It was my first year doing the challenge. It was hard. I learned a lot about me and my ability to come up with posts for thirty days. Thankfully, it is over. LOL. Here are my reflections:
I needed to pre-plan my posts and actually schedule them. I usually had a rough draft and concept done, but I didn’t plan them in advance. That probably would have saved me time when life got in the way and I didn’t post that day.
It was hard trying to think of words that matched the alphabet that weren’t always really simple. You know how hard it was coming up with X and Z? Whew!
I like the idea of a theme but would probably find a different one next time that was a little easier. I am proud of myself for jumping out there with a difficult theme, but I probably should have picked an easier one for the first time.
It was good to be writing consistently. It’s hard to blog some days when you feel like you have nothing to talk about or life gets in the way. Planning what you’re going to post forces you to get comfortable blogging on a consistent basis.
That’s about it. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and I may participate again later this year. If you missed any of my posts you can check them out here:
Sometimes I can’t find the words to impart the wisdom that I want you to have about life. There are not enough words or moments. Our country is in a state of change. But, I believe that it will get better.
I want you to focus on the wise words by these great men in history. These quotes were picked to inspire you to live each day being a better version of yourself. Life won’t be easy. However, you are powerful beyond measure. Trust that. Trust you.
When times get weary or lonesome, reflect on the wise words of your ancestors…
“Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.” – Booker T. Washington
“Ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.” –James Baldwin (No Name in the Street)
“There is in this world no such force as the force of a person determined to rise. The human soul cannot be permanently chained.”- W.E.B. Dubois
“Racism is not an excuse to not do the best you can.” —Arthur Ashe
“There are two kinds of worries—those you can do something about and those you can’t. Don’t spend any time on the latter.” —Duke Ellington
Love,
Mommy
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “W” is for Wise. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
The version seems to be the same…I was afraid for my life. Another black boy dies. Gun downed. Another acquittal. No charges. The characters may change, but the version remains the same. Different cast. Same roles. More black boys die. It doesn’t matter. Our lives don’t matter.
The sins of the father are visited upon their offspring. What the hell did my ancestors do to make our children a target for violence? Their version always ends in a chalk outline and a community in outrage.
No more tears.
No more.
There should not be separate versions.
Only one.
The truth.
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “V” is for Version. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
As you approach your 10th birthday in less than a week, I want to tell you that I love you more than words can ever express. You are an incredible young man with a beautiful spirit. I vow with all that I am and all that I have to always love and support you. But, son, I have to be honest about something…
The world is not as it seems. Life is unjust. Justice is not always given. Life may beat the heck out of you and sometimes it may seem as though you can’t catch a break. The enemies will rise around you at every turn whether it be personal or professional. Expect heartaches and setbacks. They are only temporary son. Don’t dwell in failure or swim in sorrow.
But, be encouraged my beautiful little boy. This life is the only one you’ll get. So, no matter what cherish it. Live each day to the fullest. Bring forth the best of who you are and whose you are to the world. Color outside the lines and always remember like it says in Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “U” is for Unjust. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
I couldn’t believe what CNN was reporting. A 17-year old black boy was walking home from the store when he was shot by a neighborhood watch man. What neighborhood watch person carries a gun? Oh, this is Florida. Seriously? Why oh’ why did this boy have to die. His face looks so innocent.
His life. Gunned down. This evil man is claiming self-defense. How? Did he have a gun? He was a kid. You’re a grown man.
A hoodie. The news is trying to make it seem like this fool, this murderer was scared because this little black boy was wearing a hoodie. Are you kidding me? A hoodie.
God, please help me. Why are little black boys viewed as thugs and violent when the biggest terrorists in America are raised in our country? What can I do to keep Munch safe.
Pray.
I shall trust you to protect him. He’s all I have. He’s no thug. He’s no criminal. He’s my Munch.
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “T” is for Trayvon. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
“There is no truth. There is only perception.” – Gustave Flaubert
I’m sitting here thinking about perception or rather yet the verb of perception (perceive) and trying to understand how police are trained to view threats. Is there some secret to this? How can some officers discern what is real from what is fiction before shooting to kill?
It’s something that bothers me. I’m trying to gain clarity and understanding about this. I have a black son. I don’t like having different rules for him that some of my other friends that aren’t raising black sons don’t have. Are we perceived threats by the color of our skin? By our tone? By our clothes?
As Munch is getting ready to enter the double digits in a couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my son will begin to drive in six short years. That he’ll want to go out and have fun with friends, get a job or get back and forth to practice. On his own. In a car.
However, before that happens, I have to teach him things that could save his life if ever pulled over…
Let me do a visual check before you drive. I’m checking for all working lights so that can’t be an excuse for you getting pulled over.
No more than 2 other friends in the car. Keep your head straight and both hands on the wheel.
Stay calm and clearly answer the questions that are asked. Don’t let someone rile you up. Be respectful.
Call my cell phone before stopping and record the entire conversation on my voicemail if I don’t answer. Speak loud and clear.
Keep your license and registration card in your wallet and your wallet in the cup holder. Don’t reach for anything.
I guess I’m perceiving that the officer that stops my son will see him as human. A young man. A man worthy to make it home to mama.
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “P” is for Perception. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
A mother with almost 10 years of experience in raising a black boy seeks a position where I can foresee the future. I’m highly intelligent with an ability to multi-task my projects, people and presence in my son’s life. My background in Human Resources allows me to find multiple ways to effectively communicate my expectations with my son. I view discipline as a way to influence positive behavior and have achieved successful results. I’m both strong willed and determined, which is a requirement when trying to navigate two different parenting styles in two households. I value developing my son into a young man that will live to watch his great grandchildren playing in the backyard which is why I’m looking for a position that will allow me to confirm that all I’ve done and continue to do will be enough. That he will live.
This post was part of the A2Z challenge and the letter “O” is for Objective. My posts will be written as a journal style for the challenge and will be on the theme: Mothering While Black. I hope you enjoyed it.
Black History is American History. We are all part of this fabric that makes up the quilt of America. However, the story of our history has been downplayed in the history books that it is pathetic. We have to teach our children the truth. If you don’t know your history you are bound to repeat it.
As evident as to the times right now in the U.S. I stand with everyone. I don’t play with Christianity and I don’t play with my love for this country. Which is why I have the right to criticize her when she’s wrong.
But, in the midst of all this drama that is occurring here in the U.S. I want to remind you that it’s never to early to start to teach our children about Black History. I started when Munch was 6 and learning to read. He did a report on black history and I wanted to try and fill in the blanks. Munch has an extensive school schedule but I wanted to spend time with him this month focusing on our history outside of his French and English curriculum. I want to fill in the blanks for him and allow him the opportunity to know what it means to say “I’m black and I’m proud”.
Pride and self-love are very important in any race. I’m teaching him to love the skin he’s in. You can’t change it. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful and wanted.
So, my black history month reading list for Munch includes the following 4 books:
What are you doing to teach your children about black history month? Do you have any suggested reading material for an 8 year old?
In other poor excuses for being fired because you’re an assumed racist, Gerod Roth (who goes by the name of Geris Hilton on Facebook), claims that he was a victim. A victim of being profiled as a racist because of his friends. Scratching your head yet? Okay, here’s the deal….Gerod iswas an employee of Polaris Marketing Group in Atlanta, Georgia. He took a selfie that included him and his co-worker’s child. See that cute little brown baby in the background? He posted the selfie on his personal Facebook page and made it the profile picture.
He didn’t get the mother’s permission to take and post a picture of her child on his Facebook page, but let’s assume that he thought they were friends and she was okay with it. Right? Wrong. They weren’t Facebook friends. She didn’t get tagged in the photo. If she had she would have received the shock of her lives. Why? Because check out what HIS FRIENDS had to say about the photo…
Mad yet? I was. How dare someone allow the ignorance of their friends to be played out on their personal Facebook page. Delete them. Call them out on their racist behavior. Take a stand. Nope. You do nothing.
And then you have the nerve to say that you are a victim. A victim of what sir? White Privilege? Entitlement? Being a Butt? The fact that you in essence condoned the behavior of your friends means that you are not a victim sir. He is a 3-year-old child. A black boy who by definition of growing up in this country will be labeled a thug or feared. Oh, but not before he gets insulted and accused of being a slave and you are his slave owner.
Side bar: White Privilege is the obliviousness to race. Read one author’s definition of her white privilege…
Some have said that being white means never having to think about it. White privilege is the privilege of obliviousness to race. It enables me, as a white person, to go through most of my life easily avoiding the feeling of discomfort that I experienced when I joined Regina at her table in the dining hall.
White privilege is also the privilege of invisible preference. It is the privilege of going to the movies, turning the television on, or reading the paper and seeing people of your race widely represented. It is the privilege of not having to tell your children that they have to be twice as good in school in order to be perceived the same. It is the privilege of not receiving “the talk” from your father — or conversely, not having to give it to your pre-teen son — in order to learn and teach about the life and death dangers of standing up to certain police. – Rachel Lasser, Huffington Post
You can watch the video here where he explains being a victim:
As I watched the video I knew at that moment that this man was suffering from a case of white privilege and entitlement. How could we accuse him of being a racist? He can’t control his friends. He is a victim too. Right? Wrong! He’s not stupid and then he made matters worse. He posted that the little boy was feral. Feral? Really? However, he said that “feral” was assumed to be racist and I guess it’s not by his admission.
I’m sorry, calling someone else’s child feral in the context of the hate posts that were circulating on your post is racist. Dictionary. com defines feral as:
Anything about the definition reads warm and fuzzy by referring to someone’s child as feral? Dude, you are wrong! Own it and stop trying to play the victim. Too many people want to breathe foul and claim they were a victim when they get caught doing shady things. This was someone’s child. You are someone’s child and if I was your mother I would beat the holy heck out of you.
This man has lost his job and the company decided to stand with the mother on this one thankfully. He has insulted a mother and her child and all the other mothers out here wondering what we would have done if that were my child. He is not a victim. The little boy (whose name is Cayden) is a victim.
Let’s remember that you are judged by the company you keep. If you hang out with a bunch of racists and they boldly post on your Facebook page, you my friend are a racist….but only on Facebook right? Not in everyday life.
