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All posts for the month August, 2015

Hold my breath

Published August 26, 2015 by hrhdana

Sometimes I hold my breath

heart racing

watching my little girl

be free in the world.

And I wish I could remember

a time when I was.

And I wonder when

will it happen to her?

The first time

someone gives her the stank eye

for nothing more than her melanin.

It will happen.

I hold my breath

I wonder when?

When?

Ntozake said it best in For Colored Girls,

“Ever since I realized there was someone called a colored girl,

or an evil woman, a bitch, or a nag,

I’ve been trying not to be that,

and leave bitterness in someone else’s cup.”

But lately even sweet tea

tastes like bitterness to me.

I’m hurting.

Agony.

And I’m at a complete loss

on how to build my

beautiful,

confident,

smart,

amazing,

sensitive

little girl

strong enough that she can’t be broken

but not too strong

that her very existence is a challenge

to those who would

murder her

with impunity.

It’s a conundrum with no solution I can see.

And I can’t even exhale fully.

I can’t breathe

Sometimes I hold my breath.

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Down the rabbit hole

Published August 17, 2015 by hrhdana

Next month my Lil Bit is going to be four years old. I LOVE birthdays. I dislike children’s parties very much. LOL They are usually loud and crazy and expensive. Ever since I had a kid I’ve been looking at ways to celebrate that will make her happy and won’t make me insane. It’s a fine line folks.

For her 1st birthday we went to Puerto Rico. It was awesome and perfect. We spent the day on the beach. We chilled out. There was zero stress and everyone had a ball. We had a cake when we came back from P.R. with just family. I wanted to make traveling for her birthday our birthday tradition but when 2 rolled around money was scarce. I got roped in to the dreaded house party. It was loud and messy and by the end of the day she and I wanted to have huge tantrums. LOL I resolved not to do that again for as long as possible.

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Last year we went apple picking. I think I stumbled on to the perfect party for us. It was low maintenance. The kiddos had a blast. People could arrive whenever they wanted to. The setting was beautiful. I actually got to have conversations with the adults in attendance. Everyone left happy and tired. So this year we are going to do it again.

Phone dump March 2015 680
Then the kid threw a wrench in my plans.

“Mommy, can I have a My little pony party for my birthday?”

“I thought you wanted to go apple picking again this year.”

“I do but I want my little pony too”

Okay, I thought. I can do this. I’ll still do the apple orchard but I’ll buy SOME my little pony decorations and call it a day.

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If you know me you already know that this plan has dissolved in to madness. LOL I can see how parents go insane with the party planning. I have fallen down the rabbit hole. She wants My Little Pony. There must be My Little Pony. Right? I’ve already ordered a dress for her in keeping with the theme. I’ve started buying MLP stuff for goodie bags. I’ve enlisted a cake maker to make a MLP cake. I’ve been on Oriental Trading and Party city websites looking for MLP tablecloths and cups and plates and napkins. I’ve looked in to a face painter who can make MLP facepaintings. I even looked in to MLP characters to come to the party in the damn apple orchard! I need HELP! I have fallen down the kid party rabbit hole and I can not find the exit!

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Where oh where has my chill gone? Where oh where can it be? LOL

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I’d do anything to make my kid happy. I really would but I am stopping myself. She will be FOUR! I don’t even remember my 4th birthday party. I have no illusions that I can or should make it grand enough for HER to remember. I am putting myself on party planning time out.

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We will go apple picking. She will wear her dress. There will be goodie bags. There will be cake. Everyone will go home with apples and Mommy WILL retain her sanity.

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Anyone know how to block party planning websites? Because even as I prepare to hit post I’m wondering about some cupcakes I saw on Pinterest and I’ve almost convinced myself that I can make them. Mommy down! Mommy down!

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Send help!!!!!!

She holds my hand

Published August 11, 2015 by hrhdana

We walk to the bus every morning.

Monday through Friday.

I am so lucky.

She holds my hand.

Sometimes

proudly

fiercely

reverently

lovingly.

She clings to me.

When something catches her eye

a spiderweb,

a beautiful flower,

or even a

a beetle

she lets go.

Runs to explore.

Her face lights up.

3 year old exclaiming

MOMMY LOOK AT THIS!!!

And I look.

When she is ready to go again

she reaches for my hand.

I am lucky.

Today my right hip is wet.

It’s raining.

Her umbrella comes right up to my hip.

And even though she was holding it

tightly

excitedly

She had to hold my hand

TOO.

She holds my hand.

Her umbrella bumps against my hip,

It’s wet.

I don’t complain.

Grounded in the moments where

she holds my hand

as if there were no other way to

walk down the street.

She holds my hand.

And even with my wet hip.

I smile big.

She holds my hand.

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Warrior Women

Published August 10, 2015 by hrhdana

“I just don’t believe that when people are being unjustly oppressed that they should let someone else set rules for them by which they can come out from under that oppression.”
Malcolm X

On Saturday Marissa Johnson and Mara Willaford interrupted Bernie Sanders at a rally in Seattle. As he prepared to take the mic the women jumped on the stage and demanded the right to speak. Sanders ceded the stage to the women. Marissa went on to give a passionate speech about the Black Lives Matter movement. She said she wanted to talk about how racist Seattle is but some in the crowd had already done that for her with their jeers and screams of, “arrest them.” Really? Arrest them?!!  With EVERYTHING going on right now people actually called for the arrest of these two women for grabbing the mic at a rally. Arrest them? How positively clueless.

I watched the internet explode. A day that was supposed to be filled with remembrances and lessons learned from the murder of Mike Brown in Ferguson was completely derailed by a bevy of clueless allies who didn’t get it and a gaggle of scared Black people who wanted these women to be more polite. There were copious tears for Bernie. “He’s been so good to us.” “He is the only candidate who cares about us and our issues.” “Why attack an ally?” And my personal favorite, “Bernie must have been so frightened. It was like an assault.”

housewives-roll

Here’s my take on things..
Bernie is the one constantly mentioning how he has fought for civil rights all of his life. I mean seriously, it should be part of his name if we counted the frequency with which he and his supporters use this as his claim to fame. The REASON Black people should vote for Bernie is that he cares about “our” issues. If this is true then he wouldn’t be so caught off guard by the passion in the two interruptions he has experienced. Sanders responded that he was, “especially disappointed because on criminal justice reform and the need to fight racism there is no candidate who will fight harder than me.” (Quoted from here)

How can you fight when you won’t listen? How can you fight if you don’t understand the passion and yes the ANGER that we are feeling in this exact moment in time? An ally amplifies the voices of the people they are supporting. An ally uses their privilege to make sure that the voices of the people they are standing with are heard loud and clear. An ally is supposed to be a bridge to others who do NOT understand. Those people were there to hear Bernie. He could have done a number of things to earn his status as an ally. He did none. He ceded the stage. He didn’t share it.

Sanders wants us to see him as a civil rights warrior but war isn’t polite. We are fighting for our lives. If you want to appeal to us as a voting block by using your record as a civil rights crusader then you should not be this tone deaf. You should not be this divorced from the emotion propelling this fight to every stage in America. You should not run. You should not wag your finger. You should not expect us to be composed when we are being murdered in the streets. You should understand that there are a gamut of responses to injustice and not all of them are polite.

To those of you wondering why these women choose Sanders and not some other candidate I can’t answer with certainty. No one has interviewed these women. Shit, just finding their names was a struggle. I’d imagine it was because HE was in Seattle. It’s probably because he CLAIMS to be down with us. I’d posit it’s because they thought he would listen and care. I’d think it’s because he is being touted as an ally. But their reasons don’t even matter to me. Sanders is not my savior. He is a man running for the office of president in a country currently experiencing an internal conflict of epic proportions. He is the candidate everyone keeps telling us Black people is our best choice. He is the candidate who keeps highlighting his work on civil rights like a line on his resume.

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Listen folks, I know Black anger is scary to a bunch of people. Shit, even some Black people are uncomfortable with it. I listen to our young people. A huge segement of them are FED up. They are angry. They are TIRED of asking politely for people to stop murdering us with impunity. They are tired of wondering who is going to be the next hashtag and they are ready to tear shit up. I worry for them. What I will not do is silence them. What I will not do is judge them. What I will not do is tell them to be safe. NONE of us are safe right now and we all know it. Respectability politics is bullshit.

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Yesterday I saw so many white people claim they would no longer support Black Lives Matter because they were disgusted by the behavior of TWO Black women. Listen, if that was all it took to take you out of the fight for Black lives then you were never in it. You were NEVER with us. Yesterday I saw some Black people use words like “embarrassed” to express their feelings about these two women’s refusal to be silenced. If you are Black and you were embarrassed by two women willing to put their necks on the line to get a message to power I honestly have no clue what to even do with you. Do you honestly believe that Sanders is going to be our savior? Do you honestly believe that we should be GRATEFUL to those in power who pay lip service to believing that our LIVES actually fucking matter? Do you believe that so called allies using our fucking civil rights struggle as a resume entry don’t have to DO anything else? Man listen, all skinfolk ain’t kinfolk!

Oh and for those of you lamenting that, this is NOT the way to get change or to get a candidate to listen to your concerns…

This was Bernie Sanders’ website BEFORE Marissa and Mara stormed the stage.

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And this is what it looked like after they spoke truth to power.

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Here’s to warrior women. May we love them. May we support them. May we raise them. May we BE them!

Any war has to be fought on multiple fronts. These women chose theirs. Where and how are YOU fighting?

Cookies

Published August 6, 2015 by hrhdana

Today when I came in to work there were cookies.

Beautiful, light, airy cookies.

I decided I would eat them all day long.

I grabbed a handful of these generous sized cookies.

I hid them in a paper towel on my desk.

I smiled.

I haven’t done that often.

Hasn’t been much sweet or right in my life lately.

I smiled.

I finished my first handful by noon.

So,

I went and got more.

I giggled.

Glad that the office was almost empty today.

I ate cookies all day long.

Literally all day long.

Saving the last bite for 10 to five

and

as soon as I finish typing this

the cookies will be all gone.

I ate almost every single cookie on that dish.

They were meant to be shared with the office.

I give no fucks.

I’m so close to the fucking edge lately.

Today

cookies saved me.

Don’t judge me.

Nah, go ahead.

I don’t care.

I have that one bite left.

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