hafacenturyncounting

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Archive for the category “How We Relate”

04 Dec 2014
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A View From Inside-Part III

When I think about childhood and youth, I think of silliness, laughter, fun, and appreciation for the simple. There is a time allotted for pretending and games. Through our experience in childhood we are preparing for our adult lives. Think about yours; the good, the happy, the uncomfortable and even some of the bad, that’s life right.

My children were raised and grew up in a way that was vastly different from my experience. Simply rearing and girl versus rearing a boy, there are many, many things that can be touched upon. However, there is a task at hand that must be addressed and it is “A View From Inside”.

My childhood was sheltered and safe. We lived on a quiet street in Kansas City, Kansas and my paternal grandmother, aunt, and uncle were two doors down across that same street. We had ten pairs of familial eyes upon us most everyday. We walked to school, in Kansas and later in California. There were boundaries set, my mother was a stay at home mom. She knew where we were at all times and we knew it was our job to make sure she did not have to do more than call out our names in order to find us.

We moved to California when I was 7 years old; sometime between my earliest recollections and that move a little “colored” girl was kidnapped, and it made the evening news. I remember the event because kidnapping did not happen a lot or you did not hear about it like you do now, I remember she was from Missouri(Kansas City has a Kansas and Missouri side) and a white man was the one who did it. I remember this because she had a little brother who witnessed the event, and he recounted the information to his parents and the police. This story did not have a happy ending, and I remember that I was introduced to a fear that I never had known before.

I grew up in the 1960’s race was NOT discussed in my home with us until we were much older. This was the case in spite of the fact that my father’s brother was the president of the ;local NAACP and was friends with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I did not know this or how important and potentially dangerous that was until after the assassinations began. Remember race was not discussed with us children until we were older. We had our place and it was not in adult conversations. I knew the difference of course, but I didn’t know any white people at that time, unless you counted my grandmother. She by-the-way was not white but simply had the complexion of.

In spite of what is reported on the news, or what is characterized on television, in the movies, etc. black people hold their children near and dear to their hearts. Black parents are over-protective and over zealous at times, but that comes from a history that made them adapt for survival. YES I SAID PARENTS!

I think back of the rules of the day with my parents; being visible or within earshot, the corporal punishment( I can say/admit most if not all I was at fault), the lectures( I better discipline you now than the white man later). I am not unique, but that was some heavy shit to put on a child. However, this part is about childhood and childhood shapes us into who we are as adults.

My parents were not hateful, but they were protective of us. Whatever one may think of corporal punishment, lack of racial discussion( barring the one about punishment later in life coming from the ever present yet elusive “white man”) ; my parents managed to stay married happily till the day my father died, raise four children( none of who were ever incarcerated nor teen parents), buy a home, and live to see their grandchildren. A slice of Americana, glamorized, marketed, denied to many people of color and TOLD it is THEIR fault as to why they do not have it.

We hold our babies near and dear; our hearts ache because they do NOT get the opportunity to just be children, because we live with the very real threat that they may not survive childhood. That is EVERY parents nightmare, to outlive their child. When a 12 year old with a toy is shot dead because of a toy in 2014, when a 14 year old is tortured and killed for a “wolf whistle” and a smart comment 59 years ago and all the other stories you heard about in between. The fear is warranted, the threat is real. I tell myself my children grew up in a world different than mine, but is it really?

My children grew up in Palos Verdes, California and Alpharetta, Georgia; white suburban heaven and havens, aesthetically pleasing, economically privileged, but the underlying feeling from most of our neighbors was “What are YOU doing here, oh that’s right affirmative action”. Damn we couldn’t even feel safe with all of that.

We shook our heads in disbelief when we saw children barely more than toddlers riding bikes in the middle of the street with no sign of a parent/their parent anywhere in sight. As time went on realization of ,”What do they really have to worry about” came to us. Their children are afforded the ability to make mistakes that kill off our babies daily. Imagine that, a child who actual has an opportunity to be a child; not a being who has that magical time of exploration and beauty tainted and poisoned with real fear, eminent threats, and horror.

Black people ARE angry; we DO love our children and we hold them in the highest esteem. A prank, youthful exuberance, or a traffic violation should NOT hold a death sentence that can be carried out by anyone carrying a gun, night stick, or possessing the acceptable skin tone.

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04 Dec 2014
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A View From Inside-Part II

My beautiful friends. I say that from a literal standpoint. I am a Libra, I revel in that. Libras have an affinity for beauty, the finer things. However, I have been blessed with people in my life who have the inner beauty as well as the outer. I look at them and enjoy their company. They remind me that there is still quite a bit of good out there in the world.. When the ugliness come to the forefront. I know I have secret weapons in my life.

I met the real life version of “Alice In Wonderland” when I was 22 years old. I had been raised in a predominately black suburban environment, so my contact with white people my age directly did not really happen until college.

Let’s call my friend, Dena. There are others I mention(Kim B., Cyndi H., Rachel F.) who I did NOT care for and they will get No love or respect, their names and ugliness will be out there.  If Disney needed a model for Alice, Dena was it. Dena came to work with me at my second real job for a large retail drug chain in their administrative offices. It was strange she and I took a liking to one another. As time went on and we discovered our backgrounds it would become more logical as well as illogical that we did become “friends”. I trained Dena, we had lunch together, we exchanged gifts. Odd as it seems we did not go out much or have each other’s phone number. However, that was 33 years ago, memory may not be exact.

Dena was younger than I was and single. She was a California girl who as the result of divorced found herself in Salt Lake City, Utah. We laughed over lunch how her primitive classmates asked, “If she had ever seen a real black person before and what were they like?” We never found irony in our being friends, at least we never discussed it. Dena was a Mormon too.

One day Dena quit the job, we did a farewell lunch and cake for her ( I was in charge of the festivities because everyone KNEW we were close) and I never saw or heard from her again. I didn’t feel hurt or cheated. I was not surprised she divorced herself from her experience with the job, and me for that matter. However, I remember her. She was in my opinion “kinda pretty”. She had gorgeous long blonde hair, ANYONE would envy. She was a nice, fun, kind person. I wish we had remained or actually became real friends, I think we could have learned a lot from one another.

In spite of my upbringing, environment, and late interaction with white people on a personal level, Dena was not my first “BLONDE friend”. She was also not my last nor was she my only. I wonder what they thought beyond conversations we had about subject matter, which did in fact transcend race. I do NOT believe they befriend me because of or even in spite of race. My being black, like their being white, came as a interesting as-a-matter-of-fact snippet. I LOVE that about those “friendships” too. I have always connected with PEOPLE based on a vibe, the energy their souls give off. I know that I am not unusual in that. Let me generalize here;  black people have to go by what their inner eye tells them, white people by and large are performers/chameleons(Kim B., Cyndi H., Rachel F.) . Therefore I also recognize many of these connections were simply associations rather than friendships. They were relationships though and you have to start somewhere.

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04 Dec 2014
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A View From Inside-Part I

I awake and my mind is generally a blank canvass. It has only thoughts of the rituals of the morning. I yawn. I stretch. I make myself aware of any pains or aches I am suffering from. If there are none that goes unnoticed. There are a few plans like this is the day I have to drop a piece of dry cleaning off, or my hair appointment is at 2:00, but overall I have no master plan to take over, ruin the life of, or hate. I JUST WANT TO LIVE.

I don’t ask for happy, I desire content; I want my family safe and happy, for with them rests my true happiness. I pray for that daily. This all goes on in about 2 seconds after I  rise in the morning. Often times there is even more, but the gist of this is, it doesn’t take long and I still have 23 hours 59 minutes and 58 seconds left in any given day. What happens during the rest of that time?

I cannot speak for all black people, but I think ALL people want some of/many of the same things in life. Just because I am black does not mean I have a inside track to the workings of ALL or most of my fellow black people’s agenda. What I have is shared experiences, as white people have with one another. What is ironic, seemingly to some if not many white people, is that we also share those same experience with the white population as well. What we don’t always share in vastly disproportionate levels, is the injustices we STILL suffer and that is race based.

I have to say to myself when something bad happens is it because of the circumstances or is it because I am black. White people who say, black people are always bringing up race want you to believe that THEY do not think there is a race problem to address. To ME that is code for,”It doesn’t concern me and mine so I don’t really care about it or care to talk about it..” Take note ignoring “it” won’t make it go away AND just because YOU don’t use the “N” word does not mean you are not prejudiced.

Prior to the Ronald Reagan Era being prejudiced was not thought of in high regards. He/his policies/his administration told white people on the fringes of being down right racist, it is okay NOT to like other races typically blacks, and that being overt in those feelings was acceptable. The standard,”Some of my best friends are black” changed to, ” None of my friends are black and I  am glad about that”.

I hated Ronald Reagan. I grew up in Southern California, I watched this horrible”c” movie actor become governor of a great state and try to change it’s dynamic. Republicans don’t do well in Cali..too much ocean and free spirit out there to be clouded with the narrow-minded thought patterns. You look at the Pacific and think.. “Yeah it’s all good”. When he became President he followed a time of massive change the decades that preceded him had been tumultuous but people were trying to get along AND like one another. As lame as the 1970’s are thought of.. folks were having”Nice Days” complete with “smiley faces”.

HE brought with him, his crotchety old body in full theatrical make-up, old  cranky thoughts and ideas. Forget about the new and young, keep things the same way we old, mean, dying folks like it, because it is familiar and WE don’t like change. He managed to regurgitate ugliness and fear. Then it started reproducing.

Back to the matter at hand, A View From Inside.. as you venture in, you find each small subject matter takes on a life of it’s own.  It has to, because to gain understanding you have to “be there”. Ronald Reagan took up three paragraphs and could have involved more, because he was in my opinion a catalyst of something I selected to write about. He affected my ability to just navigate throughout the atmosphere of life without the worry of an apex predator; which now comes in the form of a job turn down, being cut off in traffic, my child not being selected for the lead in the school play, or false arrest waiting to devour me and mine. Not because he is hungry, but because I am there.

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19 Aug 2014
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A Matter Of Trust

Have you ever been betrayed? Of course you have. You recall how badly you felt. There was a lot of emotion involved no doubt, there was anger, there was hurt and pain. Time was the only thing that would help to neutralize or erase the damage done. Then once the time had passed, what was necessary to get that individual back in good graces with you. Hold that thought and carry it with you throughout this piece.

Being a 54 year old American black woman, I am once again having to reach back and  regain my composure. I have a husband, I raised 2 sons, I have brothers, I have nephews, and then there are my friends; I must try to exist with a real monster hanging over my head, and over the heads of people I know, love , and care about. Understand the use of the word monster here, and if you don’t get it, look it up.  Fear… monsters are effective because they control us with  our very own fear.  They need not do a thing, but make their presence known and our very own psyche will do the rest.

There are some of us  who want more, so we choose to go to where the monsters can be made more tangible. Theme parks, haunted houses, and movies help provide us with a hands-on scare. However, you have to say one is still able to get a portion or even their fill and walk away. That is not the case with the monster I spoke of earlier though. This monster is ever present lurking in the dark corridors, the recesses of your mind, and maybe to some of your surprise he comes at you in broad daylight too. You don’t know exactly how to fight him because the mention of his name suggests, you are imagining things, monsters aren’t real. The “naysayers” would have you believe just that, I ask you how do you explain the dastardly deeds then? How do you defend and protect yourself from something like that. The moment you give in and say,” well maybe I am over-reacting, maybe it isn’t the way I think it is, you get hit once again. Later you ask yourself how am I ever supposed to be able to trust again.

The human spirit is resilient, but it can only be trampled over, ripped and torn, beaten up and knocked down so many times, before one invariably will lash out. The monster never thinks about that, the monster is always in the pursuit mode. Yet think of the many monster films you have watched over the years, in the end the monster usually get destroyed.

You have to realize we are talking about real monsters here, not the ones in the movies.  The monster that has treated us badly, the monster that has abused us, the monster that has lied to us and we have gotten hurt because of the monster. Then the monster says, “I have changed. I am not like I used to be, I will show you.” After all the monster has done to us, how do we forgive him, how do we begin to trust that which has been so terrible to us, when all we have is a history of being mistreated. All we want from the monster is to be left alone and at volatile times we  do want to see the monster destroyed in order for us to go back to our lives and just live. Even though we’d love to have the same outcome as in the movies, this is real life. We still have the tendency to expect the same result in real life as we get in the movies, it does not always hold true.

 

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28 Jul 2014

It Is Better To Remain Silent

Sometimes words are just too much. I may not be the”brightest light on the Christmas tree”, but I am certainly not a full blown “power outage” either. People think they know you and oftentimes will express this verbally, but situations will expose the real truth. As time goes on you realize it is not always necessary to  give everything you have away, not all of your opinions, not all of your feelings, and not everything you know/or think you know.  I have honed this skill carefully and use it regularly. Although, this is true there are still people in your life who will challenge this ability of yours to keep things to yourself.

This is because people ALL need to have a “voice”, we all want to be heard. Some require and auditorium filled to capacity  in order to “mic it out”, that is not to say what these folks want to convey is any more significant than those who choose a quiet one-on-one intimate talk. The talkers aren’t always the best listeners, and being realistic listening is an acquired skill. We grow tired of being in the perceived inactive state, because we are impatient.

My latest experience that prompted this piece came as the result of someone I know, and THEIR “guilt trip”. Additionally, it is the beginning of one of my father’s favorite sayings and it’s meaning eluded me until I was older due to a very short attention span with “adult old sayings”. Little did I know one day I’d be quoting those very same words.

I bet there was an occasion or two in your childhood that you broke something. Maybe you were playing in  the house, maybe you touched something you were told not to. Once it was broken then you tried to hide the fact YOU were totally and completely responsible for this mishap. Maybe you hid the object hoping it would not be missed, maybe you reported you “discovered” it broken to draw the attention away from self (not an option for the only children out there), maybe you outright lied, or maybe you blamed it on someone else. While none of these is the honorable thing to do, we are humans and what we imagine is generally far worse than what actually will take place. This is expected behavior in a child and though it is undesirable one can understand.

Yet the same behavior in an adult is not understood nor tolerated, sorry you don’t get a pass because once you enter adulthood the “token/chip” you carry  with you at all at all times is responsibility. Now you can deny it if you want to but it changes nothing. YOU ARE LYING TO YOURSELF! I have come to know this individual for blaming mistakes, bad behavior, etc. on someone other than self it still does not take away from how annoying the characteristic is. The long term result is you do not believe anything, absent of documented proof, this person says. The more he talks the further away from what actually occurred, you become We are at the point that an omission would be welcome.

As I recognize I am NOT the only person who knows a being like this, I offer the advice of the old saying that is timeless(as most of them are).

“It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open one’s mouth and remove ALL doubt.”

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15 Jun 2014

Daddy’s Baaaby…..

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY; TO ALL THE INDIVIDUALS WHO MAKE THIS DAY WORTHY OF NOT ONLY BEING RECOGNIZED, BUT MAKING IT WORTHY OF CELEBRATION. GOD BLESS YOU !

hafacenturyncounting's avatarhafacenturyncounting

As I was driving one morning I saw I tall slender man walking. In his arms gripping him tightly about his neck was a small child. It was chilly this particular morning so the child was bundled up, hat and overcoat, I could not tell if this was a boy or a girl. However, what I can tell you is that child was surrounded by all it needed in the world, the obvious love and protection of this man. My heart filled with admiration, I smiled and thought of the two of them all day long. I knew I had to say something about DADDIES. I got all of this passing these two on a busy four lane street.

Love is a funny thing. We speak of it or don’t say a word about it. We oversimplify the impact of it and we take it for granted. Love does…

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24 May 2014
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Ooops I’ve Said Too Much

And then you get the look. You know it is too late the taste of Doctor Scholl’s foot powder almost chokes you, but it is too late you know you should have stopped talking at least one sentence ago.

The stupid things, the word regurgitation; if only somehow you could take those things back, a rewind if you will. There is nothing magical or mysterious about saying a mean and hurtful thing; your moment of  “telling it like it is” may be subject to all kind of review from all kinds of sources, even though the intention was other than that. You put it out there and now you must deal with  ramifications.

The truth is the truth hurts, at times and is down right difficult at others. Some days you throw in the towel and say you’re going to throw caution to the wind, but then what happens when the wind changes directions and it come back in your face.  Are you really ready for that?

When one writes there is material all around for you to pick and choose from, in the non-fiction forum we battle with being too sickeningly sweet to being to morbidly real. Even falling somewhere in between can be dangerous, because you can get stuck there. This is the where the point is driven home. Moderation once again is the solution. We need balance in our lives, our very make-up dictates this. The next time you feel compelled to say something that occurs to you might be  taken in a way that you don’t necessarily mean for it to be taken.  Hold off, your haste may later require  your foot being surgically removed from your mouth.

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19 May 2014

Why Ask Why?

Years ago I was pondering something my son had done that was wrong. He knew better, he certainly had been taught better, yet he did the wrong thing anyway. In a metaphoric sense I stepped back to look at the situation and realized it did not matter why, the fact was he did it and I had to make a decision about how I felt and then act accordingly. The question of  “why” never came up. This vague description of an incident is intended for one thing and that is to illustrate how we place a great deal of stock onto one aspect of things in order to allow us to ignore what is really important.

In an argument mean words are exchanged, when the smoke clears later one participants says, “why did you say ____ to me?” The other party does not respond the way the first individual thinks is acceptable. The discussion lingers on and on. Finally both are tapped out and nothing is resolved. The question “why” still lingers in the mind of the one. The other could not or would not provide a satisfactory answer. What really got solved here?

Why is a great question for one to gain insight to a technical or mechanical question, but when it comes to matters involving emotion and feelings well your answer is only going to be as clear as the person you ask it of decides they want to be.

Next time you consider asking an individual “why” on a personal note, realize the answer of  “I don’t know” or even silence may be all they truly have. Also take into account you may not really want to know or perhaps you already do.

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05 May 2014

It’s The People

No matter how you approach it, no matter what time of day it is, there is always drama. What scenario in your life comes to mind? My suggestion to you would be run away from it, because the reality of it is this is outside your realm of control.

The minute you walk through the door you get a headache, you wake up and there is this sickening feeling is in  the pit of your stomach, no matter how you prepare for class you always seem lost; okay work, home, and school are all places we all can relate to but if you think of bad feelings first when you are there  you might want to consider the “people factor”.

What is a place four walls, a ceiling, a floor, and a door. Perhaps it is the great outdoors, with the majestic mountain views or a seascape which takes your breath away, how is it a place can make you feel any particular way? What about that human being sharing a space, with his or her bad attitude that can make the paint appear to be peeling from those very same walls or place storm clouds in your view. Homo sapiens, the top of the food chain but often the morals and ethics of the amoeba.

Today though I only left my house briefly, I had my fill of the people. This isn’t a fair statement for it was  not people in their entirety just a small cross-section, but a cross-section that invaded my space none-the-less, and they were not invited in nor were they welcome. I wanted to tell them, ” get out! go away!” However, the space they trespassed upon was in my mind.

In all honesty I enjoy people; they are beautiful,  fascinating, funny and interesting. Then there are..the others… the ones who cut you off ( in traffic, in the middle of a statement), the ones who play their incredibly annoying music too loud in the middle of the night, the ones who don’t do their work so it has a direct affect on what your workload is like, the ones who tell you “their kids would NEVER do anything wrong” and how could you question their integrity here considering the child came from parents who are rude-self-absorbed- 5150- pricks.

They are in the stores and coffee houses, they travel on the roads in cars and bikes, they are in the doctor’s office and in church . They look like you and me but they house a secret.

I will not tell you how I  truly feel; one should have to be challenged with a battery of psychological tests, apply to obtain a license, and if successful there, they must have a child before the expiration date of those same prerequisites. Then it may appear as though I am trying to run too many people’s lives. However, I do believe we are all boarder line crazy and for us to reproduce without making others aware, is just criminal. I live next door to a guy who upon meeting him you would say, ” Wow, it is tragic that the abortion failed”.

As I bring this piece to a close, I sit in my home listening to  a 40 year old man who lives in the basement of his mother’s house;  he is dirty, unshaven, has a sour disposition, and he is a hoarder. He is utilizing his weed blower to disturb me and my family any way he can, because I called the police  on him for blasting his music earlier in the day. I am further convinced I am right,” It is the People“.

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01 May 2014
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Ignite Some Happy

I grew up being taught to respect my elders. As life continues on and I watch myself and my peers entering the stage of life where we are considered elders, I see things unworthy of respect. Everyone is due respect, until they do something that takes them out of  that position.

We are growing older without growing up and you might say at 50 something isn’t it time to become an adult? I see our group running around trying to keep aspects of our lives that are fading away(i.e. outward appearances), but they are affecting who we are internally. We should learn that who we are internally is what really matters the most.

Older people often criticize the youth for having no respect for themselves or others, but who did they learn this from. Did we  fail to teach or did we fail to learn from our teachers? Inside of us exists a fire, it may be real or it may be a figment of our imagination. It is good to have that burning within, but hopefully we know where and when to extinguish it, for fire burning out of control is very dangerous.

These  same older people who cannot move as fast as before do not deserve to be run over, but they do not get to hold up traffic and throw you the finger because of your impatience. Think of yourself in this slower place and try to be understanding, work on yourself in a manner that will help enable you to accept the changes of life. Don’t get mad because you cannot do what you once did, instead do all that you are capable of in the state of  THE NOW.  Don’t be fueled by anger. It is unflattering and unwanted. Next time something ferocious grows within you, use it and go ignite some happy.

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