Monday, September 28, 2015

Black Magic

I love the HELL out of being black.
Yes, I said it. There's more to it.

 Black women and girls are magical.

 Contrary to popular belief, I did not reach this conclusion overnight. Rather, the black magic I see comes from all of my beautiful strong black sisters including my mom, lives in my wife, and manifests itself in my daughter. We can go on and on and on about the "blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice" and all of the other affirmations of black love yet there is more to it. That magic was always there - even when the temptation to condemn that magnetism became very real during my teenage and college years. According to a few people, that continued well into my late twenties even after my "nigga wake-up call."

 The only thing separating black women from anyone else is opportunity. Black magic helps us cross the imaginary line to power. 

How?

 When certain doors were closed, black magic props us up and finds another door - or in some instances, an open side window to climb through. This mysticism has been our backbone for decades if not centuries from slavery to the present day. In fact, this is enchantment at its highest form:  empowerment, unification, and dependability, inducing the rest of us to gaze in awe. 
In my mind, I see a line and over that line, I see green fields and lovely flowers and beautiful white women with their arms stretched our to me, over that line. But I can't seem to get there no how. I can't seem to get over that line.                                                                                                                   - Harriet Tubman 
My sisters are no longer limited in life to being cooks and nannies. Their black magic is fierce, beautiful, firm, and fearless standing up for justice in an unfair world, and certainly provides a cocoon from the world's travails. My wife and mother both have that black girl magic in a world that tried to paint them as ordinary or subservient (guess what world? You failed) and my daughter's magic is an untapped twinkle that Lord willing, I am able to see shine like a star.

 Being unapologetically black and loving and fighting for your community doesn't mean anti-white. It means keeping your head up in a world that tells us to be ashamed of ourselves. 

 Black women and girls are magical. Keep using those gifts for good. 

 
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Say Oops Upside Ya Head

The shortest walk through black America shows the white response to any kind of black power flexing its muscles has always been the same regardless of the century or tone.

For the longest time, it seems like the moment we find our voices, they are swiftly silenced or the backlash is so severe, we go into exile. In our parents' time, it was considered "the Negro problem"; when black leadership and celebrities alike called out white America for its supremacy flare-ups, they were ignored. Today, you can also substitute the word "Muslim" for "black" in the same context to extremists.
What are they afraid of? Karma?

Have you noticed that each black freedom has been met with physical or psychic violence, smear tactics, or diversions aimed to shake us from our mission? This is despite the fact that when black people push, all people ride a little better.

Perhaps white people have had other people to screw for so long that now they are nearing minority status, it scares the shit out of them. That may explain those ignorant Facebook comments rife with misspellings and juvenile insults or how Fox News damns Black Lives Matter at every turn, even labeling the grassroots movement as a hate group.

How do you know they're scared?

Today's rhetoric.

Have you listened to any of the Republican candidates for President of the United States or Jason Rapert (R-Bigelow)? The Tea Party rise five years ago is primarily the backlash to the passage of Obamacare and you can study Citizens United to follow the money trail. It wasn't that long ago when "Pimpin' Bill" Clinton passed conservative anti-crime bills that expanded prison construction and locked up an even more disproportionate number of black and brown Americans and a welfare reform bill that made it more difficult for the poorest of people to make it out of poverty.

Want more?
In response to school desegregation, the rednecks in power found those dusty-ass Confederate flags from the annals of history to fly high from pickup trucks, flag poles, and on bikinis. Hell, even the feds helped out: the US government was found culpable in the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1990.

Still need another oops upside ya head?

Reconstruction marked the time which black officeholders occupied more sway than any other time including today. Yep, the people you bullied and maimed were running shit, making laws and all. Unfortunately, petty white jealousy - and stiff competition - led to anger, fear, and finally brute violence via the cowards in white sheets and burning crosses. Those sheets were shredded by the Black Panthers (see how quickly California Gov. Ronald Reagan passed the Mulford Act) which gave rise to the bigots in business suits, also today's GOP.

Lesson: when black people (including this blogger) stand up to exercise our voices and flex our muscles, expect pushback. The truth is too harsh for some people to take, as their day is coming.
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Eff Yo' Hookup

You would think the GOP would use history as a reminder of what NOT to do more than clawing through Hillary’s emails to find out what she may or may not have known about Benghazi.

Wrong.

The purveyors of domestic terrorism in policy and over policing subsequent harassment throughout black America wonder why their party continues to lose national contests. Outreach won’t happen if you’re busy denigrating potential constituents who do not live in your homogenous world.



At this pace, the party of ex-Klan members and not-so-closeted racists will become a southern white male phenomenon.

Back in 2012, Mitt Romney told a group of donors after receiving an unfriendly welcome at an NAACP convention “I hope people understand this, your friends who like Obamacare, you remind them of this:  if they want more free stuff from the government tell them to go vote for the other guy – more free stuff.” Five months later he doubled down on the same sentiment, claiming President Obama won because he bribed minority voters with “big gifts” such as health care and education.

This is the same Mitt Romney who once upon a time as Massachusetts governor created the framework for PPACA in 2002. We all know how his successor former Gov. Deval Patrick cleaned that one and many other messes up.

Guess what? Jeb Bush didn’t get the memo. Generally, white men born into privilege (silver spoon, starting life on third base in a clean uniform while thinking he actually hit a triple) think they actually “earned” something. As a result, they deride the less fortunate of us who actually put in the work. They – and Donald Trump – fail to realize that by pandering to the base, the educated voters are more apt not to endorse their candidacies even if some aspects of their platforms are palatable.

Besides, I know there is no such thing as a free lunch. America was largely built on the backs and breasts of black men and women. Let that sink in for a minute.

The people who have had to fight are those who tend to be the most articulate when presenting our arguments. Perhaps this is why conservatives are so angry every single time President Obama uses historical precedence to justify the passage of laws, particularly the Commerce Act to defend the PPACA and Loving v. Virginia when gay marriage was legalized throughout the United States. In real time, reread my blog posting Black Skin,Blue Water to see further proof of how and when we fight back.

Allow me to debunk “free stuff.”

When our racist Lt. Governor Tim Griffin (R-Arkansas) tried to do away with the ‘Obama phones’, he was trying to nix a program established by white people’s patron saint Ronald Reagan and expanded by George W. Bush to include cell phones in 2007. That piece of legislation gained traction when Obama’s face was placed as the one who was “giving away free stuff.”

What about food stamps and welfare benefits? The War on Drugs that y’all lost?



Another Reagan mischaracterization is the welfare queen peddling a Cadillac, living in Section 8 housing, and collecting food stamps. Ask any honest caseworker at the county DHS office who the majority of callers are and complaints come from if food stamps are reduced or even one day late. Hint:  it’s not black women.

As for the War on Drugs, the government has already proven itself complicit in locking up people of color for long terms over marijuana and crack yet slap meth and cocaine users (and sellers) on the wrist.

Am I stepping on toes? Good. I’m not done yet.


If this is what you call offering hope and aspiration, fuck your hookup.

If shuckin’ and jivin’ for the proverbial big piece of chicken is the way to gain entry to the table, fuck your hookup.

I’m not even going into the no-bid Halliburton and Blackwater contracts from the last War in Iraq or how quickly some companies were handpicked to clean up New Orleans post-Katrina in an attempt to whitewash the city – or in other words, turn it into Benton.

To a fair amount of you, I’m just another colored with an extremely broad vocabulary who understands the power of persuasion and a master of dispelling talking points.

Keep in mind the most dangerous man in America is an educated black man.



Y’all look like petulant kids that rather than share, you get pissed-off and take your toys home.

Fuck your hookup – especially if that little bit is the best you’ve got.


You sound more tone deaf than I give you credit for, and this is counterproductive. 
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Friday, September 18, 2015

God's Gift To Us

Dedicate \ded-i-kat\ (verb) 1. To devote to the worship of a divine being especially sacred rites; 2. To set apart for a definite purpose; 3. To inscribe or address as a compliment – dedication \ded-i-ka-shen\

 We’ve all heard and even used the saying “God’s gift to _______” to invoke a supremacy of an individual or entity via a proven skill, ability, or possession. In our human eyes, no one can do it better than the person who is the recipient of this compliment. While it may seem flattering at the time, one must consider that he or she is a gift from God regardless of the role religion or spirituality plays in our lives. For example, as a younger man I made the erroneous mistake of thinking that I was God’s gift to women; it should’ve been obvious that mackkin’ was clearly not a strength. Ditto for my so-called athletic prowess – who would want a 5’9”, 140-pound power forward to play basketball above any level than the recreation leagues which after paying player fees, I would not have been guaranteed playing time? We all have been gifted a talent – or opportunity, if you may – to be the best we can possibly be. How we use it determines if the next door opens or closes, or simply stays cracked with a rock holding it open for a limited time.

Since February 13 Caeli Elise has been God’s gift to Chastity and me. We’ll officially dedicate her to Him on October 18.

What is a dedication ceremony? Where in the Bible can I find it?
Book, Bible, Old, Antique, Pages
An infant dedication is a ceremony in which Christian parents make a commitment to raise their child according to God’s will and train their child to follow Christ. They take responsibility in the baby’s spiritual upbringing until the child is able to make her own decisions of faith. Done publicly in front of a church body, baby dedications are performed in place of infant baptisms – and without the use of water.

In the Bible, the most commonly cited examples are in 1 Samuel 1:27-28 when Hannah dedicates her son Samuel to the Lord after God answers her prayers for a child. Joseph and Mary also bring Jesus to the Temple for this service in Luke 2:21-22.

We aim to raise Caeli the right way and fully acknowledge that her faith decision is ultimately hers when that time comes. Her dedication – as with any other baby or infant – commits the church’s resources into raising her. As everyone who has read the Dad Chronicles knows, it indeed takes a village to raise a child. As her parents, Chastity and I must note that she is God’s gift to us and that this public ceremony serves as a launch pad for a life guided by God’s will; from that moment forward, the work really begins.

#CAELISTRONG 

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The Smartest Guy In the Room

Is it possible to be too smart for our own good?
Nerd, Emoticon, Eyeglasses, Smart
Perhaps.

Growing up, I was generally known as the smart one above anything else. While it looked good on resumes, job applications, and in the classroom, being the smart one (for me, anyway – I cannot recall others’ experiences) did not always translate to success. It only took several years to discover that intelligence or book smarts do not substitute for good judgment along with a few bumps along the way reminding me that pride does come before the downfall. Moreover, I have missed out on numerous opportunities by being the smartest guy in the room. I honestly did not know to which extent interviewers – and employers – find themselves intimidated by smart people. They say they want smart people, but dislike the questions asked; for me, I need to know the why of a process. “Because I said so” may be a valid reason for children, but not smart adults who ask the right questions.

Most of you know I spent nearly half my adult life working for Wal-Mart, and in my final three years with the retail giant, I felt that intelligence was more of a deterrent than an asset – or this is how store management treated me. As long as I could quickly sling dog food onto shelves and pallets plus build at least two features weekly, what I thought of or about was immaterial. (Retail speak:  Features are the items found on the ends of aisles, typically advertised in weekly circulars). In that instance, my education and intelligence did not matter, as I was another peon on the flowchart, easily replaceable.

What is the smartest guy in the room faced with?

Jealousy. I’m hated for being right.

When people are proven wrong regarding their misguided ideas, I have discovered that people personally criticize me for being right rather than for own inaccuracies. Sometimes, I just know more about a person than he does about himself and the messages conveyed are perfectly clear. No one ever looks back in retrospect and admits he is wrong even after the facts prove it. One prime example is former Vice President Dick Cheney on his hawkish approach toward Iran and Iraq for WMDs.

What else is the smartest guy in the room prone to?

Depression.
Depressed, Man, Back, Blue, Muscular
Being aware of the surrounding world and possessing a heightened thought process gets me down occasionally. People just don’t see what I see – or in fairly recent blog postings, do not wish to see what I see. Research shows a direct correlation not between depression and intelligence rather bipolar disorder and intelligence. Creativity combined with intelligence is a contributing factor in mental illness. This means that those ideas that run one hundred miles per hour in my mind are churning away like a hamster on a wheel sometimes with no definite place to exit.

What do I detest most about being the smartest guy in the room?

Those “smartest guy in the room” posts recommending I need new friends. Why imply that I am too bright for the people I have chosen to associate myself with? Maybe we have common ground in other arenas, such as being decent basketball players, bibliophiles or fans of pop culture. Saying I need new friends states that my crew (quality dudes, I might add) isn’t good enough for me. What am I supposed to do, stay at home and stare at four walls as life passes me by? I specifically remember the words “you’re not like us” uttered to me some twenty years ago (I won’t say who, but I heard it from multiple people) as if being smart was an automatic ticket to the back of the line or nerd table. That kind of pressure back then was akin to being shipwrecked on a lonely island with one palm tree surrounded by salt water.

The implication that I know everything – which clearly I do not - does little to welcome or encourage debate.

Is there a tragedy in being the smartest guy in the room?

In one word, yes.

As you’ve already surmised, I was the guy who was told he could do anything and be great without really trying:  I was accepted and graduated from a very good yet underrated university, managed to juggle a fulltime job with both a heavy class load and fraternity obligations, landed a good job in my hometown, and presently write a very interesting blog. Now that I spend twelve hours of each night managing the control room, do those A's from Logic and Argument and Technical Writing pay my bills?

Hence, the wasted intelligence means that I am overqualified.

Perhaps I am a bit aloof at work. I don’t need to be terribly affable to do a job well, just efficient.

Aside from AD&AD, those smarts aren’t exactly necessary to lead organizations. Think about the all-stars we work for; most of them aren’t really that smart. Our bosses just want smart people working for them. That’s another reason why I feel grossly underappreciated.
Burnout, Eistungsdruck, Depression
Maybe in this instance I am too smart for my own good.



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The Battle The South Won

Wanna know which battle the South did win after all?

Hint:  We already dominate the rest of America when it comes to food, beautiful women, college football, and outward religious displays of piety.

Thirteen (or fourteen, depending on how Oklahoma is classified in your mind) states tend to steer the dialogue of where the United States has come from and where its perceived future lies. Those thirteen states:  Arkansas, Florida, Texas, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, North and South Carolina, Kentucky, Virginia, and Missouri – and it’s not always a social issue.

Which battle did the South win?

Labor.

States with right-to-work laws shaded in green. (Map via Wikipedia.)
The states in green are considered right-to-work states. 
Being a native Arkansan who has spent several years working for the world’s largest private retailer, I know all too well what right-to-work laws look, sound, and feel like. Just thinking of the word union in some cases has caused people to whisper in hushed tones in fear of retribution not solely limited to verbal and written reprimands:  people have lost their jobs for voicing concerns for the working class. While higher wages for a fair day’s work tend to permeate the news cycle as an acknowledgment toward fulfilling the good vs. evil narrative, it is not always about the Benjamins.

What are right-to-work laws and “at-will” employment, you wonder?

Right-to-work laws allow nonunion employees to benefit from union contracts. This means everyone in a company gets the same benefits (i.e. health insurance and pensions) that a few have vigorously fought for if they choose to join the local union or decline its membership. At-will employment is a status that allows the termination of your employment for any time and for any reason. This policy protects employers, not employees by allowing them the freedom to fire you for reasons of their own without fear of legal action. In other words, you can work thirty years at a job as a strong performer and unceremoniously be canned one day because you may be half an hour late for the start of a shift.

Still don’t understand?

Right-to-work (in theory) implies that every employee is equal regardless of professional status or rank. Of course, we still have supervisors, managers, executives, and shareholders who represent the separation between the peon and the big dog due to education, social connections, or work experiences within the industry. Sadly, right-to-work today resembles this scenario:
I work 80+ hours weekly at poverty wages and haven’t received a raise in three years yet am blamed for rising prices at work. If I can make $20/hour somewhere else, what is in it for me to stay here for $9.50/hour to do the same job?

Employers want to pay peanuts for top-notch labor. The South was more successful at it than the North.
We're all looking for work. Hire us, please. 
When Arkansas became the first state to pass right-to-work legislation in 1944, it was done by equating union growth with integration and communism. Nothing seemed more dangerous to certain business owners and the political class than a skilled black man or woman who could call his or her price – and get it over a white male bidding for the same job. Right-to-work stifles that because it stifles wages and development, limits job opportunities, and ultimately drives a wedge between working-class people, provoking many of them to vote against their own interests. As a result, the people who share the most in common are the most deeply divided and often the biggest losers.

Keep ‘em dumb, work the shit outta ‘em for free:  that’s the real Southern political class strategy.
With the nationwide proliferation of right-to-work into traditional union strongholds such as Michigan and Ohio, the South is winning one key battle:  labor. The rich get richer, and the poor work until we drop. Our political pimps bend over for companies to pleasure themselves for a quick buck with little regard for perpetuating a modern-day slavery by offering cheap, plentiful labor and low taxes, if any are to be paid.

Just follow the money – and rhetoric spewed by all nineteen candidates for President of the United States.

The South did win the battle of labor. We’ve been paying for it since the end of the Civil War.

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I Took A Month Off From Blogging and No One Really Cared. Cool With Me.

Let’s face it. I’m tired.

For all that 2015 has thrown at me, I’m still here – and sober. I’ve blogged my way through the year and in a vainglorious attempt to reach 200 posts by Christmas, I ran out of stuff to write about. Writing all 21 chapters of the Dad Chronicles was initially a four- or five-post deal; as the days became weeks and the weeks transformed into months, I found myself writing every step of the journey in the NICU and garnered a loyal following. It’s not like I was asked for an update on Caeli every day, but the weekly posts allowed my truly bare feelings to expose themselves in a naked form. Some of you received text messages and others, I messenged periodically. Beyond that and running back and forth to UAMS and ACH for 146 days from work to see our daughter fight first for her life and second be that rock for my wife a la the Chevrolet pickup commercials from the early ‘90s. You know, the ones which Bob Seger is singing “Like A Rock”. Nonetheless, 2015 has been a long year.

I wrote a boatload of posts with varying topics primarily to keep the stresses outside. I also have to say 2015 has been a newsworthy year, but not without controversy. Thank the media for not entirely investigating matters of political, social, racial, religious, educational or fiscal importance objectively.

I somehow took a month off from blogging and no one cared.

I guess I’m returning to anonymity after all. My wife and daughter appreciate the privacy.

When I say somewhat, it’s not like I haven’t completely surrendered my pen or my own thinking; I would just write to pass the time and occasionally engage in Twitter debates to sharpen my literary wit and sometimes even expand my sphere of thought. Also, I haven’t had a legitimate vacation this year, so the hiatus has been sorely needed. I suppose I could take a week off from work later this year, as my employer provides a generous paid time off policy after a few years’ service.

This could be us, but you’re playing.

 What have I missed this month?

We thrive on other people’s hard luck, be it accidental or self-inflicted. See the recent fallout from the Ashley Madison hack that exposed millions of families to adultery as well as child molestation allegations from Josh Duggar, threats from State Senator Jason Rapert (R-Bigelow), and eventual guilty plea from the onetime Subway spokesman Jared Fogle. I can even cause a ruckus, as evidenced by #DearWhitePeople earlier this month – one of seven blogs from a supposed blogging block break.


Hopefully I’ve become a better husband to my wife as I’ve gotten to know my daughter, a more efficient employee, a better family member, neighbor, and friend, and a more effective church member and leader.

I took a month off from blogging and no one cried. Instead, I took a trip to my literary Planet Lovetron and returned refreshed.




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