Bringin' Beautiful Back

Today, I did an exercise with my kids (teenagers) to explore colors. We asked them to name their favorite color, name something that is that color, and tell how it makes them feel when they think of or see that color. To be honest, I fully expected nothing but blank stares from uninterested adolescents when we introduced this activity. The first group was able to name their favorite colors, but didn’t get much further into it than that (the blank stares kicked in). The most common colors, however, were black and brown, but they could not explain what they thought of or how they felt when hearing that color. The second group (my angels) jumped right into describing red, the color of blood, making them think of war and danger, or yellow, the color of sunshine, making them think of health and happiness, or white, the color of angels, making them think of peace and friendship. It was pretty amazing to hear all their ideas, and to see the smiles that emerged on their faces quickly after realizing they said something we thought was brilliant. But the thing that struck me the most was the amount of times I again heard the colors black and brown; only this time, it was used to describe their skin.

And what words do you think came to mind when they hear the word black?

Beauty. Life. Pride.

I didn’t realize those responses would affect me so much. Growing up in the US, we learn that black is the color of death, sin, and evil. The dictionary defines black as synonymous with all things dark and bad. And I was naïve enough to think that this was the definition pretty much across the board. White is good; black is bad. Brown is ugly and undesirable. I didn’t even know I had the choice to think something different. Something so simple as the meaning of colors—it took me 24 years and a trip all the way across the world to understand—I had the choice to define it myself.

“I like brown because it is the color of your (my) skin, and of the earth. It makes me think of beauty and life.” “I like black because it is the color of my (their) skin and of the (Ugandan) flag. It makes me think of beauty and pride for Africa.”

As many times as I’ve heard or even said “black is beautiful”, I’m not even sure that I believed it for myself. It’s just some cliché we’ve adapted as black Americans to raise our pride and self-awareness in a country that has taught us to hate even ourselves. But is it not false pride? Do we actually believe that the color black and the color brown are indeed beautiful and proud? In our minds, in your mind, what do these colors actually represent? Ask yourself truly, what do you think of when you think of the colors black and brown? Honestly, can you truthfully say that positive images of beauty and pride and life come to mind?

And if not, isn’t it time we change our minds?

Because I’ve decided to change mine.

I refuse to allow our racist society to dictate the way I define myself and the things that represent me anymore. From today forward, I’m taking back the control over my pride, my beauty, and my life. I’m bringing beautiful back… to black. Because somewhere between civil rights and cell phones, we forgot just how beautiful we were. We forgot that the colors black and brown belonged to us in the first place. That God had given us these colors as a birthright. And that the way we define them is a choice. OUR choice.

And I’ve already made mine.

Falling from Grace

Yesterday, I’m pretty sure I witnessed one of the greatest of God’s creations.

We went on a trip a few days ago to Masindi district in northwest Uganda to visit the first and largest national park in the country. Before going, we had to meet up at the camp site’s headquarters in Kampala to wait for our vehicle and get the other members in our party. So there was a picture of Murchison Falls on the wall, and I was like “Wow… we’re travelling all this way to see one little waterfall? I could have turned my shower on at home to see that.” So the first day, we saw some baboons and warthogs, hippos, and I’m like woot woot. The second day we went on a safari and saw some elephants, giraffes, crocodiles, and more hippos. We went on this 3 hour boat ride to the falls, and when we got there, I all but asked for my money back at the utter disappointment of it. I think even the picture looked better than the falls, which consisted of some water hitting some rocks in the distance. So yesterday, on the way home, we took a hike up the mountain to see the falls a bit closer. Still not impressed. Okay, a bit nicer, but come on. This place is on the top ten things to see before you die. And here I felt like this was some shit I could have created with a bucket and some rocks.

But then we went around the other side of the path, and got about 3 feet away from the falls. Right up to where the rivers collided and hit up against the mountains at such great speeds, it broke through granite rock and created about 4 to 5 rainbows all around it. And I literally stopped in my tracks, sat down to collect myself, and began to cry. I mean, I wasn’t sobbing like a baby or even tearing up all that much. But on the inside, I felt God right then and there, just wrap his arms around me and whisper in my ear the sweetest words of love I can’t even share.

Looking upon it, all I could think was, how could anyone deny that God exists? Nothing, no other power, could create such beauty and splendor. I remembered the day before, I said something along the lines of “I think the Taj Mahal or the pyramids should move up the list above this mess.” But as I was sitting there in complete and total amazement, I heard God tell me that nothing man has ever made could even compare to the wonders He has created on this earth. And it made me laugh… laugh that I was eating all the words I had been saying on the trip thus far. Laugh that the ten or fifteen minutes I spent staring at that waterfall was worth the time, money, and effort it took to get to that point. I laughed. Because all this time, I had been looking for God in Uganda.

And He was right there before my eyes all along.

It almost felt like, selfishly, it felt like God created that amazing display of His majesty so many years ago because He knew that at that moment, at that time, He would find me there. It made me think of His plans for me, and how I tend to try to control things or change things according to my own will, subconsciously thinking that I have to do things myself if I want them to happen. But how silly of me to think that a God who created the earth and the heavens with such magnificent detail, is incapable of accomplishing amazing things in my life and granting me all the desires of my heart. How naïve of me to assume that my plans are in any way better than His plans for me.

In the midst of all this, I thought about the things that I’ve had to witness thus far. The poverty, the injustice, the hunger, war, and despair in Uganda and in Africa as a whole. I thought about how all this time, I’ve been thinking why me? Why did I deserve to be born in a country where freedom is free, where war and hunger and poverty are the exception and not the rule, where clean air, water, and land were the bare necessity and not commodities? Why did I spend my childhood in the safety of my own home, surrounded by love and family and friends, instead of being abducted at the age of 8 to become a child soldier and be forced to kill others, be given as a sex slave, or be killed myself? Why did I dream of rainbows and gardens and unicorns, instead of having nightmares of witnessing my parents be murdered right before my eyes, or of being raped and baring children who would die of hunger or disease, or of the faces of those I was forced to kill?

I thought about how I had been questioning God and His will. How I had been wondering how the same God who delivered me from so much in life, could allow this to happen to people far more innocent and more deserving than myself. And I realized that all this introspection, this existential crisis I had been having here, was like trying to figure out how God created this waterfall. Trying to dissect every drop of water, instead of just admiring its beauty. When it’s not up to me to try and determine His will.

What I should be doing is trying to figure out where I fit in. What my place is—me, just a drop of water—which may seem insignificant, but actually serves as an integral role in God’s creation. And trusting that I might not understand it now, but that it is all part of His will, is the first step to discovering my place on this earth. I am so thankful for this gift from His grace.

“In life, for every question you have… the answer, you will find in nature, if you know where to look.” It’s a line from my favorite movie of all time, The Power of One.

I finally got my answer.

Maybe we're the ones who need to prove ourselves to Him

The second Chronicles of Narnia is even better than the first. The theme is quite resonating. Throughout the movie, the three older children have believed the words of the nation… that “Aslan” has abandoned Narnia and it’s up to the earthly kings to defend their people. They try time and again to take matters into their own hands, only to fail at every attempt. They even nearly seek the help of what can only be described as the devil himself who appears out of nowhere (Matthew 4), offering a victory over their enemies if they only pledge themselves to her (no comment on how the evil one is a woman). It is only the faith of the “little child” (Isaiah 11:6) that leads them finally to call on Aslan, who immediately gives them the victory, and forgives those who did not believe. I had forgotten how much these stories really are meant to remind us, both children and adults alike, that even the smallest faith can move mountains (Matthew 17:20) and that we are more than conquerors through Christ who loves us (Romans 8).

I apologize if I spoiled the movie for you, but it’s not like you didn’t know they were going to be victorious in the end anyway. It’s just that I had to give background in order to segway into this, my first entry in months (sorry).

Since I’ve been here in Uganda, it has been really hard for me to talk to God. I told myself that maybe He just lost track of me in all the travelling I’ve been doing. Or maybe that there is so much pain and suffering on this continent, my prayers are put on the backburner. I’m not talking about this in a superficial way, like I’m asking Him for things and not receiving them; I’m not saying bad things are happening, so therefore He must not be listening. I’m saying that usually when I pray, it’s like I can feel His presence all around me, and I know that He is listening. But here, for some reason, I pray and pray and it just feels like I’m alone. I’ve been here just begging Him to just show Himself to me; just show me that He is really there. Instead I just feel like I’m praying vain. But who would have thought that watching (the bootleg of) that children’s movie would change something in me?

“Maybe we’re the ones who need to prove ourselves to Him.” It was a line that the little girl told her brother when he asked why Aslan wouldn’t just show himself to them.

Crazy… I’ve never heard a movie line that so adequately describes my faith.

Here I am asking God to show Himself to me when how many times has He proven Himself in my lifetime? How can I proclaim that He is almighty and powerful, and with the same mouth profess that He is not listening every single time I call? It is not His presence on which my faith is based; it is His promise.

I find that in our culture especially, people refer to faith as some kind of therapeutic service. “Whatever works for you” I have heard time and again, even just yesterday. People think of God as just a means to an end, and if we can’t see Him, He must therefore not exist except in the minds of religious fanatics. But why are we passively waiting for some great miracle before we can acknowledge Him? Why do we think it’s up to God to prove His presence in our lives? Even in the worst circumstances, He gives us life, the sun, rainbows, nature, family (despite their faults), friends (ditto), and even a complete stranger who manages to say the just the right thing to get you through. How many times have you asked and received? How many times have you looked back on something you did not receive and suddenly understand why it was not given to you at that time? What more proof do you need? Why, instead, are we not attempting every day to make even the remotest fraction of an impact on His world that He has on ours? At what point do we stop making demands on God and start raising our own expectations? When will we realize that we’re the ones who should be proving ourselves to Him?

I started writing this blog yesterday and since then, I have received so many emails of encouragement from my family, friends, and small group (which are both). If I was looking for proof before, it is certainly clear to me now that when for whatever reason, God cannot come wrap His arms around me Himself, He sends His warriors to comfort and assure me that He may not come when I want Him to, but He’s always right on time.

Before I left, I told myself that I would use this time away from everything I know to truly discover who I am now that I have been changed. Perhaps God, who has carried me thus far, is now letting me stand on my own so that I might do just that. Perhaps if I look to my left, I will in fact see two sets of footprints in the sand. Perhaps… it’s not up to me to try to make sense of His will. It seems the only thing I am responsible for… is proving myself to Him.

…I’ll be around. Check back for weekly updates on my travels. For real this time!

I love you and miss you all!!

Meet the Blacks

Tyler Perry's new movie took black people back 50 years.

And I seem to be the only one that's royally pissed off about it.

Sure, I'm mad I spent $8 and 2 hours of my life that I will NEVER get back. And sure, I'm perterbed that in 2008, I have been exposed to a minstrel show with actual black people dancing around in black face. Indeed, I'm annoyed that it already grossed $33 million and it probably cost $3 million and a lot of destroyed careers to produce. But what I'm MOST pissed about is that I haven't heard ANYONE protesting, speaking, or marching about all the negative stereotypes, ignorant perpetuations, and flat out EMBARASSMENT Meet the Browns has caused the entire black community.

It took me a week and a half to recover from all the damage that movie did to my psyche and self worth as a black person, just to be able to write this blog that should have been written the minute I got home from RUNNING--not walking-- away from that movie. I couldn't get away fast enough and back to my home-- a place where black people are educated, full of pride and dignity, represent black people in a positive and intelligent way, and are likewise disgusted by the muzings of directors who will do anything-- including sell his soul to the devil-- for a box office hit. Tyler Perry, you disappoint me. Angela Bassett, what were you thinking? How do you go from Tina Turner to hood rat chick? Eat the cake, Anna Mae. Desgraciada.

Speaking of which, as if it weren't bad enough to destroy the entire black race with this movie, Tyler Perry had to go add in a ghetto, loud-mouthed, weed-smoking, violent, slorefully dressed LATINA hood rat that surely exemplifies everything I embody as a latin woman, as well. Thanks, Tyler. I appreciate how you've maken a mockery of everything that I am and displayed it for all the white people who happen stumble across your movie that we indeed are everything they think of us... and worse. Awesome job, queer (sorry, it slipped).

Black people need a manual. I'd be happy to write it in my tons of spare time that I do not have. I will call it "What black people do and do not need to be pissed the f*%& off about and other shit that may set us back from all the strides we've made away from the centuries of humiliation and oppression to which we were subjected, and also, why it's more of a disgrace for a BLACK person to do anything listed in this book than for a white person because white people don't know no better but we sure as hell DO!!!" Copyright on that title.

Why is it that Don Imus (his ass was wrong, also) can't call black women nappy headed hos, but Tyler Perry, who knows better, can have a scene in his movie where they go through a list of women and describe the TYPE of ho they were, ending with the characters' own MOTHER, calling her a nasty ho? And furthermore, why was I the only person in the theatre NOT laughing at that scene?

If a white person directed a movie about a ghetto black woman with three kids from three different dead beats, one of which is abusive, who finds out her own dead beat pimp/deacon father dies, and goes to BF Georgia for a funeral in which ignorant black people are actin' a damn fool IN church, all while her basketball-playin', dope-slingin' son gets whored by white agents and signs to the pros straight out of high school and buys a Cadillac Escalade with his newfound money and gets his family out the ghetto. Oh, and throw in a scene with an old woman in a high speed chase in Dekalb County, throwing bags of weed out the window and assaulting an officer, WHAT?!?!?! This country would have a fit. Even white people would be mad about that shit. They'd be like, damnit, after all the time I spend at work trying to convince black people that I'm not racist, I'm gonna have to start from square one after they see that movie.

So why the HELL is it okay for a black person to disgrace the black race, but no one else can?? F* that. It's NOT OKAY. We need a manual so black people would learn after the first time someone pulled this shit, that it is not acceptable. Especially coming from someone who has made so many strides in the RIGHT direction of portraying black Americans in a different and positive light. Why erase all the work you've done? Tranny (sorry, slipped again).

I'm pissed. And you should be, too. If you're black, DO NOT waste your money or time being offended by that whore of a movie, and spread the word FAST. If you're white, :::sigh:::, I'm sorry. I apologize for every EXTRA that participated in creating that catastrophe. Please don't think that movie represents the views and behavior of all, or even some black people. Just pretend they were all white people wearing black (or brown) face, because that's the ONLY way I walked out of that movie without committing suicide.

As for you, Tyler Perry. Shame on you.

In the meantime, I'll work on that manual...

To me, you're worth it

Oh, come on, you know it was only a matter of time before I snuck a movie line in here somewhere. Don't you know me at all??

But seriously, in light of recent (awesome) incidents in my life, I thought I'd share my opinions on a common misconception amongst young women, and even sometimes men, when you first start dating: this whole idea that when things are so good, something bad must be on the way.

You know you've thought it. Might even be thinking it right now.

The reason we allow ourselves to endulge in such wasteful thought processes is not because we actually think all people are screwed up and will show their "true colors" (what does that mean anyway; are we all wearing fake colors? Can my true color be darker, cuz it's winter and I'm lookin a little pale these days) in due time; in fact, this notion is really just a mask for our subconscious realities. When actually, the thing that we really fear is that WE are not worth someone so great.

And that's just sad.

Because in the meantime, while we're putting up these walls, lowering our standards, and broadcasting our negative expectations, we are merely setting ourselves up for failure. It's called a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you assume someone is going to mess up, they'll do it just to prove you right. And honestly... what do we get out of knowing we were right, anyway? Does it feel ANY better to have your heart ripped out, just because you knew it was coming all along?? Allow me to answer that for you: no. It doesn't. It hurts just as bad. In fact, sometimes it hurts worse cuz your dumb ass knew it was coming all along, and stayed with that person anyway. So maybe we're all better off being blind optimists. At least, if they hurt us, we can say we never saw it coming... And if they don't hurt us, we're not cheering them on to do so in the meantime.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying just fall in love with everyone you meet. I mean, clearly, if there are red flags going up all over the place, and if your gut is telling you they're shady, you should probably go with your gut. But honestly, if someone is just right in every way, if they seem to call right when you want them to call, do exactly what you want them to do, like you just as much as you like them, you know... all the good stuff... Don't sell yourself short by assuming it's all too good to be true. Ever think they just might be thinking the same about you?? Ever think YOU might be too good to be true, too?

And why shouldn't you be? You're awesome. God made you in His image, which means you're kind, loving, intelligent, beautiful, and perfect in every way for someone out there... And if you happen to find them, don't go screwing it all up with your own insecurities. YOU ARE WORTH someone who treats you right, takes care of you, loves you for who you are, and trusts you with all their heart. THEY ARE WORTH you. And even if they're not, even if they end up being something different altogether... You can't allow the fear of losing keep you from playing the game. All things happen according to His will, so if it doesn't work, it will only mean that something better is out there for you.

Furthermore, you can walk away knowing that you gave it your all and didn't hold back. You can walk away knowing there is nothing you could have done differently that might have changed the outcome. You can walk away with your integrity. And that is worth so much more than being right.

Just take a chance. You never know how absolutely *perfect* something could turn out to be... You never know... it might just be worth it.

Cuz to me, you're worth it. ;)

True Fasting

So, as some of you know, I took my Lenten season fast to new heights this year. After talking with a good friend about active vs. passive fasting, I decided to go balls to the walls (probably not a good metaphor here), and take my spirituality to a whole new level. So during this new and improved fast, God has been really good to me, and has shown me all kinds of amazing things I would have never seen otherwise. I'd like to share some of that goodness with you.

Aside from recently aqcuired giddiness (assisted by a bittersweet end to my dating fast), God has given me a lot of peace of mind since my last (angry) post (sorry about that). I re-discovered that being happy with myself has nothing to do with the words or actions of others, and that maybe the problem I had with my "friends" was actually one that could be addressed within ME. It truly takes a bigger person to admit that. I am happy to oblidge.

Also, I have found that joining a small group at church, despite many years of resistance, has truly enlightened me and given me yet another reason for inner peace. I know there are people praying for me out there, I know I am held accountable for my actions by some very special individuals, I have people fasting with me (for once!), and most of all, as simple as it may sound, I know there's someone to sit with at church, so I have no excuse not to go!! You'd be surprised how important that can be. Motivation is essential in all aspects of life.

Furthermore, creating and leading a Christian group at RSPH has been a blessing in so many ways. I finally brought up GOD in class for the first time, and I felt good about it. I didn't feel like I was going to be attacked or ridiculed for my religious beliefs, and I knew that someone had my back because I recognized some people from the group in my class. It felt good just to say it out loud. I felt like I was coming out of the closet as a Christian. In fact, every day I feel more and more like I'm getting comfortable with being the "C" word. And I can't even believe I was ashamed or afraid in the first place. In fact, I can't believe we as a culture have been so afraid of the "C" word. It is truly as if Christianity is equivalent to Intollerance in our society, so much so that Christians fear offending people just by being who they are.

Sometimes, I understand white guilt. I understand feeling like as a majority, you have to be ashamed of your heritage and attempt to make up for others' mistakes by overcompensating and hiding in the shadows.

Allow me to be the first black person to say-- being white really sucks. I hate the feeling of having to hide or suppress my pride of being a majority. And I don't want to live that way anymore. I'm not GOING to live that way anymore. And neither should anyone else.

All this to say, I'm sorry for not posting in such a long time. School and work got me pretty tied up, but I haven't forgotten about you. Furthermore, I will be fasting until Easter, and what I know about fasting is that it allows you to reach new heights with your relationship with God and His ability to answer prayers if you're willing to make the sacrifice. So if any of you need prayer right now, PLEASE don't hesitate to ask. One thing I know is that prayer changes things; changes people.

I, for one, will never be the same.

True Fasting:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?book_id=29&chapter=58&version=31