I had never met her. So needless to say, she had never done anything to me. But years ago, I remember that I just did not like Gabrielle Union. There was nothing rational about the scorn. But I felt like I was justified in harboring it. If anyone ever asked me about it, I would make up something. "I don't like her nose." "I hate the way she talks". "She thinks she's all that". I would say anything that came to mind. One day, I found myself watching The Brothers alone for the first time. It wasn't that typical watch party I would have with my girls as we high-fived each other on how fine the men were and how we couldn't stand Gabrielle's "bony ass", as we so affectionately called her. It was a regular TK Day where I just sat around and watched movies to entertain myself. I was watching the scene where she was lying on the couch with her head in Morris Chestnut's lap. After I got past hating because she was so close to such a beautiful specimen, I looked at her. I mean, I REALLY looked at her. The way she had her hair pushed back from her face and even though I know she had on movie makeup, there was nothing glamorous about her in that scene. She looked like a regular person. She looked like someone who, if I really tried, I could call a friend. That shook me because I had spent so much time spewing venom at the screen when I saw her in a movie. I wasn't supposed to like her. I mean not even for a second. I flipped off my TV and like a kid waking up from a bad dream, I sat up in my bed hugging my knees and rocking back and forth for a moment. Because I am someone who always wants to explain my feelings to myself, I had to figure out exactly why I hated her. So, I turned on my computer and Googled her. First, I looked at pictures. I talked to myself the whole time. "You said you didn't like her nose. What's wrong with it?" My pride spoke up. "Well, it's...." I shook it off. There was nothing wrong with her nose. Absolutely nothing. My pride spoke up again. "Are her eyes too close together? That has to be it. You always feel weird about people whose eyes are too close together." No. Her eyes were fine too. Still, I felt like I really HAD to find something. I stared. Nothing. So, I found another picture. Stared. Nothing there. Saw one with her smiling. I never noticed that she had dimples before. I wish I had dimples. Shut up, TK. The more I looked, the more I started to notice things. Gabrielle's skin tone and mine were not that different from one another. Since the beginning of time, light skin was what was always known to be beautiful. But here she was, a brown girl, and people loved her. Men found her sexy. I went through some red carpet photos and realized she hadn't "looked stupid as hell" like I said she had when it was live. She was actually very fashionable. I ran across photos from her King Magazine spread (the one that should have REALLY made me hate her) and shocked myself beyond measure. On the cover, she posed innocently in a black bikini and even had that deer-caught-in-headlights look I'm sure we are all guilty of having at some point in our lives. The one with the flower in her hair didn't repulse me the way I initially thought it did and the word "slut" didn't cross my mind anymore when I saw the one of her cat-crawling in just her bottoms. The spread was tastefully done and she looked absolutely gorgeous. I looked back through the other photos. She smiled. And it shined. No matter how much I hated her from my tiny dorm room in Birmingham, Gabrielle Union still smiled. She was not affected one bit by the fact that I found every stupid reason I could not to like her. My feelings had no effect on her at all and there I was, sitting on my bed shuffling through photos like a madwoman trying to prove something to myself. But wait. It had to be in the videos. I went through YouTube video after YouTube video trying to figure out what I didn't like about the way this woman talked. Kristen said "It's like she talks around her teeth." Maybe that was it. Wait. What? What the hell does that even mean? Gabrielle Union was articulate and even in character, rarely ever used colloquialisms. While I was going through the videos, I asked myself the obvious question. Why the hell had I seen so many Gabrielle Union films? The truth about the whole thing was that this woman was amazingly talented and Hollywood knew it. She wasn't just walking onto the set and giving HERSELF the roles. She was getting hired because she was working hard and obviously working well. In the end, I found that there was nothing wrong with Gabrielle Monique Union. She was a beautiful, successful, hardworking brown girl. She was exactly what I should have been striving to be. "TK, you are a stupid, stupid bitch", I heard myself say. I took some time to think about the friends I surrounded myself with who helped me bash this woman. Later, I would let them in on my epiphany and they would answer "I still don't like her". That told me there was something about this beautiful, successful, hardworking brown girl that they never wanted to be. I realized I was on a much different path than they. That caused me to examine them in other situations and realize just hoe little value they added to my life. I became a Gabrielle Union fan and decided that I, too, would become a beautiful, successful, hardworking brown girl.
Fast-forwarding to the 2013 Essence Awards, as though she wasn't already looking gorgeous enough to not have to say a word, Gabrielle Union stunned me. As she accepted her Fierce & Fearless Award, she gave a speech that kicked me in the heart. There were parts of her speech that were funny, but the rest of it was just real beyond belief. She and I felt the EXACT same about reading Huck Finn in class. We both prayed that we didn't run across a "Nigger Jim". We both reveled in the gossip and "took joy in people's pain and tapdanced on their misery". She spoke courageously about her failed marriage and her journey to live her truth. I got teary-eyed when she talked about not wanting to "function in dysfunction and misery" but really wanting to BE happy instead of pretending to be happy. She talked about how easy it was to commit to misery. She said "Real fierce and fearless women are truth-seekers...We stand up and use our voices for something other than self-promotion....Real fierce and fearless women celebrate and compliment other women and we recognize and embrace the notion that their shine in no way diminishes our light and that it actually makes our light shine brighter". I am not ashamed to say that I sat with tears streaming down my face because I was in disbelief that this woman who I had once felt so much contempt for for no good reason at all knew exactly what was on my heart and had been the same type of mean girl that I was. She spoke with dignity about her pitfalls and carried herself with grace. The hardest type of person to be is one that learns from experience. It is always so easy to drown out the lessons with blame. But there she was in front of everyone telling us exactly what she had learned. I stood and cheered louder than probably anyone in that room when she left the stage. I learned that it was possible for someone who had experienced some of the same painful things I had to come out on the other side of it with a smile and that the only shame should come in not sharing what you've learned.
As if that speech wasn't enough, Gabby (I can call her that since we are friends in my had now), was cast to play Mary Jane Paul in Being Mary Jane, a brainchild of my SHEro Mara Brock Akil and Salim Akil. When I would talk to my friends about our positions in love and life, I would always compare us to beautiful houses with broken furniture. We are all the inspiration behind the piece I posted on this blog called "The Truth About Women". But in Being Mary Jane, I get to watch the story of one of those beautiful houses unfold without having to sustain any more damage in the process. First of all, my girl is a broadcast journalist who is at the top of the game. That does something for me because even as I still try to break into the world of print journalism, I still have people trying to talk me into broadcast. I have not yet conquered my horror of seeing myself on camera. But because on TalkBack, MJ says a lot of what I would say, I get to live through her. But looking further at the character, on the surface, she appears to have it all together. She stops at nothing to be there for her friends and her family. She gives very little care to her own real happiness, but takes extra care to LOOK happy on the surface. She has bad luck in love, not the best luck with friends sometimes and even though she is driven by her career, at the end of the day all she wants is a man who is truly hers to lover her and maybe a few hardheaded kids to yell "No", "Don't" and "Stop it" at when she comes home. As I watch Mary Jane go through things, some parts feel as though I am watching a demo reel of the movie of my own life. And the fact that sometimes she doesn't do what is right or smart or may make her parents proud lets me know that my mistakes are okay and that sometimes it does take more than one time for your heart to break before you really start to hear it crack. She may not have gotten the role in Scandal. But I, for one, am grateful because I really don't think anyone else could have brought this home for me the way Gabrielle does.
Just as all public relationships do, Gabrielle's relationship with Dwayne Wade has come under scrutiny too. From people calling her a homewrecker to singing their "I wouldn't" and "I can't believe she" songs when the world found out about Dwayne's youngest son. I will admit to initially looking a little wide-eyed at the fact that there was a young baby in the midst with another woman soon after Gabby and D.Wade announced their engagement. But I had to step back for a moment and let something my sister Kenisha said echo in my head. "I don't judge the dynamics of any relationship because I will never know what it takes to love that man". I thought to myself, 'This woman has shown her strength. She has shown her intelligence. She has shown her courage. And she has shown, above all, that she is not a damned fool. If she knows about this baby and has seen fit to still become Mrs. Dwayne Wade, then there has to be a whole helluva lot that we don't know. And the fact that we don't know says it is none of our business'. I love that they are in love. I love that they have fun together and despite how it looks to outsiders, I love the fact that she, his two older boys, the nephew he has adopted and the new baby are going to be a family. I hope she continues to walk so far in the opposite direction of the naysayers that their voices become faint whispers. I hope she has truly found the happiness she has always wanted.
To this day, the only real reason I found that I hated Gabrielle Union was because she was out there doing what I couldn't and doing what I dared. But by looking closer at the reasons I disliked her, I got to look deeper at and get to know myself. I got to finally become a beautiful, successful, hardworking brown girl. And I made a promise to myself to not stop chasing my dreams until this heart of mine gives out. Thank you Gabby for showing me that I can be fierce and fearless too.
TK
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
What Will We Tell Our Children (My Catharsis)?
My nephew's name is Jalen. He's 16 years old. Just like any 16-year-old, he likes hanging out with his friends and is looking forward to getting his driver's license. He likes skateboarding and his favorite season is summer. There's something special about my nephew though. He is actually quite the little rapper and producer. He is creative and could give a lot of up and coming emcees a run for their money. Just like he is anxious to get that driver's license, he is excited that one day he may be able to settle into the driver's seat, turn on the radio and hear his own music come through the speakers. And since he loves summer so much, he will surely love those summers when he can scoop up a few of his friends and drive to the mall with the windows down and the sun on his face. My nephew is like any 16-year-old, right? But what if I told you he is different simply because he is Black?
Thoughts of Jalen, his little brother Jordan, my own brothers, cousins and future sons weighed heavily on my mind as the verdict was read in what has been deemed "The Loud Music Murder Trial". On trial, was Micheal Dunn, the 47-year-old accused of killing 17-year-old Jordan Davis at a Jacksonville, Florida gas station on November 23, 2012. On this day, Dunn pulled up next to an SUV filled with Jordan Davis and his friends. The teens were blasting loud rap music and Dunn voiced his aversion. Davis and Dunn exchanged words and Dunn opened fire on the vehicle, leaving Davis dead. Dunn stated that the reason for opening fire was that he saw a gun in the vehicle and felt threatened. Police searched the vehicle. The teenagers were unarmed. On Saturday, February 15th, the eve of Jordan Davis' 19th birthday, a jury found Michael Dunn guilty of three counts of attempted second-degree murder for the shots fired at the other three teens in the vehicle. On the first count, first-degree murder, a mistrial was declared.
I did take to Twitter to express a bit of what I felt about this case. But there is only so much I can do in 140 characters. It was very difficult not to think of Trayvon Martin and his family during this trial. These cases occurred so close to each other and so many elements overlapped. I am the last one to pull the race card. But I have to call it out if it shows up in the game. So, even though the cases are both just about two children who are gone too soon, the subject of race is at the forefront and it is a fact that cannot be denied. Here you have two young Black boys who are deceased by the actions of two non-Black individuals whom the courts have not seen fit to pay for taking their lives. Both were unarmed. Both were exhibiting behavior only indicative if the fact that they were teenagers. (As @ItsRamel said "Trayvon Martin was followed. Jordan Davis was approached. Seems to me Florida needs a "Mind Your Business" law.) And no matter what either of them might have said to the grown men who shot them, they were unarmed and if the adults had retreated (as Zimmerman was instructed to), both boys would have escaped with their lives. Neither adult would have been in a situation where they "thought they saw a weapon" or had to "fight for his life" if they had just minded their own business. But there are so many layers to this.
Dunn said that when he pulled up to the vehicle, Davis and his friends were playing that "thug music" or "rap crap". In a letter to his girlfriend from prison, he stated, “I just got off the phone with you and we were talking about how racist the blacks are up here. The more time I am exposed to these people, the more prejudiced against them I become.” Then as though that side of his neck hadn't done enough talking, from the other side, he let spew “I’m not really prejudiced against race, but I have no use for certain cultures. This gangster-rap, ghetto talking thug ‘culture’ that certain segments of society flock to is intolerable" and said that Davis and his friends should "“take the hint and change their behavior.” The first comment pretty much speaks for itself. So, let's move on to the second. To say that he is "not really prejudiced against race" is already a folly. This indicates that the prejudice he spoke about in the previous statement is evident. Then to say that you have no "use" for "certain cultures" dehumanizes them. It makes them objects that are only here for your amusement or gain. It may not be all that far-fetched to liken that to slavery. It may very well be a news flash, but you should not be granted the right to eliminate those that you feel you have "no use for". And the fact that he changes the word "race" from the first half of his statement to "cultures" in the second half was a nice try, but I am unmoved. And Mr. Dunn, like it or not, the "gangster-rap, ghetto talking thug ‘culture’" of which you speak is a part of MY culture and it is a part of MY culture that many people who lay claim to YOUR culture have tried to adapt for years. You cannot talk about MY people without rap music coming up. And you cannot talk about rap music without talking about the way it has been embraced by White people. So, YOUR people are included in the "certain segments of society". The fact that this letter and at least one other one was written, gives you a little insight to the type of individual Michael Dunn is. To look more carefully at the situation, Dunn was not committing any crime by pulling up next to the SUV at the gas station. But on that day, no one else at the gas station said anything to the teens about the volume of their music. Yet Dunn saw this as his duty. If he did not intend to kill but just HAD to fire his gun, why couldn't he fire one warning shot in the air? It is true that the bullet could have possibly come down and hit someone. But that would have made it more believable that he did not have the intent to kill. (And he would not likely have to go through half of what Marissa Alexander had to.) Then after the incident he did not call the police, but returned to his hotel room, ordered pizza, slept and drove two-and-a-half hours home the next morning. Had this been an act of self-defense as Dunn claimed, he would have called the police to report the incident in which he claimed to have feared for his life. (By the way, no witnesses reported seeing anything that resembled a gun in the vehicle and Dunn's own fiance said she was never told that Davis was armed.) He showed no concern for the fact that he could possible have ended four young lives. He was prepared to go on with his life as though nothing happened.
Just as George Zimmerman, Dunn was protected by Florida's "Stand Your Ground" law. This is a law that I am henceforth calling "The Mirage Law". I am calling it this because under this law, the suspect does not have to actually see a weapon. He only has to believe or be convinced of the fact that the weapon was present.Therefore, the entire case becomes based on the suspect's imagination and all about what he thought he saw. And who in their right mind would not say that they THOUGHT their life was in danger when faced with the certainty of spending the rest of it in jail? Why it is that everyone in the state of Florida does not see the absurdity of this law is beyond me. Regardless to what lies in the remainder of this law's language, it is flawed at the very core. After all, it is the argument of the presence of the mirage that has saved George Zimmerman and at least for the moment, Michael Dunn. But I ask the question, who is the man that relishes in the comfort of his own home to tell the man who crawls in the desert that the oasis he sees is not what he really sees? No matter how much evidence we present to the contrary, there will never be a valid argument to tell Dunn and Zimmerman they did not see what they have told the world they saw. So, did we really ever tell the people hoping for justice that this was a case they could really win? Even though the first count will be retried, what we have is a man who has been convicted of the murders he ATTEMPTED and has received no punishment at all for the fact that there is a teenager who is dead because of an older man who played God and decided it was his time to go. The fact of the matter is, Jordan Davis, an unarmed teenager now ceases to exist because Michael Dunn fired shots into a vehicle and took his life. These are the facts, yet this is what goes unpunished. This says that if Jordan Davis had been alone in the vehicle, Dunn would not even be receiving the current 75 year sentence (each count carries 20 years and the last, an extra 15 years). Had his friends not been there, Dunn would walk free just as Zimmerman is.
Though in the past, it has been a fleeting insult, let's talk about the word "thug" for a moment. As my eloquent and intelligent fraternity brother Richard Sherman pointed out as 'Merica reacted to his passionate post-game speech as he was on his way to the Super Bowl, it is almost as though "thug" is the new, I'll say it, "nigger" nowadays. Case and point, Richard Sherman was born and raised in a city that is notorious for violence and mortality.But he managed to grow up, never join a gang, graduate high school with a 4.1 GPA, go on to attend and graduate from the prestigious Stanford University, become a mentor to our youth and to become a Super Bowl winner. And might I add that this man has never once been in trouble with the law? So, why is it that this young man is labeled a "thug" whereas Justin Bieber, who has been caught vandalizing a neighbor's home, is known to grown his own stash of marijuana, has racked up speeding tickets while drunk and under the influence of drugs and alcohol, been photographed joining his friend in a good ol' tit lick on a stripper, assaulted paparazzi and been seen peeing in a bucket at a club while yelling "Fuck Bill Clinton" seen as just a "misguided" teen? How exactly is it that Sherman becomes a thug by making a passionate, non-violent speech about his competition that lasted a little over two minutes when the recklessness that The Biebs has shown over the course of the last few months gets him classified as a misguided youth?
For reasons other than the fact that I have young Black nephews, young Black cousins, young Black brothers, young Black friends and regardless of the nationality of my future husband, will have sons that are at least half Black, these cases are sensitive subjects for me. The first reason is the fact that my best friend Samantha and I are of obviously different races, but she and I have grown up as closely as any sisters I know. She and I have always made it a point to discuss current events. And since we have been blessed with the souls at HLN, she and I have an even more awesome way in which we stay connected to these things. Cases like this pull us out of our world in which we never have to see race when it comes to the way we are treated by each other's families and were never at any point told that we could not be friends because of our skin colors. It lets us see that racism is very real and every now and then it is going to hit us in the faces. Because cases like this are the truth, not discussing them is not an option. I hear the pain in Sam's voice when something like this happens. And because of the fact that the men who committed these crimes look more like her than me, it is only natural for her to want to apologize on behalf of the entire race. She both realizes and respects my anger on the situations. But I know that she would like nothing more than to travel to that point in time and make it not happen, not because of the racial element but because of the fact that she has a kind heart that does not see color and hates that innocent lives were taken. She is just as angry as I am, but while we carry the same torches, she knows that there are extra embers that burn in my pockets, the pains of which, she can never know. The second reason cases like this are so sensitive is that I am an aspiring media mogul and the subject of race is often one that cannot be at the forefront of discussion. While I am not a lawyer, I do believe it is my duty to know a bit about the laws that affect the things I state my opinion on. The fact of the matter is, sometimes you have to just talk about the law and you cannot talk about the black and white elephant in the room. I felt the internal tears from Don Lemon and Sunny Hostin this weekend as they had to stick to the issues, but at the same time, had to speak on the issue as a Black woman and a Black man who had experienced racial injustices. In their voices, I heard trembles of anger and all the pains carried to picket lines that were formed to fight such things.As they told of their own struggles and as Sunny Hostin said "Justice took the day off", I could hear the question of why and the wrestling match with how to explain this to her sons. Don even said a few times, "I am going to say something I probably shouldn't say on television" but as he charged on, I heard, 'You know what? WHY shouldn't I be allowed to say these things? They are the things that need to be said.' Just as I am sure the two of them do, I work along side those of other races daily and not until someone throws it in my face do I focus on the color of my skin. But when you can find no other explanation for the differences in the way people are treated, what do you do? As I stated on Twitter "We are not angry at White people. Our anger is at the system that reminds us daily that the Constitution does not apply to us". So, while we are not walking around with pitchforks, we are angry and we have every right to be.
So if you, like guy on Twitter who actually happened to be a Marine (which after I saw the racist statements and his retweets calling President Obama a "piece of shit", I understood his position and am even more glad that I don't respond to ignorance with ignorance), want to argue that justice has been done, I beg of you to please tell me how. How is it that I should tell my nephews, cousins and my future sons that they could be killed if they are wearing a hoodie while walking home from a convenient store? How should I tell them that they may not make it to see their 18th birthdays and that the American justice system will not care? How should I break it to them that they can be killed if they play their music loudly? How can I tell them that trip to the gas station will likely be their last? How can I tell them that the people who do these things to them will sit in court and hear their children cry but that their own parents can cry as much as they like, but they will never again see the light of day? How can I tell them that because their skin is a dark cloak they can never remove and the blood of Mother Africa runs through their veins, they have received a death sentence before their lives can begin? If you can tell me a way to have that conversation with them and to give them logical answers to the questions that follow, maybe I will believe justice has been served. But until then......
TK
Thoughts of Jalen, his little brother Jordan, my own brothers, cousins and future sons weighed heavily on my mind as the verdict was read in what has been deemed "The Loud Music Murder Trial". On trial, was Micheal Dunn, the 47-year-old accused of killing 17-year-old Jordan Davis at a Jacksonville, Florida gas station on November 23, 2012. On this day, Dunn pulled up next to an SUV filled with Jordan Davis and his friends. The teens were blasting loud rap music and Dunn voiced his aversion. Davis and Dunn exchanged words and Dunn opened fire on the vehicle, leaving Davis dead. Dunn stated that the reason for opening fire was that he saw a gun in the vehicle and felt threatened. Police searched the vehicle. The teenagers were unarmed. On Saturday, February 15th, the eve of Jordan Davis' 19th birthday, a jury found Michael Dunn guilty of three counts of attempted second-degree murder for the shots fired at the other three teens in the vehicle. On the first count, first-degree murder, a mistrial was declared.
I did take to Twitter to express a bit of what I felt about this case. But there is only so much I can do in 140 characters. It was very difficult not to think of Trayvon Martin and his family during this trial. These cases occurred so close to each other and so many elements overlapped. I am the last one to pull the race card. But I have to call it out if it shows up in the game. So, even though the cases are both just about two children who are gone too soon, the subject of race is at the forefront and it is a fact that cannot be denied. Here you have two young Black boys who are deceased by the actions of two non-Black individuals whom the courts have not seen fit to pay for taking their lives. Both were unarmed. Both were exhibiting behavior only indicative if the fact that they were teenagers. (As @ItsRamel said "Trayvon Martin was followed. Jordan Davis was approached. Seems to me Florida needs a "Mind Your Business" law.) And no matter what either of them might have said to the grown men who shot them, they were unarmed and if the adults had retreated (as Zimmerman was instructed to), both boys would have escaped with their lives. Neither adult would have been in a situation where they "thought they saw a weapon" or had to "fight for his life" if they had just minded their own business. But there are so many layers to this.
Dunn said that when he pulled up to the vehicle, Davis and his friends were playing that "thug music" or "rap crap". In a letter to his girlfriend from prison, he stated, “I just got off the phone with you and we were talking about how racist the blacks are up here. The more time I am exposed to these people, the more prejudiced against them I become.” Then as though that side of his neck hadn't done enough talking, from the other side, he let spew “I’m not really prejudiced against race, but I have no use for certain cultures. This gangster-rap, ghetto talking thug ‘culture’ that certain segments of society flock to is intolerable" and said that Davis and his friends should "“take the hint and change their behavior.” The first comment pretty much speaks for itself. So, let's move on to the second. To say that he is "not really prejudiced against race" is already a folly. This indicates that the prejudice he spoke about in the previous statement is evident. Then to say that you have no "use" for "certain cultures" dehumanizes them. It makes them objects that are only here for your amusement or gain. It may not be all that far-fetched to liken that to slavery. It may very well be a news flash, but you should not be granted the right to eliminate those that you feel you have "no use for". And the fact that he changes the word "race" from the first half of his statement to "cultures" in the second half was a nice try, but I am unmoved. And Mr. Dunn, like it or not, the "gangster-rap, ghetto talking thug ‘culture’" of which you speak is a part of MY culture and it is a part of MY culture that many people who lay claim to YOUR culture have tried to adapt for years. You cannot talk about MY people without rap music coming up. And you cannot talk about rap music without talking about the way it has been embraced by White people. So, YOUR people are included in the "certain segments of society". The fact that this letter and at least one other one was written, gives you a little insight to the type of individual Michael Dunn is. To look more carefully at the situation, Dunn was not committing any crime by pulling up next to the SUV at the gas station. But on that day, no one else at the gas station said anything to the teens about the volume of their music. Yet Dunn saw this as his duty. If he did not intend to kill but just HAD to fire his gun, why couldn't he fire one warning shot in the air? It is true that the bullet could have possibly come down and hit someone. But that would have made it more believable that he did not have the intent to kill. (And he would not likely have to go through half of what Marissa Alexander had to.) Then after the incident he did not call the police, but returned to his hotel room, ordered pizza, slept and drove two-and-a-half hours home the next morning. Had this been an act of self-defense as Dunn claimed, he would have called the police to report the incident in which he claimed to have feared for his life. (By the way, no witnesses reported seeing anything that resembled a gun in the vehicle and Dunn's own fiance said she was never told that Davis was armed.) He showed no concern for the fact that he could possible have ended four young lives. He was prepared to go on with his life as though nothing happened.
Just as George Zimmerman, Dunn was protected by Florida's "Stand Your Ground" law. This is a law that I am henceforth calling "The Mirage Law". I am calling it this because under this law, the suspect does not have to actually see a weapon. He only has to believe or be convinced of the fact that the weapon was present.Therefore, the entire case becomes based on the suspect's imagination and all about what he thought he saw. And who in their right mind would not say that they THOUGHT their life was in danger when faced with the certainty of spending the rest of it in jail? Why it is that everyone in the state of Florida does not see the absurdity of this law is beyond me. Regardless to what lies in the remainder of this law's language, it is flawed at the very core. After all, it is the argument of the presence of the mirage that has saved George Zimmerman and at least for the moment, Michael Dunn. But I ask the question, who is the man that relishes in the comfort of his own home to tell the man who crawls in the desert that the oasis he sees is not what he really sees? No matter how much evidence we present to the contrary, there will never be a valid argument to tell Dunn and Zimmerman they did not see what they have told the world they saw. So, did we really ever tell the people hoping for justice that this was a case they could really win? Even though the first count will be retried, what we have is a man who has been convicted of the murders he ATTEMPTED and has received no punishment at all for the fact that there is a teenager who is dead because of an older man who played God and decided it was his time to go. The fact of the matter is, Jordan Davis, an unarmed teenager now ceases to exist because Michael Dunn fired shots into a vehicle and took his life. These are the facts, yet this is what goes unpunished. This says that if Jordan Davis had been alone in the vehicle, Dunn would not even be receiving the current 75 year sentence (each count carries 20 years and the last, an extra 15 years). Had his friends not been there, Dunn would walk free just as Zimmerman is.
Though in the past, it has been a fleeting insult, let's talk about the word "thug" for a moment. As my eloquent and intelligent fraternity brother Richard Sherman pointed out as 'Merica reacted to his passionate post-game speech as he was on his way to the Super Bowl, it is almost as though "thug" is the new, I'll say it, "nigger" nowadays. Case and point, Richard Sherman was born and raised in a city that is notorious for violence and mortality.But he managed to grow up, never join a gang, graduate high school with a 4.1 GPA, go on to attend and graduate from the prestigious Stanford University, become a mentor to our youth and to become a Super Bowl winner. And might I add that this man has never once been in trouble with the law? So, why is it that this young man is labeled a "thug" whereas Justin Bieber, who has been caught vandalizing a neighbor's home, is known to grown his own stash of marijuana, has racked up speeding tickets while drunk and under the influence of drugs and alcohol, been photographed joining his friend in a good ol' tit lick on a stripper, assaulted paparazzi and been seen peeing in a bucket at a club while yelling "Fuck Bill Clinton" seen as just a "misguided" teen? How exactly is it that Sherman becomes a thug by making a passionate, non-violent speech about his competition that lasted a little over two minutes when the recklessness that The Biebs has shown over the course of the last few months gets him classified as a misguided youth?
For reasons other than the fact that I have young Black nephews, young Black cousins, young Black brothers, young Black friends and regardless of the nationality of my future husband, will have sons that are at least half Black, these cases are sensitive subjects for me. The first reason is the fact that my best friend Samantha and I are of obviously different races, but she and I have grown up as closely as any sisters I know. She and I have always made it a point to discuss current events. And since we have been blessed with the souls at HLN, she and I have an even more awesome way in which we stay connected to these things. Cases like this pull us out of our world in which we never have to see race when it comes to the way we are treated by each other's families and were never at any point told that we could not be friends because of our skin colors. It lets us see that racism is very real and every now and then it is going to hit us in the faces. Because cases like this are the truth, not discussing them is not an option. I hear the pain in Sam's voice when something like this happens. And because of the fact that the men who committed these crimes look more like her than me, it is only natural for her to want to apologize on behalf of the entire race. She both realizes and respects my anger on the situations. But I know that she would like nothing more than to travel to that point in time and make it not happen, not because of the racial element but because of the fact that she has a kind heart that does not see color and hates that innocent lives were taken. She is just as angry as I am, but while we carry the same torches, she knows that there are extra embers that burn in my pockets, the pains of which, she can never know. The second reason cases like this are so sensitive is that I am an aspiring media mogul and the subject of race is often one that cannot be at the forefront of discussion. While I am not a lawyer, I do believe it is my duty to know a bit about the laws that affect the things I state my opinion on. The fact of the matter is, sometimes you have to just talk about the law and you cannot talk about the black and white elephant in the room. I felt the internal tears from Don Lemon and Sunny Hostin this weekend as they had to stick to the issues, but at the same time, had to speak on the issue as a Black woman and a Black man who had experienced racial injustices. In their voices, I heard trembles of anger and all the pains carried to picket lines that were formed to fight such things.As they told of their own struggles and as Sunny Hostin said "Justice took the day off", I could hear the question of why and the wrestling match with how to explain this to her sons. Don even said a few times, "I am going to say something I probably shouldn't say on television" but as he charged on, I heard, 'You know what? WHY shouldn't I be allowed to say these things? They are the things that need to be said.' Just as I am sure the two of them do, I work along side those of other races daily and not until someone throws it in my face do I focus on the color of my skin. But when you can find no other explanation for the differences in the way people are treated, what do you do? As I stated on Twitter "We are not angry at White people. Our anger is at the system that reminds us daily that the Constitution does not apply to us". So, while we are not walking around with pitchforks, we are angry and we have every right to be.
So if you, like guy on Twitter who actually happened to be a Marine (which after I saw the racist statements and his retweets calling President Obama a "piece of shit", I understood his position and am even more glad that I don't respond to ignorance with ignorance), want to argue that justice has been done, I beg of you to please tell me how. How is it that I should tell my nephews, cousins and my future sons that they could be killed if they are wearing a hoodie while walking home from a convenient store? How should I tell them that they may not make it to see their 18th birthdays and that the American justice system will not care? How should I break it to them that they can be killed if they play their music loudly? How can I tell them that trip to the gas station will likely be their last? How can I tell them that the people who do these things to them will sit in court and hear their children cry but that their own parents can cry as much as they like, but they will never again see the light of day? How can I tell them that because their skin is a dark cloak they can never remove and the blood of Mother Africa runs through their veins, they have received a death sentence before their lives can begin? If you can tell me a way to have that conversation with them and to give them logical answers to the questions that follow, maybe I will believe justice has been served. But until then......
TK
Thursday, February 13, 2014
The Truth About Women
Many of us are beautiful houses filled with broken furniture. On the outside, we are these majestic structures that stand tall and add character to the streets we stand on. But when you open our doors, you walk in to chairs that are broken for fear that someone may want to stay a while, cracked mirrors for fear of our own pasts and dusty tables because our cupboards are void of the food we should have to nourish ourselves when our souls are hungry. We have been lived in and not taken care of and a new tenant who may very well be worthy is often left to clean up behind the last and bear the burden of their negligence. Our beds have been slept in and there are often times that we thought the ones who have occupied them were doing us a favor by taking on the chore of making them. But we were too blind to see that they made them with dirty sheets and we've inherited bedbugs that will never leave. When we are sad, we turn on our faucets and flood every room we have over someone who isn't really worth a glass of our tears. We fire up our ovens and make meals for those who deserve to choke on their own lies. There are several levels to our staircases and sometimes depending on how pretty the picture looks as someone is climbing them, we may ignore the creaks and loud warning signs that occur beneath their feet. They trek through our family rooms and pay no mind to the pictures on the mantle or how we have strategically left a place for them and their children when we could have easily filled those spaces with more love for ourselves or someone who actually WANTED to be there. We keep the thickest layers of dust on our windows because we are too embarrassed about the condition of our quarters and are leery of those trying to peek through them and place something shiny but of little to no value in our foyers thinking they can "spruce up the place". There have been many so-called "maintenance men" who have come through. But their stucco, putty, rugs and wallpaper only cover the cracks, holes, dents and scratches that happen as a result of quarrels with the ones responsible for our deplorable condition. Our yards are large with lots of potential, but the fact that they have seen no water causes their bruised brown grasses to crawl in every direction to quench their lingering thirsts. When someone leaves, we lock our gates and hope to never have another visitor. When another mansion stands next to us, we slap some paint on our shutters and try to pull ourselves together so that it does not show how diminished our property value has become. Meanwhile, the wails of our hearts echo down the corridors singing a sad and all too familiar song.
TK
TK
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Family Tree
I am Zora’s daughter. She didn’t know it, but she took my soul with her
as she gathered her stories. My ear remained rapt as she taught me
dialect and put a piece of me within Janie. Auntie Alice taught me my burden. She showed me the contrasts
of strong Black women versus
those who are broken and let me know what they were doing to my sisters
in Africa. Great-Aunt Maya showed me that the arch I carry in my back
was not flawed, but “phenomenal” and gave me answers to life’s hard
questions that roll off my tongue like honey and
fly like sweet daggers into the hearts of those who oppress me. My
cousin Sonia came up right behind her and put music in my womanly words
that helped me to dance my way out of oblivion. Auntie Nikki gave me the
chip on my shoulder that let me walk “with the
thugs than the people who are complaining about them”. Uncle Bruce and Cousin Audre
made me a femme fatale by letting me step into the center of the fight
and see the rainbow in all its colors. I could better do this with
tongue Uncle Amiri helped me sharpened when people
set off bombs and placed the blame on others. He taught me the power of
“poems that kill”. Cousin Langston let me run beside him and bask in
the gleam of the river that is me and see the power of my dreams in its
reflections. Uncle Jean taught me that no matter
how bright that reflection, it was what my soul was sewn to that
determined my identity. He helped me to discover that Lost Generation.
Great-Uncles Paul and Claude’s souls smile down on me as I talk about MY
America, find kindred spirits and belt out a poetic love song as
an ode to us as “a smile go flittin' by”. Oh, but Great Aunt Gwendolyn
showed me how to compose myself and bring back the bounce in my step
while hiding the happiness deep within my heart.
“We real cool” she said and gave me back my mystery. It is because my
blood runs strongly this way that I do not hang my head, but raise it and
puff out my chest. I strike fear in hearts one moment, but in the next,
swaddle them like babes to my breast. They have
given me the gift of the precious dichotomy of sweet mother and strict
disciplinarian because they knew I was strong enough to bear it. It is
because of them that I can go from howling hooker to well-rounded wife
through my words and still be respected in the morning.
Our family tree stands strong in its field as the winds of change blow.
We do not apologize for the sway of our branches, but acknowledge how
bountiful the land is just because we are present. We let the earth write
thank you notes that fall at our feet like bright
leaves. The universe dances for us and we can change the song whenever
we choose.
TK
TK
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
America, The Bigotry
I know that lately I have written a few pieces that have touched upon the subject of race. But none have been quite like this. Other than the game, each year, the commercials are the most anticipated portion of the Super Bowl. During the beautiful 43-8 victory pulled off by the Seattle Seahawks, even more that Percy Harvin's 87-yard kickoff return or Malcolm Smith's 69-yard interception return, America was buzzing about new ads from Cheerios and Coca-Cola. Cheerios brought back Gracie, a little girl with a White mother and Black father. The trio was introduced to us in 2013 when Gracie had a conversation with her mother at the kitchen table about heart health. As a result of her mother telling her how good Cheerios were for heart health, she decides to go cover her father's heart with the cereal, much to his surprise when he awoke from a nap on the couch. In this year's commercial, Gracie learns she will soon have a little brother. And with a poker face Lady Gaga could write a remix album about, she looks at her father and says, "And a puppy". First of all, allow me to say that Little Grace Colbert is absolutely adorable and that she more than likely has a promising acting career ahead of her. Secondly, I would like to applaud General Mills for not only refusing not to air the first ad, but for making another one, releasing it during the Super Bowl AND adding another member to the family. Back when the first commercial aired, General Mills had to go as far as disabling the comments section on YouTube due to the venomous comments from those who disagreed that this was what "the American family" was supposed to look like.
To break it down for those geniuses who decided this was an inaccurate portrayal of "the American family", let's begin with basic definitions. Firstly, each member of the cast (including the father who was played by Charles Malik Whitfield, aka Otis Williams in The Temptations movie) is American. And there is a mother, a father and a child. Those three components are indicative of a family. According to Sociation Today, Volume 2, Number 2 (Fall 2004), "It is a social unit created by blood, marriage, or adoption, and can be described as nuclear (parents and children) or extended (encompassing other relatives)". So, what you have is a family of Americans. A family that is American. So, you have an American family.
Now that we've got that out of the way, allow me to say what vile, deplorable, disgusting, abhorrent, repulsive, benighted, idiotic people this country has produced. The people hurling this filth at Gracie and both her television family and her family off-screen (which happens to consist of a White mother, Black father, older sister and older brother) are apparently blind to the fact that there is no longer a such thing as "THE American family". In the 21st century, which is where all of the rational people on the planet live, a family no longer consists of ONLY a mother and father of the same race and ethnic background and their children. Today, it consists of two people, regardless of race, ethnicity, and as much as far too many shudder to hear, sexual orientation and the children they decide to birth and/or raise. The American family has become much more variable, but the one element that remains, prevails and is always a necessity is love. As long as these factors exist, you have a family. No amount of slurs, narrow-minded social media comments or rude stares can change that fact. What is probably even worse is that these are the same people who have remarked at the beauty of many bi-racial beauties in Hollywood without giving a second thought to the fact that two people of different races had to come together to produce such specimens. I strongly suggest that those dwelling in this oblivion pull their heads out of their asses and into the 21st century.
The second ad that got the world's attention was a Coca-Cola ad in which "America The Beautiful" was sang in a number of different languages. This commercial sparked the creation of "#speakAmerican" and "#boycottcoke" on Twitter. My OBVIOUS annoyance with the first hashtag is that "American" is not a language, so the ignorance is not even remotely inconspicuous. Then, let's not even get into the heinous misspellings that comprise the remainder of these tweets. Apparently, these upstanding model Americans were upset by those they consider less than American singing one of our nation's song's in their less than American languages. Since these people are equally as intelligent as the ones who hated the Cheerios commercial, allow me to break it down by definition. Merriam-Webster defines "American" as "a person born, raised, or living in the U.S." Born.....raised.....or living. Because these model Americans are so clever, I know that the "or living" portion will cause them to launch into a tirade about how there are people living illegally in this country. To that, I ask that they bring me proof that even ONE of the people in that commercial is living here illegally. That should keep them busy for a while. Now, back to those of us with brains. The fact that these people were singing about how beautiful this country was in languages equally as beautiful should have only said that they were embracing every part of themselves. Instead, the 'Mericans who probably do not even know all the words to either "America The Beautiful" or The National Anthem, got their racist panties all ruffled as though they declared another war. When will they see that this is not a country bred in what they consider "purity" and that we will never consist of only one race? And if they really want to get technical, the Native Americans are the only ones that can really call this THEIR country. I really want to see these 'Mericans even sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in Navajo, Cree or Blackfoot. If none of them can do so much as that, then they do not get to decide who is American and who is allowed to sing about the beauty of our country. They also do not get to decide what language they express it in.Coca-Cola was bold to do this ad. I say hats off to them and here's to Coca-Cola's presenting what will be the first of many ads of this nature. I would like to end this with my favorite tweet on the subject by @HaroldItz. "If you don't think 'America the Beautiful' should be sung in a foreign language, don't quote Jesus in English. #Coke".
To break it down for those geniuses who decided this was an inaccurate portrayal of "the American family", let's begin with basic definitions. Firstly, each member of the cast (including the father who was played by Charles Malik Whitfield, aka Otis Williams in The Temptations movie) is American. And there is a mother, a father and a child. Those three components are indicative of a family. According to Sociation Today, Volume 2, Number 2 (Fall 2004), "It is a social unit created by blood, marriage, or adoption, and can be described as nuclear (parents and children) or extended (encompassing other relatives)". So, what you have is a family of Americans. A family that is American. So, you have an American family.
Now that we've got that out of the way, allow me to say what vile, deplorable, disgusting, abhorrent, repulsive, benighted, idiotic people this country has produced. The people hurling this filth at Gracie and both her television family and her family off-screen (which happens to consist of a White mother, Black father, older sister and older brother) are apparently blind to the fact that there is no longer a such thing as "THE American family". In the 21st century, which is where all of the rational people on the planet live, a family no longer consists of ONLY a mother and father of the same race and ethnic background and their children. Today, it consists of two people, regardless of race, ethnicity, and as much as far too many shudder to hear, sexual orientation and the children they decide to birth and/or raise. The American family has become much more variable, but the one element that remains, prevails and is always a necessity is love. As long as these factors exist, you have a family. No amount of slurs, narrow-minded social media comments or rude stares can change that fact. What is probably even worse is that these are the same people who have remarked at the beauty of many bi-racial beauties in Hollywood without giving a second thought to the fact that two people of different races had to come together to produce such specimens. I strongly suggest that those dwelling in this oblivion pull their heads out of their asses and into the 21st century.
The second ad that got the world's attention was a Coca-Cola ad in which "America The Beautiful" was sang in a number of different languages. This commercial sparked the creation of "#speakAmerican" and "#boycottcoke" on Twitter. My OBVIOUS annoyance with the first hashtag is that "American" is not a language, so the ignorance is not even remotely inconspicuous. Then, let's not even get into the heinous misspellings that comprise the remainder of these tweets. Apparently, these upstanding model Americans were upset by those they consider less than American singing one of our nation's song's in their less than American languages. Since these people are equally as intelligent as the ones who hated the Cheerios commercial, allow me to break it down by definition. Merriam-Webster defines "American" as "a person born, raised, or living in the U.S." Born.....raised.....or living. Because these model Americans are so clever, I know that the "or living" portion will cause them to launch into a tirade about how there are people living illegally in this country. To that, I ask that they bring me proof that even ONE of the people in that commercial is living here illegally. That should keep them busy for a while. Now, back to those of us with brains. The fact that these people were singing about how beautiful this country was in languages equally as beautiful should have only said that they were embracing every part of themselves. Instead, the 'Mericans who probably do not even know all the words to either "America The Beautiful" or The National Anthem, got their racist panties all ruffled as though they declared another war. When will they see that this is not a country bred in what they consider "purity" and that we will never consist of only one race? And if they really want to get technical, the Native Americans are the only ones that can really call this THEIR country. I really want to see these 'Mericans even sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in Navajo, Cree or Blackfoot. If none of them can do so much as that, then they do not get to decide who is American and who is allowed to sing about the beauty of our country. They also do not get to decide what language they express it in.Coca-Cola was bold to do this ad. I say hats off to them and here's to Coca-Cola's presenting what will be the first of many ads of this nature. I would like to end this with my favorite tweet on the subject by @HaroldItz. "If you don't think 'America the Beautiful' should be sung in a foreign language, don't quote Jesus in English. #Coke".
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