Repetition

Okay, I am beginning to wonder if some things happen because I am prepared for them to happen, creating a cause/effect situation...  Or if they simply happen regardless of my preparation or lack thereof.  It is of course the latter.

After repeated behaviors one can begin to recognize a pattern. If the behaviors creating this pattern also happen to, without exception, cause emotional pain, drama, depression... you name the negative side effect, then one will tend to prepare/protect oneself from the effects of these behaviors.

Thus is the current situation. Having seen the pattern over and over again. The emotional distance, the constant criticism, the unpredictable behavior... the inability to communicate and the irrational high so apparent after causing some pain.  They say girls tend to marry or seek out partners that embody aspects of their fathers.  In this case it was clearly the aspects of the Mother that are being sought. Not quite sure why...would be an interesting conversation to have with a professional. But the similarities are astounding!

The same emotional blackmail and constant, slow torture.  One moment happy and delightful. The next, mean and hateful. Tearing up a room, telling a young child that if it weren't for her, the dreams of the mother could have been realized. Presently that manifests into: "If it weren't for you, I'd certainly have more funds to give to my family". My answer?..Give them to your family. Oh, wait, none of them really speak to you. And when they do, all they want is your money. Now I remember.

The armor against such arrows is well honed now. That is not to say that they don't sting or hurt anymore. But simply that less of them get through to the soft tissue underneath the skin, and that alone is a triumph.

What's love got to do with it? What is love but a second hand emotion...

Our Time has Come.... Part Deux

The evening of November 4th 2008 brought waves of emotion that I am still riding.

After my election party, I headed downtown San Diego to the victory party at the House of Blues. Mary and her son came with me...

Walking downtown you could see that there was something different. People were smiling.. And though it is not unusual for people to smile in San Diego, it is unusual for everyone to have a grin on their face. As I walked, I fist bumped some young black men on the corner.. I said to them "you're next"... why not? I ran into a young black woman who asked for money.. I didn't have much, but I gave her what change I had on me.. She grabbed me and hugged me and said "Things are going to be different now, sister". I believe she was right.

When Mary, Andrew and I got to the HOB the line was around the corner.. we waited a few minutes chatting with folks and swimming in the excitement of the moment. By the time we got to the door, the President Elect was speaking. I had to hear it... so I ran to a glass door, but could not get to other side.. I stood there and watched the speech, crying uncontrollably. I could see young Andrew watching me, but the tears would not stop, so I went with moment, and let it be.

Once the speech was over, the crowd inside dispersed and we were able to find seats. We all got a Stella Artois and settled in to take in the moment, the news pundits and our surroundings. I met a man who sat alone, drinking from a chalice, with flip flops and pedicured red painted, flower adorned toes, wearing a skull cap with fake braids hanging from it and smiling brightly. He came over and chatted a while, telling us how he has been working for the Obama campaign.. that he traveled to Nevada and Texas to sign folks up to vote, detailing what that experience was like...  (And my curiosity peaked as I pictured him in Texas, dressed as he was this evening... interesting interactions indeed!).  

After our braided friend, left our table, we finished our beers and headed back out into the streets to go home. People were still smiling, honking their horns and screaming "Obama"! Mary, and Andrew and I were recapping the evening when stopped at a crosswalk, with a crowd of strangers, one of them jumped into the street, aimed her camera at all of us and said "smile, i want a picture of all of you". We did, acting as if we were all old friends, it was hilarious and joyous and strange. I liked it.

At home, I could not sleep..I just watched the news until exhaustion took me gently into her arms and let me rest. 

The 44th President and first family...

Election Night Text messages

"We did it! Pres. Obama!"

"Girl, Girl, Girl..."

"Can you believe what is happening now?"

"Thanks b 2 God, and God be with Obama!"

"Yafucking hoooo!"

"Did you cry?"

"My heart is beating like I have been running a marathon"

"Maybe this can bring a greater hope to our brothers"

Our Time has Come.... Part 1

"Obama wins Historic US Election" BBC 

"Kenya Family in Party Mode for Obama" Kazakhstan news

I know that many will read this title and believe that, by that statement, I am saying that it is now the time for African Americans... But I really mean is that it is now "OUR" time. Our collective time to breathe..to exhale.  To look forward together to a new future. 

This day was amazing to me from the beginning.

New to my area, I was walking to find my polling place and met one of my neighbors, Maxine, for the first time. When she said she was headed to the polls I asked if I could walk with her. We chatted as we headed further into downtown. Maxine, an older white woman, told me a bit of her personal story... being 10 during the Great Depression, but remembering that it did not seem so bad, because everyone was so poor. How excited she was to vote today, and how her husband chides her for not voting absentee. As the rain fell, our votes cast, we separated into our collective day feeling good. A little apprehensive maybe, but good. Voting somehow does that to you...

"Barack Obama elu presidente: C'est votre victoire" Le Monde

Walking back from the polls in the light rain, I felt a little euphoric... Excited even. People on the street had the same look on their faces as they made their way home or to the voting booth. 

This evening, I drove over to a friend's home for an election party (and I am glad that I did). Marcia had all of the fixins for a good party... lots of food to nibble and a great area to watch the election in. It was an eclectic group of Black women... no men for some reason but Black women seem used to this dynamic. We joked and ate and told stories of our voting experience. We watched with high anticipation those electoral votes rack up on each side..red then blue.. Blue then red.. It was maddening! How could Louisiana be won by McCain anyway? I ask myself. My family is there and I know they are not voting Republican. I tend to forget all those other folk who live there... those not quite ready to let go of their Confederate Flags.

As we sat in the comfort of this space and company, we were prepared for a long night. 

"Obama sweeps to victory, says change has come to America: Japan Today

Then it happened. The CNN screen read: Barack Obama predicted President Elect....

After a few quiet moments of quizzical conversation... we broke out into spontaneous and collective screams.. The "predicted" part was removed from the headline and they told us that Barack Obama was our 44th President. 

My mobile began singing to me incessantly...  My Sister... when I answer she is screaming and we scream together...  My Mother and Father... when I answer they are crying, and I start to cry. They tell me this is an overwhelming experience. Having lived the Jim Crow years of this country and moved into the silent racist years.. none of thought we would live to see the day an African American would take the big desk at the White House.  More tears...

This is an extraordinary day and time to be alive.  Each time I think of it...the impact... the message it sends to each every person of color in this country...each and every young Black male who thinks there are no options... every little girl who can now see herself in that House.., I weep.

Gob Bless America

Time away...

Needed so very badly. Though the company I am keeping is poor at best, the surroundings are beautiful, the people friendly, sun warm and calming. I am excited to actually be taking time from work (and not working) to spend leisurely on the beach, by the pool..drinking margaritas and watching my skin darken in the chlorinated and salt waters that I stay immersed in.

My first vacation since last year, and I don't believe I will ever do that to myself again. Keep going and going, becoming more burned out with every hour, every antagonistic encounter. From here, I can recognize how grateful I am for my job, for the life that I have and for the ability to break from it when I need to.

Adios para ahora

Age of Discovery

A beautiful day in San Diego brought a my continued gratitude for living in this city.

I met a friend for brunch in one of my favorite little haunts in Hillcrest. We dined and chatted and watched the people go by. We walked around the district for a while afterwards, window and real shopping. I got my french magazine and she her book of civil rights poetry. I ducked into a furniture store that housed many items that peaked my desire. I left empty handed but full of ideas for my little condo.

We strolled back to the car and I decided that I would drop her off at her home rather than letting her catch the bus... This seemingly small, generous decision brought much more than I expected. As i said, my plan was to drop her off and head home to start my weekend cleaning.

I know now that she must trust our friendship, because inviting me into her home was a risk taking move. How can you determine how someone would react?

She opened the front door, and as quickly as my mouth dropped open in complete shock, I knew I had to pick it back up and pull myself together. Her home was filled, from floor to ceiling with ...stuff. New stuff, old stuff, junky stuff, good stuff.. but there was no space for living. it was like walking into an episode of Oprah. "Today, on the Oprah show, how clutter gets out of control and what you can do about it". But there was no Oprah, no cameras, no help from her team of experts. It was just me... my friend, and literally mountains of things.

There was no place to sit and only a narrow pathway carved throughout the dwelling that took you from one room to the next. Even the stairs were congested with shoes, papers, picture frames, you name it... so you had to stay close to the banister (which was alright with me). The voice in my head was screaming to get out.... seek freedom from this maze of madness. But my conscience told me to be patient and don't judge.. be a friend. I opted for the latter and it proved quite difficult...

I managed to pretend that everything was normal.. that, sure...lots of people live like this. Her kitchen was filled with dishes in both sides of the sink, every counter top was covered with dishes, boxes, towels..... I could not imagine how she maneuvers each day to get dressed and come to work. She is clean and smart and one would never suspect that there were any underlying issues. But they are there... deep seated and overwhelming. What can one person do at this point?

Jut try to be a friend and recognize if there are calls for help....

American Prayer

This video moves me to share with those who visit here...

With our markets and economy sinking deeper into Depression each hour.. 

With average Americans facing the deferment and even crumbling of their American Dreams..

Losing homes... jobs...retirement nest eggs... hope... And now being saddled with the enormous debt of corporate greed...

A prayer is in order...

So is your vote.

www.myamericanprayer.com

You are NOT my starship

No more. The Starship Enterprise has landed and all of its battles are shown on the aged facade that was once lit with bright lights..thick hair..and a modicum of decency... though not much. Its Captain Kirk, is long in the tooth and has nothing more to offer to the drama of life. He sits in front of a former paramour trying hard not to let the wear and tear show. But it is so apparent.. in that fact that the Captain, a former man's man, shows up unshaven and dressed like a college student..or worse someone living out of his car. Although the shower may be his friend, it seemed that he and his friend had not been on intimate terms of late.

The jealousy flamed in his eyes as he saw the state of his former love. She, simple and sweet... watches him and wonders... "What happened?" A man who had the world..the universe at his fingertips, blows it away like a bubble in the wind. She sees through his thin veil of bravado into the broken spirit of former glory.

The starship has landed and can never be restarted. The engine is dead. The crew has abandoned ship... and the Captain.... The Captain has committed theoretical suicide by the choices made on his many journeys...

I am my own Starship. And my journey has just begun.

*This is not regarding the Captain Kirk pictured here, but a true captain who lost his way*

What a Race

I have to confess that I am now officially afraid that the next election could bring the Beverly Hillbillies to Washington. Which for those voters is far better than bringing an African American to the White House... after all..it is the "White" house.  Nonetheless I must trust the system of a country that I love and have the right to criticize when necessary.  I must trust that whomever takes that seat in this new phase of government will at the very least do the better than the last 8 years...   We have entrenched ourselves so deeply in debt and war, while isolating ourselves from the rest of the world, it will take an amazing team to turn it around.

Bougainvilla Blooming

Impermanence

Today I learned of the death of a colleague of mine.
One with whom I have worked regularly...closely on occasion.
Whose accent I loved (beautiful African lilt), whose taste I envied..whose life was far
too short.. abbreviated by cancer. Of course to those who are left we think that the life lost should have had the gift of longevity. Maybe it was just the right amount of time to accomplish what she came here to do.

“Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of sight”
*Robert Worthington Raymond


“In her book, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics Danah Zohar proposes this alternative view of human immortality. In her chapter "The Survival of the Self: Quantum Immortality" Zohar explains that at the quantum level, when individual particles collide with other particles, they either become something new or "return to the source from which they sprang." But although the individual particle ceases to be what it originally was, its brief existence influences what it has now become.”

Inspiration in Movement

How lucky I was...

Last minute tickets available to see the Alvin Ailey Dance Theatre at the Orange County Performing Arts Center this weekend.

What an amazing display of beauty, talent and grace. Telling stories of hardship, triumph, love and praise without speaking a word, but shouting with the synchronicity of their bodies in motion.

It brought tears to my eyes to watch them make the impossible seem so easy.

See them for yourself one day....

Soon

Another day in Paradise

Winter in San Diego

....

Reality Check Please!

A flurry of activity, all work related. 

Hiring new staff, sending out rejection letters to those who did not make the cut. Figuring out what happened to all of course approvals and how are we going submit our academic files on time when half of the half time team is out of the office. 

Don't forget Black History Month activities. How am I going to write this speech, pick up our keynote speaker, right after meeting with an obviously disturbed student who wants to come back after ten years absence to get her credential...now

Then I talk to my sister. 

She just attended a funeral of a 43 year old man. He was on his way to pick his 3 kids up from school. He was killed instantly in a head on collision.  The service was inspiring from my sisters account. The Reverend speaking in that beautiful way black preachers have about them. His message: Live your life because although you may not make the appointment, you will certainly not miss your appointment with death.  We can go at exit 7, 35, 43, or 75. Most often we don't know which will be our exit on this highway of life.

I like that metaphor. I connected with it.

Then my sister told me that she got a call from her doctor.  You see, she has been suffering a number of symptoms that concerned her for some time. She confirmed today that she has fibroids on her uterus and is recommended for a hysterectomy.

I was stunned. Happy that it was not cancer or something horrific like that, knowing that this is pretty bad in itself. But this, you can recover from, I am taking comfort in that. Before this, it was my sister who sat online researching what all of her symptoms could mean. Alternately frightening and relieving herself with these attempts at self diagnosis. Now it is me....online finding out what happens during this procedure, what to expect... what is going on?!

Deep breath...

A Journey of 1000 miles....

begins with the first step. Lao Tzu

This morning at 7am, I was the first to arrive at my polling station. The 70 year old man in charge was still getting his crew of 4 prepared for the voters. Before officially opening, I watched them take an oath to be honest in the process. I was excited. This is the first time in my voting life that I have the opportunity to vote for a truly viable African American candidate, that I support. Obama is certainly not the first African American to run for Commander in Chief of these United States. There was Shirley Chisolm in 1972, Jesse Jackson, Alan Keyes, Al Sharpton (come on now) and Carolyn Mosley Braun have all run for the post. None have reached this phase that Obama has today. In the lifetime of my parents, who lived in segregation, who picked cotton in their youth to make money... they have the opportunity to vote for a Black man for President of these United States. And I love his slogan... "Yes We Can!"



To make it even more interesting, we have viable qualified female candidate. This is like a sea change, a paradigm shift that truly is incredible, and I am so happy to be here, experiencing it.

So I voted. Tears came to me as I drove away in my car... Let's hope it counts.

Walking through the halls at work, I felt lighter...confident.. 'yes I can'...
As I turned the corner, there was a nice looking lady waiting in the lobby area with her computer talking with our director. The director stopped me and said, "Pamela, have you met Sally Ride?" My internal voice screamed "Sally Ride! my goodness, the first female astronaut! I want your autograph!" All of this while externally I smiled, shook her hand and told her how wonderful it was to meet her. That we were so excited to have her on faculty now as Emerti. She was gracious and funny.

A day of firsts to be sure. Of emotions that are difficult to share. Of hope...confidence....historical precedence. A Black History Month to remember.

Today, whatever your political affiliation... I hope you took the time to cast your vote. To help lay the path to the future.

The Power of Dreams

This is the time of year when the national spotlight is focused on celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King, Black History overall with particular attention to the Civil Rights Movement in these United States. Although it is now a National Holiday, celebrated in each state except Arizona, it really is not a “vacation” day in the traditional sense of how those days are spent.

These days are spent in introspection, retrospection, prayer and celebration. Honoring our ancestors who paid the high price of slavery and oppression. Who fought the terrible fight that we continue today, for freedom. The luxury of the ”majority” population is the convenience of putting whole cultures in a box, boxes that encompass a week or month in which they pay attention, or not, to Black History, Chicano/Latino History, Native American History… But those boxes don’t contain the experiences of any culture, as we live each day pursuing the freedoms and breaking the chains that continue to bind us.

Early this morning, I attended the All Peoples Breakfast in San Diego. A ballroom filled with diversity and love. ..Good humor protest and gospel songs…. Filled with the possibilities of the Dream. The keynote speaker was Odetta, an African American folk singer who Martin Luther King dubbed the “Queen of Folk music” and of whom Maya Angelou said the following:

"If only one could be sure that every 50 years a voice and a soul like Odetta's would come along, the centuries would pass so quickly and painlessly we would hardly recognize time."

She began her speech with the audience joining her in singing “This little light of mine”. And it was a surprise to me how powerful that children’s song is. Her words served as a fresh shot of oxygen for all of our spirits.

Afterwards, I thought it would be a good day to go the movies. I chose the “Great Debaters” to round out my day. As I sat in the theater surrounded by much older Caucasians watching a film that was unapologetic in its depiction of the reality of life in the early part of the 20th century. I felt my own minority status in this place surrounded by people who could have actively participated in these scenes during their lifetimes. In the end my heart was warmed by the response of this audience who stood up an applauded as the credits rolled. I left the theater with my back a little straighter and my head a little higher. Convinced that I can do anything…those before me have paved the way and it is my duty to continue to lay the path for those coming after me.

A renewed spirit. A gladdened heart. A recommitment.