I know it's been awhile..

I'll write something soon. I had a death in the family and simply haven't been up to blogging.

Stopped by the Cops Again

My aunt who lives in Ft. Lauderdale was in town this past weekend. I think she had been here since Thursday. I called her Saturday night and asked if she wanted to do brunch before she left on Sunday. She said sure, but then called me back later that night and said my grandfather was going to cook breakfast and that I should come out there instead.

Normally, I would have been fine with that, but he lives in a neighboring city about 45 minutes away from me and breakfast is...breakfast, which meant that I would have to get up extra early to make it there on time...and at this point it was already after midnight. I told her "ok" and that I'd be there. I mean...its not like I can say "I'm not coming because I want to sleep longer."

So, the next morning I start my trek. I left my apartment around 9:10 am. Around 10:15 am...I tend to drive slow so it took longer than 45 minutes...I start getting into the city. Now the road I take goes from 65 mph all the way down to 25 mph in a very short amount of time. It was also at this time that my mother called me to see how far away I was (I don't know why...they'd already eaten dinner). So, I'm on the phone and she asks where I am..."I'm passing the sheriff's office. Oh...shoot there's an officer and he's pulling out...let me get off this phone." So of course the officer gets behind me... and trails me like they always seem to do before they stop you. And then the lights came on.

The officer told me he clocked me going 45mph in a 25 mph zone and asked if there was any reason for that. So, I told him exactly what I just wrote about my aunt, grandfather, breakfast, being late, mom called, and I wasn't paying attention even though I'm from the city and thus, familiar with the road. He said "Ok," took my license and registration and went back to the car. A few minutes later he came back and gave me my license, registration, and a warning. Yep, only a warning.

My parents told me the city was trying to raise money for whatever reason and that I should have gotten a ticket instead (thanks Mom and Dad). Truth be told...I never expected to get a ticket and have never been given a ticket for speeding (although this was the first time I was stopped for speeding, although there was one time that I...no I better not manifest that here). Like I've stated before, I'm a pretty good positive thinker. But I was also ready to hand that ticket over to one of the family members that was rushing me to get there in a hurry. But it all worked out, God is good, I saw the family, and ate cereal.

Death in the Family

My grandmother's oldest sister died this morning. She lived in Ohio and was in her mid-70s. I didn’t know her that well, but she was family. I don’t think I’ll make the funeral. Rest in peace Aunt Pearl.

One Step Closer

I heard back from the College of Communications admissions liaison…but let’s go back in time for a minute.

I finally received my GRE test scores on Saturday (when I couldn’t do anything with them besides look at them over and over). Let me just state that I really, really hope I get in because I don’t want to have to pay for that test again, let alone take it again. It cost $140 and I had to borrow the money from my aunt to pay for it. I have yet to pay her back…but I told her I was one of her investments and that she’d receive her dividends in a few years. And she will, she knows I love her.

But anyway, I walked the test scores over to the College of Communications because as of…umm…TODAY they still had not received them. So, this morning I took it upon myself to be proactive (and to settle my own anticipation). I wrote an email to the admissions liaison thanking her for how helpful she’d been (mainly to pump her head up, but she was helpful), asking if I needed to do anything else concerning the application, and when could I expect to hear something back since I was really cutting it close in regards to time and deadlines. I mean, classes start May 11 and I don’t have an acceptance letter nor am I registered for any courses. She replied to my email in a very direct and “cut-the-bull” response:

I received your scores and I should know something from the committee sometime next week. I will notify you by e-mail.

So, all I can do now is wait and hope for the best...

Sankofa

This morning I had the television on “Good Morning America” as I was getting ready for work. I’m a fan of Robin Roberts and would like to sit on a couch and talk about whatever to millions of people just like her. Today was the kickoff of their “Black and White Now” three-day series about the current state of race relations. The first segment consisted of them revisiting the black and white doll experiment famously conducted by Kenneth and Mamie Clark in the 1940s. In the original experiment, 63% of the children (both black and white) chose the white doll as the “nicer” doll, and 44% of the black participants said they looked like the white doll. However, in the experiment conducted recently, “88% percent of our children [black children] happily identify with the dark-skinned doll,” and 47% labeled the white doll as pretty.

Here's a link to the article on the segment
http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=7213714&page=1

I was happy to see how the self-image of young black children had changed over the years. Of course you would expect a major switcheroo in views held in the 40s, but for me it was a little more poignant than that. I remember in Pre-K, roughly 19 years ago, racing the other children (boys and girls) to scoop up the white dolls during playtime. The few times that I ended up with the dark-skinned doll I remember being very disappointed that I didn’t get the light-skinned doll…my parents probably would have been disappointed that I was playing with dolls but oh well...that’s a blog for another day. I also remember a few years later---I believe I was seven---asking my cousin “don’t you wish you were white?” To which she responded in all her 11-year-old intelligence that she “was proud to be black, especially after all that Dr. King did.” She handed my ass to me and I’m glad she did in retrospect.

A few years later, one of my uncles gave me a book that served as the catalyst for my interest in black studies. It was entitled African Americans: Voices of Triumph: Perseverance. It was the first book of a three-part series and dealt with the history of blacks…from the ancient African dynasties to the present, how far we’d come, and all that we’d been through. The book was magnificently illustrated and had drawings of beautiful black people of all shades sitting on thrones, conducting meetings, and taking care of business…basically running shit. But there were also photographs of black people closer to the touch with raised trails of flesh across their backs awarded to them for speaking out, attempting to run away, and for defying those who thought themselves entitled to the life of another for mere exchange of coins. And towards the end of the book, there were more photographs...photographs of people that very well could have been my grandparents had the cameras been in different locations…photographs of the struggle, the cause, and the pride.

I credit that particular uncle with my deciding to earn a degree in African American Studies. With the risk of sounding preachy…please take the time to mentor our youths. Some hide the troubles they are unaware of deep in the trenches of their minds. And yes, a mind is a terrible thing to waste, but it is also a terrible thing to fuck up…excuse my language. My Godson happens to be that same uncle’s son, and I’m honored to have the chance to reciprocate the influence over his precious and three-year-old continuously forming mind. God bless him. He’s my little militant. I take Godfather duties very seriously, and I’m determined to not allow his mind to slip into areas of negative self-image. He has a picture of me from my recent commencement activities, and I hope to give him another picture of me in a cap and gown pretty soon. Hmmm…now if I could only bring to the light a certain someone who wants to marry a light-skinned man so that she can have a light-skinned baby…