turn off for some POCs.

But they all climbed on the hip hop bandwagon real quick. Talking 'bout how it's a tool of empowerment. Can you believe that hip hop has become a strategy for white people to rope in marginalized folks--even though white folk won't talk about racism in the movement and society?

Yes, there were black speakers and this event had Van Jones' dreamy black face at the helm, but the crowd--indeed, where the movement actually resides--was predominantly white. You can't claim to be the 99% when all the other 'colors' (as one white granny put it) are marginalized.

Mmm Good! Kitchen Sink Soup

2011-10-09T08:06:00.000-07:00

Ok, this soup is the cat's meow, man! Just threw whatever I had into the pot and improvised as I went along.

The Goods
1 cup red lentils
1/3 cup veggie broth
2 cups water
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1/4 medium cauliflower head, chopped
2 large carrots
1 cup frozen spinach
1 Tbsp curry powder
1/2 Tbsp chili powder
couple dashes of cumin
t tsp coconut oil
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp brown sugar
Red Hot Sauce
bleu cheese crumbles

To begin, brown the onions, spices, and garlic in olive oil til the onions are translucent. Then add the water, broth, and lentils. Bring to a boil. Then add the vegetables and turn down the heat to allow it all to simmer. Add the brown sugar and coconut oil.

Stop here and taste the soup. If you're a little skeptical of the bleu cheese and Red Hot, then leave the soup as is. If you're up for adventure, add the last two ingredients to your liking!

Veggie broth can take over a soup, which is why I put such a small amount in here. I just wanted to give my lentils a little extra flavor. The additional cumin, garlic and chili powder are to power up my curry powder. If you like yours just fine, then omit these ingredients. Brown sugar is my new secret ingredient. I've been adding brown sugar to my curry recipes lately because it seems to thicken up the sauce and give the dishes some nuance.

I've been on a bleu cheese and red hot binge lately so, of course, they found their way into my soup. I think it works. I've made this soup twice this week and it was delicious each time!

Homework

2011-10-04T18:32:00.001-07:00

Hmm. I'm warily excited about all this rowdiness at Wall Street and in Boston. I'm planning on participating in the Take Back the American Dream Rally tomorrow. However, I have some concerns.

1) Rallies and marches don't bring about any change. At local events, the participants many times don't make demands and their actions--chanting, getting arrested--have no lasting impact. And larger actions never culminate in anything besides threats to vote for change. And then we don't even do that! I've long felt that we are wasting our time if we aren't gonna demand something and then enact our own solutions if our demands aren't met.

2) It's a mighty white crowd. Where are the foreclosed families? Where are the black unemployed? Where are the folk who were low-income long before the recession? I wonder, if people have really lost pretty much everything, why are they not showing up? Why are the people on TV college kids and the newly unemployed and a few random Wall Streeters on lunch break? I suspect hopelessness. If one was poor before and no one cared, why show up now?

I also suspect that black folk in particular have become discouraged and disconnected from our legacy of organizing. The assassinations, incarcerations and exiles of the 60s and 70s are our most recent memories. Sacrifices were definitely made to fight back but, 40-50 years later, we are arguably in a worse position. Since the 80s, the only thing black people have done collectively is riot. Rioting represents outrage and frustration but lacks focus and sustainability.

3) Lack of a clear demand. I'm curious to see if people will develop a multi-point platform like, dare I say it, the Black Panther Party. Who says we have to one issue? We can have one unifying cause but it can have several legs. Job creation isn't a cure-all for social and economic injustice if we don't also address education, fair and living wages, the cost of healthcare, taxes, institutional racism, etc.

4) What's this talk about 'taking back' the American dream? The American dream has only been a reality for the straight, white, rich American men. For everyone else, it's just an illusion. I'm not interested in taking back something that was never created by me or for me, you know? I want to build my own dream that is centered on my lived experiences. My dream includes equal relationship rights for and within all consenting couples, inter-generational family, POC culture, spiritual beliefs, part-time employment, full-time community educator. We need to build a dream that is big enough for all of us to live dignified lives and gives us all the same opportunities to lead the lives that best represent who we want to be in this world. Our collective dream should be free of violence and poverty. Clearly, the American Dream as we have known it--real for some, pipe dream for the rest--has never encompassed these ideals. So, quit the pandering and be bold: let's build a new dream.

As I participate in the coming days I will be seeking insights regarding these concerns. It's quite a moment in American history (or at least in mine) and I do want to participate if only for the sake of posterity. I don't believe in the voting process but I do want to believe that the concerted effort of many people can change society for the better. And, I'm not helping anybody by sitting on the sidelines heckling. Be a part of the solution or shut up, right?

Butternut Squash Soup

2011-10-02T14:45:00.000-07:00

Fall is here which means it's SOUP SEASON!!! Yay!!!!

Today I tried out a simple butternut squash soup. It didn't knock my socks off but it definitely has potential.

The Goods
1 medium butternut squash
1/2 medium onion
2 carrots
1 red potato
1-15oz can veggie broth
2 cans water
curry powder
2 Tbsp brown sugar
1 Tbsp coconut oil
cinnamon
nutmeg

First, I baked the butternut squash at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes. I sliced it in half, scooped out the seeds, then put the halves face down in about half an inch of water. When it's done, the skin slides right off!

Next, I browned the onion and curry powder in some olive oil. Then I added all of the remaining ingredients. I let it simmer over medium-high heat for about 30 minutes. Then I pureed everything in a (too-small) food processor.

Hmm, so it came out alright. What can I say? It gave me the feeling that it wants to go to the next level.

When I make it again, I'll use two sweet potatoes (the red was leftover), apple juice instead of veggie broth to make the soup sweeter, and I'll ditch the curry powder and use more brown sugar and possibly add raisins. Who knows, I might even add red lentils! ;)

Getting Cold

2011-09-28T17:56:00.000-07:00

i want to tip the scales towards joy.

i see other people making their peace with the world...standing firmly in their strength, drawing lines in the sand about what will or won't be allowed to tip their inner balance...people pull on perspective like crocheters pull on yarn, making sure they have enough room, enough slack, to maneuver forward.

i need to be like that. i need to embroider my force field and slip it on snug like a winter hat. i need to retain heat so that i can walk through the biting wind and dreary rain and still be warm inside. warm enough keep disillusionment at bay. warm enough to sleep through the night. warm enough to heat another heart.

but i'm afraid. of sleeping too soundly to hear any alarms. or worse, being so comfortable that i turn over when i do hear them. i know my limitations and i worry that i'll give in to my weaknesses. stop questioning.

you know, i judge those people that go about their lives anyway. regardless. i wonder how can they do yoga and bake cookies and run triathlons or skim youtube when there is TROY DAVIS, WAR, FAMINE, 9/11, UNEMPLOYMENT. and on and on and on. i judge them. because they make one or two facebook posts, if that, and then it's on to the next.

but secretly i envy them. because their joy is palpable. they've resolved to do what they love, to focus on that which they can affect--their individual lives. i'm tempted to think that in their own way they are contributing to the Greater Good. their smiling faces and excitements buoy me. inspire me. hearten me. that has to count for something.

Right?

god gave us each our own mix of seeds, our own idiosyncratic garden to tend. if he's the master planter, then maybe all i need to focus on is my little patch...make sure my soil is fertile and that i listen intently to my plants as they tell me what they need to grow...then i can feed myself and my friends. share tips with my neighbors. gift my abundances. be an example. manifest what god gave me.

...

September 11, 2011

2011-09-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

doomed hearts aboard aircraft
incredulous first reports
second plane follows sinking confirmation
terror
panicked hearts caught in steel
bodies jumping falling
breathless towers crumble before our eyes
terror
desperate hearts flee in streets
terror

heartsick survivors emerge caked in dust
reflective jackets among monochromatic gray
dust
aching searches for loved ones
dust
replay crash burn fall
powerless
dust

once was enough

Ultimately, those perished people of 9/11 were collateral damage. They were the trampled grass beneath the feet of two rumbling elephants—capitalist America and fundamentalist Islam. The realization takes my breath away, for we will surely be trampled again if no one asks the right questions. And as far as I can tell, no one is.

If for every action there is a reaction then we must ask ourselves, as Americans, what were the terrorists reacting to? What were they experiencing—as followers of Islam, as citizens of distinct countries and cultures—that pushed them to commit such heinous acts of violence against this country? As long as the American government avoids these questions we can all look forward to another terrorist attack.

What is most sad to me is that American attitudes and policies haven't changed. Having experienced such a tragedy, I am saddened that we are still out in the world visiting this same destruction on others. No, the circumstances aren't 'different' because we don't kill 3,000 people in one day. Fighting armed enemies doesn't change things, either. Plain and simple, violence begets violence. We--all sides, everyone--diminish our humanity with every bullet and every bomb.

Giddy!

2011-09-08T17:32:00.001-07:00

Ohmigoodness,I had an epiphany! When your life is at it's craziest and you're feeling more dejected and demoralized and depressed than you ever thought you could be, that is when God is doing the most for you!

Background: A very dear friend of mind is going through it right now. And my heart just aches for him because I know too well how he feels. He's in that dark place where everything he really wants in life just seems to move further and further away. Isn't that ironic? The more you want it, the more your plans deteriorate and the more you feel like a complete failure.

My first thoughts after reading his email was congratulations! Yes, congratulations! All this turmoil means he's on the right track! I mean, look at me. Not too long ago I was right where he was and now look at me. Exactly where I said I wanted to be. All of a sudden I see the purpose behind those times. Before, I had no idea why God gifted me with the experience of Tacoma 2010. I was in charge of my life, doing everything well but I wasn't in DC. When my experience ended, it just seemed like a random gift. I just said thank you but I didn't understand what was going on. I didn't understand that God was working it all out. I had no way of knowing how much I would lean on that experience in the coming year.

So, with all this in mind, I've been trying to reassure my friend that he'll be fine. I'm practically bursting because my smile is so wide. I just *know* that he will be ok. Because he already is. Remember that footprints poem, the one where God tells the dreamer that it was during his hardest times that God carried him? My friend is in good hands--the best hands--he just doesn't know it yet!

So the next time all the lights go out in your life, you can bet it's God and not Santa Claus bringing you gifts in the dark! Amen!

Testimony Tuesday--It All Comes Around

2011-09-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

What a difference a week makes!!! Wow, yall. God really came through me. Once I put on those big girl panties, it was on! For Labor Day weekend I planned to meditate and pray and do my budget. I started tinkering with the numbers and once I realized that what I needed was within reach, I started working on a hustle. I found a way to cancel some debts, update my phone and get a bed!

This weekend I prayed every day, all day. What I like about my relationship with God is that we can chat anywhere, anytime. I don't have to be in a church to say thank you or to admit my doubts. In fact, my weekend began with me just collapsing on my bed and telling him how much I wanted to move forward.

The mood did strike me, though, to go to church. So, I invited a new friend from work. The choir was getting it! We musta sang for a good hour! But I loved it. Singing gets in the nooks and crannies of your soul sometimes in ways that plain old words cannot. Speaking of which, the preacher sorta lost me. I couldn't figure out what his message was! In trying to figure it out, I inadvertently discovered something else: That I like my life. As is.

As I sat there in church, it hit me--I like my part-time life. Once I stopped panicking and got pragmatic, I realized a part-time salary is doable. I can still save for a trip to New York in February. I'll have enough to rebuild a winter wardrobe, piece by piece. I knew that I could have everything I wanted. My proof was Tacoma 2010.

Then, too, I was on a limited budget. Working full time but also paying rent and a car note, two expenses I hadn't planned on having. But I had realized by January that Tacoma was where God wanted me to be. Honestly, I felt doomed. With the way things were going, I wouldn't make it to DC til 2012. I couldn't understand why God had turned out the lights in my life. I was shellshocked by the previous six months. All I could do was focus on where I was and do what was within my power to do. So, I worked on my get-to-do-DC list which included setting good health habits--spiritually, physically, nutritionally. I joined the YMCA and became a gym rat. I got enthusiastic about cooking for myself and experimented with new recipes and ingredients. I also started Water Wednesdays.

Every Wednesday I would detour to the Puget Sound on the way home from work. I'd sit out there facing the water for as long as I needed. It wasn't the only time I'd talk with God but it helped to have a designated space. It felt so good to just be calm. Soon I started doing the 5-mile drive near the city zoo. Sunday driving through forest, occasionally glimpsing the Sound through trees, was meditative for me. I didn't need any special rituals or words to commune with God. It was freeing to just enjoy nature and myself and my rapport without any specific or even verbal dialogue.

During Tacoma 2010 I felt so adept at life. I set my values, narrowed my focus and made time for what was important to me. I remember how confident I felt, how satisfied with how I was running my life. Other people took notice, too, of my health and attitude. They saw that though I was definitely busy I wasn't harried or exhausted. They noted my gratitude despite the fact that my larger plans were idling.

What I realized during church this weekend was that I have moved closer to reclaiming that mindset and lifestyle! In deciding to work part-time, I've given myself more time to do all those things that kept me sane and upbeat! I don't want to give that up! My life is stabilizing and I am slowly building my social network, which is interwoven with my community endeavors. I have plans to join a gym next month. It's all coming back but with the improvements that I longed for back then!!!

Don't you get it?! It all comes around! Thank you God for sticking with me. Everything had a purpose and my life is constantly, however inconceivably, moving forward. I am grateful that I have a job and a job that pays my bills and then some on a part-time salary. I will redirect my focus to that which is important to me--which is everything OUTSIDE of my paid work! If someone asks me what I do for a living, I'll tell'em "personal development." Getting my life right is important work and it's ok to focus on that so I can be a better resource for others, when the time comes.

Thank you, God, for this moment of clarity and certainty and peace. Amen!

Testimony Tuesday--Big Girl Panties

2011-08-30T12:33:00.000-07:00

Thank you, God, for making me uncomfortable! Thank God for reminding me why I wanted to make moves in the first place! Thank your helping me realize that I'd rather make an effort--and risk all sorts of unknowns--than remain where I am right now.

See, this weekend while kickin it with a new friend, I had several "I've-been-over-this" moments:

1) Frenemies: I'm done dealing with drama, especially when it's not even mine! Moving day really coulda done without the police showing up.

2) Blacking out: drinking too much is not cool. Babysitting your sick ass ain't my idea of an ideal Saturday morning. Which brings me to--

3) being dependent on others: I'm too old for sleepovers with more than two people and I'm done having my plans held up because I don't have the means to take myself home.

This is what my life will be like if I don't get a move on with my plans. Hanging out with people who aren't my equals in sophistication or personal development. Being dependent and feeling disgruntled about it. No, thanks, 24. Once was enough.

I want to continue moving forward. And, oh lawd, though I am scared of the unknowns that await me, I will get myself together and be brave despite fear. I don't know what I'll have to experience to reach my goals. But I know I can handle it. And I know it's worth it. I just gotta put on my big girl panties and do it again.

Testimony Tuesday--Falling off the Wagon

2011-08-23T11:41:00.000-07:00

Yeah, so. It's been a minute. About that...

I've been feeling hella anxious! Looking for a job. trying not to think about the job that I really do want and have applied for. Scheming about how to pay off this car. Missing my friends like crazy. Wanting to do things but not having the money. Tired of penny pinching all the time. Realizing that I'm gonna need to go to grad school so I can get a job that pays what I want. Being repulsed by that thought. Feeling torn because, in a moment of calm, I let myself be open to that thought...and then I found a program that actually seems worth it. Only it's back home. I sat some more. And was just honest with myself. I don't want to leave just yet. I want to stay here on the East coast and live it up the way I imagined. Party, be social, save and travel. Then go to grad school.

And that's why I'm anxious. It seems like a good plan. But the last time I made plans everything went straight to hell. Those were a tumultuous two years. I am not feeling ready yet to face my life when my plans go awry again. I'm worried. Scared to have faith. Even though that's silly, right? Cuz God has brought me through so much. And those tumultuous two years proved that God is really on my side and just wants me to be the person that I was made to be. I've faced my inner control freak, faced my buried feelings about my sexual assault, faced the fact that though my parents are human and, therefore, weak, just like me I'm gonna have to keep them at arms length til they can treat me respectfully. I've faced the fact that may mean I don't speak with them again. I know I'm strong, smart, stubborn, passionate and focused. I know I have a lot to give and that I have good intentions and that I genuinely care about others.

But I'm not faithful. Not completely. I know I need to leave it all to God right now, just do what I can do and leave the rest to him. But I want peace of mind so badly. I just want things to work out the way I planned so I can relax. What if--who am I kidding? When--it doesn't go as planned, how far in the depths will I have to go? That's what I'm really worried about. Because the more I make progress on my personal and spiritual development, the deeper I have to descend into my fears and weaknesses to continue that progress. And that shit is tough. Mostly because I'm hardheaded and insistent on doing things my way...

Deep breath. (((hugs)))

I gotta do something to keep this anxiety in check. Cuz right now I'm keeping odd hours, my poetry is all dried up, and I got a serious sweet tooth. Pray for me. I'm gonna go pray for myself.

Testimony Tuesday--Adjustment Bureau

2011-08-14T16:44:00.000-07:00

Thank you God! This weekend was a whirlwind of fun and substance. I feel like world is answering my yes. Last week I talked with a good friend who helped me realize that I have to strategize in life. I don't like to because the concept, at least when pertaining to people, seems manipulative. Calculating. I don't trust people like that so, of course, I don't want to act like that. She shared a different perspective, for which I'm deeply grateful.

I considered that strategizing doesn't have to be a sinister endeavor. I began to entertain thoughts about what I would do differently to make friends, begin organizing again, move my career forward. Reserving judgment, I just observed what I have been learning since I moved here. here's what i came up with:

black people here don't seem to need to rally around being black like we did back home. I'm going to have to find other points of connection.
it's more important to me that my friends actually get me, therefore, Ima hafta let go of arbitrary qualities like age and race if I wanna get grounded here.
realizing that i come off like i know everything. and that may make people feel like i don't need them. hmm. well, i do feel that i do know what i know, lol. maybe it wouldn't hurt, though, to be a little more vulnerable and more openly seek support in areas that are problematic for me.
the way i engage in 'activism' is by gathering women and facilitating the sharing information. framing my work in that way energizes me more to participate than thinking about all the things i hate about organizing.

i've allowed these things to settle in my heart. and i was open to them. and good things have been coming ever since. I met fantastic, intelligent women at the DC Slutwalk this weekend and am arranging a debrief. I've asked someone whom I admire professionally to give me some pointers. And then I topped it all off by barhopping with a fun and sexy clique. Totally not the people I would imagine myself hanging with but I went with it and I actually had a grand time!

this past week was just the encouragement i need to keep pushing my growing edge. The world doesn't revolve around my attitudes and I can't just double down whenever I disagree with the way something is done. My new strategy: trial and error, unpack what makes me uncomfortable, and let love lead!!!!

Designer

2011-08-11T23:34:00.001-07:00

I rifle through my lexicon
trying on adjectives like blouses
and sentences like shoes
then i prance around the paragraph
feeling for the best fit

see, it's fashion week
and the look is professional haute couture
expertise, tailored
personality, demure
my resume walks the runway
with my heart sewn into the sleeve
does my skill suit hit your curves?
does my font choice strike a nerve?
you all don't have to like me
but i do need just one to want me
enough
to take me home
and wear me out

Heat

2011-08-10T18:12:00.000-07:00

leaves swoon in the afternoon
while my hormones spike like mosquito bites

what wouldn't i do
for a kiss or caress?
skin burns incessantly so
i settle for less:
fantasies fingered roughly
eyes squeezed tight against the light
a bit of amateur theatrics

i writhe until i'm paralyzed

the warmth subsides
my breath returns
relieved
until i burn again

London bridge is falling down

2011-08-10T13:08:00.000-07:00

I really feel for people these days. Systematically denied access to education and employment that will improve their situations…Surrounded by things in their own neighborhood that they can’t afford… Mocked by iPhone commercials, royal weddings, and TV shows and magazines that blithely ignore their financial circumstances…Have their morality questioned by reporters who say nothing when politicians bailout Wall Street and cut social services…hmmm, are the causes of the riots really a mystery??!! The indignity and injustice of murder by police are just matchsticks.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS when greed runs the world.

DUH!!!

I just wonder, what’s next? Maybe the rioters and looters didn’t start out politically motivated but now that they have the world’s attention, what do they want to say? More importantly, what do they plan to do? How are they gonna address the systemic inequalities that still remain after the fires are put out?

Um, what do I plan to do? Here, in my country, in my neighborhood? My ideas involve circumventing political and social entities that harm my communities. Like community councils and gardens, DIY endeavors, bartering, neighborhood savings, etc. It makes no sense to me to call the police when they murder my unarmed neighbors. It makes no sense to appeal to politicians who renig on their promises and build careers out of sweeping poor folks from one corner to the next. But where do I find those likeminded people? Who is my community when I don’t know my neighbors and those I identify with are strewn across the nation and world?

Hold it, Whiny Wendy. There are opportunities for support. Remember the co-op down the street? Remember your friend who runs two community gardens? Maybe the real issue is that I’m just too lazy to engage. It’s easier to watch HGTV and make my personal plans for success. Cuz all I really want is to eat well, take Zumba classes, explore the city and have enough to simultaneously spend and save. I’ll always do community work regardless of my paid job.

Do I need to do more? Should I be trying to connect my struggles and privileges to those around me? Is the fact that I’m even asking proof that I’m disaffected and unaccountable? Ok, this line of questioning is definitely uncomfortable. But it’s necessary, otherwise I’ll be just another hypocrite and armchair philosopher. I need to figure out how to show up for justice while also pursuing that which enlivens and sustains me.

Any insights are welcome.

Testimony Tuesday

2011-08-02T16:42:00.000-07:00

weeeeee!! my heart is filled with a child's zeal. the bus careens down curvy roads. the sun races alongside. we sprint through neighborhoods where houses grin like pleasant parents. sunlight tags my face and my music eggs me on. heart laughing, i'm bopping and lip-synching. who cares what the other passengers think! I'm--

ON THE WRONG BUS!

It's unimportant how long it took me to get to Trader Joe's. It's Testimony Tuesday and I thank God for the good sense to adjust my perspective. It really saved the day. While I waited for another bus, I told myself to relax. After all, I was out of the house. I was looking cute. I was avoiding the laundry. So I turned up my iPod and had a good time just being on my way.

Thank you God for this larger moment in which I am practicing letting go. I am challenging myself to say 'yes, it can be so' and to trust that it will. I say, yes, I can live abroad. Yes, I can eat well and dance all night and live in a lively neighborhood with the little trinket stores I love. Yes, I can do all that and still challenge internalized oppression in black folk. I challenge myself to NOT figure out how all this is gonna work out.

Thank you God that I don't have to figure it all out. Thank you for taking on that work! I remember how you got me a plane ticket to DC although I didn't have any savings. How you found me a job that has been my saving grace on several occasions. I'm not where I want to end up but I have faith that I will arrive eventually.

Thank you God for the ride!

Soldier of Love

2011-07-31T18:55:00.000-07:00

her garments glitter
alluding to the light she is determined to find

I am seduced by her beauty, easily,
but it is her resolve that is most alluring
there is a steeliness in her movements
a braggadocio I haven't seen
her ferocity is as naked as her face,
as controlled as her voice
she holds her gaze while mine falters
can I be that faithful too?

she sings and I taste the dust of tested devotion
her vulnerability burns
yet the drums persist
she persists

untitled

2011-07-30T08:15:00.001-07:00

Blue-white light of morning
breezes tickling my thighs
my favorite pen, my favorite perch,
and coconut-scented sighs.

trees like lanky giants
bricks like grandpa's knee
day, like paper, awaits
my story reverently.

The Dance

2011-07-29T10:19:00.000-07:00

I've always had the movement
I just lacked the music
but when I landed there I danced
like I was meant to.

My sensibilities found their groove
and I flourished in the acknowledgment.

Mexico, you make room for magic
and not just la brujeria
but the alchemy of spirit.

The way I experience life is honored and respected there. I'm not lazy for laughing or languishing. Breathing isn't a waste of time.

I lived wholeheartedly and vividly. When I read those old journals I remember each moment because I was present when I wrote it and that sense of presence is what lives. Don't mistake me, I'm not nostalgic for old times! I don't want to relive tortured, unrequited love and racism and the ache of my family too far away to console. I've accepted long ago that our friendships deserve to grow and change, that the special origins of our connections belong to that place and that time. I'm grateful and I have moved on.

What my heart still catches on
what it still yearns for
is the dance.

Mexico illuminated my spirit like dawn does stained glass
and I danced like sunlight filtering through a tree canopy.

sensual
ethereal
buoyant
intimate
alive

My soul was a bird who had found its perching place, and
so thrilled and content, it sang, sang, sang.

What I want to know is: how can I flourish today? Must I return to the country that first stole my heart or does another dance partner await me?

And where does my life work fit in? How, where, can I serve and live? What arrangement has the most integrity?

Sshh.
Breathe.
Trust.
An answer is coming.

Trankikis

2011-07-28T09:23:00.000-07:00

This moon came, bringing all the mystery and memories with it. Words I haven't used in years surfaced. I set Mexican pearls in Spanglish settings and make joyeria of an imperfect design.

Is it a coincidence that my forever love called me? Or did I call him, yearning as I was for the return of poetry?

I feel like I lost my virginity. I'm seeing everything for the first time. This bus ride is the same but the sights seem new, crisp. My eyes have recovered their lens of wonder.

Declarations melt in my mind. Who am I to say what is or isn't? What will be or won't be? Life has shown me that there are no coincidences, just lessons you need to learn and truths you need to see. Everything is an opportunity to walk with God, if you take his invitation.

Testimony Tuesday

2011-07-26T09:06:00.000-07:00

Once again I’m mining myself.

But this dig is unlike previous excavations. This time the treasure is real and it’s calling me. It’s a peculiar experience. It—this passion, this revelation, this future—is so calm and sure. Every day I write. I just write what intrigues me, what makes sense to me, what I want to see. That’s it. I don’t feel frantic or desperate, stuck or pressured. This isn’t the icy command of a control freak or a busybody indulging her anxiety. I feel steady and faithful. Trusting.

My vision board seems to have changed over night. The pictures seem to have new life, new meaning. Some of them I feel I’m seeing for the first time. When I made it three years ago, I picked images that depicted my values and must-bes. Some pictures moved me or made me say hmmm. I wasn’t sure what I thought they meant but something about them piqued my interest. Over time, I took some pictures for granted as I focused on those I wanted to manifest and master. Now, it is those overlooked images that are glowing. They are the first things I see and they seem so new, so different! It’s sort of creepy, lol, like Whoa, have you been there the whole time?!

Whatever the case may be, I just thank God that I’ve seen the light. I finally following his directions and things are beginning to come to me. That’s unheard of in my world. I’m so accustomed to wrangling up whatever it is I want that it became unfathomable to think things would work themselves out on their own.

Thank you God for exposing me as a control freak and busy body! Struggling through my trials and tribulations has brought me closer to you. You’ve taught me so much about respecting other people’s decisions. You’ve shown me that forgiving others includes having compassion. You’ve been good to me despite my hardheadedness and weakness. You’ve grown my faith and given me the strength to face ugly truths and deal with disappointment. I am no longer bitter because you’ve given me so much.

Now, my life feels so much lighter. I no longer want to rush through everything because I know that you come through. I am content to just wait it out. To let you lead. Thank you for this peace of mind. Thank you for this next twist in the journey. Amen!

Pineapples & Meatballs!

2011-07-22T10:58:00.000-07:00

I sure do love the part-time life, folks! I found another fun recipe for my workday lunch!

The Goods
The sauce
1 ½ cup veggie broth
2 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp hot mustard sauce (in place of 1/3 cup vinegar)
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 tbsp cornstarch

½ package of veggie meat, ground beef style
¾ of 1 bell pepper
¾ cup of sliced pineapple with juice (almost ½ of 15 oz can)

Make small (1 inch-ish) balls from the veggie meat. I added a bit of curry powder and chili pepper to give them more flavor. Brown them in olive oil, about 7 minutes. Remove from heat. You’ll finish cooking them completely later on.

Combine sauce ingredients in a separate bowl. Put aside.

Lightly sauté the green pepper and pineapple. Then add the sauce and the meatballs. Cook altogether over medium heat for another 7-10 minutes, if that. Taste, add a dash of salt or whatever strikes your fancy.

I served my meatballs over brown rice and topped with shredded coconut. Yum! As you can see, I added some stuff to it because I hate the taste of it plain. I always make it with 1/2 veggie broth and 1/2 water, and this time I added carrots and raisins to go with the overall sweet flavor of the meatballs and sauce.

If you would like to use ground beef, try this recipe.

Testimony Tuesday

2011-07-19T17:51:00.001-07:00

Testimony Tuesday!
Every Tuesday I will share testimony of how God has worked and is working in my life. Share your testimony in the comments!

Whew folks, my life has been crazy full lately. My life seems to have a motif and I’m recognizing why I came here to DC. This is an opportunity to reflect on the work I did and to figure out how to move forward. God’s been busy dropping crazy hints. Here is a list of the ways God’s been talking to me.

Conversations with key people. My brother surprised and inspired me. A good friend got me thinking about the bigger picture. An elder has turned into a sounding board. All of them have nudged me recently, affirmed hunches, or got me excited. There’s nothing like connecting with the people who truly get you.

Meandering conversations over food. I love going out to eat. I love eating good food with good friends. I love staying at a restaurant until you’re ready to leave, usually long after the food has been cleared away and the two of you are just nursing your favorite drinks and sharing fascinating provocative thoughts.

Words. The word ‘respect’ broken down is re (to do again) + spect (to see) = to see again. To respect someone is to see look again, to see them for who they really are. Hmm. My friend Gabe hipped me to another word: imagination. In Amharic, a language of Ethiopians, it means ‘prophetic vision’. That’s coming from the people who brought Christianity and who taught the Egyptians how to build pyramids. Whoa.

Moon in Capricorn. This energy brings decisiveness to your manner. You know what needs to be resolved and you just do it. No waffling or second-guessing. I’m totally feeling this.

Beats, Rhymes and Life, the documentary about a Tribe Called Quest. I thought I was going to get an intimate and entertaining glimpse of an iconic group but really I came away with an insider’s look at early hip hop. I walked away feeling that the only way to leave an impression, to endure through time and culture, is to be FOR something as opposed to against something and to be true to yourself. Geek out over what you love and commit to it, respect it. Others will relate to your sincerity and honesty.

A Tour of the White House
High points: the older Black couple who was visiting from Birmingham, AL. They were the special guests of their son, who is currently working in the White House, under the first Black president. It was definitely special to take the tour with them and my new friend, a 16year old visiting from Ethiopia. Our entourage helped to further emphasize the historic magnitude of Obama’s presidency. I walked away feeling more humbled and proud than ever of him and all the people who struggled so this day would come. I also walked away feeling more conviction for working on the community level making long-term cultural changes as opposed to flimsy by-the-season political ones.

Red Lentil & Artichoke Stew

2011-07-18T13:38:00.000-07:00

Halfway through lunch I realized that I had forgotten to take a picture...

So I pulled out my camera. I thought I could do it. How hard could it be to snap a photo between bites?

Harder than I thought. This soup was too good, I tell ya!

You will have the same reaction, too. This red lentil artichoke stew is definitely where it's at! The biggest surprise? I used NO salt or curry powder, my two favorite condiments! I know, I was a bit skeptical, lol!

I found this soup while searching for ingredients and flavors besides my old standbyes. I wasn’t sure how to pull off Italian with no cheese, and whole grain pasta is wholly unappealing…So, clickety click click, I entered the ingredients I had on hand (red lentils, duh) and those I wanted to play with (artichokes and olives). Ta-da! Red lentil artichoke stew!

Lots of people refer to the Vegan Table for this recipe but I based mine off of this one here.

The Goods
1 cup diced yellow onion
2-3 teaspoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 cup dry red lentils
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 16-ounce can chopped tomatoes
1-15-ounce jar artichoke hearts, drained)
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
black olives, sliced

Saute onions til golden. Add the garlic, cumin, and coriander and cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the lentils, bay leaf, lemon juice, tomatoes and tomato liquid, artichoke hearts (and some juice but not all of it), and crushed red pepper and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for about 20 minutes or until the lentils are tender. Add water (or veggie broth) if stew becomes too thick. Remove the bay leaf. Serve alone or over rice or pasta. (I served mine over brown rice that I embellished with bell peppers and onion.)

Savory and simple! Two spoons up!

Testimony Tuesday!

2011-07-12T06:13:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday I will share testimony of how God has worked and is working in my life. Share your testimony in the comments!

Thank God for speaking to me! I feel it! Thank you that I can’t sleep at night for big tantalizing questions! Ruminating on black people and legacies and passing on of traditions. Wrestling with the HOWS and WHATS. Thank you for reawakening my creativity and excitement and love!

Thank you for all these exhibits and events and conversations that only deepen my excavation. Thank you for coming through, God! THIS is what my part-time life is for—so I could reconnect to my passion! Thank you that I finally get it, that I've finally slowed down enough to let things begin coming to me! Whew!

#longtimecoming #foreal

Thank you God for all the ways you work in my life, seen and unseen!
blackroot

P.S. Marvin & Tammi's What You Gave Me is one of my all-time favorite songs. It just makes me feel happy. You figure out how it matches today's post, lol!

Rumination...

2011-07-09T17:43:00.000-07:00

Cheers to new South Sudan! This occasion also makes me think of Haiti, South Africa, the Civil Rights Movement...so many struggles throughout history and the Diaspora for peace and freedom and sovereignty and respect.

Thinking of Haiti…hoping the people who remain among the rubble will remember their history. Without them, there would be no Nat Turner, no Frederick Douglass, no Civil Rights Movement, no Black Power Movement, no end of apartheid in South Africa, no African Union, no South Sudan.

That's what I think of when I think of Haiti. I see their suffering as the aftermath of triumph over a world power. No, I didn't lose anyone in the earthquake...Then what the hell am I talking about? I am speaking to a spirit of a people that once rose up and won. I am speaking to a spirit who I believe is stronger than dirt cookies, rape, poverty, devastation, loss. I believe that your love is greater than your despair. For those who lost loved ones in the earthquake.

Just experienced “For All the World to See.” It moved me to tears. The picture of the sanitation workers assembled with signs proclaiming, I AM a MAN. Wow. James Baldwin arguing that there will be a Black president. The whole exhibit depicted how black Americans used media--specifically pictures, TV, and art--to advance the Civil Rights Movement. If you're in town, you need to stop by and see it.

My museum visit followed a lovely, meandering conversation with fam over breakfast at Busboys. We discussed everything from sitting with ugly feelings to loving yourself and others. We discussed black people, our strengths, legacies and liberation. We talked about being seen, as in having your self, in all its complexity and nuance, be acknowledged and the effects of that recognition.We discussed the concept of home. He spit lyrics. I peed a thousand times. We swapped memories of a hometown entity that anchored not only a streetcorner but a community. We spoke of its impact, how it exemplified love and integrity, vision and values. We have so many lessons to learn from it, and from places like it.

When I left the restaurant, my body was trembling. I felt on the cusp of discovery. So many thoughts! HOW do we--black folk--reach each other? WHAT do we discard and what do we keep? HOW do we build upon legacies? These are the questions that will lead humanity to healing, liberation, love.

*sigh* I’m still trembling. But on the advice of my good friend, I’m also writing and envisioning.

To a greater tomorrow,
blackroot

Give Those Brushes a Swirl!

2011-07-06T15:57:00.000-07:00

When Afrobella recently asked her readers how they clean their make up brushes, I realized that for me, it wasn’t a matter of how, but how often! Umm, let’s just say that make up cleaner was one of those things I Lost In The Move.

Well, no time like the present, huh?

Now that I’m (mostly) all natural, I looked up homemade make up cleaner. Below is a youtube link by Kandee Johnson for an extremely easy method. All you need is olive oil and liquid dish soap. (I dabbed my brushes in tea tree oil before washing them with an all natural dishwashing liquid. Tea tree oil’s anti-bacterial properties make it a fantastic disinfectant!)

Easy, huh? My brushes came out cleaner than I expected! I like this method because it’s gentle and made with products I already have in my home.

Testimony Tuesday!

2011-07-05T11:43:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday I will share testimony of how God has worked and is working in my life. Share your testimony in the comments!

Today’s testimony comes by way of Rumi. Rumi was a 13th century Persian poet known for his enthusiastic and colorful delight in God. Whenever I read his poetry, I’m usually in search of solace and perspective. It has a peculiar power: every time I crack open his collection, I find a poem that gives me exactly what I need. This time was no different. The poem that soothed my soul this day was The Guest House.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of its furniture,
Still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
For some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing,
And invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.

This poem helped me find gratitude for a recently ended relationship. See, I had been berating myself up for staying with this dude who, for all intents and purposes, was a selfish, lying mooch. Whhhhhyyyy didn’t I stay broken up with him the first two times? My weakness disappointed and shamed me.

I tried to console myself with the thought that I had severed the relationship for a final time. With this final distraction gone, I could now enjoy what God wanted for me. But something still nagged at me. So I sat with my ugly feelings and doubts. And then I had a revelation: I didn’t leave him because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Whoa. Ungrateful for a mooch?

No. Ungrateful for the opportunity to love. The truth was my ex was not in shape to participate in the relationship I wanted. But I thought that if I really loved him—and wanted a partnership—then I should have some patience with him. Stick it out. You know, because love’s not easy and love takes work.

No. No. No. No. No. He was not the one and he wasn’t going to be the one anytime soon. I knew that but I didn’t want to accept that he knew it, too. He was a parasite. He was just using me. I didn’t want to accept that someone I cared about and supported in so many ways could be so unfeeling in return.

This ordeal made me realize that there is a difference between the people who don’t know they are hurting you and the people who just don’t care. When I run into the latter, I owe it to myself to leave immediately. That is the most loving thing I can do for myself and for that person.

The Guest House helped me forgive myself and be grateful for the lessons this relationship has taught me. Rumi reminded me that God is always working for me and working with me. Sometimes what seems like a setback is really a step up. Thank God for that!

Independence Day revisited

2011-07-03T12:54:00.000-07:00

Given my trials in the past year, it would be much easier to take the time off work and shop shoe sales than contemplate activism. But I do have a heart for justice and it is not content to let me off the hook so easily. Hence, today’s reflection.

I admit I have been that activist snob who turned up my nose at the Fourth. Referencing Frederick Douglas, I scoffed that this holiday didn’t mean anything to me or my people. I protested Independence Day by celebrating Juneteenth instead, a marker whose lack of specific date speaks volumes about the country’s true feelings on freedom and who deserves it. (Have you ever asked yourself why the end of the Civil War isn’t celebrated?)

I’ve visited the national monuments and, between the crowds and hypocrisy, there’s not much reason to turn out on the Fourth. Or ever. But just living in such close proximity has prompted me to think further about the significance of this holiday.

235 years later, I’m asking: how does the Declaration of Independence apply to today? Do we still believe that all men are created equal? Who is “we”? And if all people are equal, then what does that imply for the systems of oppression which exploit immigrant labor, incarcerate black and brown people at disparate rates, and doesn’t recognize gay relationships?

The Declaration of Independence asserts that a people have the right to a government responsive to its needs. Is America’s government today responsive to the needs of its 310 million people? Politicians front about the middle class but the poor have been long suffering and business interests increasingly get their way. People of color face racial disparities in every sector—health, employment, incarceration, education—and women are fighting to keep the government out of our wombs.

At what point do we say enough? At what point do we unite? Will we remain a nation divided or will we decide that some things are worth uniting over? And what action will we take then?

Surely these are not the questions you want to hang around the barbecue contemplating. But they are worth asking. My dreamy heart leads me to ask, Are there other things from which we want freedom? Independence from oil is bandied about, but what about independence from poverty? What about independence from violence? From money?

Take a moment. Envision it. How does your America behave?

Like we said at the US Social Forum in 2007, another US is necessary and another world is possible. Ours is a living legacy and the gift is that we can change it to fit our current needs. Indeed, many changes have come through the vigilance and action of American people (hello, 13 Amendments). How one works for those changes is a personal question. The question I’m asking myself is Do I want to be part of the problem or part of the solution? What more can I do besides snub a holiday?

Coconut Carrot Splash

2011-07-01T06:34:00.000-07:00

Without further ado, my favorite summer soup--Coconut Carrot Splash! This soup is frigging delicious--I couldn't wait for lunch this week!

Coconut Carrot Splash is my own creation, the result of forgetting original ingredients and incorporating fringe elements--beets and kale. Personally, I just love beets and carrots together and kale's pungent flavor always reminds me of curries. And I'm trying to get my vitamins!

The Goods
1 tbsp Olive Oil
2 tsps curry powder
1 tbsp brown sugar
1/2 medium onion, chopped
4 large carrots, peeled and sliced thinly
1 medium bay leaf
2 cups veggie broth
1/2 cup coconut milk
1 cup kale
1/4 of 15 oz can of sliced beets
juice from 1/2 medium lemon
salt

Brown the curry powder in the olive oil.

Then add: onions, broth, carrots, beets, bay leaf and brown sugar. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer about 15 minutes. Add kale or other leafy green and simmer until the greens are wilted, no more than 5 minutes.

In batches, puree the soup in a blender. When it's all blended, add the coconut milk. Add the lemon juice and salt. Adjust seasoning to taste.

Serve hot or cold, by itself or over rice. Enjoy!

This recipe is inspired by the Curried Carrot Soup at Chow. Try this one if you don't like beets and kale.

Testimony Tuesday!

2011-06-28T11:05:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday I will share testimony of how God has worked and is working in my life. Share your testimony in the comments!

Thank God for listening to my heart and not my ego!
Thank God for using my every decision to his benefit!

2009 Buzzword: Purpose. Every project I planned, every word I uttered, had purpose all over it. I just wanted to be doing what I was meant to do already.

2010 Major setbacks. All of my plans failed utterly and completely. But all of God's plans came through. I moved to DC in the summer and began to understand faith for the first time.

Let me tell ya: God is one smooth operator. God enticed me with a dream job that turned out to be rotten to the core. It totally went against my principles of accountability and empowerment. My fiery collisions with an arrogant and racist boss led to a life-changing epiphany: Meaningless work is not for me! I decided to work only enough to pay my bills. I decided to prioritize my needs--being fit, eating right, taking care of my home and giving more time to my projects.

So,I quit my job. Right away, my life got tumultuous. But I understood that God was rearranging things on my behalf. I rolled with the punches...until my control freak nature got the best of me.

2011 Relapse and rebound. God had set me up with a new part-time job and had moved me out of a dysfunctional living situation. God found me a new place where I could finally be safe and relax. All I had to do was stay put and prepare myself to receive the goods he had in store for me. But what did I do instead?

Move in with my boyfriend. I wanted to settle down. I wanted a relationship. What I got was raggedy because I ended up working two jobs to support me and my unemployed boyfriend. Ooh, he was a parasite! Fitting, because we lived in a bug-infested rowhouse right above Radio Raheim who played his reggaeton everyday from 8:30am to 10pm.

Finally, I realized that God's plans were looking better than my own. God didn't rub it in, just gave me a do-over. Six months later, I am single, living by myself, and back to a part-time schedule. I can give testimony to God's patience and mastery. All I have to do now is sit back and wait on the Lord. Hallelujah.

Red Lentil Burgers

2011-06-26T12:49:00.000-07:00

What’s a busybody’s dream food? RED LENTILS!

Let me tell you, these little things are cheap, versatile, and fast! I make a variety of dishes, from curries to chowders to variations of the traditional lentil soup. Thanks to Poor Girl Eats Well, I’ve discovered red lentil hummus, too! Her recipe is simple and you can easily personalize it. Red lentil hummus has become my go-to snack: I eat it as veggie dip, spread it on crackers, and use it in place of mayo on sandwiches.

But I digress. I got up this morning to tell you about red lentil burgers. Yes, yes, y’all! These are a tasty alternative to the ubiquitous veggie patty and bland black bean burgers.

Because I buy vegan, my recipe omits eggs. Therefore, I make my patties a little smaller so they will be less crumbly. This recipe yields 8-12 patties. The recipe that inspired my own simpler version is here.

The Goods
¾ cup red lentils
2 ½ cups water
2 cups mushrooms
1 large carrot, diced
2 celery hearts, diced
1 cup onion, diced
3 cloves (ish) garlic
2 cups breadcrumbs

Seasonings (to taste)
Oregano
Salt n pepper
Cayenne pepper
Lemon juice

Bring lentils to a boil. (For more flavor, I prepare my lentils with veggie broth and a bay leaf.) Reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Drain very well and set aside. You may want to use a wire colander because you want the lentils as dry as possible.

Saute the onion, garlic, and cayenne pepper in olive oil. When the onion is translucent, add the other vegetables and all seasonings except the lemon juice. Saute it all til it smells good and the mushrooms are soft but not slimey. Drain excess liquid.

Combine your lentils and veggie mix. Add the lemon juice. Add the breadcrumbs. Adjust seasoning to taste. Then chill the mash in the fridge for 30 minutes. Afterwards, make small patties and brown them on the stove, about 5 minutes each side.

Top with your favorite fixins. I suggest avocado, red bell pepper and hot mustard. Enjoy!

P.S. For all you playful flirts, this recipe is great to make with your date or sweetie!

My Loc Journey

2011-06-24T06:24:00.000-07:00

What a jolt it was to see my own face staring back at me from my laptop!

Karen over at Naturally Beautiful Hair posted my essay, Bold Cuts, about my loc journey! I'm so grateful that she's allowed me to share my relationship with my hair with even more people. Thank you, Karen!

Naturally Beautiful Hair is a lovely site dedicated to black women and our natural hairstyles. The interviews and testimonies are my favorites, while the photos always make me proud to be black and natural! Go check out Naturally Beautiful Hair and get inspired!

Shortly after I submitted my essay, I chopped my locs! This is me now!

Stretching Out!

2011-06-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

It feels good to settle in, folks! I am smiling ear to ear because I just put together my Linea leaning bookcase from The Container Store.

I’ve been haunting that place for months! Each visit I’d meander through the aisles—bathroom, bedroom, kitchen—taking my time arriving to the office section. And each visit, I’d appraise the desk set from afar before coming in closer to trace my fingers along its edges. I had it bad, folks!

The one day it wasn’t on the showroom floor I nearly had a heart attack! Thank goodness they were only rearranging things!

Ta-da! What do you think? The moment I leaned it against the wall, I felt rooted. Furniture feels nice after two years of living out of suitcases. I’m even more smug because I got a little HGTV on it. In a zap of creativity, I scrapped my original sketches and decided to use my bookcase as a vanity instead of an office space.

It may look like a collection of jewelry and nail polish but it’s really my spirit stretching out. All the things that usually get pushed to the side--my self-care and self-expression--finally get to take up space!

Ode to Coconut Oil

2011-06-21T14:53:00.000-07:00

Friends, I found the mother lode of all beauty products! For all you looking for answers to dry hair and skin, COCONUT OIL is the best thing out there. Online reviewers rave about it, POC people in tropical regions have been using it for years and it apparently it is more multi-functional than a Swiss army knife. I had to give it a try.

I stumbled upon coconut oil while looking for alternatives to lotion. Lotion left me high and dry while other oils and butters made my skin break out. They didn’t keep my skin moist for too long, either. With a simmering DC summer in the forecast I had to find something fast. I ran across coconut oil and couldn’t stop reading.

THE LOW DOWN
--Your skin absorbs it better and retains it longer than many other oils.
--It’s anti-septic, killing bacteria, viruses and fungi. When ingested regularly, it boosts your immune system.
--Use it for baking, spreads on toast, or add a dollop to oatmeal, smoothies and drinks for added flavor. It has a low smoke point, though, so be careful when frying and sautéing.
--It’s affordable and accessible. Everyone from Giant (Safeway alternative) to Whole Foods carries it. It runs between $10-$16.
--it lasts forever, so you can take your time using it up, not that you’ll need it!

Use #1: Body Moisturizer
Right after the shower, I just rub it all over. It sinks in beautifully and gives my skin a delicious polish that doesn’t leave me greasy. The best part? It actually moisturizes!!! After applying coco oil in the morning, I don’t need to retouch all day. Not even the coldest air conditioned buses could bust a crack on my skin. Even my trouble spots—my shins, which only petroleum jelly could conquer—held up fantastically. Another bonus: In the three months that I’ve been using it, it has not once made my skin break out. My shoulder blades, arms and thighs are blemish free.

Surprise Bonus #1
My feet don’t stink. It’s hot and muggy over here on the East coast and that could spell stinky problems for an active, carless person such as myself. But my feet are odor free!

Use #2: Loc Butter & Hot Oil Treatment
I use coco oil when I palmroll my locs. It makes my hair shine and doesn’t build up. For a hot oil treatment, I combine it with an equal part of olive oil and a couple drops of lavender essential oil. Oh.my.goodness. Heavenly! My hair comes out incredibly soft and smells sooo good.

Surprise Bonus #2
My scalp doesn’t itch as much anymore. I recommended it to my boyfriend for his itchy skin and scalp and wa-la, his curls are soft and flake-free!

Use #3: DIY Deodorant
Now, hold on folks! You know I wouldn’t include it here if I hadn’t tested it out. I’ve been searching for a new deodorant for a while. [TMI ALERT] See, I’ve been skeeved out ever since I discovered what I thought was a pimple in my armpit a couple years ago. Against the advice of every beauty advisor out there, I popped it. And ICK! ICK! ICK! a humongous plug of deodorant came out! It became super clear that deodorant isn’t absorbed into the body but instead just accumulates under your skin. I decided that all those chemicals just cached in my armpit cannot be healthy for me. So I switched to one of those granola deodorants. And it stank. O_o So, I tried another one. And I was sweaty and I stank. Reluctantly I went back to my old standby.

Fast forward to 2011. I am experiencing yet more issues with my deodorant, which I won’t detail here. Emboldened by the good results of coconut oil so far, I decided to try another tempting recipe I’ve seen online: homemade deodorant.

The results? Stink free and, I swear, I sweat less!

Surprise Bonus #3
The smoothest, gunk-free armpits ever! I added a tablespoon of Jane Carter’s Nourish & Shine butter to my deodorant recipe because I like the smell of it.

So, friends. I’m enamored with coconut oil. Coconut oil is easily the best product I’ve ever tried. It feels so good to know that what I’m putting into my skin and body is chemical free, edible and healing. One container does so much, which makes it a very practical and moneysaving product. I hope you give it a chance, too.

For more recipes and ideas for coconut oil, see Crunchy Betty's article.

For more on the health benefits of coconut oil, start here.

**Be sure to buy unrefined coconut oil that has been cold pressed. Mechanically/expeller pressed products use heat which lessens the healthy properties of the oil. Also, hydrogenated and bleached versions are out, too.

**Coconut oil also been touted as a weight loss supplement and energy boost. However, I haven’t tried it consistently enough to give solid feedback on these points.

**if you try Crunchy Betty’s deodorant recipe, please be warned about baking soda. Many people online said it irritated them so you might want to try a reduced amount. I use 3 tablespoons instead of ¼ cup. To avoid a nasty burn, shave at night so you won’t have to apply the deodorant til morning. You don’t want to put baking soda on sensitive skin.

When I discover more miracle products and solutions, I’ll pass them on. Feel free to post questions and feedback in the comments!

Vegetarianism, Pt. 2: Testify

2009-11-10T23:16:00.000-08:00

For me, vegetarianism is a way that I have chosen to show my conviction to myself. It was a decision in the making for almost four years. What precipitated this moment was my big Time Out. By the hand of God, I had scored my first solo apartment, gotten fired, and broken up with an abusive boyfriend within a couple weeks. I sat in my unfurnished one-bedroom with no one but myself to look at. So, I wrote a lot and took a lot of bus rides trying to get foodstamps and employment.

I noticed that I was expressing a lot of animosity towards old men and a lot of frustration about the way men in general treated women. My past relationships were power struggles and filled with resentment. I had betrayed myself many times. Those thoughts were just the tip of the iceberg. With the aid of Iyanla Vanzant, I realized that despite my (relatively) posh digs, I was in fact living in the basement. Finally, I articulated that I wanted less pain in my life and to treat myself better.

Over the next two-three years, I flirted with being less of a jerk to myself. Since I didn’t know how not to be a jerk to myself and I hadn’t truly accepted that I deserved jerklessness from myself or anyone else, I dated a lot of jerks and had a lot of jerk friends. It was with one such jerk, a young Ghanian Taurus, that I finally committed to a better life for myself. We had just gotten back together for like, the 19th time (seriously). Only this time, the makeup sex had left me cold. I knew exactly what was gonna happen next: He’d warm up to me, then he’d get distant, I’d flash, we’d fight, and then we’d break up. I knew I’d be bummy at work and even the prospect of a juicy bitchfest at happy hour couldn’t cheer me up.

It was at this moment that I had a candid conversation with God. I admitted that I couldn’t go through with this again. Everything inside me rejected it. I wanted something else. I wanted something better than the history I’d had with boys. I was very scared during this time because I didn’t know what “better” looked like or felt like. I couldn’t realistically imagine a kind, intelligent man who wanted to know me beyond pussy and poetry. Pain, on the other hand, was very familiar: Like a lot of women, I didn’t like it but I knew how to deal with it.

Still, I decided to make the leap. Tearfully, I told God that I didn’t know what else is out there but I was willing to see. And then I put my faith in God. I got the nerve to call the young man at three in the morning and break up over voicemail.

And then… my life erupted into a Technicolor bloom. I swear, it was like my soul invented singing! All day, everyday, I felt so good, just full of light. My spirit was positively buoyant. I glowed!

I started reading more. About Buddhism, about the principles of Ma’at, the Kemetic Diet. I was having conversations about spirituality vs organized religion. Occasionally, I went to church. I started to envision a better me, someone who was true to herself and lived fully.

Eventually, I started to seriously consider the work it would take to become those things. Right away, vegetarianism came up. Everywhere I looked it seemed everyone was advocating the vegetarian way of life. Even my boyfriend at the time was vegetarian, though he never pushed it on me. But I was adamant that I would never give up chicken or smoked sausage! I didn’t need to do all that to improve my spiritual life! Nah, you crazy.

But I kept reading and writing. I tried meditating. I was frustrated by my lack of discipline. For the umpteenth time in my life, I realized I was weaker than I wanted to be. But I for sure wanted to improve myself. And I kept seeing vegetarianism everywhere... I just needed some conviction, some discipline.

So, just like that, I stopped eating meat. I did it as a sign to myself that I was serious about my goal.

Being vegetarian has focused me. Everyday I make at least one major self-affirming decision and that is to eat foods that will give my body the most benefits. If being good to myself was a muscle, then vegetarianism would be a workout. Now that I had something to flex, I began using my abilities to make more changes. I cut negative people out of my life. I stepped up at work. Socially, I was self-assured and outgoing. I made a bunch of friends who taught me a lot about community values and shared my joy of laughter.

Vegetarianism became a foundation made of my own discipline and commitment. It was also an answered prayer. I put my faith in God and he answered: The life I’m leading now is many times better than the one I was leading before. And it keeps leading to better things.

The Price of Empowerment

2009-11-10T15:41:00.000-08:00

So, I was watching a rerun of the Tyra Show about Natalie, the 22yearold college grad who was taking bids on taking her virginity. Natalie agreed with Tyra that what she was doing was essentially prostitution. She proceeded to make the argument that selling her once in a lifetime moment was empowering for women.

I fail to make that connection. How is she—college educated, financially stable, supported by family—going to be an empowering example to impoverished women? How does her example relate to women across the country and world who prostitute due to poverty and people trafficking and homophobia and sexism and racism? For someone who makes a big deal out of being college educated, it sure looks like she’s missing some very big pieces of the puzzle.

People have been buying and selling sex since the beginning of time. Natalie’s just putting a spin on it by doing the pimping herself! And the kicker is that she’s doing it for kicks!! Like the man said, this is capitalism at its best. She is using an oppressive circumstance for personal gain. Even if we legalized prostitution, we wouldn’t be changing the core of society, we would just be reforming it. To legalize prostitution is to regulate an ugly situation without changing any of the circumstances that lead to the situation itself.

Now she’s got me asking myself what would truly be empowering. Hmmm. Something that is empowering to all people, regardless of class or gender or sex or sexuality...I think it would be grand if we didn’t pay for sex at all. Sex is like playing: for social creatures such as ourselves, it’s an essential part of our nature. We do it for fun. It teaches us how to interact with each other and what we personally enjoy. We don’t pay others to play with us. We don’t force others to play. (We all know that takes the fun out of it for everyone!) We don’t play with abusive people. And just like we have different reasons for playing, we have different reasons for sexing: expressing love, recreation, relaxation, procreation and a bunch of other reasons that are symptomatic of darker, underlying conditions. Bottomline, sex is natural and exchanging money for sex just sullies the whole thing (just look at professional sports).

Which begs several questions: Why do people pay for sex? What is the relationship between sex and class? And why are the johns overwhelmingly men and the prostitutes overwhelmingly poor, women, children, GLBTQ and immigrants? Why are there pimps and people traffickers? Any truly empowering solution would have to address the extenuating circumstances for all of these groups of people. Any truly empowering solution would have to address systems of oppression.

Paying for sex doesn’t shift any balances of power, which would be revolutionary. Natalie is controlling the price but she is not controlling the game. Men objectify women. They ogle us and touch us and fuck us whether we like it or not. Ex: rape culture. Ex: “sex sells.” Ex: sexual harassment. Money, capitalism, just commodifies our bodies, just further dehumanizes us for the profit of a middle man. Ex: the porn industry. Ex: international sex trade. If a man pays for sex, it is a reflection of his power. He is making a choice to do so and, clearly, it’s a choice he doesn’t have to make. Many prostitutes don’t have this same luxury.

Natalie thinks she’s empowered but, in the end, the man wins. He still gets to have her. She just pockets the cash. Only a woman who has internalized the inherent injustice of sexism would think she came out on top.

On the Brink: Caster Semenya

2009-09-27T11:47:00.000-07:00

Caster Semenya is a South African sprinter. This past August, her gold medal at the World Athletics Championships was almost taken away because, supposedly, she had an unfair advantage. It wasn't just that she was sooo fast. She was too fast for a woman. Some thought she looked a lil manly and, obviously, she was fast but we all know that girls don't go that fast looking like a man. So, the International Association of Athletics Foundation took it upon itself to see if something was amiss. Enter sports theatrics: tests, leaked results, denials and confessions from authorities, meddling media. Caster Semenya was thoroughly humiliated.

My heart goes out to Caster. To her knowledge, she won fair and square. She did the routine testing just like everybody else and was cleared to compete. What yanks my WTF chain is the self-serving Athletics South Africa. Caster was tested (unwittingly—they told her it was for drugs) before the race and a doctor recommended that she not be allowed to compete due to the nature of the results. Obviously, they didn’t tell her about the results or the recommendation. If the ASA had guts and integrity, they would have taken a stance at that moment. They would have been Caster’s champion or her adversary, but at least they would have been transparent and spared her some humiliation and indignity. They could have shown her some respect. But they didn’t and I don’t respect that.

Their actions denied Caster an opportunity to speak first and to speak for herself. Now she’s on suicide watch while intersex and genderqueer folk try to make her their poster child. What does Caster Semenya think? What does she want? How does she want to be recognized?

Caster Semenya embodies a nexus of racism, sexism, and queerphobia. Caster Semenya was treated as a racehorse from the very beginning because she’s black and female. That’s why they didn’t tell her about the testing or the results. That’s why they didn’t let her dictate the action, let alone be included in the discussion. This adherence to the male-female dichotomy despite evidence to the contrary (Caster is not the first) is queerphobic. Calling her a "hermaphrodite" is queerphobic. Saying that she’s not “normal” because she is intersex is queerphobic. The reasoning that having male characteristics gives one an advantage over women is sexist. Caster challenges a lot of things we think we know and insist on believing because it affords us more power and comfort.

Ultimately, I think Caster's challenge is a good thing. At the root of all of this is ignorance: we don’t know enough about people like Caster. So, while I have an exasperated sigh on hold for issues around racism and sexism, I have a little more patience in regards to queerphobia. We still haven’t weeded out the fiction from the facts. (I say ‘we’ because my struggles against racism and sexism have taught me that it’s not the responsibility of only the marginalized to make change.) However, my heart goes out to Caster. She is unwillingly in the limelight of an ordeal that was unexpected, intrusive, and humiliating. I hope that someday Caster will join us—on her own accord, from an empowered stance—in that effort.

Dear Michael Jordan, the Greatest Baller of All Time

2009-09-23T14:32:00.000-07:00

Congratulations on your induction into the Hall of Fame! You’re right up there with Jackie Robinson and Muhammad Ali! I remember the commercials and shoes, Space Jam and, of course, how the Bulls beat the Supersonics in the Finals of ’96. (I was living in North Carolina and, as I was quite homesick at the time, I became an avid Sonics fan for one season.) I saw your acceptance speech. I cried and cheered. I was so happy for you.

I don’t understand what so many white people are upset about. You said thank you—thank you for the challenges, ha! You described how it fueled your fire every time someone thought you weren’t good enough or couldn’t lead. Are white people pissed because that wasn’t the role they thought they had played? Did they wanna hear you say, ‘Thank you, massa, for pickin’ me. It means so much to dis lil country boy from Carolina.’ The NBA, Nike, Gatorade, the media all pimped you for their needs and now you’re supposed to turn around and say, “My pleasure”? Fuck all them disgruntled sportswriters and fans. I don’t think it ever crossed their minds that you had motives of your own.

Your speech was revealing and inspiring to me. I learned just how competitive you are. I appreciate that you sought challenges. What I heard you say was: don't be afraid to be the best and do what you love. (Let’s not forget that the first thing you said on the podium was that you weren’t alone in all those all those clips; you named Scottie Pippen as one of those who were there right along with you. That was true as well as true sportsmanship and leadership.) Nah, some white folks are pissed because you chose to elaborate on the crucial moments that paved the way for your greatness. God forbid a black man rise to a challenge or have aspirations and ambition! Whatever. White people’s admiration and acceptance of you is based on a racist and superficial take on your talents. They want to believe that Michael Jordan was great because of his athletic prowess and style—things they could never emulate because, given white supremacy, only brutes and savages are capable of those things. White people want a pat on the back for breeding you. But you, Michael Jordan, denied them that. In your speech, you claimed your humanity by reminding all of us that you were great because you wanted to be great.

Go, Black Man!!! You are an example of the life we can lead when we remain true to who we know ourselves to be.

Sincerely,
Blackroot in Bloom

Narcissism as Resistance?

2009-09-23T04:07:00.000-07:00

The following is a response to the article "Why we love to hate Kanye" which can be found at racialicious.com.

I agree with train of thought about Kanye representing the black middle class. The black middle class is overlooked. In some ways, aspects of our middle class realities could be considered the “hopes and the dreams of the slaves” but we are constantly getting shit for that. Internalized racism is alive and well, same as the crabs in a bucket mentality. I agree with the author’s comments that we express our angst vicariously through Kanye’s music. Personally, he’s the first rapper I actually felt (excluding his homophobia). Yeah, we may have more money but we’re still black. And while we may have more money, we still don’t always have enough money. We have internalized racism and classism, too—in the forms of grandmas who warn us not to be ‘triflin’ niggas’. Our capacity to fulfill our materialistic desires is the way that we set ourselves apart from poor blacks. Kanye’s anger comes from the realization that that little designation on our part really doesn’t mean shit in the face of society which still sees us as just another nigga. What I hear in his music is the exasperated ‘Wtf?’ that we ask ourselves when we turn around to look at our seemingly perfect and easy lives and realize that 1) we’re still black 2) but not black enough for other blacks and 3) that, ultimately, we haven’t been living for ourselves.

Beyond an egotistical desire, I think Kanye’s acting out is a manifestation of his position at the margins of the black race and at the intersections of race and class. His reality—and that of the black middle class—is not reflected in the national narrative nor is it part of the traditional discourse about black people. Yet, his life is still affected by both of those things. We middle class blacks are too white for most blacks but we’re definitely black enough for most white folks. (Did you catch all those tweets calling Kanye all kinds of nigger after the Taylor Swift episode?) While poor blacks experience racism because they fit the stereotypes, middle class black folk experience racism in ways that seek to push us into those stereotypes. Really, would we even care about his antics if he wasn’t middle class? After all, when Lil Wayne and T.I. act up, we take it as business as usual. Kanye’s acting out—his speaking “out of turn”, his style, his content—dares us, especially black folk, to acknowledge his paradoxical experience. While he is simultaneously more black (via his outspoken-ness) and not black enough (his middle class background and genre-defying aesthetic), he is always black.

What we like about Kanye is that he defies all the rules for black people. Kanye always speaks his mind--regardless who it serves, be it himself, Beyonce or all black people (“Bush doesn’t care about black people”). He dresses the way he wants and he goes where he wants (with Henessey in hand). Most importantly, he accomplishes what he wants. We can’t divert our attention from Kanye because he’s doing what middle class blacks are trained not to do and what poor black folk wish they could do—unabashedly doing and being what one wants.

A Great and Mighty Walk

2009-04-29T15:08:00.000-07:00

The film above is called A Great and Mighty Walk. John Henrik Clarke--an esteemed, self-taught historian and Pan African--talks about the history of Africans and our entanglements with Europeans, how our spirituality became their conquering religion, criticisms of the civil rights movement and Islam, and what is truly necessary for liberation. I found this 90 minute film totally riveting. Hopefully, it will resonate deeply with you, too.

http://www.cwo.com/~lucumi/clarke3.html

Click this link to read his autobiographical obituary. These are his last words before he passed in July 1998. (The film was made in 1996.)

Enjoy and, please, pass it on.

Love Fest: Review of Cristina Orbe-Okanamode-Toni Hill

2009-03-14T22:05:00.000-07:00

Cristina Orbe-Okanamode-Toni Hill
Chop Suey
March 13, 2009

So, last night I was at the Chop with, it seems, everyone from the Hidmo/Fuzzy Friends Network. I'm not even hating on who all wasn't there because everyone who showed up was love personified. I mean, how often do you go to shows where people actually DANCE? These folks looked like your older relatives at weddings who say, fuck it, i feel like moving and then get up and just start doing their own thing. A crowd of people spontaneously formed to do the electric slide and later they were two-stepping! Several people were in their own lil world--you could tell by their ridiculous grins or faded expressions--and everyone else was happily watching and cheering. There were no haters.

Unfortunately for me, I came in on the last two songs of Cristina Orbe's set. For real, I wish I had seen the whole thing. She was bringing some new material and I remember thinking to myself, I've never seen her like this before. Gone was the folksy, seated singer strumming a guitar. Last night, she had on her full, red lips and was standing, reaching into the crowd with her voice. Next time, I'm coming on time!

Then Soul Childe stepped out in his standard accoutrements--glitter, black feather boa, and tight, sculpted body--with the sassy Ms. Serious, and their band, Carousel. They had us all feeling their hip-swiveling groove. Up front, the crowd was cutting up, getting down and funky, reveling in the sexy, full-bodied funk that emanates from Soul Childe's performance. My first favorite part was when Mr. Sensual himself called me out--I was wearing that singularly stunning (I'm just sayin) yellow spaghetti- strapped dress--and we blew each other kisses. My second favorite part was when the petite Ms. Serious did her song, Chitty Bang Bang. She stepped to the front with her studded bra and shades and rocked that shit! Go 'head, girl!

Gracefully, Toni Hill let us catch our breath before she came out. The crowd had caught the spirit during the break and was chanting "To-ni Hill! To-ni Hill!" She smiled as she always does, warmly, radiating love and light, all throughout her set. If you didn't know, last night was the Seattle debut of her long-awaited album, Only Love. The crowd was full of fans who knew her from her old crew, Old Dominion, and female hip hop duo, Sirens' Echo. Miss Toni didn't disappoint us as she sang craftily of the various facets love. She romanced us, let us in on an intimate reflection on her father, and crushed with us on friends. Blacque Butterfly and Miss Floes kept it grown and sexy with some lines that won't be repeated here (but will be well remembered in case a certain someone wants to get to know me better).

Yes, it was a memorable night! I hope you copped yourself a copy of Only Love before the night was over. I'm pretty sure you can get it from the Hidmo (20th & Jackson) if you spent all your money at the bar ~~or on condoms~~ .

There are several things that I'm leaving out--tap-dancing phenom, Mia, for one--so leave a comment about the things that struck your eye at last night's love fest. Til the next show--cheers!

blackroot

Playing Small

2009-02-24T14:13:00.000-08:00

This post below is in response to an article ("The Pursuit of Happiness) posted on www.verysmartbrothas.com . The vsb article details three responses a man can give to keep a woman from getting mad with him and junking up his happiness. I thought the whole thing was sexist. If it was just for kicks, then it was one of those half-hearted kicks--you know, the i'm-only-half-joking ones. Below is the comment I posted in response on Feb. 19. Read their post and mine and let me know your take on the issue.

Why do men get so offended whenever a woman states an opinion? We say something and suddenly 1) we’re at fault for even talking, 2) it's assumed that we’re trying to be right and 3) we're crazy for expecting you to talk back. It’s all so sexist.

The whole non-confrontational shtick is so old. You’re not fooling anyone by acting like you’re meek, peace-loving creatures. Like parents, you’re really irritated because a woman is, essentially, back-talking. Regardless of the topic, it doesn’t matter what we say or how we say it, we’re back-talking just by speaking in the first place.

Unlike parents, though, you can’t ~~back-hand us~~ point that out because men and women are supposed to be equal. But you don’t really believe that (or want to)--which is why you come up with those seemingly meek and non-confrontational responses Maverick outlined above. To silence us. To put us in our place. By painting yourself small, we suddenly become the angry black woman—the teeth-sucking, neck-rolling, arms akimbo specter of bitchy emasculation.

**News flash** Women are no less inquisitive and opinionated than our male counterparts. It holds, then, that we would expect you to be able to handle a conversation without getting put out when we disagree with you or—hold your breath—want to hear more about your thoughts. Show us the same respect you have for each other and just talk. This is true for any topic, from the mundane to the deal-breakers.

DC or bust!

2009-01-27T23:38:00.000-08:00

I'm leaving yall! I'm leaving Seattle! Finally, after 10 years. BAM!

But I need your help. Do you know any bomb-ass organizations in the DC area? Send me their websites so I can check them out! I'm looking for work that is not policy related and in the areas of: black folk, community organizing, culture, women, and youth. I am really interested in addressing the legacy of slavery, rape culture, community empowerment and organizing on the cultural level. Send me anything!

Also, if you know any events that are going in DC during the summer, pass those along, too! I heard about the Caribbean Carnival in June. Thank you!

Deceiving the Youth

2009-01-21T21:05:00.000-08:00

We gotta tell youth the truth.

I went to a community forum a couple weeks ago. Youth were speaking on a panel about education--their experiences in public schools, recommendations, and where they are now. I came away feeling more than ever like the black community is failing our young people, not just the educational system (which we all know is oppressive on several levels to begin with). Their comments also reminded me of several conversations with friends and family who are currently struggling through school.

It seems that by keeping silent about reality--about systems and how culture works in this society--we feed the cycle of poverty and frustration in our communities. We plug individualism, exhorting youth to mind their business, finish school and go to college. Yet we don’t consider how exactly they are going to get there when their schools lack resources, teacher are poor quality, the curriculum is irrelevant, and racist discipline policies and academic tracking keep them sidelined from the best information and support. Instead, we stubbornly tell them they just gotta 'keep at it'—the same old bootstring theory that has only worked for the privileged or lucky few. Then youth learn the hard way. And some give up or drop out. Some say f--k it and do what they’re good at.

The youth are pissed off.

Pissed and resentful because we constantly push them towards an ideal of success without relevant preparation. If youth gotta 'just do it', then we need to help them hustle the system. We have to talk about institutional racism. We have to build up their knowledge of self so they won’t be phased by the low expectations and antics of racist teachers and guidance counselors. We must instill in them a love for reading, and a respect for their elders so they can find the knowledge they seek and need. And, most importantly, our community has to be ready and willing to support all the youth and not just the few who look like they have a chance at making it.

I suggest that we be open to alternate ways of getting to school and making money. Parents tell youth to go straight to a four-year university—where they struggle because they don’t know what they want to do and they are spending money they don’t have trying to figure it out. For some people, it makes more sense to go to community college while working: They can decide what career path they want based on actual work experience and then are motivated to stick through higher learning. I've seen this work. People who follow this route finish faster and with degrees that they want and can use vs the 'superseniors' who graduate with an ambiguous degree because they ran out of money. (i'm talking about all you communications majors.)

But we don’t talk about community college because it’s not as classy as a four-year university. I went to a private Jesuit college and, five years after graduation, the only lessons I remember came from outside the classroom. Through trips abroad and work study, I learned that I’m into social justice, not business school, poli sci or social work. At $17,000 a year, not including an academic scholarship, was it worth it? No. Not when nearly every university in the land has the same opportunities. Some of us are stuck on some bourgie shit and we need to wake up.

We can't leave our youth to the system. They're learning the hard way that is not made for them and are coming away disillusioned, resentful, and pissed. They are realizing that they are ill equipped and their chances for getting ahead, let alone catching up, are slim. Admonishing them for opting out doesn't solve anything; giving them misguided advice just perpetuates the problem. If we are serious about their success and the success of our communities, we gotta tell youth the truth and we gotta help them hustle to win.

Love vs. Sex

2009-01-21T10:51:00.000-08:00

(This was originally posted on Feb. 19, 2008. A friend and I were discussing Valentines Day and related issues. Thought this worth reposting.)

I read "The Science of Romance" by Kluger and then the crazy love article by Pinker (link below, from February 2008 issue of Time Magazine). They were as unsatisfying this time as they were when I bought the magazine last month.

They hint easily enough that the purpose of "love" is to jumpstart the procreation process, yet they eschew the implication of that charge. (By "love", as they describe it, they really mean infatuation.) I find their lack of imagination--or guts—disappointing because the conversation they don't have could reveal much about the tensions humans feel between civilization and nature. After all, we're only intrigued with love because it makes no logical sense: How could something so good be so short-lived or lead to someone completely wrong for us? Love frustrates us because it won't conform to our rules or expectations. The unsettling conclusion is that love won't ever conform. Love is decidedly all natural.

That's the crux of the issue. Culture mandates that we be monogamous forever while nature just wants us to pass on our genes. What's a human being to do?

This is where the articles could get really exciting. What would reconciling our conflicting drives look like? How would we refigure society? We could release our animal instincts from the moral confinements we've imposed upon them and do away with obligation and shame. That line about 'til death do us part' might meet an early end. We would re-think the double standard about experienced men and virginal women. We'd have lots of happy, safe, no-strings-attached sex because sex wouldn't be taboo. Legalized sex work might be a reality. We'd age naturally and gracefully. And, most importantly, we'd quit with the fairy tales and actually experience true love. We wouldn't confuse love with sex (infatuation), or confine it to sex, which would free us up to experience it in its full spectrum.

Why doesn't Kruger finish his thought? Why doesn't anyone? Because refiguring society means that we'd have to do away with the power dynamics, capitalism, and tradition that rule society. A world without Hallmark? A world in which divorce signified maturation instead of failure? A world without the excuse of rape culture? No, thanks. We're content little sadists who will take dysfunction over true happiness any day.

And that is the saddest truth—that we've become drama queens who are addicted to yet plagued by the drama we create. This truth could also be liberating, and it will be, when we realize that we don't have to trap our inner animal to experience the love that we, as human beings, are uniquely positioned to enjoy.

Other articles I've read discuss the individual hormones that make us feel cuddly and googly-eyed. My concern with that kind of information is that, given our capitalistic society, it will soon be turned into a dollar. Indeed it already has. There are tons of articles and books and pills and talk shows devoted to exploiting those hormones so we can produce love. What's crazy is that we don't realize that we have quit talking about love and, instead, are talking about sex (desire, romance, and infatuation). We feel so shameful about sex, and our obsession with it, that we discuss it in code, i.e. "love"--the use of which leaves us in the dark about what love really is.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1704672,00.html 2008 February issue of Time magazine

Finding God

2009-01-14T12:41:00.000-08:00

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination,will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends,what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love and it will decide everything.”

Attributed to Pedro Arrupe, S.J. (1907-1991)

This quote by Pedro Arrupe has always been my favorite quote but, years after finding it, the meaning is finally finding me. I just recently realized that the relationships that have meant the most to me and that have endured the longest are the ones that support this calling. I’m still friends with the men I’ve met through organizing and supporting community. Those guys from the clubs? You already know. (I’m not hating, we apparently wanted different things. More on that later.) The community I’m with now—Snackmasters, my roomies, co-workers, and a lot of the people they know—has welcomed me, all of me, even when it’s different from how they identify or groove or teach. The relationships that mean the most to me are ones in which we are struggling for LIBERATION.

I know that I have always valued education, specifically the kind that comes from one’s community. I know I have always had a deep abiding love for my people. It is my passion to ensure that marginalized peoples, especially black folks and women, do not fall prey to the insidious, ubiquitous nature of oppression. I know it is my calling to do the healing work of tracking down the facts, constructing truths. It is my calling to help us articulate for ourselves our values and vision, needs and approaches.

The people I know now have shared provocative books, hipped me to community events and struggles, have shared strategies, have sparked my creativity, lifted my spirit. The people I’m surrounded by believe that healing ourselves is necessary for healing others. We understand that we must be accountable to each other and ourselves. We know that you cannot ask others to do what you have not, or are not willing, to do. All this is difficult to do, but we do it. We help each other struggle through and in doing so we uplift our collective struggle. LIBERATION.

Epiphanies are beautiful things. Just wanted to share this one with you. Much love.