The Perfect Sentiment

February 28, 2016

The Perfect Sentiment

(For Blondie)

45 minutes.  I was in that store, on that aisle for about 45 minutes.  Reading hundreds of cards, holding on to the possible winners while inching up and down the aisle reading more.  Deciphering which sentiment best described us, our relationship, our love.  I finally selected a card.  It was not too long. It was not excessively lovey-dovey.  It was real.  Truthful.  Honest.  It was us.  Its signature was perfect.  Signed “To the Guy I Love”.  My first Valentines card purchased in my adult life for a man I loved.

I never got to give him that card.  It sat on my desk signed, sealed and undelivered.  It eventually was delivered to the trash.  That card, though cautiously selected could not convey what is really true about us.  I guess that is why I am writing this sentiment.

Before him I can honestly say that I never loved any one nor been loved by any one.  Parts of me were loved, idolized, lusted.  I was never loved as a whole with pureness.  Because of those experiences I am cautious with my heart.  It was him who assured me, through actions, that it was safe to let down my guards.  He listened to my every word whether said, typed, written or unsaid.  He communicated with me only with kindness and honesty and never with anger, disrespect, or ill intent.  Secure in who he is as a man and compassionate for my feelings as his woman, he supported me in gaining closure from an ex in my recent past.  It is rare to come across a man or woman willing to do that.  He respected my morals and values, never overstepping or violating my wishes.  He was okay with my silence, my nerdy sense of humor, my old soul, and the “grandma” in me.  Never wanting to change who I am nor control me, he genuinely loved me inside out and showed it with consistency through action.

He was not perfect.  There were times that were not fairy tale, but with communication, selflessness, and absence of pride; he with maturity, was able to apologize and correct the mishap with sincerity.  There were not many times as such, nor were these times irreconcilable for fatal to the relationship, but even then he handled them with extreme care.  He gave me hope in finding love in a man.  He proved my insecurities wrong by loving me.  All of me.  He met every standard and exceeded my highest expectations.  I was worth waiting for, worth courting, worth a sincere connection, worth being vulnerable with.

Though the twists, turns, valleys, heights, setbacks, and breakthroughs of life have physically parted us and we no longer bask in the joys of companionship, I have come to peace with who we are and what we have.  The tears I cried when parting with him are not the same tears that gently fell when composing this sentiment.  Then, those tears were sadness in losing the first man I have loved.  Now, tears of joy.  Joy in having experienced real love.  Joy in having the opportunity to love without regret.  Joy in participating in equally reciprocated love.  Joy in having a man in my life who was nothing short of a blessing.  Pure and genuine as my friend and lover he encouraged, supported, and respected me.  He was a gentleman behind closed doors and in front of the world.  He was transparent and honest with me about everything.  He listened. He cared. He was kind, patient, and selfless.  He is my love.

I appreciate him and his love.  I thank him for having my heart and caring for it.  I thank him for his courage.  Courageous enough to be vulnerable and trust me with his heart.  I am glad we were good to each other and good for each other.  I am glad we took care of each other spiritually and emotionally in which resulted in fostered love.  Though our physical relationship is no longer and may never again exist, our love has no expiration.  What we created together will never be forgotten and always felt.  That truth is something Hallmark could never express with preciseness.  I am glad I am able to.

-To the Guy I Love

Francina

Inimitable Follicle

December 22, 2015

Inimitable Follicle

I gazed into the partly steamed mirror.  Running my fingers through the three inch high cold black forest of curls, coils, kinks and fuzz.  I used all the strength in my 10 year old hands to pull and flatten my forest down like I could do just fifteen minutes ago.  I pulled in one direction. Fail.  I pulled in another direction.  I spread my fingers further apart to grab more hair.  I bowed my head forward and tried to contain all the hair from the back and pull it on top of my head.  I strategically sectioned my hair.  Curls broke loose. Kinks refused to cooperate. Coils sprung out.  Fuzz brought a rough untamed appearance. I yelled at her, yanked, screamed, and pulled with aggression and frustration. My eyes began to water, and tears slowly dropped from my cheeks like the water dripping from my hair.  What had I done?

At the tender age of 10 I unconsciously struggled with the societal conceptual standard of normality in external appearance.

  Even at the age of 25 I continue to discover other societal hypocrisy and the communication of self-hate. A new sociological concept has been swarming recent media and social issues lately and had brought me to a revelation.  Cultural Appropriation. Cultural appropriation has two very important definitions.  First; a privileged group misrepresenting and disrespecting marginalized cultures intellectual property, traditions, artifacts, symbols, fashion etc. in which the originators rarely get credit, but always deal with the consequences.  Second; a group in which the culture, appearance, beliefs and traditions are mocked and belittled by the dominant group in order to spread inferiority ideals.  It is obvious that people of color in the “Melting Pot”, (more like Salad Bowl) of America have faced both sides of cultural appropriation since setting foot in the “Land of the Free”.  In recent years I have come to notice just how much of a psychological effect this has had on Black women specifically.

Physically, black women have ALWAYS been globally unique.  We come in various shapes, sizes, and shades.  We stand out in most crowds, and individually stand out in crowds of us.  This distinct individuality yet unicity is something we should delight in daily.  Unfortunately it has been skewed by a hybrid of cultural appropriation and assimilation. 

The destruction of our beauty and the creation of self-hate began with the second definition of appropriation.  Society began to shape beauty around the image of the white woman.  Straight hair, fair skin, thin lips, and lack of curves.  Encompassing all of these features in one black woman is nearly impossible.  The effect of this was, the further divide between shades of Black women (Light vs. Dark, though this originated in times of slavery), bleaching cream, and chemical relaxers.  Prior to, Ethnological Expositions (Human Zoos) were established across Europe to lust, exploit and degrade the fanatical physical appearance of the bare Black woman.  How can a woman find beauty in herself when it has been lusted and told it was not beautiful?  By assimilating to be merely accepted by society.

After years of pursuing, perfecting and attaining societal acceptance, the second definition of cultural appropriation shows its face. Now, beauty is full lips, curves (booty), dark skin, and “wild” hair.  This new beauty is only beautiful on the imitator, and not the originator.  The originator is frowned upon by the imitator and their fellow originators as well.  For example, Kylie Jenner and her “Dred Locks” are considered edgy and is praised.  Meanwhile, I am told I cannot wear any form of braids if I wanted to work at my minimum wage job as a 16 year old, because it does not “fit the brand”.  Growing up in the black community dred locks were also seen as risky to get if “you want to get a job and be taken seriously”.  A sad learned concept stemmed by cultural appropriation.   Another example would be the booty, hip and thigh injection phenomenon.  Many non-black women are now having procedures to achieve a bigger butt, and receive praise and attention for it, from men of all races (including our men).  Black women with large butts were looked upon as aliens and inhumane in the past (Human Zoos) and are not given any recognition in the present.  Teen Vogue featured a White model to enlightened teens about Senegalese twist, in which she wore in her hair. 

Marc Jacobs stuns the fashion world with his runway show where models wore “Mini Buns” on their heads; originally known as Bantu Knots.  Elle Magazine UK stated that Katy Perry created a new trend we all know as “Baby Hair”.  Twerking is now acceptable and no longer an aggressive abrasive mating slut dance since Mylie Cyrus began to swear by the dance.  Black women are shamed by everyone (even our own men and women) for wearing weave/extensions, as if Jessica Simpson does not have her own line of extensions.  Allure magazine releases a tutorial article in which features a white woman with an afro teaching white women how to obtain afros. We all know Rachel Dolezal is the epitome of Cultural Appropriation.

Black women have experienced centuries of cultural appropriation of both definitions, in which, has only blinded us of our beauty, divided us as a unit, and has given us a sense of hopelessness of achieving our own logic of beauty and owning it.  In recent years Black women have begun to counteract the damage done by the society’s impossible expectations and disrespectful use of cultural appropriation.  How have we done so?  Black women across the globe who have experienced the Westernized oppression of Black beauty have decided to take back our most distinct feature, (next to our flawless skin) and that is with our hair. 

The natural hair movement opened the eyes of self-discovery in Black women.  It has opened up the doors to learning to appreciate and take care of our hair.  All generations have embraced this movement and are shamelessly wearing the God given hair that grows from our hair in an array of styles, and are inventing more by the day.  Women who wear

weaves/extensions have now began to wear variations of hair, such as Natural hair weaves that come in many curl patterns, thickness and types.  Corn Rows are not just the only type of braids we rock.  We rock box braids, crochet braids, French braids.  We twist in many ways as well.  We flat twist, we Senegalese twist, we Marley Twist, we wear Havana Twist.  There are different types of Locs like Free Form Locs, Traditional Locs, Sister Locs, Brade Locs. 

Our hair, whether natural, relaxed, or hidden under weave/extensions; straightens, curls, waves, stretches, shrinks, ties, twists, reacts to the weather, and can look natural and beautiful on any shade of Black across the globe.  That reality, versatility, and individuality

has created unity in us as race and gender that can never be duplicated by anyone other than us.  That truth we are embracing has helped us overcome our past of self-hatred, insecurities and ill perception of self.  It has helped us establish our own spectrum of beauty where ALL is uniquely and specifically accepted.

Those tears of pain and frustration I cried as a 10 year old who just did a Big Chop, has turned into tears of joy.  Joy in the revelation of the beauty I innately have as a Black woman through the knowledge of our hair. Joy in the growth I have seen Black women have in acceptance of our hair in all of its fabulous states and joy in the destruction of our past oppressive conceptions of beauty. Not only tears of joy, but also tears of laughter.  Laughter at anyone who dares to culturally appropriate what is God given and considers their duplication as truth.  They say “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery”, the world has been and will always be flattered at our hair, but imitation is impossible with the inimitable follicle.

-Francina

Emanuel AME Nine, More than a Tragedy

7/23/15

Emanuel AME Nine, More than a Tragedy

The nine lives taken in the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in South Carolina took a toll on the hearts of people across the world. The fear and anger that one man placed on the Black community was overwhelmingly felt. I personally was overcome with sorrow, fear, anger, and discombobulation.   I attend church and to think that my life could be taken while worshiping my God, because some people hate the color of my skin overwhelmed my spirit.  Then my sorrow turned into joy after having a discussion with my mom about the troubling event.  She said to me "There is no doubt in my mind where they are now, and that is where they rightfully deserve to be".

AMEN!  If I had the choice in how I would leave this earth I would want to in grand fashion as they! They spent their last moments in the house of the Lord praising and worshiping and spreading love to a stranger who had unjustified hate for them.  There is not an ounce of doubt in my mind that the nine are still praising and worshiping right now in heaven with our Lord! Praise God! Their lives, though missed are also valued and should be reverend with the most admiration.  We ALL benefited from their service.  Senator Pinckey served ALL people within the state, his congregation and community.  The other eight served the community as active and lead members of the Church.  A group decorated with occupations of service such as teachers, volunteers and pastors; counseling others while being counseled by Christ.  They were vessels of love.

Their deaths served us ALL as being another event of significance that has revealed the spirit of hate and its wicked presence in our country.  Before the Emanuel AME nine, the #BlackLivesMatter movement highlighted racial injustice through police brutality and the lives of unarmed Black citizens.  Though their stories were surely real and valid it was constantly debated as to whether the issue is truly about Black Lives, attempting to ignore that racial hate exists.  Critics instead placed blame on the character of the people who lost their lives (he was selling cigarettes, or stealing, or verbally combative, posed a threat, attacked or assaulted the officer, aggressively out of control).  Critics also attempted the all-inclusive approach by stating #AllLivesMatter.  The suppressive voice of critics began to quiet and slow the cry of truth that racism is alive and is arrogantly blunt.  That is until the Emanuel AME Nine.

Here are nine individuals, who were not killed by police enforcement, who were not combative, who were not stealing, who were not posing any threat.  They were worshiping in the house of the Lord, welcomed a stranger in the comfort of their spiritual home and were murdered.  The murderer claimed that his motive was that he “wanted to kill Black people.”.  Critics could not debate, question, or suppress the issue of race hatred any longer.  It was barefaced.  It does not matter if wrongfully accused or detained by, if with a criminal record, if without a criminal record, if qualified for employment, if educated, if uneducated, if club hopping at night or worshiping in the house of the Lord, hate based on race is alive and will be justified when given the opportunity. The deaths of the Emanuel AME nine affirmed the hate crimes are still bluntly imposed on Black people and rejuvenated the #BlackLivesMatter movement. 

The Emanuel AME Nine are more than just lives taken by hate.  They symbolize true Christians, who literally sacrificed their lives to serve others in their daily occupations.  They counseled, prayed, and educated many in their communities and beyond, all while being counseled by the Lord through Jesus Christ.  Despite the recent racial injustice and the widely known national history of racial oppression of that church and of Black people, they welcomed a stranger in their home with open arms of love.  Is this not what Christ did and what he preaches? Mark 10:45 “For even the Son of Man came down, not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many”. Matthew 5:44 “I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.  He served others by healing, teaching and counseling people of all ethnicities, He spoke against injustices and He did not do it with a halo over His head and peacefully all of the time. In the Gospels (Matt, Mark, Luke, John) Jesus went into the temple courts and flipped tables, yelled, and drove out the wrong doers.  He spoke what was just in a fearless respectable and assertive fashion to those who pushed his buttons. While being hated and intentionally mistreated, Christ continued to worship and be counseled by His Father in heaven.  People too hated Christ for reasons unjustified, but even with that he prayed for them with his last breath on the cross.  They too found a way to justify his death and murdered him through the judicial system.  

For me I thank the Emanuel AME Nine. They were the manifestation of the Christian walk by sacrificing their lives for people of ALL colors through service and love. They sacrificed their lives for the rejuvenation of the #BlackLivesMatter movement. The scales have fallen off the eyes of people of ALL ethnicities who were distracted, passive or chose not to acknowledge this spirit of hate that dwells in our nation. These nine were not famous activist such as Dr. King Jr., Malcom X, or Angela Davis, they were your everyday pastors, teachers, coworkers, friends, and family who served ALL people with love and stood firm against injustice beliefs and acts. All of these deeds done in the action of love and under the guidance of Jesus Christ.  I rejoice in the nine saints of the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church who went home in honor for the life they lived in service here on earth.  I proudly say their names because I am honored to say them and more importantly my Father in heaven has gained nine good and faithful servants.  Praise God as they are Rejoicing in Paradise!

Francina

In Loving Memory of..

Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd

Susie Jackson

Ethel Lee Lance

Depayne Middleton-Doctor

Senator Clementa C. Pinckney

Tywanza Sanders

Daniel Simmons

Sharonda Coleman-Singleton

Myra Thompson

 

Why Are You Single?

7-20-2015

“Why are you single?”

The title speaks for itself.  I cannot count how many times I have been asked by the opposite sex this question.  I recall my various answers…

“Uhhh…”*shoulder shrug*.  The most popular response.

“I don’t know, you tell me?” The Smart-Alek response.

“I don’t know, I just am.”  The honest with the attempt to provide reason, while not truly knowing reason.

“Why are you single?” Question dodging response where one answers the question by asking the same question.

“Ask all the men who have overlooked me, played me, or dumped me.” The low-key male bashing response.

How can a woman honestly answer that question?  She does not want to place blame on others, or make herself appear unfit for companionship. The frequently asked question ignited a desire for the answer to this question.  I began to seek it.

I am twenty-four years old.  I have never had sex and I have only had one boyfriend.  I have dated men, but none could stand the test of time.  There is a persistent pattern of giving up, walking away….rejection.  The persistent pattern began to bother me.  It began to eat away at my confidence.  It made me second guess my character as a woman.  I began to self-evaluate.  This pattern is not coincidental.  Something must be wrong on my end.  I first began to look at past relationships and reflect on how I handled them.  Was I too impatient? Needy? Did I lack affection, empathy, possibly understanding?  Was I too selfish, too selfless?  Greedy? Ungrateful?  Then I began to reflect on the men who participated in the short lived relationships.  All of the men I entertained and dated were considered (and I agree) “good guys” “a great catch”.  These men would too consider me “a good woman”, “classy”, “special”.  Is it unorthodox for a good woman and a good man to find compatibility and companionship?

The answer lies deeper than the physical facts seen on the surface.  The question is why am I single.  The question is not why have a number of good men unanimously chose to reject me.  It is not about them, it is about me.  I needed to do some soul searching.  How can one find he/she soulmate if they are not in tune with their own soul? How does one learn the errors of their soul, the strengths, the weaknesses, the growth, the deterioration? The next question I asked myself is how does one discover the character of their soul?  I found out that self-discovery/soul searching is stagnant and in vain if God through Christ is not involved.  Who would know me best than the One who created me?  In seeking Him I found me and the answer to this question.  The answer lied in three scriptures that would collectively provide a truthful answer to the question.

I have dated many men.  The pursuit from men is not a rarity for me.  I’ve been blessed to have entertained “good guys” matter of fact.  The elimination of doubt and contemplation of my character in regards to why men are attracted to me stem from this verse. “..husbands (men) indifferent as they are to any words about God, will be captivated by your life of holy beauty.  What matters is not your outer appearance-the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes- but your inner disposition, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight” 1 Peter 3:2-5.  Men, whether seeking God or not, see the beauty in me because they are captivated, not merely attracted or lustful.  Attraction and lust are closely related to the physical while captivation is drawn by holy beauty which derives from within.  Holy beauty is free of exterior charms and appeals that can be seen by the human eye; instead it is seen with the heart and felt by the soul.  While my thick thighs, round bottom and thick hair may be attractive, it is not unfading like the beauty of my spirit.  

How do I know I attain a holy beauty?  1 Corinthians 7:34 confirms stating “The unmarried (single) woman cares about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in both body and in spirit.”  Is that not what I am doing as a single woman?  Actively soul searching through the Word of the Lord, seeking His wisdom and direction about my character.  Does not active soul searching through the Word of the Lord lend that I care about the things of the Lord?  Because I do these things I am both holy in body (maintaining my virginity/celibacy sexual purity) and spirit (holy beauty).

The final scripture answers the question of rejection.  “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers.  For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common?  Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?” 2 Corinthians 6:14.  Equally yoked.  A yoke is a wooden crosspiece that is fastened over the necks of two animals and attached to the plow or cart they are to pull together.  It is a harness, coupling, that joins two.  The two are to function as one by supporting one another in the journey ahead.  One cannot abandon the other without abandoning itself.  While yoked they are to learn one another’s flaws.  They must learn how to encourage strengths and help correct weakness in a selfless and respectful manner.  I have yet to come across the one that is suitable to be yoked with me; this is why the men I have come across have all rejected me. The Lord has kept me from them.  In my own doing it would be a tasking, and huge mistake to find a partner to yoke with me. This type of compatibility and intimacy is one that only God can ordain and sustain.

Within three scriptures and active soul searching through Christ I now know why I am single.  I am single because I am currently taken and exclusively occupied by the Lord, as he prepares me for my blessing of holy companionship.   I ultimately belong to the Lord, and He as my father and creator knows exactly what is best for me.  Because I have acknowledged this truth, I can whole heartedly soul search through Him in order to find my soulmate.  As long as I continue to be the single woman who cares about the things of the Lord and remain holy in body and spirit.  My holy beauty that derives within will always attract good men, but if he is not the one that the Lord has selected for me to be yoked with he will not establish and endure longevity with me.

I no longer have to question my character in regards to my singleness.  My singleness is not an embarrassment and is not a reflection of error in my character.  It is a time of spiritual growth and maturity in me.  Once I am able learn what needs to be learned from my Father in grand preparedness, then will he bless me with perfection in a companion.  In the meantime I may run into rejection, but instead of elongated heartache and self-blame, I can rest in the truth I discovered through Him.  The truth is that as long as I am actively soul searching through Him my soulmate will arrive.

Francina

“A women’s heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him to find her”

-Maya Angelou