Today It’s haaaaaaaaaaaaard to be Black Tomorrow I pray it will be better Yesterday (many years ago) My ancestors, in this land Were shackled, chained, fettered Today, in this land I can open doors In many lofty rooms Also, today, in this land Sundown roadside stops Too often spell Black doom Yesterday We fought a fight And thought equality was won Today We watch stark videos That prove the job’s not done Yesterday Ancestors cried For life, liberty, and happiness Today We are charged to continue the fight So we can finish This mess
Tomorrow Come dressed In righteousness No lies No duress Say less
Love more
Askance
I ask:
Why is it that I write best when in pain? Then, when I come back to those words, I relive the guilt that I am here While others no longer remain. It’s as though I write in efforts to regain and retain Precious lives that have slipped into eternal gain.
Shame answers:
Selfish, Foolish Pen. They are safe. Heaven was theirs to win. Write most for those and yourself that you all might enter in…
Not Untouched
So evidently, we are not untouched. Injustices live here. My students told me, they who are young and full of promise, and now I have seen for myself… I am teacher, mother, aunt, friend, and I am angry.
Furious.
Sickened.
How much sense does a charge of resisting arrest make when there has been no other charge for arrest? How can you manufacture a situation which allows you to see what is clearly not there and still expect to be…
Justified?
No, indeed.
No indeed.
…than yourself
Reflect on that which is…
More…
Noble than yourself Richer than yourself Cleaner than yourself Deeper than yourself Fuller than yourself Stronger than yourself Rooted than yourself Truer than yourself Intuitive than yourself Nurturing than yourself Invested than yourself Loving than yourself Accepting than yourself Accepting of yourself Divine than yourself…
…while there is yet time.
Do this for yourself. Edify. Study. Learn. Grow. Become more like that which is Reflection Part of a healing, feeling Remedy of Light
I know that I am at least one day late and about $5 short in regards to a weigh in on Candace Owens. A few reasons for that, the primary one being is that I didn’t know who she was. My faith system doesn’t carry me in her direction. I don’t know her mama an’ nem, and I don’t watch much religious media programming. My spirit can’t roll with all of the masked agendas. However, since I had more than one person inquire regarding my thoughts, I decided that I needed to go back and watch her video so that I can speak intelligently.
🙄
I don’t even quite know how to begin except to say that hearing her say George Floyd was not an “amazing” person, to hear her indicate the black community panders to the “least common denominators” within their communities made my stomach turn, and that, outside of anything else she has to say, tells me these things:
She is not to be taken as a spokesperson for the black community. This is not because she is not black. Certainly she is.
However, she is not adept at explaining the black condition. Why this is the case, I can’t explain with certainty. Perhaps she is operating in a shame of black association. I don’t know her childhood, her experiences, her rejections. I’m not sure if she, on occasion bore the “Oreo” label (Smart kids, that’s a tough label. I know. I’m good, though). I don’t know if she is taking out her revenge on some culture of poverty that she escaped by flinging around a “bootstrap mentality.” I’m not even sure if she is emotionally repaying someone who insists (overtly or implied) that she continue the oppressive narrative of the generational carriers of the colonizers’ mindset. I don’t know what promises or gold stars await that would prompt or enable her to condemn the situationally unarmed incapacitated dead.
Conversely, I don’t know who accepted her in her development, whether the acceptances were conditional or unconditional. I’m not sure if someone or someone(s) told her, showed her, or implied that if she promoted the narrative of the racially-based class apologists she could get a pass that would propel her up the structure.
All I know is that some itching ears were just waiting to have an excuse to ignore the societal imperative of equality, equity, and protection under the law, as well as “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” for all people, in particular black and brown people carelessly “handled” by those within the government and justice systems.
Some of them who waited call themselves Christians. They were waiting to hear from other folks who call themselves Christian to give them a Christian word, as opposed to looking at what the teachings of Christianity espouse.
They were waiting, and then…
She handed them a box of bullets.
Bless her heart.
All that I know is that the Bible consistently conveys that “we are our brother’s keeper,” “not one is without sin,” “all praises belong to God,” “all flesh is grass.”
All that I know is that none of us is “amazing” all of the time.
All I know is that we need to stop looking for reasons not to treat each other right.
All that I know is that idol gods take many forms.
All I know is that worshipers of self abound and tear down.
All I know is that the meek matter, the oppressed matter, the poor matter, the caged matter, and…
Black Lives Matter!
I’m telling you this because I want you to get it right, whoever you are because #YouMatter
Come on now! You better let God into your heart.
You know. Real God.
❤
Black Thought…
Just a thought…a Black thought…my Black thought
What if Black was unconfined,
Not restricted, soul, body, and mind?
And what if Black could see itself
With all of its glory waving, issues unshelved?
And what if Black could escape the box
The one with all the indiscernible locks
And whisper chains secured ’round maintained by those yet free and those still bound by those without and those within, jailers and wailers, sanctified and full of sin, standing close and afar while they moan and grin?
La Profesora's Pen 