justathought

I wanted to write something today, but I was not certain about what. I try to actually shape my thoughts so that a particular topic is determined before I begin writing, but today I decided to just start typing and see what comes out. I have had a lot going on in my life lately. I feel that inside me there is a new person emerging that is unlike anyone I’ve known before. Sometimes that is kind of scary to think about, kind of like Bruce Banner, and the Incredible Hulk. I don’t imagine there is a green monster with superhuman strength deep inside, but it is someone unlike my old self.

I actually don’t consider the person that is emerging a bad person. This person feels more than the old me. This person cares more about other people than the old me ever did. This person has a renewed sense of black pride that is beautiful to see coming to life within me. This person reminds me a little of the little girl I used to be. That little girl was fearless. She embraced all that life had to offer. It’s funny sometimes to think about how much life can change you, erode away the heart of who you are without you ever realizing it is happening.

If you are lucky, one day you wake up, realize the loss and figure out it is not to late to get back some of the “core you” that has been lost. For me, I am realizing I have such a huge capacity to love. I can and do love more than just my biological family. My life experiences taught me to bury that part of me. Those experiences taught me to be afraid to share myself with people outside my circle. Those experiences taught to me horde the gifts that God gave me, rather than share them with people freely and abundantly.

Until I let God back into my life, I was lost. I never realized how awesome He can make you feel inside if you just let Him. It creates a whole new person out of the fractured soul that we allow life’s bad experiences to make of us. When we let Him in, His essence is reflected out of us and into the atmosphere of every life we touch. It humbles us and weakens us emotionally; yet that weakness also becomes our greatest strength. It is love; by accepting it, we become love.

This new person inside me is happy. This new person inside me loves life. This new person inside me loves everyone, but especially my black people. This new person is ready to step out and be of service in a meaningful way that can help heal the plight faced by so many of my people.

Those are my thoughts today. That is where my mind is at and this is just a glimpse inside . . .

It would seem that in the small town of Gloucester, MA, some teenage females think it is a good idea to become a mom.  Seventeen girls made a pact to get preganant and the country appears to be up in arms over the matter.  As I read this article, I could only think that teen preganacy is not a new epedemic; yet, in this situation the country appears to be flabbergasted as to why this is happening. 

According to Kathleen Kingsbury, the TIME reporter that wrote the article, the kids felt that they had “no opportunities available to them and being a mother became something they could do”.  In  my opinion this statement and the relevance given to this issue is completely idiotic.  There have been young black girls getting pregnant in droves for a long time and the amount of sympathy that seems to drip from this article for the white teenagers has never been given to their black counterparts. 

 When a black teen finds herself facing motherhood, be it through willful effort are “unintentionally”, she is viewed as shiftless, someone who is looking to live off of the system through welfare at the expense of every other hard working American. 

In this instance these young white teens come from town where the “… jobs are not there anymore”, according to the reporter.  That statement makes me fairly certain that the families of these seventeen idiots (who thought it great fun to play at motherhood) will not be able to help support their offspring without undergoing severe struggle.  Yet, in no way does this article cast a harsh eye on the behaviors of these teens.  It is as if America is already setting the stage to offer aid to these “poor misguided souls”.  If that is the case, I think it is all a big crock of manure!  They were stupid enough to actively seek their current predicament, I think we should force them all to be responsible for that choice.

I remember when I went to college; I was so excited about my new experience.  I was living on my own for the first time.  There was no one I had to report to for anything.  “Grown” was not enough of a word to explain how I felt.  Little did I know that starting college was also the start of my financial ruin.  

I was a poor kid from the hood . . .not the urban jungle, but there was enough crime and episodes of  families without power to make me feel like I was living an episode of “Good Times”.
 

My lifestyle of watching my mother make ends meet to provide for six children always meant there was more need than money at the end of day.  I never understood what was meant when she said “Money don’t grow on trees.  This is especially true when I went to college.  Each day I walked to class, I had vendors yelling out incentives for free stuff.  Imagine my surprise to learn there were things you could get free without first standing in a welfare line.  All that was needed was completion of one little application for a credit card . 

Like any good college student, I had no intention of using the cards that started flowing in with my name branded across the front.  After all, while I did not grow up with privilege, I was not completely naïve.  If you have nothing (which was the case with me) you can expect to get nothing for free. 

However, as my survival needs outweighed my families ability to assist me (or maybe it was my gargantuan pride that refused to let me ask for help), I began to use the cards and found my financial output quickly surpassed my financial input.  This fact is true for many young people today.  According to an article found on onepaycheckatatime.com, Young Americans now have the second highest rate of bankruptcy, just after those aged 25 to 44. 

I thought about this today as a drove around helping my niece, who is only 18 look for a car.  She is young with no credit and I am . . . getting older with bad credit.  As much as my heart wanted to help her, my circumstances would not allow me that opportunity. 

In my childhood household, we were not taught the importance of credit and saving money.  We were taught the necessities of survival.  You spent your time reviewing the bills and making life decisions, always finding that there is never enough for all you need. 

Fixing your credit is a lot harder to do once you have completely mangled it.  As I am working with my niece to find her way in life, I can only hope that she is gaining wisdom from the poor choices I have made along the way. 

While I believe that I am still young enough to turn my situation around . . .  nothing beats getting it right the first time around!

There is no doubt that R. Kelly is shouting these song lyrics today “You saved me/Gave me a second chance/You saved me” as he walks out of the courtroom exonerated of all charges against him.  The phenomenal songwriter faced up to 15 years in prison if he were to have been convicted of the numerous charges mounted against him.  I admit that I have always been a fan of his work.  I bought nearly every album, sung along to the lyrics in the car, and attended a concert or two when he came to my town.  When the allegations surfaced nearly six years ago, many people were conflicted about whether or not to support or turn away from one of music’s reining idols at that time. After all, many thought the idea of such a sexy and sexual man indulging in his carnal pleasure by defiling a child was absurd.  It was easier to believe such things about Michael Jackson because of his eccentricities and the alleged victims were boys.  

                 I’ll admit that I reserve judgment on R. Kelly’s guilt or innocence because I never watched the tape.  The idea of watching the possible rape and degradation of a child did not appeal to my voyeuristic appetites, unlike so many of the people I know.In reflecting on his acquittal today, I think about the pros and cons of where this man finds himself now.  If he was never guilty of the crimes (as the jury has determined), then he will forever walk around with the cloud of being a child molester.  Is his musical career over?  While I was a huge fan during my teens and  early to mid-twenties, I have found his more recent lyrical content contains far more misses than hits.  I wonder how many other people in my age bracket (the simply sensational 30 plus crowd) feel the same way.  If he is guilty, then he has been released into society so that he can continue to seduce young girls that are enthralled by his star power and his hypersexual lyrical content.  After all, what young person with raging hormones can’t relate to such lyrics as:  

“These hands have been longing to touch you baby/And now that you’ve come around, to seein’ it my way/You won’t regret it baby, and you surely won’t forget it baby”

“I don’t see nothing wrong (Ooh)/With a little bump ‘n grind (With a little bump ‘n grind)/I don’t see nothing wrong (Hey baby)”

“from beyond this bed of mine i see/ceiling fans with you on top of me/and the window blinds are filled with rays of sun/and all you secret fantasies thy will be done”

While I feel this way on one hand, I also can’t deny that song lyrics like these made me fall in love with this singer/songwriter’s creativity.  Not to mention the following:

“Now I Admit Sometimes I Make Mistakes/But Still I Appreciate The Love We Make/Stop At The Door And Put Your Bags Back Down/Now Baby Please Can We Work This Out”

“Now in the midst of my battle/All hope was gone/Downtown in a rushed crowd/And felt all alone/And every now and then/I felt like I would lose my mind/I’ve been racin’ for years/And still no finish line”

“I believe I can fly/I believe I can touch the sky/I think about it every night and day/Spread my wings and fly away/I believe I can soar/I see me running through that open door/I believe I can fly 

While the jury that decided R. Kelly’s fate is no longer out, I find that I have yet to reach a decision on whether or not I will continue to be a fan of R. Kelly . . .  

I do not profess to be an expert at this whole resume writing thing but,  as more people are dusting off the keyboard and staring at a blank screen . . .trying to figure out the best way to sell themselves. . . .I find myself offering up advice to friends and family on how the whole thing should work.   

Many kids fresh out of high school have not had any real exposure to resume writing . . .they are more familiar with the application process at the local Wal-Mart or fast food restaurant.  They are accustomed to the question/answer process of the job application document. 

Many kids fresh out of college have spent such concentrated focus on the ultimate goal . . .OBTAIN THE DEGREE . . .that they have not learned how to sell themselves once they have the piece of paper.  The resume is too tailored toward the degree they’ve earned in a field they will likely never work. 

For all of those folks that fall into these categories, seeking a job to keep the roof over their heads; I offer this advice: 

·          Accurate spelling and punctuation is key, use the spell check button . . .that’s what it is there for·          Is your phone number, address, and email address correct. . .does it reflect information local to the job you seek?·          Is your objective statement generic enough to use for multiple industry applications  

These are just a few of the beginning things you should consider when writing a resume.  I am finding lately that many young people do not have these basic steps.  So what do we do to help them help themselves?

I have a niece who is just beginning her adventure into the workforce world.  Her first job is a customer service position in a call center environment.  She is eighteen, almost nineteen, and feels grateful everyday that her first job could be in a professional setting rather than the local McDonald’s or Burger King.

We went to lunch yesterday and she began to tell me about the sort of workplace conversations one of her co-workers has been having lately.    The main topic has been one of sex.   This young lady seems to get great pleasure out of talking about the following:

• what her sexual skills are
• what sort of sex she had the night before
• any and all types of conversation that includes sexual innuendo

I begin to wonder what sort of self-esteem this young lady (she is only 21) must have and why no one has taught her about the topics that are appropriate for the workplace. While my niece is displaying the appropriate amount of disgust that the young lady would think to have these sorts of conversations on the job, I begin to wonder how many other young people out there would see no problem with this sort of conversation. Are we not doing enough to prepare our children for the adult world they must one day enter?

We celebrate a monumental occasion this week. . . . the nomination of the first black person for a major political party.  As a young. . .ok, younger black person, I find this moment to be a tremendous moment of pride.  It seems we have had a serious lull in the truly inspiring moments for black people. . . .or so
America would have us think.  We are limited in the images of the “truly possible” that we are able to see.Do we think it is possible to be a famous athlete. . . .sure, black people can do that.  Do we think it is possible to be a famous musician or artist . . . sure black people can do that too.  We see it everyday on TV and the other forms of media.  But, can a black voice change the world . . . .that’s the stuff you read about in the history books.  We are made to believe that there are no more Malcolms & Martins of the world anymore.  We are taught to take pride in our physical strength but not much notice is given to our mental prowess.The nomination of Barack Obama is a reminder to little black boys and girls that we come from greatness.  We have the strength to survive and overcome anything that is placed before us.  We can be anything . . . even President one day.  We can do and be anything we choose. 

Many young black kids today never get the chance to witness our great achievements because the media does not value a story of black achievement and sadly once many of us “make it” we run far and fast from our humble beginnings never to be seen again.  Therefore, when moments like this arise, it gives us hope.  In an economy where hope is fading in the wind, we have to take each moment we get and store it away deep within and draw on its strength when the storms reach shore . . . .which we know they will  

I’ve been in a relationship now for two years and I never thought I would ever fall in love and do all of the crazy things that people in love do . .. . like sneak peeks at the cell phone history, search his apartment for “clues” to support the warning bells clamoring in my head, and forgive the infidelities. It makes you cry when you don’t even know why you are crying . ..  I always thought that women who did these things were so stupid and that they allowed men to have too much control in their lives.  Now, I am finding that I have fallen right down the rabbit hole into Crazyland with every other person on earth.

Love makes you do things you never imagined you would do.  I wonder what sort of crazy things everyone else has done.  . . .

Can you remeber what particular event took place in your life that made you realize . . . . you may love your job, but your job surely does not love you?  I was always taught that if you work hard and give everything you do your best effort, you would reap the rewards in the end.  So that is what I did.  I went to work everyday, gave my very best, and seemingly those efforts equaled to positive results.  However, one day I stepped outside the carefully constructed box that my employer had placed me in and the whole thing came crashing down.  Let me give you a little background. . .

I am a 31 year old black female that knows how to wear the appropriate mask when working in corporate America.  In short, I did not create any waves.  I think I flew under the radar, and I was given a nice pat on the head for the “model” employee I appeared to be. 

However; in September 2007, I chose to wear a button to work that said “Free the
Jena 6”.  From that day forward my life at the job changed, I was no longer considered a valuable employee because I chose to show support for a “racial issue” at the job.

I called into question the company policy that was used to request my removal of the button and since that event, a target was placed on my back.  While the flare up from that event seemingly died away, within three months, I found myself on the verge of termination.

It was hard to believe at first.  After all, I was a model employee.  I had been promoted numerous times in my three years with the company and I received rave reviews each year during the annual reviews.  Yet, suddenly one client issue was blown out of proportion and my professional integrity was slammed to the ground and run over by a steam roller numerous times. A five page document was written to support the company’s attestation that I was an incompetent employee and I was placed on a final warning . . . .the last train stop before you get permanently booted off of the ride.

I remember crying about the whole thing, thinking “how can they think this way about me over one mistake.”  But after the tears, my fighter instincts (and believe me, I’m no fighter) kicked into high gear.  Because I am no fighter, I could only due what I do best.  Fight back with words, documentation, and a complete belief in the righteousness of my outrage. 

I wrote a fourteen page document to refute the claims made by the company, took my concern to the EEOC, and despite how difficult it has been . . . .refused to simply quit and walk away.

Quitting and walking away is what they expected . . . . .and I couldn’t give them that . . . so now, I go to work each day. . . .no longer donning a mask. . . . give my best effort . . . .and try not to drown in the Worker Blues.  I await the outcome of my EEOC investigation which claims they treated me unequally when compared to other employees with same or similar infractions. 

The experience has taught me that I am stronger than I think and I don’t need the conditional accolades that my employer supplies to feel validated in the work I do.