Tag Archive | Faith

I Can’t be Racist . . . I have White Friends!

It’s important to tell anyone reading this, I didn’t actually understand that I was Black, until I was about 7.  I never looked in the mirror, and some of my best friends in Elementary school were white.  I assumed I looked like them.  Call it childish innocence.  It wasn’t until my lil’ redheaded friend’s father wouldn’t let me sleep over their house, and my mom had to explain to me why.  I don’t remember exactly how I felt, but as I remember the event some 30 years later, I’m sure it made an impact.

Thats Racist

In high school, my group of friends was like the United Colors of Benetton.  We took our “Buddy Pictures” in plaid flannel of all colors.  There was a biracial girl, 2 white girls, a Filipino girl, and me. Imagine my surprise when one of my white friend’s dad was angry that she was friends with me.  I had talked to this man on the phone almost every day for a year.  He KNEW me, I thought.  That’s when I found out her dad was racist.

The majority of my life, I’ve befriended people based solely on merit. If you can hold a conversation, or we have something in common, or we work together, I’ll talk to you.  I’ve never really looked at race as a determining factor in my relationships with people.  I don’t mean, “I don’t see color,” I mean color didn’t determine your worth in my life.

Then Travyon Martin was killed.

All of a sudden, people I’d been friends with all my life – some people I considered FAMILY – were saying the most horrifically racist things about this CHILD who was killed by an overzealous asshole, who was probably racist.

“I mean, maybe he did attack that guy!”

“Why was he looking suspicious in a neighborhood he didn’t belong in?”

“I have to hear both sides . . “

Snape Flippinf Tables.gif


For the first time in my life, I realized that my existence as a Black Woman was in no way separate from my position/worth in some of the relationships in my life. I was the Black friend,  not the black friend.  I was being regarded as “hostile,” and “argumentative” for expressing an opinion.

Then, Mike Brown was Killed.

It was at this point, I started to lose friends in droves.  Before it had been, “Let’s just agree to disagree,” and precarious alliances were formed.  As long as I didn’t express my opinions, or acknowledge the unfairness of the USA, it was all fine.  But I couldn’t be quiet. I had to express myself, the pain was too great. First it was unfollowing people on FB, then I was being cussed out in the comments of my own posts, then it was people blocking me.

I’d never specifically expressed myself as a Black Woman around my friends.  I shied away from all that, because I understood it wasn’t worth the fight.  “Just shut up MJ, they won’t get it.”  Suddenly, I was trying to MAKE people understand.  I tried to have serious dialogues with people about race in America, and how it affects everyone in some shape or form.

Then, #BlackBoyJoy happened.

There was a video of a little Black boy dancing to some song, I honestly don’t remember what song.  I shared it on my FB page, with a comment like, “I love to see a Little Black Boy having fun!” There were probably some heart eye emojis, because HELLO! Lil Black Boys dancing is ADORABLE.


The step sister of my best friend – my LONGEST friendship (since 5th grade Latchkey), my #WhiteBoyBestFriend – commented on the status something to the effect of, “All children having fun is beautiful, why just black boys?”

I can admit now, she caught me on an off day.  Any other day, I would have probably just blocked her.  But I had TIME that day. I didn’t call her out on my status, I sent her a FB message.  I’ve known her since she was 12 years old, and her mom married my best friend’s dad. I was trying very hard to maintain this relationship.  Maybe she didn’t understand that she was #AllLivesMattering my post.

I’d felt some time of way about her for years.  She, IMO, was the Epitome of what was wrong with America.  She was white, and entitled, and felt that everything should always go her way.  She had never had to be hungry, or experience life failures (to my knowledge), or fear for her life when she got pulled over by a cop.  She lived with her parents, was over 25 and had NO SHAME in that.  She did the absolute bare minimum on an hourly basis, and somehow, she felt she had the right to tell ME, that #AllLivesMatter.

I was tired of her, and her White Privilege.  Her Whiteness was offensive to me that day. I tried yall, I really did.

Seriously, my pride in beautiful black children is my own…allow me to have it without trying to make the focus about you and ur feelings

Calm your bitch down dude. I asked a genuine question. There is absolutely no need to jump down my throat. You know, I used to believe you were a tolerant and understanding person, but I have to say that I no longer see that in you. I see a very angry person and that saddens me. I don’t know what happened but I feel sorry for you.

Note: My response . . . and hers. I started off doing so well, right?!?!? Like I didn’t call her out her name, or ANYTHING. Because, growth.  But after her response tho . . . I went the FUCK OFF.

So since you already pity me [I’ll] tell you this. You live in a world that doesn’t exist. You are the EPITOME of White Privilege and Frailty. If you have paid attention to ANYTHING I’ve posted in [the] last 3 years, you would know “what’s wrong with me.” You are vain, and selfish, and I pity what your life is going to become.

Keep talking bitch

Of course I had to call my best friend, and tell him what had happened.  I screenshot the convo, and told him I understood if he wanted to fall back on our friendship for a while.  Thankfully, he said, “That’s between you two.  I’m not in it.” It was at that moment when I had to remind myself – They aren’t all like that.

Some Facts which, at this point, must be Stated:

  • Whiteness is a threat to most people of color. Anytime I, in my Blackness, challenge the status quo (Whiteness), I am attacked in various ways and on multiple levels.
  • White Women, and their fragility is harmful to the voices of People of Color.  I’m tired of quieting my voice so that white tears can be heard.
  • I Don’t Hate White People. I hate White Privilege.

All this has been written to say: I’ve been entirely too quiet about this feeling of . . . unease I have regarding our current  society.  My fear/anger is turning me into a person who pushes buttons on purpose.  I wear/purchase shirts just to piss off the people I see.  I wear my hair in an Afro to offend the eyes of people who dislike – or are uncomfortable with – Blackness. I put color in my hair because I know people think it’s “Ghetto,” not creative, because I’m Black.

There are a myriad of White people in my life on a daily basis.  I have White friends on FB, Instagram, and at work.  Lately, I’ve had to put disclaimers on my status’ and posts, and what I say in group settings.  Sometimes I don’t even speak at all.  Because of the impact it could have on my job, my life, my relationships is too great. {Which is a PROBLEM}

The . . . silencing of my voice is getting to me.  It’s making me fall into depressive states on a regular basis.  When I trace back the origins of all my waves of depression in 2017, it was an instance when I silenced myself in some way.

Tupac Shhhhh

I’m not Racist . . . . I’m Black. This shit is HARD.

Before I’m a woman, before I’m a Social Worker, before I’m a Friend, before I’m a Daughter, I’m Black.  The burden of that . . the weight of that in today’s society is slowly sucking the Joy out of me.  It’s like you have a 1,000,000LB weight on your back, and every white person can’t see it.  Better yet, they keep saying to you, “Girl, it’s just 3 flights of stairs.  You can do it, because I did!” It’s making me bitter. It makes me think snide ass comments about Whiteness, then feel bad for thinking it.

To ME: My Blackness is beautiful.  My skin is damn near flawless, I haven’t aged since I was 12 (I have the pics to prove it.) My hair is amazing.  I can do 1000 things with my natural hair, and it will be just as beautiful. My curves are sexy – these hips can hurt you if I want them to, or they can change your life. The original woman probably looked just like me.

To Society: My Blackness makes me less than. My Blackness is ugly, and the exact opposite of Beauty. My hair is ugly, dirty, and nappy.  My curves are unhealthy and I don’t deserve to sit comfortably in any chair, ever.  People who looked like me, were shaped like me, where kept in museums and displayed at circuses. {Look up Venus Hottentot}

Adulthood for me, is finally understanding the real meaning of the following poem:

Mother to Son


Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—


But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

This is Blackness in 2018.  This is Me.

Can You Hear Me? Do You See Me?

Late Night Ramblings of 2011: The Fear of God…

Right…not quite sure how to start this one so I’m just going to start typing on my HTC Thunderbolt keyboard. (Product Placement)

To say, I’ve had a bad week is like saying the late Ms. Winehouse had a slight drug problem. So we aren’t going to pretend that mentally I’m in a good place right now. In fact, I can honestly say I’ve never felt this NUMB before in my life.

Which brings me to the title of this blog. I’m afraid of God. Not in the way a “Good Christian” should be, but instead in the way a person who has never had a relationship with God would be. My struggles with my own faith notwithstanding, I currently find myself in a place where I am afraid to have hope. Afraid to think positive thoughts about anything that I am encountering at this point in my life.

When I was growing up, I believed in God and Jesus becuz I was told to. My mother took me to church every Sunday, and I always had the longest Easter Speeches. But I didn’t really believe any of it. I just went with the flow.  As I got older, I started to wonder if Christians really knew what they were talking about. My relationship with a God is going though some tough times right now.

I’m not perfect, this I know. I’ve done some foul things in the name of making myself feel better. Used stolen credit card numbers to buy books, stolen money so that I wasn’t the poor kid at school, forged signatures to get my way{….this list isn’t much longer than that….} But in real life, my goal has always been to help others. To bring joy into their lives, and have a positive impact.

So as I sat in Jail last Thursday night, I wondered to this God that everyone worships and adores, Why Me? Why did this happen to me? When am I  going to be done paying for my past sins, and get to live a life of happiness. This plea, seemingly, went unheard. And even while I am typing this, a part of me is afraid that me saying these things is going to cause this unknown God to come get me again.

I need my life to change. I need to get to a place where there isn’t fear around every corner. Fear of God. Fear of saying the wrong thing to the right person, and losing another job. Fear of being rejected again and again by people who shouldn’t matter but do. Fear of asking people for help because of what they might think of me. Fear of living in the same poverty in which I was raised. Fear that one day, someone will really understand how lost I really am…

But most of all, I’m afraid to hope. To make a wish so that it might come true. I’m afraid to want success, to want to be happy, for fear of punishment from a crime I don’t even know that I committed. I’m so TIRED of being afraid of everything, and feeling nothing all at the same time.

I’m just so TIRED.

Every morning that I wake up is a great day. I am thankful to be alive, I just kinda wish I was enjoying my life, instead of just living it. This is of course coming from a person who USED TO love being alone. Since Thursday, I can’t stand being any place without someone around.

I want that to go away too. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin again, without having flashbacks of sitting in a police car, or being handcuffed, or wearing prisoner orange.

And I really want to stop being afraid of a God that I barely even believe in.

*woot woot* Big Eddie LongStroke *woot woot*

Shoutout to @ambboogie for the title

I tried  so hard not to say anything.  I really did.  Sometimes I tend to rant about things, and I know that it’s really just me and my issues.  But, the divisiveness that is this Eddie Long{Stroke} Scandal has created is BEGGING to be blogged about. Folks have unfriended people on FB, and stopped talking to family members.  HAVE YOU PEOPLE LOST YOUR FUCKING MINDS?!?!?

I have already acknowledged to myself that most black people who consider themselves deeply religious aren’t. I have already acknowledged that I will never feel right in a church that stands and claps for three minutes every time their Pastor walks into a room.  I have already acknowledged that at some point most black people who belong to mega churches stopped having a relationship with God and started trying to praise their Pastor instead.

But you mean to tell me that only Catholic Priests have inappropriate relationships with boys?!?  That only republican senators can vehemently oppose homosexuality, and be practicing it at the same time.  You fucking SHEEP!!!! They SAID God called them! Did GOD send you a letter in the mail telling you, “Edward Long speaks to and for me,” no??? Then how do you know that this man isn’t just really charismatic, and realized that the world’s greatest hustle is being the Pastor of a Mega Church.  Because it is.

Note The Smirk

Any man arrogant enough to ordain himself a BISHOP, of a Non-Demoninational Church is, JUST, an asshole.

Yes, I believe there are men and women that GOD has called to help others.  However,  in my opinion, they are few and far between.  I’m actually willing to bet that the majority of the people who GOD called to lead/serve aren’t even preachers, let alone members of a church. Every Man of Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahd isn’t a Godly Man.  {I learned this the hard way, seeing my dead beat father PROSPER in the church. *Le Sigh*}

This blind faith in a MAN is, again in my opinion, why things like this Eddie Long scandal have even happened. What mother in her right mind is going to allow a grown ass man to move her 17-year-old son into a house by himself, and not question his motives? More than likely, these mothers were so excited that “Bishop” had taken an interest in their child that they didn’t even think about why he was interested.

Cuz, this is what YOUR pastor sent to minors . . .

Coming from the city of Detroit, I can honestly say I know a lil’ something about the Mega Church Mentality. When I got back from college, I joined one of my city’s Mini-Mega Churches.  My Member number is 3120, and I joined in 2003 . . . Last thing I knew, the member numbers had hit about 9045.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Love LOVE my church. I love the music, the atmosphere, and the overall mission statement. I also love my Pastor, as a human being.

HOWEVER, working for the same Church you attend is an eye-opening experience. Everything looks pretty on Sunday morning, its Wednesday night that really shows you what the church was about.  Some things that showed me that EVERY church has it’s flaws and hustles.

  • I was once told I didn’t tithe enough, and that if I needed help with it they could just take it out of my check for me.
  • The letter that we got at the end of every year, suggesting that we as members start the new year off right by giving a sacrificial offering at the Watch Night Service (That’s New Years Eve Service for my non-black readers). The requested amount $800
  • When my Pastor returned to the Church, after surviving Prostate Cancer, the Men’s ministry bought him a Bentley. A Fully Loaded, Black on Black, Bentley. But they don’t have a scholarship fund 0_o
  • One day, a lady came running into the office, requesting to speak with the Pastor.  She said her husband was dying, and she just needed someone to pray with her, because she was losing faith. She was told that she needed to make an appointment, and someone would call her.

You gotta admit, he does have a nice body tho . . . too soon?

If anyone ever read the bible, they could use it to justify anything. The same book that says homosexuality is a sin says that eating shellfish, wearing poly-cotton blends, and growing corn and soy together in the same field will send you to hell. It’s a book people, not God’s personal doctrine. People wrote the Books of the Bible, NOT JESUS.  He wasn’t even alive to write it. And the book that you call manna from heaven was put together by a council of men, who picked and chose what they felt it should say.

Black People, yes, I’m talking to you right now.  Stop following men like Eddie Long, and T.D. Jakes, and Creflo {His Mama didn’t love him at all} Dollar. The only place they are going to lead you is into debt and shaky faith. The very people who most need the money they have, spend it on books/cds/tapes these men sell at FULL RETAIL PRICE, telling them things they already know about their life.  Do they offer solutions to their problems?? Maybe? But frequently, the answer is, Tithe more. God will Notice, and bless you. Unless they have God’s fax Number and/or he audit’s their monthly deposits, GOD really has no way of knowing what you gave.  But “Bishop” does.  So does his accountant, his financial advisor, and his stock broker.

They Spinnin' Nigga they Spinnin'

You don’t need a man to lead you to God. He’s everywhere if you look around you. To paraphrase the Bible, “ALL MEN FALL SHORT OF THE GLORY OF THE LORD”, or something like that. You will falter, its in your nature as a human. Because that is what Eddie Long is, a human. Who has some things he needs to admit to himself and the thousands of people who follow him. If you are going to pass judgement on him, make sure you acknowledge your flaws as well…..

This right Here . . . Explains EVERYTHING (T.I. being prayed over at New Birth Ministries)

I’m just saying

Words and Sounds of my Life Vol VII: In Due Time

Just Keep Your Faith in Me, don’t act impatiently

You’ll get where you need to be, In Due Time.

Even when things are slow, Hold On and Don’t Let Go,

I’ll give you what I owe, In Due Time . . . .

I couldn’t find a song last night, that would best describe how I was feeling.  My Lil sis called me, and I couldn’t help her, because I was feeling some kind of way, about everything that was going on in my head.  So many thoughts and feelings, so much stuff that I was trying to process, and I just couldn’t deal.  But This Morning . . .

Oh Lord This Morning . . .

Someone’s status message took me right there.  I’m mad because things didn’t go my way.  That all my best laid plans didn’t work out.  I should be mad that I forgot I wasn’t in control.  It’s when I start planning things, that everything goes wrong.  I might not be a Jesus Freak, but I know that God is the Head of my Life.  So if he is, what am I doing get mad because I didn’t get my way? OBVIOUSLY, It wasn’t supposed to go that way.

Struggling’s just a part of my day
Many obstacles have been placed in my way
I know the only reason that I make it through
Is because I never stop believing in you

When I was Younger, I made things happen.  Not in a magical wand, crazy witch girl kind of way, but in the literal sense.  My classmates used to hate me, because I always got my way.  I would just SAY I wanted something to happen and it did.  Why? Because I had that kind of Faith.  I had mustard seed Faith, the blind Faith that comes before life tragedies, and life changes, and heartbreak.  The Kind of Faith that can get things done.

My Life got difficult when I started doubting my place in the world.  When I let other people tell me what I was capable of.  What I was Worthy of. When I let things other than my Faith influence my life choices.

Some people wonder why we’re here in the 1st place?
They can’t believe because they ain’t never seen your face
But even when you pray, the next day you gotta try
Can it wait 4 nobody 2 come down out the sky

No, I never expected it to fall into my lap.  I just expected it to happen.  The Secret isn’t actually a Secret . . . it’s Faith.  It’s hard to have Faith, when you look around you and can’t see where your life path is leading you.  But that is what BLIND FAITH means.  Trusting some kind of higher power to be there for you and guide you when you are lost.  Crazy thing, I’m not Lost . . . Just took a wrong turn.

You’ve got to realize that the world’s a test
You can only do your best and let him do the rest
You’ve got your life, you’ve got your health
So quit procrastinating and push it yourself

“Everything for a reason . . . ” I said that like 400 times yesterday, to justify something that didn’t go my way.  But it’s true.  Every experience I have ever had has helped me get to where I am now.  So yes, I’m kinda disappointed, but I will Live.  Because that is what the lord put me on this earth to do.

And Everything Will Get to Me . . . . In Due Time.