Monday, December 28, 2009

The Saga of Lou Jing Continues...

The Chinese culture is massively ignorant to say the least. It's easy to generalize a culture that shuts out others and knows little about the outside world. Lou Jing seems to get so much flack for being half Chinese - but if the people of China would crane their necks just a few degrees, they would see that the mixed culture is growing largely around the world...




(Via Bossip.com...)

Born and raised in Shanghai by her Chinese single mother, Lou Jing, a half African-American half Chinese aspiring singer, experienced very little discrimination during childhood. However after she appeared on the Chinese reality television show called “Let’s Go! Oriental Angels,” Lou Jing gained national fame and notoriety — largely for her skin color.
“After the contest started, I often got more attention than the other girls. It made me feel strange,” Lou said.
The reality show hosts fondly called her “chocolate girl” and “black pearl.” The Chinese media fixated on her skin color. Netizens flooded Web sites with comments saying she “never should have been born” and telling her to “get out of China.”
“We lived in a small circle before,” said her mother. “But after Lou was seen nationwide, some Chinese people couldn’t accept her.”
Even well meaning friends and family members revealed widespread ignorance about Lou Jing’s racial difference:
“Sometimes people on the street would ask me, ‘Why do you speak Chinese so well?’ I’d just say, ‘Because I’m Chinese!’” Lou said.
“She used to wonder why she had black skin,” said one classmate. “We thought about this question together and decided to tell her it’s because she likes dark chocolate. So her skin turned darker gradually.”
Another classmate weighed in, “We said it’s because she used to drink too much soy sauce.”
Even Lou Jing’s maternal grandmother admitted in a taped interview, “I told Lou Jing she was black because her mom was not very well and had to take Chinese medicine.”
Here are some of the actual comments posted on websites about Lou Jing and her mother:
“Shanghai people’s value plunges. A bastard, brought her out to show off because of the foreigner descent.”
“Is this the legend of the bastard? And an unwanted bastard, Her mother is a shameless woman, pregnant by a black guy, and then abandoned, was it good when he was pleasing you? Still obsessed with him after several decades? Not feel ashamed, even go on TV to look, looking for what? Looking for lost big XX? Looking for climax never had again? Shameless! Why are Shanghai women always the target of criticism? It’s because of shameless bitch like her! Dragon TV please help this bastard find her family. Let the black father with a big XX hurry back, address this old woman’s needs! Black Dad, come back soon! Someone cannot forget your big XX.”
“This woman has no sense of shame, married and you cheat, give birth to a black kid so there is no way to hide, if wasn’t for that her husband will have to raise their children. Cheap is the word, in order to run with a foreigner, even do with black people.”

Aside from being half-bred, Lou Jing is human! These people consider themselves to be good people because they are of one race, yet they treat her like an animal. How can you call yourself a human being and ridicule someone of your same species, someone who shares your culture with you?? Lou Jing is Chinese. She lives in China, speaks the language and the dialects - she is her culture. Her skintone cannot change what she knows, what she was raised in. There are full - on, tenth-generation Chinese children and teenagers who do not know their own heritage. They have been engulfed in the American/Western lifestyles and have forgotten to absorb the history that took so long to be built. You mean to tell me you would appreciate them more because of their appearance, than a young woman who rides for her country? It's not like she's a Black-American or non-Chinese who has come into the country and tried to assimilate. She was born from a Chinese mother, raised on the same Chinese foods, given the same Chinese education. What makes her deserve this kind of abuse? The people of China need to wake up and embrace the new generations that are to come. I never hear ridicule about the Chinese-Caucasian children that are born every day. It's like as soon as Black gets thrown into the pot - people back away from the dish. It's rediculous! We are the backbone of almost every culture. We have built civilizations for others and still managed to create our own -yet we often lack the recognition we deserve. And the reason why is simple;

People fear what they don't understand. 

They can't fathom how a race can be abused for hundreds of years; raped, pillaged, stolen from - and still persevere and succeed. People can't get how a child can be raised by one parent, in the poorest of conditions, and still get a valuable education and become a major figure in the world. They will never be able to emulate the strength of the Black race. And that, my friends - is where this resentment comes from. The ignorance of the Chinese people can be repaired if they would only take the time to get to know their mixed-cultured counterparts. Honestly, Lou Jing's mother is at the forefront of that. She obviously had the bravery to even approach a black man. I big her up for that alone.

Another thing - what about her talent? Obviously the superficiality of media translates in all cultures. She can be eliminated and a less-talented contestant be chosen, simply because of her pigmentation. China's got a long way to go. Looong way.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

||Things Fall Apart...||

Sometimes you can't fight what nature has intended for you...

At times, when I go without sleep for too long - my body breaks down. It doesn't happen much often nowadays, especially since I've been back in the gym lately. When it does - it's bad. It's usually a sign that I need to slow down and cool out. The challenge is to figure out what is causing me stress, and then find a way to fix it.

It started this afternoon at work, and I found myself bucking (falling asleep and rapidly waking up) while I was checking out customers. They, of course, don't notice - because I'm still moving and functioning (just not talking). I started feeling real sluggish and lethargic, and even the energy drink I wolfed down was only a temporary fix.

Michael and I literally just left the movie Avatar - and the 3D effects had my eyes on a rampage.  I left the movie feeling shaky at best, but well enough to drive myself home. On the way, though - everything came crashing down.

You know music is my lifeline - and sometimes my Zune seems entwined in my circuitry; like it knows what I'm thinking and feeling. Alicia Keys - "Samsonite Man" started playing on my way home, and as I sang along - my body decided it deserved a good cry. I felt the tears coming, and as the songs changed, Chris Brown and Keri Hilson - "Superhuman" started to play. I kept singing to keep myself calm, but the water in my eyes was clouding my vision, and I'm positive God drove me home, because I was out of it. "Breakdown" by Mariah Carey played next - and obviously this had to be my Zune poking fun at me. I had to laugh, because every song was a piece of emotion that was flowing through my veins. "Pretty Wings?" Really?

And I realize what the problem is. I refuse to be content with being alone. I have been spoiled and pampered for eight years, and it's hard for me to settle for anything less. Spoiled in the sense that I had someone to sleep with at night, someone to talk to me when I felt restless, someone to bring me flowers and tell me they love me. I've lost that luxury - and even though it's for the betterment of our lives, it hurts like hell. It hurts to know that I am out of my comfort zone, and I don't know how to handle it.

While I found myself a distraction - he is far from ideal when it comes to full attention. I am respected and treated well, but I'm also not too young to know and understand the dynamics of "The Game." I know I'm not alone. Come on, he's what most girls want in their lives. Excitement, good looks, cash flow - why would I honestly think I could keep that to myself? Especially considering that I've known him for years - I know more than he thinks I do about his past life. I would never kid myself like that. That would be naive and dumb. And I am neither of the two. That doesn't make it hurt any less. I am a seriously emotional creature - I just happen to have a shield of steel covering my soul - and I refuse to let anyone penetrate that shield and make me vulnerable. No matter how bad I want to give in.

Oddly enough, as I turned into my driveway, The Fray - "You Found Me" started playing. This - my friends, is a direct sign that God is paying attention. He knows what is going on in my world, and he's telling me that he's here. I need to give him the same amount of attention he has been showing me, and I truly think that my situations and circumstances will improve. There's no other fact but that. I need to get it together.

With that said, I am no longer chasing my Samsonite Man. If he shows up, that's a bonus for me - if he doesn't - I will survive. I've never had to put all my energy into pursuing a love interest, and I refuse to start now. I know feelings are there, but I also know he's no one-trick pony. I won't be gamed. Not again.

Now, let's see what song plays next...
The Fray - "Heartless" (Kanye West Cover)

Friday, December 25, 2009

This Christmas...


Sooo - I'm forever telling my co-workers about my quirky family and all the strange things we do. This month has been all about my Mom's obsession with Christmas trees. We have a tree coming out of every orifice of this house. There's a tree in the guest bathroom, a tree in the den, a tree on the upstairs balcony, a tree on the downstairs patio, two trees in the walkway, a tree by the door... I could go on - but you get the point. Shoot - some of the trees - have their own trees! Not to mention the main tree, of course.

So, last night, we were sitting in the den - shooting the breeze like we so often do, and we started talking about the excess of Christmas trees we have in the house. "Do you know what my first Christmas tree looked like?" She said.
  Growing up in Jamaica, my Mom's family was poor. Over the years, they progressed into better lifestyles - but living was never really easy for them. They once lived in a Tenament Yard - which as Island people know, it is basically America's projects. A huge yard where there were sections of shoddy buildings, most of which the rooms were shared by a single family. My mom's Christmas tree, was a bush that they decorated with whatever trimmings they could find. Her and her siblings would make decorations out of tissue paper, and whatever tinsel they could get their hands on. Sometimes, my Grandfather would bring home the branch of a nice tree, and they would hang a decoration off of that, too.

Over the years, after she moved to America - Mom bought my Grandma a small tree to keep at home. She sent mini decorations, and Grandma was very careful to keep them well protected. Ironically enough, they were cheap decorations from various dollar stores, but Grandma didn't care. She cherished those ornaments like they were from Macy's. We would play with them like action figures, but be careful to put them back - because Grandma would flip if any of them were broken. Back then, you couldn't just walk into a store in Jamaica and pick up a Christmas tree. Someone had to send you one from "foreign" - and that was a big deal.

So now, I understand why she loves the trees so much. It's like they make up for lost time, lost enjoyment. She wants to make sure that my brothers, sisters and I have the holidays she couldn't afford to have. And we do - and we love every moment of it. I have been raised to appreciate all that I have and receive, because my family has come far to give us these opportunities.

This Christmas is a little different from the last - less gifts under the tree, some family members are missing - but the principal is always the same. We cherish those who are with us, send love to those who are not - and give thanks to God for everything that we are blessed to have and receive. That's what it's all about, right?

Happy Holidays, everyone. "Happy Kwanzaa - or whatever you guys celebrate," as we were told how ever many times by some of our white customers yesterday. I don't take it as ignorance, I take it as them trying to be understanding and current. And I appreciate that, too.

Enjoy the montage of Christmas trees, provided by none other  than - my Mom.





Tuesday, December 22, 2009

New Blog!!

My cousins and I have created a group blog called The Poppy Show. If you know us at all - you know we are constantly high energy, and forever discussing life. It's an open forum where we'll discuss our individual interests and expertise - and sometimes just talk straight foolishness. Check us out, follow us - and most of all, we appreciate your support.

http://thepoppyshow.blogspot.com

Give Thanks...

Soo Mom got her results back - she's fine. I can't describe to you the elation I feel. It's like a soda was opened in my chest, and all the bubbly and air rose through my soul. I am so grateful and happy right now!

It brings me to the holidays. No matter how hard times get, no matter how little money we have - there's no greater feeling than knowing that you have people who truly care about you in your world. There's people out there who like to wade in the waters of depression and loathing - but in reality and actuality -your life could be much worse. Disregard the wealth, the lavish cars and lifestyles - a lot of the rich people I encounter are extremely lonely. You can tell a lot about a person by watching their groceries flow down a conveyor belt. The "Lonely Man Dinner" (reference Martin episodes) is common amongst people of privilege. One rotisserie chicken, one serving of side dishes - a case of beer. These people lack true friends. Forget family sometimes - we can't control who we're related to - but to not have any real friends in the world? That's got to be a painful feeling. I pray I never experience that.

That being said - I am eternally grateful for having good people in my life. When I experience tough times, I know that I can expose my feelings to certain people and know that they will be valued, understood and held with the utmost confidence. That is one of the greatest feelings one can have. Because when you have nothing - it is almost a guarantee that at least one of your friends can help you out - no matter the situation. I feel good just knowing that. Who needs Christmas gifts under the tree when I have friends??

This morning during my yoga - I thanked God for everything that he has blessed us with as of late. There have been so many changes to our lives this past year - to have even one blessing is an honor. This holiday season, I thank God for life, health and the opportunity to seek happiness. Many people lack that option right now. Or at least they think so.

Enjoy your holidays, people. The mere fact that you can read this means your life is far better than the homeless gentleman living underneath an overpass. God has blessed you. Take comfort in that.

Love you guys - I am off to bed. Gotta work at 9. I thank God for employment, but jeeze - I need a vacation!!

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Emotional Rollercoaster...


So, I just returned from my quick escape - my room looks crazy, and I really should be doing things like cleaning it up, but I've got too much on my mind. I've got my space heater on blast, an oversized t-shirt and leggings on - and yes, I pulled out my leg warmers and toesie socks. I'm prepared for the cold winter - at least physically...

Anyway - as we all know, I am single. I've been verbally single for almost a year, formally for a few months now. I have learned to cope with the pains of being alone, but at some point in this journey - I realized I don't have to be. And I guess this is where He comes in to the equation.

I don't really talk about my love life - and as of late, it's primarily because I didn't have one. Lately, though - I find myself drawn to someone who I was previously banned from even acknowledging. One day I got a mysterious text, and it was history from then on. I can't lie - it feels good.

I will refer to him as He. Simply because as candid as I'd like to be - let's face it, this is still the internet. I can honestly say I love him. He is a great friend, an incredible person to be around - and some other stuff that I'll keep to myself. I laugh so much when I'm around him, that when it's time for me to say goodbye, I end up feeling like crap. He loves the same things I love, he does similar things that I do - He gets me. I don't have to worry about being another person around him (not that I try), because I know He takes me as I am.

{{Tangent}} Ugh. This is sooo difficult! There's so many thing I want to say, but I always fear reprocussion - because I know there are eyes on me. All the time. I can't hide from them. And one of these days - I'm going to just let it all out - no matter the consequence.

Anyway - I feel at ease when He's around. I just appreciate his presence. Every time I travel back home, I know I'm going to see him - and it just makes everything worthwhile. The flight anxiety, the weather - everything - it's all worth it. With guys that try and "court" me, I always worry about the ulterior motives they harbor. Who wants what, who thinks they're getting what -how much money they think they can try and get out of me. I don't worry about that - because he's the one who extends himself for me. I know he'll go that extra mile, because he's done it before, and I'm sure he'll do it again. I find comfort in that.

The problem is - I spent so much time trying to stay away from him, I find myself not knowing how to handle this newfound "freedom". Being able to call him, speak to him - see him - it's all happening so quickly. These past few months have been whirlwind, and I worry that it's gonna fizzle out and lose its momentum. Don't get me wrong - I'm hardly looking for a boyfriend, but "cuffing" season is here, and it would suck real bad if I was the only one without a partner, lol. I refuse to go down like that.

I think he knows how I feel. We've been harboring feelings since high school, for Pete's sake. But I don't know if he understands how intense this is for me. I've been tied up in a relationship for pretty much all of my pubescent/young adult life - I hardly know another man. So, that being said - I hope he understands how fragile the human heart can be. The apprehension in me wonders if what he says is all words - but the human in me sees the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not paying attention, the way he holds my hand - the way he hugs me. I can't help but believe the feelings are mutual. Sometimes it feels like a dream. Something that was never supposed to come true. Which is why I hope I don't wake up to some sort of emotional nightmare. My romantic year has been horrible up to now. He is my escape
.

It's funny, he's not tech savvy - so he'll probably never read this. But then again, it'll probably be my luck if he does. Either way - the cat is out of the bag. Kimi has been cuffed. All others need not apply. Thankyouhaveagoodday.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

"Wildwood" Vol. 4




Excuse my hiatus - school had me wrapped up. Winter break has arrived - so I have more time to indulge in writing. Here goes. Enter - Yvette...

||Yvette||

My speech at the University went well this afternoon, and I celebrated with my best friends - slash colleagues at Ruth's Chris in the evening. One veal shank and a few mimosas later, and we were all venting about our love lives. Martina couldn't stop gushing about the getaway to Grand Cayman her husband took her on last weekend. She described the hours of lovemaking, the beautiful suite overlooking the cay, the romantic dinners they shared. I smiled gently when she showed us the handmade coral necklace he bought her.
Josie whispered about the young mechanic she's been seeing while her husband was away on business. He accidentally spent the night with her last evening - and had to scale down the second-floor balcony when her husband surprisingly came home early from Beirut. We all shared a laugh when she told us how quickly she threw his clothes, and her neglige out the window and slipped into an old t-shirt.
Katrina talked about all the hoops her ex-husband's been jumping through to try and win her back. On the table, she tossed the keys to the Mercedes that he parked in front of her house a week ago. The story of how he cried in front of all her patients at the hospital had us in stitches.
All I could do was sigh when it came to my turn. I had barely anything to share. I talked about my oldest son, Ricardo, and his usual escapades from college. The new flooring in the kitchen, a cute watch I bought from Cartier, and Richard's usual antics. Not much to discuss. I felt so bored with my life.

"Girl, you need to spice things up - find a young hottie for yourself. What's up with that gardener of yours - he's cute," says mechanic-banging Josie. "Jo - Raul is barely 18, and speaks zero English," I reply. "Okay - but have you seen his abs? What's Spanish for 'take me now?'"
The table erupts in laughter, totally forgetting that we'rre in a restaraunt full of patrons. I take one more swig of my Disarrono and call it a night. We hug and say our goodbyes - promising to call. Everyone runs home to their respective lovers, while I stroll out to an empty nest and a cold bed. As we cruise home, the Wildwood sign beams on the road ahead of us. I ask my driver to stop in. It's only eight o'clock - might as well get some shopping in - just to kill time. I get a few staple items at first, then I end up going overboard. Before I know it - my trolley's full and almost losing my balance, I feel a hand calmly steady my waist.

"Almost had a spill there," says the deep baritone behind me. As I turn around, and to my horror - my hunky cashier is smiling in my face. I hope he doesn't smell the alcohol on my breath. I smile back shyly, and regain my balance.

"Guess I got a little too much, huh?" I say as i struggle to turn the cart towards a checkout counter. "Not at all- looks like you've got everything you need here. Except - chocolate."
He laughs as he pulls the carriage to his line. As he unloads everything for me, he talks about school and his work schedule. Of course, I hear none of this, because I am busy admiring his physique - watching the smooth skin of his face curl into gentle dimples as he smiles. When he's done ringing me up, he politely offers to help me to my car. I try to decline, but I glance at the three-hundred dollar order and reluctantly nod my head. we talked as I waited for my driver to pull up - and surprisingly, he holds good conversation for a young one. We load the bags into the car and I slip him a twenty along with my card.
"We've got a good music program at my University, one of these days we've got to talk you into transferring."
I don't know what made me do it, but giving him my number was the most exhilarating thing I've done in a while. He smiles and almost instinctively, puts the bundle in his pocket. His soft hand shakes mine, and gently closes the door. As we pull off, I look back just in time to watch him walk away.


Damn, I hope he calls.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

||Appreciate Life||

So - last night I was told that my Mom may have Lupus... For those who don't know: Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) is a chronic, inflammatory autoimmune disorder. It may affect the skin, joints, kidneys, and other organs. Symptoms vary from person to person, and may come and go. The condition may affect one organ or body system at first. Others may become involved later. Almost all people with SLE have joint pain and most develop arthritis. Frequently affected joints are the fingers, hands, wrists, and knees.

General symptoms include:

  • Arthritis
  • Fatigue
  • Fever
  • General discomfort, uneasiness or ill feeling (malaise)
  • Joint pain and swelling
  • Muscle aches
  • Nausea and vomiting
  • Pleural effusions
  • Pleurisy (causes chest pain)
  • Psychosis
  • Seizures
  • Sensitivity to sunlight
  • Skin rash -- a "butterfly" rash over the cheeks and bridge of the nose affects about half of those with SLE. The rash gets worse when in sunlight. The rash may also be widespread.
  • Swollen glands

Additional symptoms that may be associated with this disease:

  • Abdominal pain
  • Blood disorders, including blood clots
  • Blood in the urine
  • Coughing up blood
  • Fingers that change color upon pressure or in the cold
  • Hair loss
  • Mouth sores
  • Nosebleed
  • Numbness and tingling
  • Red spots on skin
  • Skin color is patchy
  • Swallowing difficulty
  • Visual disturbance
There is no cure for SLE. Treatment is aimed at controlling symptoms. Individual symptoms determine treatment. (via GoogleHealth) When she told me, I tried to laugh it off. I did the usual - I joked to her about it, told her not to say things like that - and tried to lighten the situation. She looked at me and said, "Well, if I do - I'm gonna live like I'm dying." That's what killed me. On my way to my cousin's house, the tears started streaming, and I just couldn't stop. I've seen people afflicted with the disease, at various levels and stages of illness. It can vary from minor skin deformity - to complete debilitation. I can't remember a time when Mom wasn't self sufficient. Not sure if I could imagine her needing help moving or walking, or watching her skin peel and change. I am afraid. All I can do is pray that this is is not happening. Like CousinJin said, I can't let the thought manifest into reality. I've got to block it out and focus on the positive. I am trying my best. There's so much going on in our lives - so many issues with finances and family - I can't imagine another blow like this. I refuse to think about it. All I can do is pray. I just want to curl up into a ball and sob quietly right now. I'm fighting tears as I type. It's so hard to concentrate on other aspects of my world when all I want to do is make sure my Mom is okay. I'm supposed to be here studying - but I've decided to go to bed. I'll leave my fate up to God.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Blacks In China - the Uphill Battle

Shout outs to my Mom for sending me this article - you know we're very into various lifestyles of mutts ::smile::


SHANGHAI -- As a mixed-race girl growing up in this most cosmopolitan of mainland Chinese cities, 20-year-old Lou Jing said she never experienced much discrimination -- curiosity and questions, but never hostility.

So nothing prepared Lou, whose father is a black American, for the furor that erupted in late August 2009 when she beat out thousands of other young women on "Go! Oriental Angel," a televised talent show. Angry Internet posters called her a "black chimpanzee" and worse. One called for all blacks in China to be deported.

As the country gets ready to welcome the first African American U.S. . president, whose first official visit here starts Sunday, the Chinese are confronting their attitudes toward race, including some deeply held prejudices about black people. Many appeared stunned that Americans had elected a black man, and President Obama ' s visit has underscored Chinese ambivalence about the growing numbers of blacks living here.

"It ' s sad," Lou said, her eyes welling up as she recalled her experience. "If I had a face that was half-Chinese and half-white, I wouldn ' t have gotten that criticism. . . . Before the contest, I didn ' t realize these kinds of attitudes existed."

As China has expanded its economic ties with Africa -- trade between them reached $107 billion last year -- the number of Africans living here has exploded. Tens of thousands have flocked to the south, where they are putting down roots, establishing communities, marrying Chinese women and having children. Not one child according to Chinese law.

“As it was in the beginning, so shall it be in the end” The new Shang Dynasty. The EXODUS was FROM Africa --NOT TOAFRICA.

The first major Dynasty of China was the Black Shang Dynasty. There are over 100 thousand of these original black chinese remaining. UNESCO is begging china to protect there heritage. Chairman Mao slaughtered millions between 1940 - 1960.

The skeletal remains from Southern China are predominately Negroid. The people of that era practiced single burials which is an African ritual. In northern China Blacks founded many civilizations. The three major empires of China were the Xia Dynasty (c.2205-1766 BC), Shang Yin Dynasty (c.1700-1050 BC) and the Zhou Dynasty. The Zhou dynasty was the first dynasty founded by the Mongoloid people in China called Hua (Who-aa). The founders of Xia and Shang came from the Fertile African Crescent by way of Iran . Chinese civilization began along the Yellow River . By 3500 BC. Blacks in China were raising silkworms and making silk.. The culture hero Huang Di is a direct link of Africa . His name was pronounced in old Chinese Yuhai Huandi or "Hu Nak Kunte." He arrived in China from the west in 2282 BC and settled along the banks of the Loh River in Shanxi . This transliteration of Huandgi, to Hu Nak Kunte is interesting because Kunte is a common clan name among the Manding speakers. The Africans or Blacks that founded civilization in China were often called Li Min "black headed people" by the Zhou dynasts. This term has affinity to the Sumero-Akkadian term Sag-

Gig-Ga "black headed people.”

China was occupied predominately by Blacks from West Asia to China . Blacks were forced from East and Southeast Asia by the expansion of the Thai, Annamite, Bak and Hua Mongoloids. Blacks ruled China until around 1000-700 BC. Blacks of China were known in historical literature by many names, including Negro, Austroloid, Oceanean, etc. by the Europeans. The East Indians and Mongoloid groups had other names like Dara, Yneh-chih, Yaksha, Suka, K ' un-lun, Lushana and Seythians.

China is such a mysterious country - it's no surprise that many people do not know about its rich, black history. Many civilizations and cultures in this world have been founded, supported or created based on the strength of Africans. In most events - the African history is hidden and/or undermined to emphasize the fairer-skinned counterpart that they shared the land with.

In the case of Lou Jing, she is merely experiencing the discrimination and injustices that many of our mixed-race American counterparts have already gone through. China may be advanced in technology and agriculture, but as far as it goes with tolerance and cultural diversity - they have a long way to go. We always learned in history class back in elementary school how difficult it was for non-Chinese people to enter and live in the country. I can only imagine how it feels being on the dark end of the mixed spectrum and live in China. It's hard enough being brown in America. Chinese people are notoriously stereotyped for profiling black people in the US. Ever heard the term, "Hurry up an buy?"

It's interesting, because in Jamaica, "black Chiney" is a term used for, well - people who are Black and Chinese. It is pretty common nowadays to see mixed Asian and black children on the island. Now, to see a family like that is another story. It is slowly becoming acceptable to mix races, but back in the day as Mom tells me sometimes - the Chinese men would have sex with the black women of the island, unbeknownst of course to their Chinese wives. When the woman would become pregnant, the child was often considered a "jacket," or a child who does not belong to the accused father. This lead to many fatherless mixed children, a bad name placed on the mother of the child, and a complex placed on the mixed child that would scar them for years. Tragic, yet true. Which makes Lou Jing's story all the more intriguing. I am curious to know how she deals with her adversities in a country where she is seriously outnumbered. It takes a strong individual to overcome discrimination, especially when there is little support around you.

I am sure these experiences will simply make her stronger. Winning that talent competition may be her stepping stone into stardom - putting her on the map. This may be exactly what is needed to shed light on these kinds of issues.

I suppose only time will tell.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

{[The Kimi Chronicles...}}

So I've decided to really start talking about my life in my blog. I guess I'll leave out names - but I feel like blogging is an open canvas; it gives us the ability to be candid and honest - without the immediate brutality that the real world often brings. I've kept a lot of my thoughts inside my head with this semester flying under me and knocking me to the ground - I think it's due time for a bit of real talk...

I have a stalker. And it's hard t oexplain the history of this person without going into a bag of mix-up. Long story short, he is a strange character who may have single-handedly sparked off the end of my eight-year relationship. And I want nothing to do with him romantically.

But for some reason - he doesn't get the clue.

I suspect he gets aroused by my rejection towards him. I can't explain it - but there's something in his tone of voice when he hears me say no. He takes these deep breaths, moans my name under his whispers - then continues his monologue. I hadn't seen him in nearly six months at one point - and he was texting me and telling me he missed me. Why? How? What have I done for you to even have remote feelings for me? Nothing. And that is where his infatuation becomes his obsession. And it creeps me out.

Oddly enough - fate has worked in his favor, and there have been two occasions where I've needed to call on him for assistance. He happens to do mechanic work, and twice my mechanic has failed me to the point where I was in desperate need of help. This past time was so recent - it was yesterday. And the encounter solidified the fact that I want him out of my world. He is beyond strange. I wish you guys could see the intensity in his eyes when he looks at me. I cringe at the thought of what may be running through his mind at times.

One may ask while reading this - why have I continued to speak to him? It's a complicated issue that has one answer - he is an in-law. I, being the family diplomat, tried my best to keep things calm after the "incident" that took place a year ago - and forgave him for the trife that he committed. That forgiveness became the opening in his doorway of opportunity to come into my world. My mom's hired him to do work in the house, further increasing his stalker title - because he now knows where I live, what my room looks like, the car I drive - my immediate family. It sends a chill through my body to think of how much crucial information he knows. But I know more about him than he realizes - and I suppose that keeps him at bay. Plus, I know my strengths - I'll be fine.

All I know is - once I move into my new apartment in the next few months - he will never hear from me again. I don't care who he's related to. His desire to be near me truly and honestly concerns me - because he does not know me very well. How can you be obsessed with someone you barely even know??

I may never get the answer. I highly doubt I want to. I just want this whole ordeal to end peacefully, quietly - so I can move on with my life. Who knows how that will happen.

Jill Scott - Epiphany...




































My feelings, as told by my queen - Jill Scott...

Watching,
Watching as he took the holder off his shoulder
Fire in his eyes,hands getting bolder
Quiet,quiet
Growing excited
Dug him for his bank account,but really for
his private
Damn about a mindset
Really wasn't into that
Needed me some pleasing,jon looking real fat
Laidback was his foreplay
All that was needed,needed was some of that
Started simple
Massaging on my temple
Pinching on my mountain peaks
That a sisters into
I responded,"Mmmmm."
You like the sound,I like makin'it more
I fell for the rock and shore
Enough,he brought it close so I could really see
Up close he slid between my breast
Sweaty with lust and sweat

Rode Mt.Saint Scott 'til ooooo
Creamy lava landed on my skin and neck
Blended with my all day Chanel scent
This freaking was incredulent,decadent
Flip side,stomach meets sheets
He plows inside as if he's making beats
As if this year's harvest depended on it
Bendin'on it
Back on my back old fashioned is renewed
Red toenail polish on whitewalls
Documenting this freaking,ahhhhh
I must...
Remember...
To thank him...
Later.
No,no,no,
No,no,no
I take charge of ship
Moving with my back and my hips
Like my ancestors did
Speaking the Bantu, Ranga and Tonga??
But I've gotta stop all that to make it longer,
But it's too late
I put him to sleep
Curled all up, spasm all in his feet
Feeling all proud like I did something deep
Aint really nothin' it's the way that it be
North Philly sister reppin' hard like me

But why do I feel so empty?

In life, I've realized that women (and men) so often validate themselves by frivolous things such as sexual performance. We all the while forget that there is more to life than what you can do in bed. Ladies will try and keep a love interest around by giving in to his every sexual want and need, even though he may simply walk away when a new prospective partner appears. Men will try and downplay the inadequacies in their lives by pleasing a woman's every desire - surpassing those that others may be able to offer. In essence, he is still the same useless man he will be in the morning after, but all that is forgotten during the hours of ecstasy he brings when you decide you're leaving. As young men and women - we've all probably experienced such things in one form or another, and it's hard to separate what's real from what is perception. Ms. Scott takes every morsel of romance's bittersweet recipe and throws it in with a simple drum and symbol pattern to evoke what so many of us feel. It hurts to realize the truth. It stings to come to the climax, drift down gently - then land on a bed of thorns. The epiphany can be encountered in so many ways; she could be the "other woman," - realizing that he will never truly belong to her, no matter how hard she works at it. Or, she could be his wife - trying to compete for his attention from the other woman. She could simply be a one-night-stand, understanding that next weekend's man will get the same amount of effort put in - and still won't call her in the morning. The true question is - which one are you??

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

{{Archive: Pluck the Fruit and Taste the Pleasure}}









































Monday, March 16, 2009

Pluck the Fruit and Taste the Pleasure

||Zune Says:|| Ryan Leslie - Addiction

So - I've come to this truth - Joy and Pleasure cannot coexist.
Well, rarely they do.
Typically the source of pleasure is one that should not be -
one that causes some sort of strife, anguish, or simple annoyance in the life of the receiver.
It may seem joyous at one time or another, but as the "honeymoon effect" wears off, we are forced to feel the truth. This usually takes place after a crescendo or explosion of some sort, followed by a temporary feeling of euphoria.

Once such a truth is realized - we have the option of either letting go, moving on, or continuing the quest on this course to find true pleasure. This course will more than likely lead us on an alternating path of good feelings and confusion. During the state of confusion, the cause of this pleasure has the opportunity to manipulate the mind into remaining in the situation. After that subsides, there is a moment of clarity - but we are too stunned by manipulation to take heed.

Until that one day comes along when the pleasure source f*cks up and causes extreme turmoil for the subject. Then it's time to kick this habit to the curb. Forever.

Or until the need arises again...

Whichever comes first.

I thought of it while listening to a symphony piece in Music class today.
If I don't write these things down fast enough, some of the words get lost in translation. I know what I mean, lol - most of you will, too... Definitely open for interpretation - apply it how it fits.

I re-posted this because it's so reccurrent in our daily lives. I feel like when I'm off a certain situation, one of my friends start going through it, or vice-versa. At some point in that phase of our lives, we have to draw the conclusion that we cannot have our cake and eat it too - well at least, not all the time. If something makes you unhappy but feels good to you - you have to decide which of the two effects are more important to you. If you are willing to sacrifice your sanity for someone's time or company, you cannot complain or be upset when they fail you or cause you pain. I learned that the hard way. Eventually, though - I decided what I required from the situation, and took control of that part of my world. I refuse to stress over things that can be controlled. If I can change it - I should, and I will. And I have.


Now, if you'll excuse me - I have the urge to stop by Starbucks and get a lemon slice and an iced green tea. Every once in a while, I indulge. Don'tJudgeMe. Later!

((Image by Scott G. Brooks))

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

||She Did It Again?|| The Big Chop...




Sooo - all this time I spent rejuvenating and cultivating my hair again - and I got up and cut it off.


{{Tangent: One of the managers at work's kid may have H1N1 - oh no...}}


Anyway - I've been contemplating it for months now, and I finally decided to do it. All the stresses I've encountered in life lately have taken a toll on my hair - and although it may look healthy to everyone else - I just wasn't confident about it anymore. My ends were splitting, my curl pattern was off - and the blonde at the tips was stripping my hair.

So first - I decided to nourish my hair with a darker color - and I chose a nice auburn/red.
















My angry stubborn hair rejected the color after I went to treat and wash it a few days later, turning it into a lovely brownish tone.

A week after that, I was talking to my Mom about getting a cut, and she gave me the address for a salon where her co-worker went and got hers. Her co-worker's hair was past her shoulders, so if she trusted them to do her cut - I figured it was a sure bet.

I went to the salon with the idea that I was going to get a price quote and see what kind of styles they did. since my hair is unpermed, I had to make sure they could deal with my texture. When I walked in - neither of the stylists had perms, so I felt more confident in my choice. Both of them had mohawks - so I was still a bit afraid, lol.

Something in me said, "Just do it." So, after she played in my hair for a few minutes - she pulled out the shears and went at it. She also pulled out the electric shaver, which baffled me - but used it to quickly even out the back of my hair. It was in afro form, so I suppose it was more effective than scissors.

I was pleased with the end result...
















I forgot what it feels like to have no hair brushing the nape of my neck - it's so liberating! My head felt so light when I stepped out of the chair. I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror that day - I feel guilty of a little narcissism, but I couldn't help it.


{{Tangent - why do older people think it's okay to look over your shoulder onto your computer screen? What happened to ettiquete?}}

It was the first move to a fresh start. I'm still getting used to the single life, and the haircut actually made me put things into perspective. It's just hair - it will grow back. Just as easily as it was grown is as easy as it can be removed. Similar to my love life - as long as it took us to get to eight years (it felt like such a short time) - we dissolved so quickly. But time heals all wounds - just like time restores hair. It'll all be back - just maybe in a different form from the last time.

Let's wait and see what happens when I wash my hair and let it air dry this week. ((eek!))

Thursday, November 5, 2009

||11 Year-Old = Youngest Mother in - The World??||


I am not exactly surprised about this issue. Honestly, America and parts of Europe pretty much are one of the few countries that actually have structured laws set into place when it comes to statutory offenses and sex with "minors." Dig in...

((Via Bossip.com))

"

Kordeza Zhelyazkova, an 11 year old girl from Bulgaria, just gave birth to her daughter, making her the world’s youngest mother. Flip the hood for more on this rare story.

While Kordeza and the baby are healthy and in high spirits, Jeliazko, the 19 year old father of the child, now faces six years in jail for having sex with a minor. The father says that he was fearful and really scared when he found out Kordeza was pregnant. He says they didn’t plan to have sex or a baby although he fell in love with Kordeza the moment he laid eyes on her.

He rescued the eleven year old from bullies who were bothering her at school. After which Kordeza arranged to meet the 19 year old young man and asked him out on their first date. The father of the 19 year old says he thought the girl was 15 and didn’t tell him she was 11. Here’s what Kordeza has to say about being a mom:

‘It feels strange to be a mum and have a baby. I used to play with my toys but now she is my new toy. She is so beautiful, I love her. Violeta is the child and I must grow up. I am not going back to school – I am a mother now.’ "


According to NYDailyNews.com - Kordeza went into labor during her wedding - where she was marrying her 19 year-old boyfriend. The couple is from Bulgaria - which I know nothing about, but he will be serving a six-year sentence if charged for having sex with a minor. She got pregnant two weeks after her 11th birthday - which really throws me for a loop. The father says he thought she was 15 - I don't think that makes it much better. My sister just turned nine last month, and in two years - I just can't imagine a grown man (essentially - that's what he is) having sex with her, much less falling in love with her and getting her pregnant.


I cringe when I think about her future - no education, no knowledge of the real world - now she's stuck with a child when she's really and literally a child herself. When I was eleven years old, I was planning to dress alike with my friends at school, I was crying over my math homework that I just couldn't understand - I was still trying to figure out where a penis went.

Then I wake up, and I remember - in a lot of non-American societies, children having sex this young is a norm. Thirteen year-olds get sold/married off to much older men, far older than nineteen - and have babies by the time they're fourteen and fifteen. Who's to say that not having a child at eleven wasn't just a fluke for them? Most of those girls never go back to school, and they end up having more children - perpetuating the poverty and ignorance that plagues so many of our countries. I don't know their economic standings - but statistics have shown that poorer communities tend to have children at younger ages - so I doubt they are in the wealthy bracket.

Quite frankly, I think this is an issue simply because of its shock value. When the fifteen minutes are up, society will move on to the next oddity. I doubt anyone will follow up and see how life treats her and her family.

If she had birthed eight children, on the other hand - she would have a t.v. show by now...

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Been A Long Time...


My apologies for abandoning you guys for so long - it's been like two weeks! Had a couple minor glitches in life for a second - but I'm back. Got a new netbook to play with - so now I can blog from anywhere...

New posts will be coming on this evening - so stay tuned.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

||Wildwood Vol. 3||

||Wildwood Vol. 3||




Jessica:
If I freeze the teabag now - it'll be ready by nine - which gives me two hours to make the swelling go down before work. If all else fails, a little concealer will cover it up. It's not that bad, my last fight with Brent left a huge bruise from my elbow to my shoulder - stayed for a week. Good thing, I am the queen of home remedies - I've got a concoction for any illness or injury. Last year, when Nate's baby had colic, my herb mixture had her sleeping every night. I'm known as the herbal MacGuiver around my way - I can fix anyone. So, why can't I fix my life? I wake up, cook Brent his breakfast, do my online courses - pay bills, then head off to work. Every day is the same. One burn mark on his toast - and the whole plate is flying at my head.


When did it become like this?


He wasn't always so angry. When I met Brent, he was the epitome of a gentleman. Dinner cooked at my place, flowers every weekend - things were perfect for about a year. Then, we went and got married. My mom told me he was a keeper - and I felt the same way. We made it official at the courthouse, and the honeymoon ended before the papers were even stamped.


We got home, and he started complaining about the apartment. Week by week, he got more and more miserable. When he lost his job - it sent him over the top. One night, I came home exhausted, just needing to vent about work. Brent got angry - said he was tired of me bragging about being employed. I tried to apologize, but he was already worked up. I stood up to talk to him, and he struck me in my face - the first time a man ever hit me. Surprised, I greeted his slap with a punch to the nose - but was quickly overpowered. The fight lasted a whole thirty-minutes, but felt like only a second had passed. I lay in the couch that night and cried, but wouldn't close my eyes out of sheer fear of what could happen next.


The morning after as I went to get ready for work, I caught my eye in the bathroom mirror. The purple, greenish bruise went from my eye to my cheek. I froze a spoon while I got dressed, and pressed it to my face. When the purple faded, I took a warm green tea bag and soothed some of the green irritation down. I figured the swelling would be gone when I reached work - but the blatant stares from my co-workers and customers proved me wrong. 'The car door slammed on me-' lame, but it was all I could come up with. I know my co-workers see right through my excuses, but I refuse to admit my truth. I'm ashamed that I've let it get this far - and acknowledging it is just going to make it harder to bear.


I take customers quickly - putting my head up to greet them and periodically to chat. It's hard to be like this and work, but as a manager - calling out sick is not an option. Aside from the occasional stare, I've grown used to covering up my bruises. Being uncomfortable here at work is better than being hurt at home, so I dig myself into the job - seeking perfection in everything. When my shift ends, I drive home slowly - afraid of what new trouble waits for me at home.






Maya:


Today's one of those shifts when I get all the weirdos in my line. Usually it's funny, but some of them really try to push my buttons. I'd like to think I'm very good at keeping my cool with customers, though - so I look at every one as an adventure. It's fun to see what each one will be like. Sometimes it's hard to communicate with them, but no matter what - I always give them eye contact. I believe everyone deserves that respect. I make sure I look them in the eye, and wish them a good day. No one can ever say I've been rude to them, because I refuse to be the stereotypical store clerk. I've been to those stores where the clerks disregard the customers, throw their items around - then ask for their money. As a customer, you end up leaving feeling robbed sometimes - like you're spending your money against your will. I try and make everyone's shopping experience a pleasant one, and I'll ignore all the rudeness and disrespect I receve in return. To a certain extent, anyway.


I wore my afro out today, because I was in an earthy mood. I had on a Bob Marley top with a "rasta" colored skirt, you know - a cute afrocentric outfit. Quite a few customers complimented me on my wooden jewelry and woven earrings - so I feel pretty good about my fashion choice. It's hard to find nice clothes that are practical for work and school. Anyway, an older white woman steps up, and I greet her with my hello and a smile, she barely acknowledges my presence, and continues her phone conversation. I put my head down slightly to scan a difficult item, and a wisp of hair falls over my eye. Almost immediately, the lady shoots her head up and looks at me, as I subconsciously tuck the hair behind my ear. As I continue scanning, she snaps at me, "Shouldn't you be wearing a hairnet or something?" I didn't understand, so I asked her to repeat herself. "Shouldn't you have on a hat? I don't want your dirty hair falling into my food and things." Considering that I washed my hair this morning, I was slightly put off, but still confused. "Look, I don't want you picking out your 'fro' over my food. Here's my card, I can make you an appointment for a straightening on Wednesday. I'll even give you a discount - perms are kind of pricey for your people's kind of hair." At this point, I am reeling - first she was rude to me, now she's insulting me?


I start wrapping up my hair with a scrunchie. I'll show her something about my people. "Listen lady, let me tell you something. My father -" I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder and hear Jessica whisper in my ear, "Don't let her do it to you, honey. You've got thirty minutes left in your shift. Let her and her misery go." I take her business card and gently tear it in half. I staple it to her receipt, hand her the bag and tell her - "I won't be needing your services, ma'am, thank you. You have a great day." It hurts, but I throw a smile at her. Embarrassed, she snatches the bag, takes her receipt and with a red face, walks away quickly. Jessica leans in and says, "Next time you get ignorance like that - ask yourself - what would Bob Marley do?" I told her he'd light a big blunt, and puff the smoke in her face. We both laughed until the next customer appeared.


My customer that comes next keeps staring at me throughout the transaction. Slightly uncomfortable, I move my head behind the screen ever so gently. I try to hide, but he moves his head to follow me. I smile at him, he quickly glances down. I look at the screen - he starts to look at me. Is this some sort of game? "Sir," I say - he jumps back, startled. "Here's your receipt, have a good day." I give him a quick wink, and his shaky hand takes the slip of paper and hurries out the door. I smile to myself and take my drawer out the register. I've got to count my money before I run out of here for school, and boy, it's been a long day. As I walk to the office, I check my reflection in the window - hair still looks decent. Out the corner of my eye, I see a figure standing outside. I look over just in time to catch the shaky customer man scurrying away into his car. Wow - another interesting day at Wildwood.







George:
I could send my personal assistant into the store to run my errands, but I go in for one reason only no. wadays - Maya. When I first began shopping here, it was simple in and out, light purchases between the weekends - until she started working here. She is so - beautiful, I can just feel her aura. Her energy radiates and shines on everything around her - even in this mundane store. Her smile is just perfect; pink lips encircling her white teeth, with dimples by her glistening brown eyes. I am enamored, fascinated with her - infatuated even. She has no idea, but I see the way she smiles at me - it's special, different from the others.

I get shy when I'm around her, yet I can't take my eyes off her face. She plays a little looking game with me; a sort of hide-and-seek. Oh, I hope I win. She smiles - yes! What do I do next? I didn't expect such a reaction. Oh dear, she's going to think I'm some sort of moron. I've got to go before I make things worse. I take my receipt, thank her, and with my tail between my legs - I rush out of the door.

But I've got to see her face one more time. I watch her as she preens modestly through the window's reflection. Her soft, curly hair shakes gently, lightly as she moves. How long have I been standing here? She spots me - I flee to my car, ashamed of the fact that I must run from the one I admire. The day will come when I find the courage to speak to her. It must be soon, for I am already longing to hear her gentle voice again.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

||Good Hair - the Paradox||



So - I have been inspired by Chris Rock's new documentary - "Good Hair" that's coming out this weekend. Of course, we have had this discussion before, but watching the View today made me realize - that there are a lot of people who don't quite understand the issue of "Black" hair. Barbara Walters brought out the fact that she always thought Black people got perms because they wanted to look like White people. I found that intriguing. So I set out to do some quick research on the matter, and of course - opinions will vary greatly. I just want to know where our hair culture is coming from, where it is now, and what's to come in the future. Let's start with history. ((I think the info is best left in its original form, so I will simply quote and include my thoughts as well)) It all started in Africa...

Via "
A Beautiful Hair Affair":

"In the early fifteenth century, hair served as a carrier of messages in most West African societies (Tharps and Byrd 2001) These Africans--citizens from the Mende, Wolof, Yoruba, and Mandingo were all transported to the New World on slave ships. Within these communities, hair often communicated age, marital status, ethnic identity, religion, wealth, and rank in the community. Hairstyles could also be used to identify a geographic region. For example, in the Wolof culture of Senegal, young girls partially shaved their hair as an outward symbol that they were not courting (1). And the Karamo people of Nigeria, for example, were recognized for their unique coiffure a shaved head with a single tuft of hair left on top. (1) Likewise, widowed women would stop attending to their hair during their period of mourning so they wouldn't look attractive to other men. And as far as community leaders were concerned, they donned elaborate hairstyles. And the royalty would often wear a hat or headpiece, as a symbol of their stature."


Timeline of Transition and Change...

Via
Long Hair Care Forum:

"1444: Europeans trade on the West Coast of Africa with people wearing elaborate hairstyles, including locks, plaits and twists.

1619: First slaves brought to Jamestown; African language, culture and grooming tradition begin to disappear.

1700s: Calling black hair "wool," many whites dehumanize slaves. The more elaborate African hairstyles cannot be retained.



1800s: Without the combs and herbal treatments used in Africa, slaves rely on bacon grease, butter and kerosene as hair conditioners and cleaners. Lighter-skinned, straight-haired slaves command higher prices at auction than darker, more kinky-haired ones. Internalizing color consciousness, blacks promote the idea that blacks with dark skin and kinky hair are less attractive and worth less.


1865: Slavery ends, but whites look upon black women who style their hair like white women as well-adjusted. "Good" hair becomes a prerequisite for entering certain schools, churches, social groups and business networks.


1880: Metal hot combs, invented in 1845 by the French, are readily available in the United States. The comb is heated and used to press and temporarily straighten kinky hair.

1900s: Madame C.J. Walker develops a range of hair-care products for black hair. She popularizes the press-and-curl style. Some criticize her for encouraging black women to look white.


1910: Walker is featured in the Guinness Book of Records as the first American female self-made millionaire.


1920s: Marcus Garvey, a black nationalist, urges followers to embrace their natural hair and reclaim an African aesthetic.


1954: George E. Johnson launches the Johnson Products Company with Ultra Wave Hair Culture, a "permanent" hair straightener for men that can be applied at home. A women's chemical straightener follows.


1963: Actress Cicely Tyson wears cornrows on the television drama "East Side/West Side."


1966: Model Pat Evans defies both black and white standards of beauty and shaves her head.
1968: Actress Diahann Carroll is the first black woman to star in a television network series, "Julia." She is a darker version of the all-American girl, with straightened, curled hair.

1970: Angela Davis becomes an icon of Black Power with her large Afro.

1971: Melba Tolliver is fired from the ABC affiliate in New York for wearing an Afro while covering Tricia Nixon's wedding.


1977: The Jheri curl explodes on the black hair scene. Billed as a curly perm for blacks, the ultra moist hairstyle lasts through the 1980s.


1979: Braids and beads cross the color line when Bo Derek appears with cornrows in the movie "10."


1980: Model-actress Grace Jones sports her trademark flattop fade.

1988: Spike Lee exposes the good hair/bad hair light-skinned/dark-skinned schism in black America in his movie "School Daze."

1990: "Sisters love the weave," Essence magazine declares. A variety of natural styles and locks also become more accepted.


1997: Singer Erykah Badu poses on the cover of her debut album "Baduizm" with her head wrapped, ushering in an eclectic brand of Afrocentrism.


1998: Carson Inc., creator of Dark & Lovely and Magic Shave for black men, acquires black-owned beauty company Johnson Products of Chicago in 1998. L'Oreal purchases Carson two years later and merges it with Soft Sheen.


1999: People magazine names lock-topped Grammy award-winning artist Lauryn Hill one of its 50 Most Beautiful People.

2001: Rapper Lil' Kim wears a platinum blonde weave, while singer Macy Gray sports a new-school Afro. Some black women perm, some press, others go with natural twists, braids and locks.

2006: Black hair care is a billion-dollar industry. "













































I was drawn to the issue because I'm going through a transitional period with my hair right now. I have been perm-free for three years, but I have battled with what exactly I want to do with it. I've done it all - the first few months after I chopped my permed hair off, I texturized it. I didn't like it, so I cut it off again. I weaved it for a while, then I decided to let my soul glow and leave the fro out. Then I was flat-ironing it daily for the straight look, but humidity was killing me! So I went back to weaves. The cycle continues.
Hearing Barbara Walter's statement struck a chord for me. I realize, a lot of my white counterparts don't really understand the issues that we have as "ethnic people" with our hair. I have a co-worker who will come to work with wet hair, and by the time an hour passes, it's dry and in a cute bob. I could never try that. I used to - but I'd have to put so many products in it before I walked out of the house - it was too much of a hassle. I have white people who like to touch my hair, some who say "I wish my hair would do that," of course, we know they don't - but it's funny nonetheless. Then again, I can't say they wouldn't want kinky hair - cuz 'reverse perms' are raging in Japan right now.















To answer Barbara's statement in my own words - straightening my hair was never about trying to look white. In elementary school, there were about two white kids that I could count. Nobody paid attention to the fact that they were white, and we damn sure weren't worried about their hair. I asked my Mom for a perm at the age of nine - because I was tired of the hour that it took in the morning to wet my hair, comb it out - plait it up and put hairclips in it. I wanted to be able to comb it into a nice, simple ponytail and go about my business.
My desire for a solution ended up being the problem. Once I got comfortable with having my hair in a ponytail - that's all I would do. Eventually my hair broke off, and was never quite the same again. Perms do that sometimes. That being said, Barbara continued on to say that she didn't understand why we got perms, knowing that they burn our scalps and whatnot. I couldn't help but sense a tinge of ignorance, because Barbara is white - and she should know and understand that white people get perms, too! Curly-haired white people often get straight perms because their hair is unmanageable. Straight-haired white people often get "curly perms" to add body to their hair. Does she not know this? It has little to do with them wanting to look Black, either. It's mostly about style preference and manageability.

I know there are people who are self-conscious about their hair, and that's where the word "Good Hair" resurfaces. I remember going to a former friend's mother's salon to get my hair done for prom (after going natural). She was washing my hair in the sink and said to me, "Girl, you've got good hair - why were you getting perms?" I could never understand this, but now as I sit back and analyze - I get it now. People consider "good hair" as those with certain textures. Hair that waves up when brushed wet, hair that has a certain curl pattern when it dries, hair with sheen to it. My parents blessed us with "soft hair," as I like to call it. It's somewhat course, but soft enough to comb through and apply water to. Some people have extremely course hair that is impermeable to water, absorbs all oils and products, and is super hard to comb. Those people are considered to have "bad hair," or "nappy hair." I think it's just misunderstood hair. Anyone with the proper knowledge can transform their hair into the way they want it. Whether you perm or keep it natural, good hair is hair that is healthy. Good hair is moisturized, well maintained, and happy. It doesn't have to be long or wavy to be good. I have seen some beautiful afros from women with course hair, they have mastered the art of taking care of it.


My household is full of afros. My parents rocked them back in the day in Jamaica, too. Mom used to tell me stories about how she wrecked the good forks at home, because they couldn't afford a hot-comb. She used to heat the fork on the stove and curl her hair for special occasions, and the forks would get bent sometimes. Grandma would have a fit! And she didn't do it to look like any of the white girls in school - she did it to look cute and be in style. This was back in the day when Carol's Daughter and Mixed Chicks didn't exist, so women were forced to make due with what they had. Now that we are blessed with products that can help us - I see a natural revolution starting all over again. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't knock perms. When properly taken care of, women can have healthy, long, beautiful hair with the aid of relaxers. I spent a large majority of my teenaged life with perms, and my hair was great. I think that the wear and tear of a busy life, combined with the perm is what truly wrecked my hair back then. I know girls who had wash and sets weekly, deep conditioning every month, all that - and their hair looked great. I was a tomboy - I had soccer practice, choir rehearsal, work, and school to deal with - I didn't have time for that! Going natural was as simple as getting my hair braided every two weeks, or rockin my afro or ponytail. Why didn't I think of this sooner?



The emergence of weaves was a breakthrough in my world. It was taboo initially to wear, especially in high school. Girls would try to pretend the hair belonged to them, until it got down to it, and the guys would feel for tracks, or the wind would blow - or a fight would break out and extensions would be on the floor. Eventually, though - it became the norm - who could get the best weave? Pound hair is still the best kept secret. Confidential locations where you can't see inside - custom made colors that are hand-sewn on site. Women pay top dollar for these luxuries, just to look good. I can't lie - I feed into these things on occasion. I'll pay $60 for some hair that'll last me a few months. Some people spend money on plastic surgery and botox - us young black women pay top dollar for hair. It's a societal thing, I suppose - but then again - didn't Paris Hilton make weaves the standard for young white women? In essence, it's the same story - different books.


In any form, the ultimate goal should be healthy hair - in order to add to one's beauty. I think people obsess over hair, because they are concerned with how they look too much. The first time I had to cut my hair short - I was devastated. I thought I wasn't going to look good, because my hair was about an inch long. I got over it in about an hour. If everyone could encourage each other, uplift each other, and bring positive vibes to one another - we wouldn't concern ourselves so much about the little things - like hair. You can have the longest, silkiest, strongest hair in the world, but a negative attitude and narcissistic tendencies will trump that - and you still won't get the attention you seek. Confidence is key, no matter what kind of hair you have. If we'd never seen a before picture of Amber rose - would we know what texture her hair was? No! We'd just know she's hot. And she is. If your head is held high - your hair comes second. I'm going to find out the showing information for the "Good Hair" documentary, so I can go further into the topic.

Nap time (No pun intended) for now - this insomniac is exhausted!!