Tag Archive | Obama

Talk to Me Nice . . .

6 weeks ago, my whole world turned upside down.  Not as a euphemism, but like actually turned upside down.  I left Arizona, headed to MI on a plane on March 30th, with a job and a home. 10 days later, I was going to be homeless because the house I was renting was going on the market. “But we will of course honor your lease,” said the white woman.  My lease was up for renewal at the end of June.


So I flew back to AZ, and packed up my entire life in less than a week.  Followed by DRIVING 2167 miles from Tucson, AZ to West Bloomfield, MI. Because, why not?  Did I forget to mention my 70 Lb dog . . . whose favorite thing in LIFE is to be in a car with me.  I had to drug him . . . because just NO.


This is just here to set the scene for the actual point of this blog, because it’s important to know my mindset on this journey from AZ to MI. I was doing what I HAD to do, not what I wanted to do.  My life was in AZ. I started a business, I had friends (well like 10 of them, but still), my life wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad either.

Or so I thought.

I’ve been a Social Worker for 6 years.  Which means I understand things like “Survivor Mode,” and “Secondary Trauma,” but some kind of way, I didn’t know I was dealing with that, and in all honesty probably had been for at least 2 years.  Basically after my seizure, I just went into survivor mode and I haven’t stopped.

So much shit – good, bad, and horrible – has happened to me since I had that seizure.  Gained and lost friends, gained and lost family members, discovered Medicinal Marijuana, fell in and out of love with several people, dealt with my mother’s illnesses, got a dog, etc.

But I’d just been going full force.  Working 12 – 18 hour days, with one off day during the weekend, and usually I had stuff to do so I didn’t get the chance to just de-stress.  I’m actually slightly surprised I managed to function that long without having a serious mental breakdown.


Looking back, I was in a rut of my own making.  I wasn’t very social.  But then again, Arizona is NOT very social.  There is nothing to do that doesn’t require hiking or swimming in extreme heat.  Which is bullshit, because FAT. Thus leading to the theme of my 2000+ mile journey: “Why the FUCK did I ever think I was Happy in Arizona?!?”

Click here for my definition of Happy

I was miserable.  I was irritable all the time, and I put up with bullshit because it was the best I could get.  I put up with a nigga (and the sex was garbage) because at least he was a Black Man in Arizona that liked me. I ignored my feelings for the only otha Black Man in Arizona that liked me, because I didn’t want to ruin it. I lost myself in AZ.  I forgot I was cute.  I forgot I was sexy, I forgot that I was a GOT DAMN UNICORN.


I”m a 36 year old Black Woman.  I have 1 degree, and enough professional knowledge to have 2 more.  In multiple disciplines.  I’m the GOT DAMN Autism Whisperer.  My Vagina is a got damn miracle.  It could change your life, if you let it. I’m smart, capable of doing anything, and a cunning linguist. Driving cross country I realized several things about my life going forward.

  1. You never know how people view you.  You can have this thought, that the way you present yourself to someone lands the same exact way, every single time.  It doesn’t. One of the men I love {or am In love with, depends on the day}, (because I’m allowed to love more than one person at a time, SOCIETY) he sees this strong and resilient person, who never gives up and always perseveres.  He thinks I’m a strong person, even though I feel like I call him and cry like once every 3 months.  About completely different things, and I always feel so damn stupid for crying about it, because I’m supposed to be an adult at all times. So I feel weak, and less than for being vulnerable to him. And his take, “You may feel you’re not where you wanna be in life, but you’re right where you are supposed to be.” *thug tears*
  2. Love is Love is Love is LoveIt doesn’t have to look like anything other than something that makes you happy every single GOT DAMN day of your life. You don’t have to choose between the person who makes you laugh, and the person who makes your lady parts tingle.  No one has the right to tell you what your love HAS to look like.  Talk to the people, tell them your preferences.  If they aren’t down with the Get Down, that’s okay.  But don’t compromise yourself, to settle with what other people think is good for you.  We are living in Trump’s whole ass ‘Murica.  The world could end tomorrow, don’t waste it being sad because your needs aren’t being met. 
  3. I’m done apologizing for the way I’ve lived my life thus far.  I’m done feeling ashamed for the missteps I’ve taken.  I’m done trying to make up for the fact that I didn’t feel like I was an adult until a week ago.  I’m over anyone who tries to tell me how I should live my life, and navigate the world.  Be they Family, Friend or Foe – GTFOH with your rules and expectations.  I get to walk through the world in this new body I’m creating for myself.  I get to eat whatever the hell I want, and also RUN A FUCKING MILE for the first time in my life. The only people in this world who get to dictate how I live my life, are the people I choose to listen to.  I’m in charge of this ship now.  No more letting the wind take me wherethefuckever. 


I’m sure I’ve written in the past that today is the day my life is different.  I’m sure at the time I wholeheartedly believed it.  Maybe things did change, in a way. But this version of MJ, the one writing this blog has already won.  She is living in her GOT DAMN truth.  And it’s Sofa King Fabulous.

Please, join me. 

Let’s live our Best Whole Ass Lives for the rest of 2018. 


I’d Rather Go Blind (or) . . . an Ode to James Baldwin

I have to start this blog by saying, I’ve never finished a James Baldwin novel.  I was SUPPOSED to in my Race in American Lit class in 11th grade . . .but youth. I have to also say, I’ve lived my live on the fringe of “Black Consciousness.” Meaning, I knew the world was fucked up.  I just chose to not let the fuckedupedness {yes, that is indeed a word} affect me.  Sadly, 2014 happened.  Actually, to be honest, 2008 happened . . . but we will get there.

I’ve stated on more than one occasion, I was raised strangely.  I had access to my history.  I knew my family’s history, and the history of my people.  Not because I went to the best schools {even though that helped} or because I was so well read {again, that did help}, but because my mother made sure I knew.  I didn’t know other people didn’t watch Eyes on the Prize on a yearly basis until college.

Best. Series. Ever.

Best. Series. Ever.

I’m not just talking about a casual glace, I mean we planned our WEEK around it showing on PBS.  Homework was done at school, so that i didn’t have to do it at home.  We sang all the protest songs while we were cooking dinner, and we sat down together to watch it.  I knew who the Little Rock Nine were before the Disney Movie came out.  I used to love Thurgood Marshall because he looked like my Great Uncle.

So it’s not that I didn’t know that racism and discrimination existed in the world.  I just didn’t have to deal with it.  I lived in Detroit, but I went to school in the suburbs.  All my friends were white.  If they weren’t white, they were something that wasn’t Black.  I’ve been the minority my whole life, even within my circle of friends.  Racism was a concept I understood, and had never really encountered until my then best friend’s father found out I was Black.

I'm referring to the white one . . .

I’m referring to the white one . . .

I’d been calling their house the entirety of Freshman Year. The minute the buddy pictures came back, the “secret” was revealed.  This man, whom I had spoken to at length whenever I had called their home, who always asked how I was doing and about my family, suddenly didn’t want his child to spend time with me.  He didn’t want her to drive to my home (even though I lived in the suburbs {better suburbs than them}), he told her not to interact with me at all.  Because I had tricked him! I didn’t “talk Black,” so how was he supposed to know I was invading his daughter’s life and setting such a bad example.  Her dad was an asshole, and he was racist, and he was born in a time when both of those were the norm.

United Colors of Benneton . . .

United Colors of Benetton . . .

Racism didn’t become real to me until affected my paycheck.  I blogged about it, feel free to check it out {here, and here,} Even still it wasn’t something that permeated.  They were #IsolatedIncidents. The world is a better place in the 21st century.  We elected a Black President for crying out loud.  People stood in a voting booth, and said we put our faith in that proud and self-identifiying Black Man, with his Beautiful Black Wife and Children.  The world has changed for the better! Or so we thought . . .

This was my morning board in my classroom for a WEEK!

This was my morning board in my classroom for a WEEK!

What we didn’t know, while we were shouting in the streets, and hugging each other with pride and glee . . . was some folks was MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! WHEW, they was so mad! About life, and everything that was in it. And every time he made a difference, made a change, and potentially helped someone less fortunate than them . . . the anger built. And Bulit. AND BUILT. And for me, being able to ignore the undercurrents of racism was getting harder and harder.  Those names started adding up, and my memories of Eyes on the Prize starting connecting those dots.  From Rodney King, to Malice Green, to Sean Bell, to Oscar Grant, to Trayvon Martin.

Thank God for Black Twitter . . .

Thank God for Black Twitter . . .

Social Media ruined my life! Because I wasn’t just getting my news from CNN anymore.  I had minute my minute updates on things going on all over the country.  Every new name on the list had a hastag, and a story behind that wasn’t being censored by the media.  Suddenly, I had to acknowledge that my bubble had been popped, stepped on, and destroyed.  The anger started to build. And Build. AND BUILD. Why are they killing young children? Why are people so angry? Why do they hate us so much? Why do they work SO HARD to make sure we stay down? Why is no one paying attention?!?! Why does Don Lemon exist on Television?

I . . . loathe . . . you

I . . . loathe . . . you

Why are Black Men Thugs and White Men “troubled” and “mentally unstable?” Why are Black children a threat? Why is CNN reporting a Riot, when Black Twitter is live streaming police being the aggressors? Why are the only pictures of Mike Brown him looking like a “gangsta?” Why does the Republican run government shoot down anything the President attempts to to to a vote? Why is everyone on Fox News an Asshole? Why do I only trust Chris Hayes, Melissa Harris-Perry, and Rachel Maddow?

He Follows ever member of Black Twitter . . .

He Follows ever member of Black Twitter . . .

Why am I TERRIFIED every time I’m pulled over by a police officer? Why do I have to have conversations with all my clients about the dangers of expressing your opinions when dealing with certain kinds of people? Why do I fear for all of the children I work with who were raised in Happy Tucson, and don’t know who the rest of the world sees them? Why did I lose friends because of my reaction to Ferguson? Why was Ferguson the scariest thing I’d ever experienced as an American . . . not September 11th?



I can’t un-see those videos of Black Men AND WOMEN being abused by the people we pay to protect us.  I can’t un-know that 2015 is more like 1964.  I can’t un-experience someone walking in a church and shooting 9 people, because of the color of their skin.  I can’t un-cry those tears of frustration when conversing with people about my pain.

I’d Rather Go Blind.  I’d Rather be Deaf.  I’d Rather be Dumb.

I’m Afraid. I’m Angry.  I’m Hurt.

There is no time to heal. There is no time to recover from seeing Michael Brown’s body in the middle of a street.  There is no way to unwatch John Crawford III getting shot down for HOLDING a gun while talking on the phone. I can’t BREATHE! I can’t catch my breath, because it’s happening everyday.  Twice a day. The list continues to grow.


To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.”

– James Baldwin

This. Is. America.  This is being Black in America. This is Depressing as All the Hells.

This Is My Experience.  


Thank You For Reading.

2011 in Review: The World of @ImNotAJeaux

Last year, I created a list of quotes on my FB Page, based on things I had seen/heard/done. I obviously stole the idea from my Frat Brother Kevin, but I still did it.  This year, instead of quotes, I am going to list the Tweets that I Favorited this year. As with the quotes, no names will be posted (Unless I said It, or it was a response to a Celeb), just the tweets.  It’s up to you to guess who said it, and in what context.  Enjoy!


Word of the year from my dad: It’s not about gettin your Dick of Coochie on.  Get yourself in order

You ever be on Wikipedia and see a dudes name and be like, “Damn I’ve seen that nigga naked?” Yeah, Me neither . . . 0_o

Listening to John Cry Baby Boenher’s Speech . . . It sounds like, “Blah blah blah, defeat the nigger.  Blah Blah Blah, kick his ass”

RT @Tyrese Food is todays crack heroin&every other drug out there. There is NO DIFFERENT when you can’t STOP YOURSELF • ur Retard is showing

If I ever go to the clink, fuck Jordans and Magazines, BTICH SEND ME SOME OLAY. With the Body Butter ribbons

Dear Airport workers. I’m fat. You have Body Scan . . . Sorry. BWHAHAHAHA

I just farted in the line at the grocery store. Old white dude standin behind me.  Gonna do it again

Her: I’ve on fuzzy socks, sweatpants, nite shirt, hoodie, throw blanket, and a comforter & I’m still cold Me: bitch, U have Herpes her: Oh ok

I’m not a whore, I just have a friendly Pussy

I was thinking of faking being a douche to trick a female into liking me. But then she’d leave once I held the door for her.


Kid1: Who is this singing? Me: TLC Kid2: The Learning Channel has a singing group? Me: Son of a gotdammit…just fuck

Then again . . . this is Twitter. Where I’m either preaching tot he choir or offending people

That’s because you work with nigger babies. I have Caucasian and Hispanic Children, half of them don’t understand slang

Hell, fuck a Senator. I’m just glad I’m a fat black lady. I got that “Mammy Safe Chest” thing going, it keeps me safe.

Once you go black . . . you’re a single mom.

Don’t be made at me and her.  Shoulda joined a sorority that gave u a backbone instead of feeding you neckbones -_-

Dear Koolaid, How does it feel to the official drink of an Entire Nationality.  Black People thank you. Sincerely, Me

Clearly y’all (The Zetas) need to recruit the First Lady, u know cuz she’s big on getting rid of Obesity Me:BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The front-facing camera may well be the end of ugly chicks gettin play off their phone voice.

Waiting for the announcement of the Breezy/Bieber tour w/ Special Guests Jaden & Willow Smith….. I would buy tickets, iWould #TeamBreezy

Far East Movement: the only music group withOUT groupies cuz of the Dick Rumors

Her: u hate him why Me: He kicked her dog! No one deserves to get beat unless their name is Rihanna, but who is kicking dogs tho Her: IHateU

Him: Do we call White Jesus on the mainline, Or is that black Jesus Me: indian Jesus  answers the mainline, outsourcing

$5 on Ciara because Ms. Island crazy is all talk, but clearly got her ass beat by a dude driving a stick shift • #SheGetsMe

RiRi probably said the same shyt before Breezy rearranged her face… #imjussayin • EXACTLY. I stay tellin folk she provoked

Obviously, Rihanna can take a beating and keep on ticking so…… • You Ain’t Shit At All

RT @rihanna Ciara baby, I love u girl! U hurt my feelings real bad on TV! I’m heartbroken! That’s y I retaliated this way!• #SheAintShit

And the war of SubPar singers just got deeper….Beyonce is drinking melted gold with Gwenyth singing Fuck You with Jigga and Chris laughing

If @rihanna & @Ciara really do fight it better be in baby oil & cost $12.99 for 3 hrs. Other than that they both can STFU (it needs 2Happen)

RT @ciara Rhi u know its always been love since day 1! Apology accepted. Let’s chat in person • you dumb bitch. She was being SARCASTIC

I know we all have our issues….but twitter is NOT the place to beg your parents/Significant Others/Friends to love you. Get A Blog.

Adele is like, i’m fat & redheaded & i smoke & i wear side ponytails & bitch you will bow to my musical flawlessness • THIS

Bitches get sensitive about dumb inconsequential shit. I feel like saying, Shut Up Heaux, he just said Hi

Months? You bleed for months.. and don’t die? #WolverineTweet • Im what u call a strong heaux

RT @OMGFacts Lady Gaga wrote her new single “Born This Way” in ten minutes!. • yeah, we could tell…

I like to imagine that pretty women don’t take shits. They excrete sunshine, blueberry muffins, and good credit.

I don’t understand how Nate Dogg didn’t have money for his funeral? Holdddd up. Waiiiiiiiiiiit….

Dear Dwayne, Seriously, I just wanna lick your tattoos. Twice. And maybe call u Daddy. But that’s it. Sincerely, A Fan.

Oh. Yeah. He’s got the opposite of the jungle fever – uhh…the cul-de-sac cold? • #HeAintShyt but iLaughed..

#Random I feel like horn players probably give REALLY good head. Like good breathing control, lip and tongue control…I’m probably right

Can’t keep up w/ u & ur nicknames & acronyms, that’s like keeping up with the latest nigger words for “Dressed quite spiffy”

FOX News gone be like, “This has nothing to do with Pres Obama, he died of Kidney Failure.” – Thanks to @Luvvieig I was twitter famous for hours for this one!

I just realized I have no clue about negro “holidays”. Do we barbecue on Juneteenth? Do we get tested for Diabetes on Sweetest Day?

So Cinco de May is like Juneteenth for those spicy people, no??

Its not secret RT @ImNotAJeaux Why is LeBron almost as much of a Bitch as Kobe. Is there a secret Bitch Basketball Players club?

Shit said over the phone: I’ve had many a dick in my mouth

Men my age think their girlfriend should be a Heauxtrepreneur. A heaux in the bedroom, & an independent women everywhere else

If I point out a character flaw in u, its cuz U don’t seem 2 kno its there. I kno I’m fucked up. This is how I’m superior.

I don’t even know Ebe, but my credit score dropped 6 points just typing her name

You Bear In The Big Blue House looking, Avon makeup wearing, wet, wild and willy looking BITCH.

For all yall Captain Save a Clown Face Hoe.. Notice the person cunt punting Ebe’s hijab aint got SHIT to do with FGS..

If this is a ploy to get me to spend more money on extra sauces, yall can get the McFuck outta here wit that @McDonalds.

#Fact I predict baby Jayoncé will be born sometime between January 4th and February 4th. Also, its twins. Jayoncé and Beyen. #MarkMyWords

Floyd might be an asshole…but I wanna lick his teeth tho. They so pretty.

Don’t judge me. His teeth look like they taste like Wintergreen and Wealth.

Ray J will get arrested on a weapons charge within 3 months….favorite this

Me: Oral sex in moving vehicle is the reason our economy has collapsed Him: ?? Me: Cuz the need to have that happen on a regular basis is why white men got greedy.

Her: Clearly you’re smarter than the average….Zeta. Me: You could have said Bear, as those words are synonymous Her & Me: BWHAHAHAHAHAHA

Fat girls be having such pretty faces and awesome personalities• u forgot huge boobs and well lubricated vaginas

that’s right, you speak Oklahoma Negro. Lemme try again: gunshot, tornado, tumbleweed rustle, gunshot, icebox, intolerance.


You better get you a jaded older woman with a career, at least 4 digits before the decimal point each check, and a high libido.

Justin Beiber is 2 years away from neck tattoos, domestic abuse, and possession charges…favorite this tweet


Yes, that was My Year, in Tweets.  The Introspective Blog is coming . . . I Just Needed a Laugh for right now!

Confessions of a Single Black Female Vol 10: What These Bitches Want from a Nigga

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Arf Arf! Ayo B**ch! What’s the answer . .. the #4!

. . . DMX really wanted to know. I wonder if anyone ever told him.

Matter of Fact, I wonder if females are ever really honest with themselves about what they want. RNS, do men really want to know what we want? All the men I have ever been completely honest with, I have scared away. Men, don’t ask the question if you aren’t ready for the answer.

So as the unofficial spokesperson for Single Black Females everywhere, I am going to answer your question DMX, with as much honesty as I can, 10 years later . . .

1) A Father Figure

The difference between a Woman and a Lil’ Girl is where they call their man Daddy. The Bedroom or the Grocery Store. All these lil girls calling folks Daddy while he’s on his job and when they go out to eat, it’s a cry for help. I like being told what to do . . . IN THE BEDROOM. You telling me how to run my life isn’t going to go over well at all, unless I asked you what you thought about my choices. Can you take charge without walking all over me?

2) A Teacher

I want you to lead and guide me. I want you to introduce me to things I have never experienced before. What do I look like showing you the best restaurants, places to travel, whats going on in the town we both live in. I know what I Like. That’s Why I Like It! I want you to show me something new, make me step outside my box, and explore the world around me. Can you guide me to new things, without forcing me to do things that make me uncomfortable. Do you know the difference between Teacher and Student? Would you be willing to switch roles from time to time?

3) A Soldier

I want you to protect me. I want to feel safe whenever I am with you. Be it in the club, at the grocery store, during a thunderstorm – I want to feel like My Man Has My Back. The Physicality of that statement notwithstanding, can you protect me from the outside world? Can you be my Superman? Or when the worries of the world – my emotional Kryptonite – comes crashing down to Earth, will you falter in the face of adversity. Can you be strong enough to hold me up, when I am ready to fall? Will you help me fight all my battles: Emotional and Spiritual. Or does that Scare You?

4) A Best Friend/Counselor

We don’t have to trade hair secrets. But will you be there for me when I need a friend? Can I come to you before I go to anyone else to discuss my fears? Can we laugh and joke at anything? Can we stand in the mall and laugh at the weird couples? Do you look forward to the time we spend together? Can I cry on your shoulder, even when you are the person that made me cry? Is the best part of your day, just sitting on the couch with me watching 24 or Grey’s or the OSU Football Game? I don’t want to be your only friend, but I should be your Best Friend.

5) A Spiritual Adviser

If you don’t know A God , let alone My God, how am I going to be able to grow spiritually? Can we talk about our opinions on religion without judging each other? You don’t have to declare a religion, but you do have to believe there is a higher power that has control of our lives. Can you come to church with me, and not be ashamed of what we do at home? Can you defend your faith among those that don’t believe? Are you kind of person who judges those who don’t believe in a higher power? Do you censor your emotions based on what you have been told to believe? How firm are your religious convictions? Does my father having Rev. in front of his name make you nervous?

6) An Orator

Conversation is the world’s greatest aphrodisiac. Can you express yourself without using profanity all the time? Can we talk on the phone for hours, without running out of things to say? Can you convey your level of intelligence without making other people, including me, feel stupid? Can you hold a conversation with the Benetton Ad that is my family without being nervous? Can you turn me on Linguistically? Can you use words to convey exactly how you feel about me? (The words Wanna and F*ck not included)

7) A Musician

You don’t have to be able to sing. You don’t have to be able to play a instrument. You don’t even have to have an extensive music collection. But do you know something about music? Do you understand my love of Motown? Do you know the difference between Hip-Hop and Rap? Do you know who Sam Cooke is? Do you know any song by Donny Hathaway other than A Song For You? Will it piss you off if I play Limp Bizkit at 8 in the morning? Have you ever owned a Hootie and the Blowfish LP? Do you judge me because I have?

8) A Provider

Not to be confused with a Sugar Daddy. I don’t want you to pay my bills, I don’t want you to pay for me to get my hair and nails done. I’m not looking for a Pimp, I’m looking for a Provider. Do you have a Career? Any man can have a job, but do you have a business card? One that your company ordered for you? Do you have health benefits? Because Mine are Sho’ Nuff the Bomb! If you have children, do you provide for them, or do you only do what Friend of the Court says you must? Are you a dependable person? Can I depend on you in a time of crisis, not for financial support, but as a support system. But if I need financial support, will you offer it before I have to ask? Will you make me sign a promissory note about when I will be returning it to you?

9) A Diary

Can I tell you my fears? Can I tell you my shameful secrets, and not be afraid that you will walk away? Do you understand what I mean when I say, “For your Ears Only?” Will your friends know my business? Will you keep our relationship sacred, not to be violated by those who might be jealous? Or, will you give them ammunition they need to destroy us by telling them all the little things I do that bother you? Will you let me be your diary? Will you trust me enough, to show me your weaknesses? Do you have enough respect for me to abide by the, “What Happens in the Bedroom Stays in the Bedroom” Mantra?

10) Mr. Sandman

Can you put me to sleep? Can you take your time with me, spend hours trying to figure out the best way to bring me pleasure? Can you be my teacher, help me in those areas that I might be lacking? Can you tell me what you like, without fear of being called a Freak? Can I tell you what I Like, without fear of the same? Can we experiment, testing our boundaries slowly and thoroughly? But can you tell when the time for sensitivity is over? Can you provide the Good Dick Down, and make me wanna clean the house and make tacos?

Did I answer your question DMX? Do you now know, What Women Want? Hope This Helped . . .

*The Title had you thinking this was about something TOTALLY different, didn’t it? . . . Never Judge a Book by It’s Cover . . .*

Comments/Questions/Concerns are always welcomed.

Ms. Risa Explains It All: You Forgot You Were a N*gger

This is the one blog I have been trying NOT to write. Because I am quite certain I am going to lose friends over this one. I might get called an Uncle Tom for this blog. I might get called all kinds of things that aren’t my name.


All I can do is add this disclaimer: I have quite a few Caucasian friends, and they aren’t evil in the least bit. I ❤ my Pale Friends.


Dear Rich & Famous Black People,

I know this might come as a shock to you. But You, are Still, a Nigger. Doesn’t matter how much money you have, or how many white friends you have in your perspective industries. You are still a Nigger. Oh No, they would never call you that to your face, ever. Because they are hip and understanding. They feel for you and you inner Nigger angst, and feel bad for their ancestors part in your Nigger Pain and Suffereing. Hell, they even voted for Obama! How’s that for being down for the cause?!?

And yes, the White Masses, they love you. As long as you are spending your money on frivolous shit. Keep buying cars, and gym shoes, and jewelry from Jacob the Jeweler. Keep spending $100,000 on a purse or a vacation. Keep mortgaging houses so you look good for the next season of Real Housewives of Some City where Black People Live. They will sign that pay check that keeps you on TV, because they laugh at the Step and Fetch It routine you have perfected.

But please remember Rich & Famous Black People, you are still a Nigger.

They aren’t hanging you from a tree, because they can just hang you on television. They don’t have to put Coloreds Only at the door of the Club, because you stay in your area anyway. They don’t have to limit your resources, because we all know the only thing you will ever be good at is Sports and Entertainment. They don’t have to have a telethon to help your community, because you are too busy Choking Internet SuperStars.

Rich Black People, I know this seems harsh. I know you feel as though I am attacking you out of no where, without any form of evidence or validation. And never would I want to persecute the Nigger Race without facts. So Allow me to show you, Point By Point, what has provoked me to remind you that You – Yes You, Rich & Famous Black Person that you are – are indeed still a Nigger.

Example #1: The Unfortunate Demise of Football Star Steve McNair

A Series of Unfortunate Events
Those of us who live in Detroit knew what the deal was before the “Official” Report came out that he was indeed murdered. Black Man + Arab Young Woman = Death. Point Black Period. The Arabs own half the stores and gas stations in The Detroit Metropolitan Area. They will take your money, but they aren’t your friend. This woman had veered off the path she was supposed to be on. She was rebelling against what she was told, and she ended up dead. Look at the coroners report, there is no way she killed herself. Here is how it really went down. Father/Brother/Family Friend came to the door, she let them in. They killed Steve McNair first, made her watch, then either killed her, or held her hand while she killed herself.


Just because you are famous, doesn’t mean you can just go around and mingle with everyone. Or at least if you mingle, know what you are getting yourself into. How many interracial couples have you seen that involve an Arab/Muslim Woman and a Black Man? Just Sayin’. It’s not done. Sure, Love can transcend all boundaries, but usually, it’s done in secret in other states so your family doesn’t see. Maybe If you aren’t from Tha D, you don’t understand. But Steve McNair forgot He Was a Nigger. That girl’s Family would rather see her DEAD, than see her with Steve McNair.

*Historical Reference: Emmet Till was Beaten and Murdered for “whistling” at a White Woman





Example #2: The Kanye West/Taylor Swift Incident

Dumb Ass
Kayne West is a douchebag. He’s a musical genius, but he’s an arrogant asshole. But if you consider the backlash from his Sunday Stage Rush, you will notice that he is being treated like a Disrespectful Nigger Child. When Kanye said that George Bush didn’t care about Black People during the Hurricane Katrina Telethon, did Bush go on Television to refute his statement? Did anyone from the Republican Party demand an apology? Other than Mike Myers seriously freaking out on Live TV, NOT A NOTHING.


But Jump on Stage and snatch the mic from the “White Virginal” Taylor Swift, all hell broke loose. He had to go on Leno. He had to blog an apology twice. He had to talk to her momma. He had to call her. The President called him a jackass. Rush Limbaugh got all in his ass for days on end. What is the difference between 2005 and Now? Kayne “attacked” a country Music Star. A WHITE Country Star. The Young, Virginal Embodiment of Country Music. And they will not stand for that! Kayne might have good music, but he is still just a Nigger with Swirly Shit in his head. Who showed up on the Red Carpet, with a half full Bottle of Hennesy. Because there is NOTHING more Niggerish than ‘Henny.



Example #3: Jimmy Carter vs. Barack Obama

This is what he looks like, in case you didn’t know . . .
Jimmy Carter, a former President of the United States, made a statement about the Republican Party’s treatment of President Obama thus far.


“I think people who are guilty of that kind of personal attack against Obama have been influenced to a major degree by a belief that he should not be president because he happens to be African American.

“It’s a racist attitude, and my hope is and my expectation is that in the future both Democratic leaders and Republican leaders will take the initiative in condemning that kind of unprecedented attack on the president of the United States,” Carter said.

President Obama immediately stepped up and said Carter was wrong, and it wasn’t racism. At first I was hella pissed to read that. Then I remembered, Obama is still a Nigger. What do you think would have happened if he had been like, “Yeah. All them Crackers is Racist!” We would all be in mourning. Call President Obama an Uncle Tom, a Weak Man if you want. But he is trying to keep his life.

Fred Hampton Sr.

Some will rebuke me for saying all this, for letting the truth be known. But it’s been weighing on my heart for a while. We are not very far removed from a time when the FBI was actually legally allowed to go into a Black Man’s Home and massacre him under the guise of protecting the American People from Radical Hate Groups (read: The Black Panther Movement). December 4, 1969 is NOT just Sean Carter’s Birthday. {You like how I found a way to bring this all back to Jigga, don’t you} Google FBI CounterIntel-Pro one day . . . Will blow your mind.

I’m not a radical, these aren’t off the wall thoughts. I’m just a person who knows my history, and got the rude awaking in 2006 that even I, the Greatest Token Negro of all Time, was still seen as JUST a Nigger. Please Refer to my Notes My Fight With the Man Parts 1 & II for more on that Rude Awakening.

In the eyes of the people who still run this country, YOU ARE STILL A NIGGER. It would serve you well, not to forget that.


Radical Nigger who Knows her History

Real Nigga Shit (c) AK Volume 11: I’m So Ambitious . . .

Life’s a Game, but It’s not Fair,
I Break the Rules so I Don’t Care.
So I’ll keep doing my Own Thing,
Walking Tall Against the Rain.

Victory’s within the Mile,
Almost There, Don’t Give Up Now,
Only Thing That’s on My Mind,
Is Who’s Gonna Run This Town Tonight?

Jigga Jigga That Nigga Jigga . . .

It’s been a while, RNS Readers. I had to wait for the proper motivation. My motivation today comes from an entire 72 hours listening to nothing but Jay-Z (there was a brief Eminem Interlude inspired by his Flyness on Renegade). I didn’t know I was a Jay-Z Fan, until I looked through my MP3 library, and noticed I have EVERY album. Even most of the underground Mixtapes. I might not have listened to them, but I have them. And I BOUGHT his albums. Like on CD. Who does that?!?

Even though I downloaded The BluePrint 3, I already ordered my copy from Amazon.com, so I will own that one too. I am almost proud of myself for being Loyal to Jigga for this long. (I can’t even be loyal to what kind of ToothPaste I Like!) I didn’t even listen to him until college, but I quickly understood that he knew what he was talking about. Going through his entire Discography this weekend, I realized WHY I Love Jay-Z . . .

Something about a Suit . . . Even Ugly dudes look good!

Evolution . . .

Sean Carter aka Jigga aka Iceberg Slim aka S. Carter (You Must Try Harder) aka Hova aka Jay-Z has evolved. He went from Rappin’ about the Dope Game, to rappin’ at the Inauguration of the First Black President. In Less than 15 years.

Jay-Z is the Definition of Hip-Hop.
Realizing that lead me to these next few Real Nigga Shit Statements.
. . . Locked In are We?
Real Nigga Shit #57: Everyone can’t Be Your Role Model
People can claim to be a Role Model, but do they know what that means? Soulja Boy swears he’s a Mogul-in-the-Making, but that Fool can’t even spell his name. Everyone isn’t meant to be the next leader of the generation. What has T-Pain done for the Youth, other than lead them into his personal land of Coonery?

Yeah, Diddy was tweeting about the Protests on Howard’s Campus (where he attended, but didn’t graduate) but what group has he ever created and given financial freedom to? The reason he is so rich is because he owns the Publishing to every group he has ever worked with. Back to MJ and Jodeci. So yeah, he is ballin out of control, and is Locked In for the Cause . . . But he’s more of the problem than he is the solution.

Some would say, you can’t look up to a former Drug Dealer. Why Not? Stupid Republican folks look up to a Former Drug Addict (Rush Limbaugh)and a Flaming Idiot (Glenn Beck). Yeah, he was a Drug Mogul . . . But that isn’t where he stayed. He was smart enough to realize that this might pay the bills, but it would also get him killed. So he moved on. Look at the things he has done since he left the drug game, they far outweigh his years on the street.

Nowadays, folks listen for a good hook and a cute dance move. But Lyrically, he didn’t name those albums The Blueprint for nothing. He’s like GIVING people the key to be as big as him. But instead, they listen to Durrough and T-Pain and look for strippers and cars with an Ice Cream Paint Job.

Mogul . . . The True Meaning of the Word
Real Nigga Shit #58: Respect My Conglomerate, Stop Trying to Bankrupt It
Every person you consider a close friend should be down for your cause. And not just think it’s a good idea, but be actively willing to help you reach that goal. Providing you the motivation you need when you are afraid to fail. Even if they think in their head you are going to fall on your face, they still should be down to ride.

I have surrounded myself with so many people who enable me to be less than what I am. After a while, you stop believing in yourself. You get yourself stuck in a rut, and you can’t figure out which way is out.

Cut them Busters LOOSE! I

f they aren’t on your level, and they aren’t trying to get there, why are you with them again? I’d rather not get to talk to you when I want to because we are both busy making something of ourselves, to be honest. If either one of us is easily accessible all the time, what the F*ck are we doing?

This is not a F*ck you to all those people I don’t talk to very often, it’s just a call to arms. Are you on your Grind? Are you on the corner hustlin’ or are you on the Couch watching TV. When you think about where you will be in the next 5 years, does it include the words Debt Free? or Does it include the words, Dealing with the same BullSh*t?

Real Nigga Shit #59: The P-U-S-S-Y is only Powerful Because You Allow It To Be
I Love that Song, really I do! It speaks the truth about so much. Why do men put so much emphasis on getting Money? Power? Fame? Because they are all trying to get laid. Here is my question?

What kind of P-U-S-S-Y are you trying to get?

Because it seems to me that ya’ll are doing all that work to get sub-standard affection? Club Hoes are the one’s who are benefiting from your hard work. You worried about that cough you got since you hit up that chick at Club Esco last week, meanwhile she is on to the next dude that bought her a drink.

Who are you trying to impress?

It must not be real females. Because RNS, We ain’t Impressed. Everything you have, you worked for. So Did We! You spend all your time working, to give your money away. That’s like renting a Condo, don’t make no sense. Then you get mad because the Club Hoe you thought was gone be the Bonnie to your Clyde has 4 Baby Daddies and 2 Kids, has been on Maury 6 Times, and has a bad case of the Herp. Yeah, that P-U-S-S-Y was powerful, and you ain’t the only one who thought so.

What I See Ahead of Me . . .
Real Nigga Shit #59: I’m On To the Next One
Plans Change. At the age of 20, I was going to be the world’s best teacher, changing the way that people taught children. At the age of 24, I was gonna save the Black Youth in Detroit, one non-reading 3rd Grader at a time. At 26, my home daycare was going to revolutionize the industry. At 27, I’m going to use my verbal skills to mold the minds of Teachers, who will then go back and change their students lives.

Sh*t Happens. So does Toilet Paper. Clean up your mess, and move the F*ck on!

If one thing doesn’t work out, you HAVE to move on to the next one. I am still helping children, which has been my underlying goal since I was 10 and I thought I was going to be a pediatrician. I just have to keep adjusting the way that I am doing it. Flexibility isn’t just good in the bedroom (shout out to that Downward Dog Position I just Learned in Yoga) If you aren’t willing to change your habits when you are kicked out of your comfort zone, when will you be?

Because I was actually listening to some of Jay-Z’s lyrics, and the bomb ass interview he did on Real Time with Bill Maher, I realized that his main ambition was not only changing his environment, but finding new environments to Explore and Conquer. I mean, that’s in the Bible. Evolution, moving past what you know, and seeking things you don’t. Understanding that you have a higher purpose, that you aren’t meant to work at McDonald’s or Meijer’s or Kroger’s forever, unless you are working your way up the Corporate Food Chain.

I leave you friends with the Chorus to So Ambitious, my favorite Song on The BluePrint 3

The Motivation For Me
was Them Telling Me What I Could Not Be, Oh Well

I’m So Ambitious . . .

Hey I’m on A Mission
No Matter What The Conditions

When You Know What I Been Through

Hey, If You Believe It,
Then You Can Conceive It

Comments are Always Welcome!

Real Nigga Shit (c) AK Vol 10: The 30 is NOT the New 20 Edition

*Changed up the Format a lil’ bit. The old Format will be back for Real Nigga Shit Vol 11: Step Out of the Greek Matrix*
This N*gga Lied . . .

The Move to Arizona was not only about the sucky Michigan economy, it was a way to start over. Because even though people lie and say that you have until you are at least 35 to get it together, why is that acceptable? 30 in NOT the new 20. It’s 30. And by 30, if you are a College Graduate, with ample work experience, and you still live at home with a parent, it just might be you. Everything isn’t the economy/recession. You might be the thing that needs some fixin’.

It’s coming up friends . . .
I’m about to be 30 years old, and I have some regrets. There are at least 3 times in my life where I made a choice that did something that changed my life forever, and not in a good way. I wonder when it became the new thing to pretend that you had everything fIgured out. Like yeah, I’m a Grown Woman, and my life is perfect. To look at your friends, and pretend that you don’t sometimes cry at night because it’s just gotten too hard to handle. That doesn’t make you a messed up female, it makes you human. The difference between me and (most of) my friends, is that I usually admit my flaws.

If I had understood at 14, what I have had to learn the hard way by the age of 27, I would be a different person. If I had stopped talking during Biology, and stayed at Mercy, my whole life would have been different. If I hadn’t made the stupid ass decision in March of 2003, and stayed at UD, I could have been married to (Then) the Man of my Dreams. If I had not fought for that extra 4 dollars an hour, I could be making more money than my mother EVER has.

Ahhhh … Youth
I’ve made some choices, and done some things, and dealt with some people that I am not proud of. (Here comes the part where I turn this around into a positive note) But today, I’m Me. I’m not at the level I want to be. Real Talk, I don’t know when will ever be. But I can’t ever say I didn’t do what I wanted to do. I can never say, I wish I had . . . I made my choices, loved who I wanted to love, went where I wanted to go, did what I wanted to do.

Your 20’s is the time to completely screw up your life. Because the outside world will look at you like, “Oh, she’s just 24, 25, 26, she has no clue what she is doing.” You can get arrested for public Drunkeness, then leave the police station and get on the road to Ohio for the weekend. You can live paycheck to paycheck because you have the need to travel at least once a month. You can be selfish, because it isn’t like you have anyone else that depends on you (unless you have children, but that is a WHOLE different blog). You can do dumb shit, then recover from it. Because You are just learning from life.

But are you really?
But what happens when you are 32, and still have a roommate? That’s not having a budget, that’s not taking care of your responsibilities. What happens when you’re 34, and spend every night at the Club? In every picture that CrushMedia takes, what does that say about you? It’s probably not saying that you’re super photogenic. What happens when you’re 33 and still standing outside your ex’s house yelling because his new girl looked at you crazy when you came to get the kids? Not “I’m a Grown Ass Woman”, that’s for damn sure!

After you get to about 27, it’s time to take stock of your life. Have a small “Quarter Life Crisis” as Eva the Diva would say. This isn’t going to work for everyone. I’m not saying that everyone has to have their life together, I’m just saying that some of us do. It’s time to step out of the Greek Matrix and get a real job. It’s time to stop being a Club Hopper and move out of your mother’s house. It’s time to stop being a damn heaux and find a STABLE relationship.

It’s hard enough to be a Smart, Educated, Common Sense having Black (or White) Person in society. But when all you see on BET, MTV, VH1 is coonery and tomfoolery, it’s time to step up and be better. Try to be better. Society expects us to fail, that is why they were about ready to kill themselves when Obama got Elected. Find a lil’ cousin who spends all their time watching 106 & Park, and take them to a museum. Do something! Because it’s not looking too good right now. The class of 2012 is looking like the Coons of 1889 at this point (STILL PISSED ABOUT WHIP IT LIKE A SLAVE!). Never should watching TV make me want to volunteer at the Boy’s and Girls Club!

I’m Just Sayin’ . . . Our President is Black.
Be the Change you want to see. Stop bitching and complaining On your Twitter, and in your status messages. Stop looking at H.A.M new Greeks, and pull them to the side and HELP THEM OUT. Because they are Killing Greek Life right now! Stop letting lil boy’s curse around you in the store. If their parents aren’t doing it, then you do it. I mean, don’t beat them in the streets but DO SOMETHING.

Because someone did something for you. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Ms. Davis up the street who used to call your mother when you went past the 3rd tree down the block. At the time you hated her for being a snitch, but that Snitchin’ Ass Old Lady up the Block was looking out for you. She made sure you didn’t get attacked by the killer dog up the street, or the crackhead down the road.

30 is NOT the new 20. It’s 30. Most of the people I tag in this note are probably on the same page as me. Then again, I might be wrong. But I didn’t tag you because I think this is something you need to hear, or because I think your life is in shambles. I tagged you because I trust you to read this, then spread it around to those who aren’t fortunate to be as smart as us 🙂

Thanx for Reading. NOW COMMENT!

An Open Letter to the Ain’t Shit Nigga Corporation

Real Women Corporation
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
Washington, DC 00034
M. Obama, Chief Operating Officer

April 20, 2009


I am writing this letter to voice a complaint I have about your company’s (Ain’t Shit Niggas, Inc.)  product.  Your product has long been responsible for many recalls, defects, and mislabeling.  But recently, is has been brought to our company’s attention that you have been using your product to destroy ours.

Real Women, Inc. has been suffering due to your false advertisement for many years, but there had always been some form of balance between our respective products.  Real Women, Inc prides itself in putting forth the best we have to offer.  All of our products come with Common Sense, Know How, Education, Motivation, Sensitivity, Understanding, Affection, Love, and most other redeeming qualities that your former product (Men of Good Standing, Inc.) needed to compliment it, STANDARD.

However, sometime around the proliferation of the “BET/MTV” mind-set into the market, your company changed it’s name, and began to put out a less than acceptable product.  Those of us at RW, Inc are frankly tired of dealing with your sub-standard offerings.  The consistent flood of your main product, Ain’t Shit Niggas, is leaving a hole in the market that Real Women can not fill by itself.

Once called Men of Good Standing, who came with accessories such as Fidelity, Trustworthiness, Honesty, Maturity, Love, Intelligence, and the ever important RESPECT, it seems as though your new product is in fact the antithesis of this.  During a 6-month investigation of your product, we at Real Women, Inc have uncovered some very disturbing flaws within your new product, The Ain’t Shit Nigga.

1) The Ain’t Shit Nigga was released too early (Read: Immature).  This product tries to assimilate itself into Main Stream Society, but does not have the proper programming to accomplish this goal.  Under the influence of outside attachments (How the Play “The Game”, Keeping Bitches in Check, How to Pull a Video Hoe) and Third Party Accessories (BlackPeopleMeet.com, Redtube.com, Facebook.com), Ain’t Shit Niggas have taken over Men of Good Standing and forced those who were left on the market to downgrade themselves below the standard that was previously expected of them.  Their main product output/goal seems to have become to ruin as many Real Women as possible.  Our Company sees this, as product sabotage.

2) The Ain’t Shit Nigga has began to run it’s own product tests.  It seems the Ain’t Shit Nigga has decided that our product, Real Women has not gone through enough testing.  So the Ain’t Shit Nigga has begun placing Real Women in scenarios which put our product in danger.  From not calling, or comparing our product to it’s competition (The Jump-Off, LLC and/or Side Chick Corp), the Ain’t Shit Nigga is placing unnecessary wear and tear upon our product.  Introducing new attachments, such as Stress, Irritability, Anger, Fear, Doubt, and Low Self-Esteem to our product continues to change it’s make-up.  This results in our Product not being able to perform to the best of it’s ability, once purchased by or passed on to, another consumer.

3) The Ain’t Shit Nigga still comes in the packaging for Men of Good Standing.  This false advertisement has caused many a problem recently.  Real Women interact with this supposed Man of Good Standing, and are later forced to deal with problems they weren’t programmed for.  Issues like Sex ToDay (STD), Baby Mama Invasion, Beat a Bitch Down, and other maladies have forced Real Women to suffer unjustly.

4) Lastly, The Ain’t Shit Nigga has begun to cause our product, Real Women, to malfunction.  Constant abuse, mis-use, and damage has caused our product to become inoperable.  Accessories such as Good Mother, Good Wife, Understanding Partner, Loved Individual have not been used in quite some time.  This lack of use has short circuited the Real Woman main frame, causing serious malfunctions.  Real Women have become weak minded, lost, disoriented, and easily influenced by outside sources (Love Songs Virus, Maybe he Just Needs Time Worm, Maybe I Should Settle Trojan Horse).

This continuous process of your company’s BLATANT disregard for our companies well being has caused us to take the following actions.

a) We insist you take the Ain’t Shit Nigga off the shelves upon fear for litigation.

b) We ask you compensate each Real Woman unit, by purchasing the I am an Asshole, Please Forgive Me Repair Kit.

c) In addition, we ask you no longer compare Real Women to our inferior competition. If your product (The Ain’t Shit Nigga) seeks to be paired with a Jump Off or a Side Chick, please contact those companies for further information.

Please take this letter seriously, as we are very concerned about our product and it’s ability to function on an everyday basis.  If you have any questions about this inquiry, please contact our CEO, Ms. M. Obama, for further instructions.

Thank you,
Real Women Inc.

My feelings about the Election of President Obama

I am quite sure that everyone was waiting on what I have to say about Obama being the Future President. I almost did it in RNS fashion, but Obama deserves more than that. (Curiously, Obama’s name comes up as a misspelled word on Mozilla, wonder how long it’s going to take to fix that?)

My President is Black

Let me first just say, it hasn’t hit me yet. I have moments, when I am almost there. When I almost understand the significance of what I saw my country do on Tuesday. To all my friends that were shouting, and crying, and speaking in tongues, I applaud you for being much more in tune with your feelings than I. The only time I got close was when my boss, who I don’t really know at all, spoke about how she used to drink out of water fountains that said Colored Only, and today she stood in line to vote for a Black Man.

That is when I realized that this election was never really about us in the first place. This election is for our aunts & uncle, nanas & paw-paws, for our children yet born, and the students I teach. This election, this movement, this man is going to change the world in the best way possible . . . By making us as a people (not just blacks but everyone) better. For the men who died so that we could vote, and the women who marched so that we could have a better education, and the single mothers who fought to have their kids on the same level as everyone else.

I had my students vote on Monday, and it was HIGHLARIOUS. They all knew who Obama was, a few actually knew who McCain was. But half the “ballots” were invalid. They circled both names, colored in the faces, wrote letters on the back. Out of 20 children, only 7 actually voted, and 3 of those were for McCain. What made me realize that they are the future was when one of my kids actually told his mother he voted. He believed that his ballot meant that Obama was going to be president. His mom said that was all he could talk about, that he had voted. And he couldn’t understand why his mother hadn’t voted yet.

He made his mother go vote, because he thought it was mandatory. Because someone told him that EVERYONE had to vote in order for Obama to win. For the children who will be born while Obama is in office, that will be the norm. And unless the history books get better, they won’t understand the significance of Obama being voted President of this great Racist ass Nation. Because I didn’t appreciate being able to go to whatever college I want to attend. Fortunately, I had to mother who made sure I watched Eyes on the Prize every year, and took classes about African American History.

My generation has been portrayed as lethargic, lazy, selfish, stupid, ignorant, and most other things that society (and often times most of the world) has used to refer to African Americans as a whole. But this man, this movement, this PHENOMENON Barack made us get off our asses. He made us want to volunteer at campaign offices, and knock on doors, and make phone calls. And drive 8 hours just to see him, and stand outside in 80 degree weather just to see him at a rally.

The truth is, WE OWED THIS to our ancestors. We owed the last forty years that we as a people have wasted. We owed this for Soulja Boy, and Sagging Pants, and BET, and half the shows on VH1. We owed not going to class, and dropping out of school, and not voting or even knowing if we were registered to vote. We owed half the garbage that we call Hip-Hop, and most of the videos that we put out, and all the glorification of violence in Grand Theft Auto.

People died for us, to have the lives that we squander. People were attacked by dogs so that women could fight on TV for Flavor Flav. People were hung in trees in front of their families so that Soulja Boy could give a shout out to the Slave Masters. (Please read Robert Donigan’s note Dear DeAndre way for more Info) We have literally fucked up so many chances, that at this point, if we hadn’t stepped up our game we would have never really counted again.

So yes, I am so excited that President Barack Obama will take office on January 20, 2009, I will be there to see it happen. But don’t get pissed off when the hood niggas are blasting My President is Black. Because that is all they know. It’s what they have been doing for almost 60 years. The change isn’t going to come overnight. Black folks are not suddenly going to realize that THE WORLD is watching us now. They aren’t going to stop using broken english, and stop wearing baggy clothes. Half these folks don’t know that he’s not in office yet. Obama doesn’t have a magic stick (Michelle might say different) he can’t change everyone.

It’s up to the same people that were knocking on doors to start knocking on heads. To start expecting more of themselves and others, and recognizing that if someone can’t do it because they don’t know how, it’s our job to guide them. Those same people who stood in line for 4 hours to vote need to sit at the feet of someone older than them to learn about what worked in the past, so they can make it work for the future. Obama is a beacon of hope, but he will never be the savior of his people. He is just a man, who understood what was expected of him and actually did it.