The deepest places in my heart are reserved for my boys…

Sharing my boys with the World is such a hard thing for me to do. I feel like they are mine, only to be experienced by people who are chosen to be worthy. The World is such a callous place, waiting to pounce on its next innocent victim. I just want to keep them from all things that will cause grief.

My boys have every piece, crumb and fragment of my heart. I feel most times I am suffocating in an open room. When I think about how much I adore their existence I am reminded I must be forever grateful. How lucky I am to be the one chosen to be acquainted with such delightful beings. It is such a humbling experience to know they barely belong to me and yet they are all mine at the same time. I watch them sleep always. How blessed you all are to have the opportunity to exist in a World with the most unsaturated forms of love.

They are my day and night, on and off, up and down, every direction and movement I make is only to ensure they are at peace, that they are smiling always, not with materials but with the knowledge of how much they mean to me. How thankful I am to share this place with them. They owe me nothing and I owe them everything.

This agonizing, painful and obsessive beautiful love….




Oh I see “Disintegration….”

Disintegration- the process of losing cohesion or strength.

Not too long ago I was scoping the books of my local library… really that is actually one of my favorite past times. Sitting on the floor of the library finding a book, reading, then somehow finding another book and another, reading the first few pages then getting distracted in another piece of writing. Due to my wandering eyes and sparked interests. So I found a book by Eugene Robinson, “Disintegration.” By definition I knew what it meant so I decided, hey lets pop open this book. After a few pages I was hooked, detailing and comparing wealthy Black America in the past and present and how things have shifted, of course outside the black community but also, interestingly, inside the black community.


As someone who appreciates the truth of the discriminatory practices against Black Americans by OUR OWN country and government being put on display, I have also found myself sitting through the “complexities,” of the relationships within our community. Within my community I am taking on the role of the President of my eldest sons African American Parent Council, one of my barrier that is not found within the other parent groups is the obstacle that has to be broken down to encourage parent participation. Not the work schedules, or the money, or things that can be seen throughout the entire community of the school, but issues that are seen mostly within our community. The disconnect and resistance. Not by all but by some. My desire is to create a strong black community on campus but its proving to be rather interesting as far as the barriers I need to break down.

Things that spark my attention is the language issue. I’ve noticed how language connects other communities. A close friend or more notably a stranger off the street, once its understood they share a common language and start the verbal exchange you see such a connection that Black Americans, sadly do not have. I’ve witnessed conversations about why don’t black people greet each other on the street anymore or black women do not smile at one another. Are we really connected?

Within the book Eugene Robinson described 4 different subgroups within Black America, that slowly splintered after slavery then Jim Crow etc. etc. The disconnect from the well educated to the well not so well educated poverty engulfed Black Americans, also Africans who immigrate to the states and how we mesh into their culture and how they relate or do not relate to us.

Ways how we identify ourselves now, that at one time our unity between us was because of the clear hatred against us, granted you had the “house negro,” or “Uncle Tom” but how if you were black and I was black it was agreed that we had common reason to be close to one another. We had a common and clear battle that required slave revolts and underground railroads, that  even after slavery, water fountains and laws practiced that let you know who was black. Even within the book Eugene Robinson reminds us that discrimination still exists, but maybe since the shift from actual chains to invisible ones, Black Americans may have become the precise anticipated result of our experiences or lack thereof. I’m North Carolina born but California raised. I’m always told “You aren’t from here,” people can smell it on me. Which I kind of appreciate until white people say “I’m trained well,” which is more of an insult than a compliment…but then on the other side black people say “You are so sweet, nice and pleasant.”

I’m not highly educated but moderately educated, but still live and feel more comfortable around my people in the “hood.” I feel just like them no better no worse. Where I work is not where I play nor where I take my boys to play, I had the opportunity to have my eldest attend the schools in the neighborhood I work but I have also at work been called “colored” and have heard different regions of Asians referred to as  “Asian Niggers.” As a mother sure they would have access to a great education but at the expense of me throwing them to the wolves.

I want all my people to win, but more importantly build a sense of community. Things that may have been overlooked was that everything placed against us counted on our demise, the best way to destroy anything is from the inside out. Poisoning the hearts and homes of the community, infecting and radiating from the inside out. Clearly there are many people doing the work I do which and doing it successfully and on a larger and more grand scale. The celebrities like Common, Ice Cube, Snoop using their platform to help the communities. But of course work still needs to be done, we may not have a language but we do have a history. Obviously, none of us living now have experienced slavery but still we have experienced other forms of injustice…Sadly hopefully knowing that can bring us closer together….



Enveloped in H.E.R. “Every kind of way…”

Nose to nose, heavy breathing, chest pushed against one another, feeling the heartbeat from all extremities and limbs of the warm embrace of intimate and passionate love. Hands and fingertips around your waistline, moving slowly down the small of my back.

I wonder how many people have actually made love? Not just sex, intercourse, arousal and orgasm. I mean really those things can be achieved independently, but “love making.” As if the only two people that exist are you and your partner, everything of this world, the vanity, the materials, the rat race, never existed before or after the moment shared between these two forces of energy.

Its not even a meeting of two humans, its beyond that, the kisses, caresses, grabs, bites all those things are effortlessly conducted into a symphony of strings, harps and cellos, harmonious winds, flutes and piccolos, the smooth and strong compresses of fingertips to piano keys.

The energy is hot, the temperature between the two balls of energy is creating an inferno of passion not lust, there is nothing sinful about this form of love making. Then a burst, explosion of all things euphoric, blinded by heavy exhales and tighter grasps.

Every time I hear this song… “My ears are climaxing with the sweetest orgasmic auditory pleasures…”


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Dangerously and annoyingly Woke

I wonder am I the only one who has had the painful opportunity of a chance encounter of the Dangerously and Annoyingly Woke Culture. I don’t mean the Angela Davis woke, where it makes complete sense to question and work to help your community woke. I mean the “Kanye West Slavery was a choice” woke. Where they feel immeasurably and incorrectly enlightened and superior to the rest of us not so “Woke” individuals? Like the people who are soooo woke they literally transcend the laws of human nature and hover above the rest of us with wasted pity. Why does one have to be so “Woke” that they are more asleep than the original state of people in ignorant slumber? Dangerously and Annoyingly Woke: “I’m more aware of the meaning of life than you are, I’m right and your wrong…granted I don’t have any support, facts or clear understanding,” what is the point in being so enlightened but taking pleasure in leaving and keeping people in the dark, while attempting to remove the value of their ideas by shoving yours down their throat? That is a weird demonstration of these so called “Free thinkers”, free thought should not consist of behaving like the people we feel have been the conductors of our oppression. The Dangerously and Annoyingly Woke individuals are doing a full 360 degree rotation and ending up exactly where they swear they don’t want to be.

In my opinion and not because I attended “Woke University” but because I think we sometimes forget how much influence we have on one another. Perspective, shifting the lens in which you view your World, sometimes from my encounters with The Dangerously and Annoyingly Woke I notice sometimes they are not connected with the people. My observation is that it seems they feel they are so  in touch with themselves, that they’ve peeled back the complex layers of discovering their identity it gives them the authority and insight to judge others and pretend to know everything and anything. “Slavery as a choice,” was a prime example of “self connection,” but lack of connection with people whether the loss of connection was from our ancestors or black america contemporary culture. That display of willful ignorance and superiority is a huge factor in dismantling our ultimate end goal, which should be about progress, love and unity.

I wonder how many people who are Dangerously and Annoyingly Woke have visited or researched about other cultures, or countries. Sometimes in various cases you intend to develop a place and people that you feel you have the answers for that they can not teach you anything because you may be in a place that makes you feel superior. Those experiences can actually end up turning into an exchange you may give someone something they can physically use but they may give you something that can provide insight, understanding and growth, things that the World or Society can not measure…



You Look so Good in Love….

I have zero idea who George Strait is, his songs, interests, work…. anything… the song “You look so good in love,” was performed by Jamie Foxx during a special dedication to George. I am sure that George put together the original piece but after I heard Jamie Foxx perform it, I had not bothered to listen to any other version. Don’t get me wrong I am a strong suppoter and advocate for not remaking original masterpieces. I mean the copy is just that, a copy, not anything close to the original in its authenticity. There is something spiritual and romantic about any original piece of artistic expression, the level of emotion that takes over your soul is really immeasurable. Sometimes you see a copy of something and have short and small moments of being and amazed, but nothing like the “awe” of the original.

The song ” You look so good in love,” Jamie’s version is about 4 minutes, but I hear it, not only with my ears but my heart. To imagine someone you love in love with someone else and seeing someone enchanting their heart.

The melody and Jamie Foxx’s heartfelt performance leaves you feeling bittersweet, torn between a love song or a sad song. I have moments of envy but I’m not sure who I want to be in this scenario, the man who sees such beauty but can’t experience it, maybe the woman who has found possibly the man of her dreams but only after heartbreak or the man she is in complete adoration of, for someone to love you without limits. Either way I have been guilty  of replaying  the song and reliving the roller coaster ride of emotion.





The “Ride or Die” Narrative…

I think…. No, no, no I know I’ve always despised this idea of the “Ride or Die” woman. I never thought it made much sense to practice unconditional love when the conditions for fair treatment were either low or non-existent. Why give blind loyalty away to someone who clearly doesn’t value your dedication? In my opinion its a huge waste of emotional currency on a debt of indifferent and careless credit that will never be paid in full. An account of emotions that will always have a deficit.

Women have practiced this narrative for far too long, some never to experienced the pleasure of the “ride”being affection, understanding, honesty, transparency,  but instead only the anguish of the “die,” being actual death for some, which honestly is the biggest display of ungratefulness. You give your complete dedication only then to receive the robbery of life. The anguish manifesting into emotional death, the soul and heart partitioning pieces off and killing them in order to save inoperable but basic functioning pieces of an abandoned source that once contained love for you and others. It really is supposed to be an efficient emotional ecosystem. There’s really no emotional ecological exchange to this type of narrative. You get nothing in exchange for everything, and you are required to give everything.

We could say women could stop being this “ride or die” chick, stop giving everything to a man who gives you nothing and takes everything. We could also say, men there is no equality or fairness in believing women are here for your desires only, we are not here to take all you negative things and bounce back ready to take the next disappointment or heartbreak. I would like to assume men desire love and companionship Just like women … Leave us with something to he desired.


Lets kill the “ride or die” chick narrative.


Vanitas via Google images








Why my Major changed from History to Human Development… (Child Abuse Prevention and Awareness Month)

Broken bones, abrasions, cuts, scrapes, concussions, sexual violations, emotional wounds. This and so much more, only this isn’t a description of crimes against people in third world, developing countries. These occurrences happen here, and often, they are plaguing children here in the U.S. in high numbers. Our states, cities, neighborhoods, homes. Right after high school, I knew I wanted to teach History! Who we are is what we came from, knowing the stories, the truth the events that bring us to the present day. My mother was a teacher, her stories about teaching were never about the curriculum or structure, but the involvement  and the nurturing position she played in these children’s lives. Oddly enough having a mother so aware of the needs of safe spaces for children, I grew up with an abusive stepdad.  So the teacher my mother was, were the exact teachers that helped me through my life. I wanted to be that for another child. A space of refuge for a heart ignored and a small soul broken.

April, in addition to it being a month to support Autism, which is also very important, as children with disabilities receive higher chances of being abused, it’s also a month we bring Child Abuse Prevention and Awareness to the surface, which is where it should always be. If you would just sit and think about the best and worst parts of your childhood, we could remember who was there and the feelings we had in those hopeless moments. If you have ever suffered from abuse WHY is always your first question, as a child and still later as an adult. What if as a society we could ask not only WHY but HOW?  If you question it then you can get to the root of it.

My switch from History to Human Development was not a drastic change, because History is the basis for the WHY and HOW of my Human Development focus. What happened in these situations where children were abused, what happened to their abusers, neurological or environmental contributing factors or both. How can we work on prevention not just the aftershocks  of this earthquake. How can we stop putting band aids on these issues. I did want to teach, to help children escape and feel love and safety at least at school if they didn’t at home. I now want to teach families on how to help our children before they arrive. We were all once children this issue isn’t for just parents and educators but everyone. We all have to do our best in building our villages.