Category Archives: Thoughts raging in my head

Last week I silently observed the Lean In movement unfold and national reaction to it. I thought there was going to be a feminist/mommy war implosion! After x millennia walking this earth, women still can’t agree, even amongst themselves, what the model for female accomplishment looks like. With a great deal of hand-wringing, high achieving women decry the dearth of women at the CEO level, while others mourn the want of stay-at-home mothers wholly devoted to churning out well-mannered drones to serve society. There is one camp that says that we must all choose for ourselves what “success” is, and that seems to be the most rational line of thinking as far as I’m concerned.

Because me? I’m just trying to get by the best way I know how. I didn’t go to university and spend $60,000 (before interest) on a degree to sit at home and clean up kid poo, but sometimes you find yourself on an unanticipated one-way rabbit trail. The faster you power through it and get back on track, the better you’ll feel – or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. It helps me get by.

The Lean In movement is all about changing that thinking. On its surface, it’s pretty inspirational stuff; like Girl Power all grown up and on steroids. Sheryl Sandberg penned a book under the same title and encourages women to get out there and push through glass ceilings and fight their way to the top of their career path. I confess that I haven’t read the book, so I can’t say for certainty what she has to say about lean in options for women like me – who have part time jobs and work at home full time – but from the interviews, I didn’t see much. It seems like the attention is focused on women who have chosen careers at the expense of family, which is fine if that’s what a woman wants.

Where I think Lean In misses the mark is that it glosses over some important and unavoidable factors, such as the presence and reactions of men, female biology, and other women. In order for a woman to be ‘successful’ she will have to overpower all these things, otherwise she will end up tipping over when her life spins out of balance.

In order to lean in successfully, we have to start fostering girls’ interests in non-traditional roles early. Sandberg made a statement during her segment on the Katie Curic show that I couldn’t help but scoff at.

“If you decided to take time off to become a mom, don’t apologize for that,” she pleaded. “Go into that interview confidently and explain that decision. Being a stay at home mom is truly the hardest thing a person can do. You have to learn time management skills, planning, forecasting, and managing groups of (unruly) people.”

Yes, well every stay-at-home mom and I know that, but a recruiter/employer either doesn’t know or don’t care. How do I know that? Because I was that 20-something ‘recruiter’ throwing SAHM resumes in the trash under the direction of my manager.

“The thing about working moms is that their kid is always going to get sick or they’re going to have a recital to go to,” said my boss at a hiring firm once.

“Okay…well what about this woman,” I asked. “She’s explained the gap in her employment and listed that she’s been at home for 15 years and is ready to re-enter the work force.”

“15 years!” he choked. “Can you imagine how much her skills have atrophied? Put it in the trash, Malaka.”

And so that’s what I did. Every time I saw a gap in a woman’s resume – or made a phone call to get her to explain the gap during which time she revealed that she was a SAHM – I put her resume in the trash as I conditioned to do. It didn’t matter if her degree or previous expertise was in a desired skill set. Those skill sets had presumably ‘atrophied’. How is such a woman going to walk into an interview confidently if she couldn’t even GET to the interview stage?

One of the reasons I love being a Black woman is that we are virtually invisible to White men. White men will say things around Black women that they would never say in the presence of White women, and vice versa, I’m sure. Being invisible is how you learn things. Do you doubt it? How do you think slaves learned to read on the plantation? By fanning the Massa’s chil’ren during tutoring time and sitting in on lessons in the big house! I digress.

So I was sitting at the receptionist’s chair one afternoon and the manager for an IT recruiting firm walks into the hallway. He sees Chris, one of his recruiters, and stops him to see how filling a requisition was going.

“I’ve got this great candidate, but I’m not so sure about her,” said Chris.

“Oh yeah? Why?” asks Tom (the manager).

“Well we got to talking and she mentioned that she just got engaged…”

Tom cut him off.

“Oh that’s the kiss of death!” he nearly spat. “All she’s gonna be doing is planning her wedding on company time, surfin’ the internet and taking long lunch breaks to look for swatches. I never hire a girl for an IT position if she’s got an engagement ring on her finger.”

As if seeing me for the first time, he turned to smile at me and the two of them left for lunch together. I learned several things that day. They should be obvious to you as a reader as well.

If we want women to nudge their way to the top, we’ll have to learn early on that we’re not going to get there with so-called “soft skills.” We will have to develop hard to find skills with unquestionable value. That means more girls in math and sciences. A woman with a degree in marketing is darn near disposable. My degree is in PR. Think anyone is banging down my door to get me into the hot seat? I’m an excellent employee, but do companies neeeeed my degree? Short answer: nope. If I had gone to school to be a surgeon, that would be a different story.

Here is the conclusion I’ve come to: If a woman wants to have it “all”, she’s going to have to make it all herself. Unlike men, are lives are set by a biological alarm clock at virtually every stage. Menstrual cycles, windows conceiving and birthing, menopause…all these things affect when we can do what we want to do. That’s why I believe women entrepreneurship is so vital if you want to be a working mom. You have to set your own tone and pace, otherwise you run the risk of tipping over into despair while attempting to lean your way to the top in order to fulfill some other person’s vision for their company.

 My concern about these fad feminist movements is that because they are driven by women of privilege and means, they tend to drown out the voices of the masses. We are the mainstream, but because we don’t have access to national platforms like the Sheryl Sandbergs and Marissa Mayers do, it is accepted that they speak for and behalf of the majority of women. These women are the exception, not the rule. I believe that their messaging is adding another layer of already rife discontent within the female culture in this country, although I’m sure it is not their intent. That discontent is the ‘tipping over’ I’ve been referring to, which ultimately can lead to regret. The fact is, they live in a different world than the majority of us, and in many ways are indeed out of touch.

But by all means, lean in ladies! Just calculate the momentum with which you do so.

Get your coffee. I want to hear what you think. ↓

12-12-12. It’s kind of sad looking at that number when you think about it. Today’s date has forced me to take a hard look at my own mortality and fragility. Unless you’ve discovered the fountain of eternal life or plan to freeze and unthaw yourself until the next century, none of us will ever see this date or a repetition of its sort again.

That’s not what I thought about when I woke up this morning, however. This morning I was overflowing with a huge sense of gratitude for how far I’ve come since this date 8 years ago. As only a few who are very close to me may people remember, this is the date I went into the hospital with preeclampsia. I thought this was the date that either my unborn daughter, I, or both of us would die.

December 12^th, 2004 was a dreary winter’s day, much like today. The sun peaked out whenever it could, but it was cloudy for the most part. I stumbled into Northside Hospital, trying desperately to feign composure and control until I was finally allowed to collapse into a narrow hospital bed in room LH17.

I remember it all very well. My heart was flooded with despair, hopelessness, and suppressed for the man who had landed me in that room 2 months too early with his vitriol and petty games. However as I sit typing today, I’m amazed at how so much despondency and hopelessness has become nothing but a memory – a pure memory – and has lost all of its sting. Time really does heal all things, if you sprinkle a little forgiveness on it.

2012 for me has been a benchmark year for me as far as spiritual growth and development are concerned. It was this year that I that I not only learned about power the of forgiveness, but felt it also. I’ve spent the last 8 years as a very angry person; though not in the sense that you might assume. I never made it a priority to seek and mete out revenge against people whom had done me some sort of slight (it’s never been in my nature to do that), but I did carry around negative feelings for people and events for a long time. Well, those feelings were really only directed at only person in particular.

My friend Caroline said the words that finally set me free.

“You’re giving way too much energy to this individual,” she said. “The thing that you focus your energy on is the thing that controls your life. Is this person worthy of directing your life?”

It was so true. Almost everything I had done, even if the results were positive, were in direct cause towards the hatred I felt for this person.

If I went to work, it was to prove that I didn’t need their financial support.

If I hugged my husband, it was an effort to strengthen my marriage that this person had said he would attempt to come between if given the opportunity.

Etcetera, etcetera.

When I stopped feeding so much energy to my negative thoughts surrounding this person, and shifted my thinking into not even thinking about them at all, I finally got free. It was a long, arduous process, and a journey that began in my soul on this very day 8 years ago.

This Saturday we will celebrate Nadjah’s 8^th birthday doing all the things she loves best. She’ll be shining of stage in her school play and eating cake on princess plates afterward. She’ll be surrounded by the love of her family best friends. It’s a complete turnabout from the brokenhearted womb I carried her in for 7 months.

When I woke up in severe pain and panic that Sunday morning on 12-12-04, I never imagined our lives could have been this good on 12-12-12. I’m grateful.

*Does this day hold any special significance for you? What are you going to do to commemorate this day? Some people are getting married, some are busy being born (congrats to Nana on becoming an auntie again on today) and others will be boozing it up; like boozers need a reason to drink anyways.  *cough* A-DUB! *cough*

I trust that the Ghanaian elections are close enough that this post will not sway one voter one way or another. The candidates have all made their speeches, presented their proposals, and the die-hard party faithful for CPP, PPP, NDC, NPP and Ayariga will turn up to vote as they always have: along party lines.

As an interested observer who does not have the right to vote in Ghana (yet), I want to throw my support behind one candidate in particular – and that’s John Dramani Mahama.

Just saying his name gives me a passion fueled panic attack.

John Mahama was the Vice President and assumed the presidency after President Atta Mills died in July of this year. Mills was a good man, who had the nation’s best interest at heart. He just didn’t have enough vision to propel the country forward. He is the first sitting president to die in office. As Ghanaians have always done when faced with the unknown, we conducted ourselves with dignity and grace and swore in a newly minted leader. It was like trading in a reliable 1963 VW Beetle for a shiny new Range Rover. Were we sad to see President Mills die in what was ostensibly the prime of his life? Sure! But we got a way hotter president in return.

And that folks, is why I’m hoping President Mahama will be (re)elected this Friday. Not because he has a vision; not because he has a plan; not because he even has something that even looks remotely like a plan…but because he is smoking, smoldering hot.

I’ve said before that if Mr. Mahama could only harness the power of all that magnetic allure and transform it into sound socio-economic policy, Ghana would be competing with the West for space on the moon. However as it stands, he and his party are offering the same old tired solutions and promises to the Ghanaian citizenry.

Let me be clear: this post is in no way an endorsement for NDC. The (P)NDC has a violent history that has done Ghana’s economy tremendous harm. It has long been run by thugs and sycophants who take pleasure in looting the national coffers and destroying the lives of others. Not many of us will forget Rawlings’ firing squad and the brutality he meted out against civilians simply because they had the fortune to have “two toilets” in their house. NDC sucks as far as I’m concerned. However, I AM saying that John Mahama, who has been blessed with extraordinary hotness, has a unique chance to change both his party’s and his country’s image through that mega-watt smile and authoritative countenance.

This is a chance for Ghana to usher in a new era of glamour and change history for the better. If Mr. Mahama would seize the opportunity to introduce bold changes in the nation, it would a dream come true that I never thought I’d see in my own life time.

If my iPhone is telling me correctly, we’re about to enter the year 2013. However, a quick promenade through any major city in the country belies that fact. We are still relying on architectural structures dating back to pre-colonial times. Our water and sewage treatment systems (where they exist) are dilapidated. Raw sewage literally seeps through the land, with massive open gutters carrying feces, plastic, the occasional dead dog and slime throughout parts of the metropolis. Since the advent of sachet water, you would have thought that some government official would have considered the environmental impact of all that plastic littering the land, given Ghanaians’ penchant for poor waste disposal. One of the saddest things I’ve seen in Ghana was the veritable landfill that has sprung up on a mountain slope in Larteh. Blink and you’d miss it as your car bumps along. However I got a good view of it when my dad stopped to buy palm wine. I don’t think the villagers are happy at all with having their land literally crapped on, but their elders and government officials have taken their bribes and allowed it to be so.

John Mahama can change all that by leading by example. If he would only emphasize a “Healthy Ghana” portion in his “Better Ghana” agenda, a lot of our problems would be solved. A lot of diseases we grapple with could be diminished, even eradicated if only we would update our structures. For example, we know mosquitoes –who bring malaria – need standing water to breed. Why then are their clouds of mosquitoes dancing on pools of water where people live and work?  Is the idea so far-fetched?

And how about introducing some standards in, oh…I dunno…every industry? Dozens of children are poisoned and die each year because they mistake kerosene for a soft drink. How do they do that, you ask? By drinking kerosene from a Coke or Fanta bottle that some adult poured in there. I can’t drive up to my local Shell gas station with an empty jelly jar expecting petrol to be inserted inside. I’ll be flatly refused service. Neither should Clement Bimpong in Any Village, GH be able to approach his local kerosene seller expecting to top up in his reused Voltic bottle. We can introduce (or impose) standards, and we should.

These things are not hard. You know what is hard? Getting Ghanaians jobs. You know why? Because our government has no faith in us. Do you know how many Ghanaians graduated this year alone with degrees in architecture all over the world? Neither do I, but I know three who graduated with honors in that discipline. Why haven’t they or their counterparts been tapped to bid on major building projects in the country? I believe it’s because virtually all of our politicians, regardless of party affiliation are so self- loathing, lazy and stingy that they project that negative self-image on others. They can’t believe that any else has Ghana’s development at heart because they themselves don’t have Ghana’s development at heart. All boats rise with the tide.

Jobs are sexy, Mr. Mahama. Better than free education is the freedom to choose where your kids go to school. Give Ghanaians purchasing parity by giving us our land back. Have you ever seen a group of Ghanaians marauding the rice paddies of China with machine guns? Why then are throngs of Chinese thugs guarding cocoa farms with rifles, preventing farmers from working their ancestral lands? Because a chief got a crate of beer and a Kia in exchange? Arrest the chief for defrauding the nation if you need to! Let me tell you something about the Chinese sir: they are like a bad rash on your bum that never goes away. You’re too hot to go to bed with that sort of blemish on your smokin’, smolderin’, fine body.

Forgive me. I got caught up in a vision.

Like I was saying, Ghana has a real shot of making a name for itself beyond verbose prose and pretty tourism pictures. Get our beaches cleaned up and remove the toxic waste. Start reversing the damage that has been done to our forests and rivers now, before the effects are irreversible. What we put into the food chain is what we eventually feed ourselves. Invest in science and technology for Ghanaians by Ghanaians. Be the first president to show that you actually, truly believe in the intelligence of your people. I know that politicians take us all for fools, but really we’re not. We’ve been waiting for transfigurative leadership and I think that you could be it. I heard you speak on local television here in Atlanta. I was beyond impressed. Your tenor voice was auditory ecstasy. Maybe in a different time, under different circumstances, you could have read the phone book to me as I snuggled my head into your broad, heaving chest…

Focus, Malaka. Focus!

Do you know what poverty is? It isn’t living in mud huts or not having a car. Poverty is the inability to use what you have to get what you need. No matter who wins the election on Friday, we need to hold them accountable to the promises they’ve made. None of the promises are so extra-ordinary or compelling that they are beyond reach outside of the office of the president.

And no matter who wins, I will forever remain in the consortium of the Mahama Gurlz.

     Africa, a continent of chained Form Fives
By Field Ruwe

We, Form Fives a.k.a. Grade 12s are a people chained, facing the lit walls in the darkness of our own country. On the walls we watch our fantasies and desires. We see ourselves with a lot of money, one day living in luxury—in a mansion. We see ourselves fulfilling our dreams of becoming a doctor, lawyer, economist, entrepreneur, but the images on the wall are the closest we get to reality.
We are in millions—all chained, facing the walls of our country. The light on which our fantasies and desires are projected comes from behind—from our captors, the rulers; the men who have chained us for years. They are living their dreams—real dreams. They eat, drink and laugh. We can hear them, but we can’t turn our heads, lest we are chastened. So, we keep watching the images on the wall, and keep thinking what we see is real.
Callous political rulers are the ones flashing the light on the wall in which we are perceiving reality; they are casting imperfect images in our minds so that we see ourselves who we are not.
One of us breaks the chains. He looks back and realizes the images on the wall that dictated our perception of reality are non-realistic. After his eyes adjust to the light he begins to see who we really are; slaves of rulers. When he looks carefully in the light he can see rulers casting images on the wall and recognizes them as the source of the falsehoods. Now he is aware of reality and truth, and is conscious of its goodness.
What then is this newfound reality and truth? It is the awareness of his lack of knowledge and understanding. He now knows that when he was chained facing the wall the power of knowledge eluded him; that he was ignorant of the Forms of Goodness behind him; that his human mind was not entirely enlightened; that he was semi-literate and therefore did not know what was happening in the world.
He sneaks out and follows the light. We, his fellow Form Fives, in our millions, laugh at him for discarding the images on the wall. We ridicule him. Some of us hope the captors severely punish him and send him back in chains. We do not want to share his enlightenment because we are content with the images on the wall, cast by politicians.
He continues to follow the light. He stops and looks back at us, millions of Form Fives, facing the wall. He now knows we do not know what he is seeing. We lack the power of the knowledge he has just attained because political rulers keep flashing imperfect images on the wall.
As he walks past the rulers he can over hear them:
“Keep them chained and in the dark,” one voice says.
“Yes, keep them damn,” another says. “They like what they are seeing. Show them the future—pockets full, houses great, food plenty—show them paradise. They will believe it is real and it is theirs.”
He stops and listens.
“As long as they are ignorant, we’re fine.”
The above allegory represents the power of knowledge. It shows a path to complete awareness that for many years has dodged our country. It illustrates a unique way by which knowledge plays an important part in our own existence, and how a learned people can become a force to reckon with in this world of advancement.
The Form Five who broke the chains and escaped became thoroughly educated and more capable of playing his part as man of thought and man of action. With a college education he was able to see the real light and reach the ultimate stage of thought, that of “understanding.”
He now understood why Africa had come this far and gone nowhere. Why Africa was at the totem pole of advancement, hopelessly watching its people die of hunger and disease. Why people were still living in huts and drawing water from the river in the rural areas.
He understood why the economies, on a continent with abundant mineral and natural resources, was in scraps and why IMF, World Bank, the Chinese government, and foreign investors, continued to hold Africa hostage. He now saw why the country’s wealth was the advantage of the same few, the same corrupt, and the same unjust.
He understood why: It was because Africa was full of chained Form Fives—chained by deceitful rulers who were masters of fiction. They had chained millions of Form Fives and made them watch the dazzling images of illusion. They used images as products of propaganda and tools of oppression.
When he understood all this, he saw why and how he had lived in the darkness of our country for years, and felt sorry for those he had left behind, the millions of Form Fives.
He recalled the experience he had shared with them and now understood that when he and other Form Fives showed how enlightened they were; when they spoke fairly “good” Form V English, became rulers, worked in established institutions, pretended to be journalists, radio and TV hosts, accountants, salesmen, lied they were lawyers, doctors, and rubbed shoulders with academics and those in the corridors of power, they were aping the imperfect images on the wall.
He stood in the middle of the African street and watched as thousands of Form Fives hit the pavement with torn files and battered briefcases in search of jobs. He watched them enter buildings and walk out frustrated, and understood why many were prone to political manipulation, bribery, corruption, and why some became dangerous criminals, merchandise peddlers, drug addicts and traffickers.
Because education had turned him into a thinker, he was able to examine the negative effects of little education. He was able to draw on his enriched logic to convince the chained Form Fives to break free. He was going to go back and tell them that education was a key to freedom; that without education they shall ever remain splendid prisoners of the rulers.
He was going to tell them to turn their heads and look at their captors in the eye and tell them to stop flashing falsehoods. But because he understood the source of the problem, he chose to go after the rulers; one ruler in particular—the African president. The African president bares total responsibility for running a country with millions of chained Form Fives.
He has lamentably failed to make education a number one priority of his presidency. He has failed to understand that education is the cause of advancement and the source of prosperity; that it is the ultimate object of happiness; that it is the only effective strategy in poverty and disease reduction.
He has failed to devise an education policy that enables a larger chunk of Form Fives and those below them to reach the highest stage of cognition.
Africa today is a Third World continent not because it is poor, but because it is uneducated, unenlightened—dull. Yes, an African president presides over a continent with some of the worst academic achievement levels in the world; the worst mathematical and reading skills, according to recent UNESCO statistics. He is fully aware of such appalling and shameful statistics and yet he chooses to do absolutely nothing about it.
He, like his predecessors, has failed to resuscitate an education system that has been dipping since independence. He would rather cling to a system inherited from the colonialist, one designed for the formal sector and public administration; an archaic system that has left Africa with millions of Form Fives.
Most of the Form Fives have low achievement levels and therefore low core competences. They can’t communicate effectively; organize, analyze, and evaluate information. They can’t use science and technology responsibly and effectively, and yet some of them are cabinet ministers, members of parliament, ambassadors and high commissioners, board members, project leaders, and managing directors, most of who are appointed by the president.
In the boardroom with local and international experts they contribute diddlysquat—zero. IMF, World Bank, foreign diplomats, foreign investors, love dealing with them because they make their work easier. Behind our backs there are often whispers of low IQs.
What the African president fails to understand is that today’s leadership is a combination of traits, qualities and abilities backed by a good education. The engagement of such academically impoverished leaders is one of the major reasons we are not going anywhere as a continent—we take one step forward and ten steps backward.
With millions of Form Fives, Africa is doomed to failure. It will remain stuck in the illusion stage of development. The African president must find ways of making Africans acquire knowledge beyond Form Five. Training of the human mind beyond secondary education is important because it opens one to the rest of the world, and helps one find solutions to many of the world’s problems; it is the fount for human excellence.
The African president must know that there is no real genetic difference between blacks, whites, and Asians. The Human Genome Project has determined unequivocally that there is the same amount of genetic variation among the peoples of the world.
With this in mind, he needs to take a hard look at the country’s low grade education system, transform and reposition it in such a way that a new generation of well-educated Form Fives is allowed to develop its potential to the fullest; that a greater number of Form Fives have a college education. It must be a system that promotes creative thinking and lifelong learning; one that encourages Africans to “see the big picture” and become scientifically, technically, technologically, economically, and politically savvy.
The African Ministry of Education must design a high-achieving curriculum centered on problem-solving, decision-making skills, and the improvement of metacognition. It must give mathematics and the sciences a higher priority and help students to master the principles of scientific and technological inquiry.
I know I am flogging a dead horse. The African president is least interested in pouring effort, money, and resources into an education system responsible for the economic, social, and political growth and development; one that leads to innovation, research, and discoveries; yes, one that puts us on the same footing with the rest of the world. If the president fails to unchain Form Fives we must not vote for him next time around. Power may be strong, but Education is more powerful still.

Field Ruwe is a US-based Zambian media practitioner, historian, and author. He is a doctoral candidate and serves as an adjunct professor (lecturer). ©Ruwe2012

*Sigh*. I swear, other than hot kenkey, I don’t think there is one other person who incites as visceral a reaction in people than the mere allusion to or mention of President Obama.

I sent this tweet this morning, not really expecting anybody to read, let alone respond to it. I said:

Poor God. He has nothing to do with this election. 1 of the candidates is in a cult and the other betrayed any Christian values he may have ever professed. Why are people praying for either of these clowns as if God is backing one heathen over the other?

But someone did respond, and the more I think about it, the more I’m confused about why she’d care about God and politics. She’s not a particularly religious person – not religious in the least, in fact. Why should she be concerned about this candidate and his alleged eschewing of his Christian values, I wonder? It should rather make her happy! Since she DM’d me on Twitter with her question, it stands to reason that she probably doesn’t want her identity revealed. I’ll just she’s a dear/best/awesome friend who is the ying to my yang.

How did Obama betray any Christian values he may have? she asked.

Ah. When did I mention Obama’s name in my tweet? That’s right; I didn’t. But she knew instinctively who I was talking about because as I said before, she’s my closest friend.

I was going to respond by throwing back a short list of “conservative” answers in 140 characters or less, but that would cheapen the content of what is to me a very serious conversation. That is: what role does God play in our elections, if any?

Before I carry on, let me state the obvious. I am not God Almighty, and don’t let anyone convince you of anything else! The Almighty is the only one who has the ability to judge a person’s heart. We mere mortals can only judge their actions. That being said, I can carry on into what led me to send the tweet.

Everyone is talking about this election. From former professors posting links and articles on their social media feeds to customers walking into my store, it’s almost all I ever hear about. More than fifty times, I’ve heard the following phrase or something close to it.

Oh God! Let Obama win this election! I’m praying for him to win this election!

Most of these people are Democrats, of course.

But why? Why are you expending useful energy praying to a deity who was removed from the platform at the DNC and whom the president and his VP have said that although they hold strong personal beliefs, that would never let those beliefs guide the policies and measures they would put in place for this nation? What kraaa does God have to do with any of this?

This is my stance as a Christian: either the Bible is completely false, or it is completely true. We can’t have it both ways. Either God was confused when Leviticus 18:22  (http://bible.cc/leviticus/18-22.htm) was written, or He was very clear. Homosexuality is an abomination. It’s either cool for us to kill our sons and daughters – according to the word of God – or it’s not. It’s worth reading the whole thing, but Psalms 106 says in part:

They worshiped their idols,
which led to their downfall.
 They even sacrificed their sons
and their daughters to the demons.
 They shed innocent blood,
the blood of their sons and daughters.
By sacrificing them to the idols of Canaan,
they polluted the land with murder.
 They defiled themselves by their evil deeds,
and their love of idols was adultery in the Lord’s sight.

It seems pretty clear to me that God has a problem with the shedding of innocent blood. But that’s just me.

I have a general sense about how the God of the Bible must feel about America, or any nation that professes to be “one under” Him, and I imagine that would be disgusted. Have you ever dealt with someone who just wouldn’t make up their friggin’ mind? I mean about ANYTHING? How frustrated were you? We don’t even like it when people take too long at the cashier’s counter in a store. They should have decided definitively what they wanted before they inconvenienced the rest of us! America is a nation caught between two or more opinions about God’s place in our society. How is that honoring the One whom we claim to be author and finisher of our faith? Let’s pull God off the shelf when we need a miracle during a hurricane, but by no means should His word ever be consulted when we need guidance on how to rule and conduct ourselves.

My problem with people invoking God where Barack Obama is concerned is that judging from his actions, policies and voting patterns, he appears to be a man caught between two opinions. He practices what my husband calls “casual Christianity”. On one hand he wants to empower women to murder their children in the womb, which is contrary to the heart of God. That doesn’t matter. But almost within the same breath, he invokes the spirit of God by saying it’s our Christian duty to care for the less fortunate, i.e. meaning we should all pay more in taxes to support government programs. When therefore are Christians supposed to pick their crosses and do the will of the Father? When the president and the government say it’s expedient to do so? Indeed:

This is what the LORD says: “Cursed are those who put their trust in mere humans, who rely on human strength and turn their hearts away from the LORD.  – Jeremiah 17:5

Is there ANY greater trust in the strength of men than to live a life so wholly dependent on the public dole? Yet a certain party wants to extend welfare programs instead of empowering those at the very bottom with education and ingenuity, no matter how much lip service they pay to the contrary. There are millions of dollars made every year by keeping people in ignorance and poverty.

My friend said she had no interest in Mitt Romney, but I’ll still go ahead to add that Mormonism is a creepy cult. Its roots are racist and some really shady practices (like necrophilia) are included in their dogma. Why again would I pray to my God to raise up a man with this belief system to rule over me and my family? Sounds crazy doesn’t it? Why again should I pray for God to raise another who is just as spiritually shady to do the same?

People say this election is about choosing the lesser of two evils. Personally, I don’t want evil leading me. Period.

I guess my point is, no matter who wins, these two men are not men convicted by the Holy Spirit. They are motivated by the whims of interest groups and big business. Don’t deceive yourself, dear Christian. No matter who you vote(d) for, he was not God’s elect. He is Saul 4.0.

I didn’t think I was going to make it through the summer, and yet by some miracle I survived. If the frequency of my posts is any indication of the amount of personal time I had available to me, you will see it was not very much. I think I posted 4 articles all summer. I’m too ashamed to go back and look.

School started for my children today and with any luck, that event will truly mean a return to at least one hour of free time every day to write. I hope.

Man, what a summer though, huh?!? I mean there was so much we didn’t get to talk about MOM Squad. Gabby Douglass’ hair; the shooting in Colorado, Liya’s sugar fueled manic weekend in DC where she woke up naked, a pregnancy scare, my near fatal crash on Delta Airlines….gosh there’s so much to get to!

Okay so let’s get to it! I tossed a coin and it looks like the Colorado shooting tragedy is first in the line-up. Here we go MOM Squad. Andrew, Revived Africanna, African Mami, Ebenezer the Scrooge – especially you, David S – and all the people who read and never comment; I’ve missed you all terribly.

Do you believe me? I didn’t think so. But I did!

Dude. This is more of a Hump Day rant than an actual ARTICLE, so just be forewarned.

There is so much I want to write about that I don’t even know where to begin. The trouble is, none of it is funny (at least not in a laugh out loud way…more of a WTF way) and I just don’t want to focus my energy on any of it. I don’t want to play Negative Nancy this week.

Mother’s day was actually really good. I think it deserves a dedicated script rather than a passing mention, so I’ll save the details for another day when I’m not

SO PISSED WITH THE WORLD!

I mean what is really going on here? From the chick on Time magazine breast feeding her mammoth 3 year old son, to the president giving God the middle finger, to the hoochies at Wal-Mart with their bellies hanging out…it’s all too much.

So here’s the deal: I’m going to take a little mental break and be back in about a week. I need to collect my thoughts. You wouldn’t believe the carnage that has taken place in my inbox…but you will when I tell you all about it after the dust settles. Why do certain people insist on troubling me??? Oh trust me, you’re going to want to read this one. I just have two words for you: African Men.

Sweet Jesus save my soul from certain African Men!

Alright MOM Squad. Next week; I promise. Have a slice of pecan pie for me. Or whatever it is you guys like to eat on a Wednesday.

Peace.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

The saying simply means that good ideas or thoughts lead to negative consequences that were unintended. A person begins with good thoughts, promising to themselves to do the right thing, however, priorities in life change, time becomes a limiting factor, and alas, the good intentions go astray.

But how could that be? If ones intentions are good and honorable, surely the expected – and obvious -outcome would be positive and desirable…right? Wrong! It took me 30 some years to get a general understanding of what that adage meant. Once I started my own charity and working with other charities, I finally understood it completely.

For the last few weeks I’ve watched a friend struggle with raising funds for a project that he’s working on. He’s one of those ‘do-gooders’: people that think that they can change the world with their caring and philanthropy; who cry at the top of their lungs against social injustice wherever and whenever he encounters it. You know the ones…those cut from the same cloth as that KONY2010. Silly chap. He ought to know that trying to bring justice and order into this world will drive you mad, or at least leave you high on prescription pills and madly masturbating alone in your vehicle after the entire globe has rebuffed your efforts to end an atrocity in a particular corner of the world. (He’s only 32. He’ll discover this on his own soon enough.)

The project that he’s on seeks to create social awareness by asking people how they can become a transforming force in their environment. He wants to chronicle their responses and film their interactions for a short documentary. He only needs to raise $2000. Once he sent a heartfelt email to trusted friends and advisors, support started flowing in.

“Oh! You can count me on board!”

“I believe in YOU and I believe in this project! Put me down for $300!”

“You go boy! What an awesome job!”

With spirits lifted, he waited patiently for the promises of donations to come in. They never came. So he sent out another email a few days later to coincide with pay day. Of course, I don’t have to tell you that the person making the loudest declaration for the largest sum had suddenly gone very quiet.

I felt for my friend, because I’ve been in the same position. Unlike me, he has not given up on his vision. I’ve been on stage, begging bowl firmly in hand, spouting a sob story about children in Africa and how a donation of $50 would radically change their lives. And for a little while, it worked. Some people gave a one-time donation and many more pledged to become monthly donors…the key word being ‘pledged’. I waited and waited for those pledges to come through so that I could transfer the funds to the hospital my team was supporting in Accra. I waited in vain until I finally gave up waiting.

My friend has yet to give up.

Perhaps he will when the next phase of building the road to Hell is enacted. When those laden with good intentions peek in to see how the erstwhile beloved project that they vehemently believed in (but never funded) is going.

“So! How’s it going?” they ask breathlessly, hoping that you were able to raise all the money you needed, sans their promised support.

“Oh. Okay…I guess,” will be the do-gooders quiet response. “I fell short of my goal by a couple hundred dollars.”

“Oh really? How many hundred?” is the hopeful inquiry; hope which is fueled by the desire of success so that blame cannot be laid at their feet.

“About fifteen hundred.”

The negligent financier looks crestfallen (or in our age, takes about a day to respond by inbox on FB).

“I’m sorry to hear that. I really wanted to support you, but some things came up. You understand.”

Of course, you want to be understanding, and being the bigger man or woman you reject the opportunity to throw in this individuals face that they are full of sh*t. Why would you make a pledge of support when you knew in your heart that you had no intention (there’s that word again!) of honoring them? Ahhh, but the disappointing party DID have intentions of honoring them, just not the fortitude to carry out those intentions!

I think it all boils down to integrity. One should never make promises that they can keep  but are just too lazy to do so. If you have access to the internet at home, a smartphone and a car, you can honor your commitment to a friend to make a donation. It might not be the $300 you promised, but daggonit if you can’t get by without a caramel macchiato – just this once! – and redirect those funds to a good cause.

It’s only $5.00. Besides, when you make a promise to seed into someone’s vision and fail to do it, you not only poison the vision with your inaction, but also poison a fairy in an enchanted realm. Do you really want to be responsible for killing fairies?

Within a matter of weeks, George Zimmerman’s website received $200,000 for his support fund.

Two. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars.

How much money have the lawyers representing Trayvon Martin received? I am certain that if it neared anywhere close to this ridiculous sum, we would have heard about it by now. But noooo. All these people with their ‘good intentions’ and Justice for Trayvon t-shirts rally and picket in parks and then go home to dinner. Meanwhile, the family still needs to pay legal fees! If all those thousands upon thousands of people just gave ONE dollar…just imagine.

I’m sure they intend to get to it. Most of us usually do.

 Are you a brick layer on the road to hell? Repent! It is not too late to redeem yourself! Confess right here in the comments section and all shall be forgiven!

I just got finished reading and article called Don’t blame the 1% for America’s pay gap on CNN Money by Nina Easton.  The article was so stunningly simple, it was mind blowing. In it, she recommends that instead of vilifying the 1% wage earners in this country, we ought to take a look at what they are doing right and emulating it.

DUH!

I devoured the article. The qualities of a top wage earner are few, but impacting:
•    They hold advanced degrees (education)
•    They work long hours (stellar work ethic)
•    If they do raise families, they do so in a two-parent household    (pooling and conserving resources)
•    They bring rare talent and skill to local and global economies (innovation)

That’s it. If you want to be a top wage earner, the blue print is staring you in the face! So why aren’t more of us richer? What’s holding you back? What’s your excuse?

I don’t know about you, Reader, but I don’t want to spend my whole life working just to stay poor. That’s not what smart people do.

And yes, that is the end of today’s post. No long t’ing needed.

I had an Egyptian friend who was an artist, who left his country about 17 years ago because the views of his countrymen were too “myopic”.

“They are too bound by religion,” he snorted with disdain. “Religion has done more to harm my country than it has to help it.”

“I can see that,” I nodded. I mean, it’s true. The abuse of religion and atrocities in the name of whatever God one might ascribe to in any geographic location has only served to set humanity back a few decades.

“That’s why when I went back to Egypt I did an art show using the Qur’an,” he continued.  “I ripped pages from it, painted them red and smeared cow dung all over them.”

“What the hell did you do that for?” I asked indignantly. “Why would you desecrate a holy book like that?”

“You see!” he said triumphantly. “That right there! What makes the book ‘holy’? Why should you have such a visceral reaction? It was done in the context of art, and art is meant to provoke thought! It’s just a piece of paper!”

“So what happened after your show?”

He was pensive before he spoke.

“I had to leave Egypt, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back…at least not to where I’m from.”

*****

I never forgot that conversation with Khalid, and that was well over 10 years ago. He was such a sweet guy, but I just never understood why he would have the need to do something so hurtful in the name of art. Sure, religion has held progress back in some ways, but it has also been the catalyst for a lot of good that has been done in the world as well. Defiling it to avenge some personal discontent is just as deplorable an act as those who use religion to propagate their own evil causes – like war and rape. I’ve always assumed that he was the victim of or witnessed some wrong that was committed in the name of religion, but he never confirmed it. He did state in no uncertain terms that he harbored a personal disdain for Islam, which probably made his sacrilege even more rewarding. I was disappointed in my friend.

These old feelings rose anew in me yesterday when I got wind of the image of a ‘Nigger Cake’ that was circulating around the web. (In the unlikely event that you have not read about this story, you can catch up on it here ) Makode Linde is the ‘artist’ responsible for the work, and is described as a man of African descent. He is clearly mixed race, and obviously identifies more with his European heritage than he does with whatever alleged part of Africa he is supposed to share DNA with. His contempt for his African heritage is obvious. Why else would he seek to make a spectacle of and trivialize this very real issue that affects thousands of African girls and women on the Continent today?

As deplorable as the actions of the (laughing) Swedish officials taking part in the mock mutilation of a minstrel painted African woman, another bigger issue is hardly getting any attention, and it is that issue that concerns me more: The participation of a Black man in this abhorrence.

As I’ve said here on M.O.M. before, it seems like every few months Black women are the subject of some pop culture attack. I sat down for a few minutes yesterday and tried to conjure up a timeline that I could point to to refute this assertion for objectivity’s sake. I failed.

I believe that every Black or African woman can point to an incident in their life when they realized that they were the least valued being in existence, and particularly when pop culture presented them with that truth. Perhaps for some it might have been the illustrated caricatures of Aunt Jemima or Venus Hottentot from decades back. I grew up with Aunt Jemima, and I never equated her image with anything culturally off. However I imagine that an 8 year old girl growing up in the south 60 years ago would like at the pancake icon and say “that doesn’t look like me or anyone I know!” In truth, the Aunt Jemima we know today bares scant resemblance to the woman on the original boxes sold over 100 years ago.

For me, the infamous Don Imus incident was what seared this perception into my consciousness. His remark that Rutgers University’s female basketball team was a bunch of “nappy headed hoes” only served to keep ancient the canon ball that assaults Black female dignity rolling.
From Mammie, to Aunt Jemima, to Venus, to Sheneneh, to Nappy Headed Hoes, to Satoshi Kanazawa and his “study” declaring that Black women are less physically attractive, to this preposterous FGM ‘nigger’ cake…whew! Aren’t you tired after reading this? Imagine how I feel living it!

Now, you would imagine that there would be one group of people best able to identify with the struggles of a Black woman, and that would be the Black boys and men raised by them. Sadly, Black men are more often than not the cause of the ills that Black women face.

Whenever the attack comes, I listen for the voice of our men. This time they will come to our defense! I supplicate inwardly. This time they will come out and roar, saying this far is far enough!  However as usual, after Jesse and Al have been told to hold their peace and stay in their place, the collective voice of Black men goes eerily quiet.

You might recall that during the Don Imus incident, Fox News assembled Dr. Lamont Hill, Patrice O’Neal and some other guy on Sean Hannity’s show. Given that Patrice O’Neal was there to defend Imus’ disgusting utterances, he was given the courtesy of speaking uninterrupted by the host. O’Neal even went further to invite Dr. Hill to join in the jest.

“Nappy headed hoes – you know that’s funny!” Patrice declared.

Lamont Hill did not think so, and later on in the show told Patrice that he was up there “soft shoeing” for the majority. Well, Patrice didn’t like that one bit! Are Patrice O’Neals actions and attitude towards my women isolated? Hardly. In fact, they constitute the norm in the Black intra-racial experience.

Look at the African continent and look beyond the issues that get the most media attention – like poverty and access to education -that plague women. Makode Linde chose to bring attention to female genital mutilation, a very real issue on the continent, but by ridiculing it and inviting a bunch of people who have never had to suffer through this painful ordeal to participate in that ridicule. Had he gotten up from the table and said “Look folks, this is a very serious issue, let’s give it some respect”, we’d be having a different conversation. Instead, he lay underneath the table in blackface and let the Swedish Minister for culture feed him a piece of freshly sliced clitoris. But it’s supposed to be okay, right? Because it’s art -”Black” art.

But why the need for FGM in the first place? The only reason young girls are being mutilated is because men, African men in particular, refuse to grow up. They believe that removing a girl’s clitoris will make her less promiscuous, thereby reducing/eliminating the presupposed baggage that promiscuity brings. It’s the same reason for breast ironing, which is “the pounding and massaging of a pubescent girl’s breasts using heated objects in an attempt to make them stop developing or disappear. It is typically carried out by the girl’s mother in an attempt to protect the girl from sexual harassment and rape, to prevent early pregnancy that would tarnish the family name, or to allow the girl to pursue education rather than be forced into early marriage. It is mostly practiced in parts of Cameroon, where boys and men may think that girls whose breasts have begun to grow are ready for sex. The most widely used implement for breast ironing is a wooden pestle normally used for pounding tubers. Other tools used include bananas, coconut shells, grinding stones, ladles, spatulas, and hammers heated over coals.”

 Why the need to desecrate African women and girls’ bodies? Because men refuse to practice self-control, and NO ONE is willing to force them to do so. They get free pass after pass. Instead of requiring that they practice restraint and dignity, we’re cutting into the intimate areas of babies with razor blades! And why would anyone think that a Black woman’s body was worthy of such mutilation? Why is that okay? For the very same reason my friend smeared cow sh*t all over his Qur’an: it is not respected. It is treated as an object of disdain; and there are no repercussions that really matter.

 The assertion that Makonde Linde’s work is not “racist” because the artist as Black is as asinine as the assertion that slavery was not “painful because many of the slave raiders were Black Africans as well”. When an atrocity is committed, the only perspective that matters at all is that of the victim. The victim doesn’t care who hurt her…only that she was hurt! Racism has nothing to do with the color of the person meting out punishment, and ONLY to do with their perception and prejudices against the subject of their hatred. So yes, Black people can be racists.
I am offended, but I am not surprised. We are dealing with a small boy, and a group of cultural illiterates after all.

Linde is just one speck in a collective of Black that needs to grow up and become mature citizens. Black men need to learn how to be men for their own sake, but more so for the sake of Black women as well.