Monday, December 28, 2009
A certain knavish troll welcomed this bitch back from my cyber vacation with an email asking…
1. Why this bitch is so intolerant when Democrats are supposed to be tolerant?
2. Why a bitch is so angry when Democrats are supposed to be peaceful?
Just for form a bitch must point out to my troll that all black people aren’t Democrats, I have a job, I don’t have any children so I certainly don’t have ten of 'em up in a one room apartment, I’m not on public assistance (nothing wrong with that, by the damned way) and black people aren’t the only people who need public assistance, I’ve never been incarcerated…umm, oh yeah…and a bitch was born in Minnesota so I am “home”, motherfucker.
Do y’all have a playbook for this shit…I’m just curious because you’re predictable as a motherfucker.
Now, normally a bitch would not answer the questions of a knave…but since non-knavish folks have also asked these questions and I’ve been meaning to revisit them, I’m going to make an exception.
Why this bitch is so intolerant when Democrats are supposed to be tolerant?
A bitch is not a Democrat.
I’m a liberal who often votes for Democrats…and there is a difference.
The world needs both…party loyalists and liberals. Lose one – like Republicans who strayed far away from fiscal conservatism in order to seduce social value voters in a quest for power at any cost– and you may just lose your soul.
Lose your soul – like Republicans whom, had they not strayed far away from fiscal conservatism in order to seduce social value voters in a quest for power at any cost, would be cashing in on Democratic fuck ups right now – and you’ll become a political party in name only, minus any workable definition or policy and led by folksy media creations lacking intellect, philosophy and integrity.
I reject the school of tolerance.
A body tolerates a stench…and only for as long as it has to.
Me and mine are not something to “tolerate” nor do I wish to “tolerate” others.
I seek to understand and, if that understanding reveals extreme rancidity, I do not tolerate it.
The school of tolerance is kryptonite to true social change…so yes; I reject the hell out of it.
Now to a question of my own – why the fuck do people who do not know liberals and do not listen to liberals always try to define that which they do not know or listen to or even have a workable understand of?
Why a bitch is so angry when Democrats are supposed to be peaceful?
Refer to my first answer regarding that Democrat thing.
As for anger and peace…now that’s a great question!
Anger is a normal and healthy emotion that I long suppressed because society does not suffer an angry black woman to live long and prosper. But then I realized that society wasn’t taking shit seriously because too many folks were attempting to discuss very important shit sans emotion. ‘Tis freakish to observe – passionate people dispassionately debating shit like basic civil rights, oppression and injustice as if it is all just abstract theory and people’s lives aren’t hanging in the balance. And the response to such freakish debates is perfectly understandable – people response in kind, casually pondering these life-in-balance things much like one ponders what movie to see because the discussion has been presented as not all that important or…wait for it…folks would be angry about it.
Well I am worked up about reproductive justice. I am incapable of separating my emotions from the movement. I see the faces of people I know and care about…I feel the weight of the impact policy has on people’s lives and bodies and prospects…and I get angry or joyful or depressed or inspired.
I feel…because there’s nothing abstract or distant about this shit.
Just because I get angry doesn’t mean I become incapable of functioning. That’s rage and rage can force an activist into an emotional spin that gets you nowhere and gets you there fast.
As much as anger must be allowed a public appearance, folks must also not settle for public displays of anger or full on fits of rage.
That’s why I practice the fine art of bitchitude!
I am an activist who blogs…I take my values out of storage and live them…and I blog about that shit so that folks know that first you get angry, then you get wise and then you go do something about the shit that you got angry and wise about.
People who don't know any Democrats and can not accurately name a single plank of the Democratic Party's platform should not attempt to define Democrats.
Anger is different from rage and a bitch didn't sign a School of Tolerance Agreement for All Black People Who Pledge to Not Be Angry Even When Confronted with Shit the Makes Normal People Angry As Hell document at the last Official Meeting of Black Folk - Maintaining the Monolith conference.
A fool tolerates a stench and never cleans up the stankified bullshit that’s causing the stink.
An activist organizes the masses to remove the bull from the room it’s been shitting in.
And if you’re not angry you’re not paying attention.
Thanks for asking!
A bitch took several days off from the internets and all things news-based…and I fed like a freshly made vampire while consuming vast quantities of vodka cran and bourbon.
Yep, that was exactly what this bitch needed!
Anyhoo, now I have the week off from work and I’m catching up on life…working on my book proposal…and spending quality time with the sorta-beagles.
Stay tuned for extreme bitchitude, chil’ren!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The young man is a regular volunteer at a local shelter for abandoned pets. He noticed the increase in the number of pets being given up at the shelter and asked why it was happening. The answer was clear – folks are having trouble making ends meet and they are giving up their pets because they can’t afford to feed them.
Now, some folks may have responded to that news and the increased need for resources at the shelter by organizing donations to the shelter…and a bitch fully supports donating goods and money to local animal shelters because Betsey the sorta-beagle and her cousin Sweetie the three-legged chow are both former shelter dawgs.
But I also adore the solution this young man came up with…he started a food bank at the animal shelter.
I love this lesson in problem solving because it demonstrated a true understanding of the problem and it also helps the shelter out.
People who are struggling get to keep their pet companions…and feed them through donations until they are back on their feet financially.
The shelter, which was struggling to provide services to the increased numbers of abandoned pets, get relief and also gets to connect with and educate folks from the community who obviously love their pets and are concerned about animal welfare.
And the pet companions get to stay with their loved ones and provide their special pet-based support during these hard times.
I love this shit!
A fluff of the Afro to Zach and to everyone volunteering at, donating to or withdrawing from pet food banks across the country!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Fuck a duck!
'Tis almost gift-giving-frenzification day and my Afro is deflated, y’all.
I’ve been thinking about resolutions for 2010 and I’ve decided to make some.
Shark-fu’s 2010 Resolutions
I resolve to keep on keeping it real. Social justice is my work and my personal mission…so, even though being a social justice activist is a major motherfucking downer right now…and even though it feels like folks are pissing in my Corn Flakes from all sides…I’m all in.
Fuck it…they call it a struggle for a reason.
I resolve to continue practicing the fine art of bitchitude.
This February I will celebrate…celebrate?...yeah fuck it all, celebrate five years of blogging.
A lot has changed for the better in five years and a lot has been revealed to be teetering on the brink of absolute fubarity. But I know, deep in my core, that being an activist who blogs is the right thing to do and the right way to do it.
I resolve to finish damn my book proposal before the end of the year.
Yeah, I know that’s not exactly a New Years resolution…but fuck it, I’m resolving it anyway!
And I resolve to take better care of myself (wink).
This past year I’ve given up sleep…evenings…weekends…mornings…one-on-one time with my dawgs…social time with friends and family…all of that shit for a fight that is far from over.
I take comfort from the knowledge that I’m not the only one…that, even as I wallow in a vat of extreme weltschmerz, there are so many people working hard as hell to make this world a better place.
After a few days off I’ll be re-energized enough to recommit…
…and recommit is exactly what I’ll do.
Because the one thing I did right was the day I started to fight, y’all!
Oh hell yes, they are still on the prize.
You can bet your ass it’s raised high toward the sky…
***logs off to piddle the dawgs, tend to a seriously deflated Afro and get the day started***
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I have been an adult without health care insurance and I have too many friends to count who do not have health insurance coverage right now.
Should I lose my job I would lose my coverage…and, because of my pre-existing condition, I would not be able to buy coverage on the open market.
That’s not speculation…I’ve looked into it and my black ass wasn’t able to get a nibble at multiple ponds.
So, I’m saying this from a place of vulnerability and I want all y’all who read this to know that.
There must be a line…a wall to hit…or the struggle for reproductive justice is merely a suggestion.
It's just a request.
A thing that gets mentioned politely whenever health care is being discussed.
"Oh, would you mind not throwing women under the bus while you get your reform on?"
"Could you, pretty please, not mandate that women purchase health care insurance that fails to cover the full spectrum of reproductive health care services?"
"Would you be so kind as to not leave military women uncovered…again…to not leave women uniquely worse off after healthcare reform than we were before you started?"
There must be a line…and it galls me to even write that because I hate negotiating from a place of “let’s fight like mad for the status quo, y'all!”
But there must be a line…a wall…a place that is acceptable and then the place right in front of it that is unacceptable.
The Senate has crossed that line.
This health care reform bill, negotiated on the backs of women and soon to be presented for a vote with political boots placed firmly on the throat of reproductive justice, is unacceptable.
I’m saying that knowing full well what’s at stake…because women’s health is not worth less than the health of others.
And I’m saying that knowing that there but for my current benefit package go I…because I’ve had to use my insurance to pay for fibroid surgery that would have bankrupted me otherwise or that I would have not been able to have for financial reasons despite the dire consequences.
I oppose the Senate health care reform bill on the grounds that, in its current form, it violates the rights of women.
I oppose the Senate health care reform bill on the grounds that, in its current form, it singles out a legal medical procedure for unprecedented restrictions thus inviting the United States government into every doctor’s office so they can tell women and their health care providers what the Senate thinks is best for them…right for them…healthy for them…or not approved for coverage like it used to be and currently is even though it is legal in this country.
I oppose the Senate health care reform bill because,at the very least, it should not leave women worse off that we were before reform began…because women helped elect these fools to the Senate and, to vary a quote from my beloved Grandmere, “we brought your asses into office and we can vote your asses out.”
I am disgusted…disappointed…not surprised but not defeated either.
So, don’t tell me that we …women…should take one for the team.
Don’t tell me that we…women…should casually allow government to roll back the clock on legal rights people risked their lives to gain because women’s lives were, and should this legislation pass in its current form will once again, be at stake.
Don’t tell me to make a compromise that, in the same situation, you would not make and, funny enough, were not asked to make because it’s never The Man being told his vasectomy won’t be covered or his Viagra won’t be covered or his prostate surgery won’t be covered.
No, it’s women…time after motherfucking time…who are told that our reproductive health care must be uniquely regulated, despite legality, by The Man…and that we, despite our needs and that same curiously overlooked egality, must take one for the team…again.
‘Cause a team without women is fucked from jump anyway.
There must be a line…
...a wall to hit…
...or all that is the movement for reproductive justice is just a silly social circle of idealistic little children tossing out suggestions to the amusement of their paternalistic rulers.
Take a step back.
And then another.
And then another followed by one more until all of the sudden the only people benefiting from health care reform are the affluent straight white men of power who were already sitting pretty when this reform shit began.
Or the affluent women who can fly elsewhere to access the reproductive health care they opposed for form but would use at the drop of a dime...make that a lot of dimes...should they find themselves in need of the services they would deny the rest of us.
Yeah, fuck that.
I didn’t just work my ass off for an entire year...longer if you count the election...to make "change" that leaves women worse off.
Hold the line, people.
Defend the wall, y'all.
This is about our rights, enforced by law, until it isn’t.
And it'll be a cold day in Hades when I give them up without a fight...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Longtime readers know that a bitch’s older brother is autistic.
This one goes out to journalists who report on autism and to my fellow members of the autism spectrum community.
My brother Bill is damn near 40. Lawd, have mercy. He’s profoundly autistic, aphasic and a fantabulous adult.
I want you all to think about that for a moment.
My brother is an adult.
He’s going to be 40 years old next year. Autism is a communication disorder...despite some youthful behaviors, autism will not prevent my brother from experiencing all the physical shit that comes with aging.
Autism is not a childhood disorder.
Autistic kids do not grow out of it. I don’t give a shit about celebrities who claim otherwise or books that speculate about blah, blah and another blah.
The current reality is that autistic kids will become autistic adults.
I learned this morning that a study is about to be release that found that there has been a significant increase in youth diagnosed with autism…and I learned that shit through a report that focused on early diagnosis (a god thing) and children with autism (a logical starting point) but stopped there (the very definition of wrongness, because autism is not a childhood disorder).
I’m not pissing in the Corn Flakes of the cure community.
Go forth and get your research on, y’all!
But my brother is gonna be 40 years old and our life is not a scene from the movie Awakenings…we live our lives in the real…in the here and now that includes a never ending lack of funding, programs, options and support.
The autism spectrum disorder community must stand up and include the needs of autistic adults in their policy and research appeals.
I can speak from personal experience…parents do NOT want to wait for their child to become and adult to address the needs of autistic adults.
Any increase in diagnosis increases the urgency of the need for society to look beyond the first 18 years and at the needs of autistic adults too.
So, I’m saying it here and now…I’m making a request – when journalists report on a study that says the autism rate is going up please include some shit about what that means for society in the future, about the needs of autistic adults too and you might want to toss in a profile of a family with an autistic adult so viewers can better understand that shit.
Time is not standing still on this issue…and this bitch wouldn’t wish the anxiety and frustration over care and finding programs and funding the programs we find and getting comprehensive medical coverage and maintaining nutritional support and so forth and so on that my sister and I currently go through on anyone.
Plus listening to reports that neglect to touch on autistic adults makes my Afro hurt.
***steps down from soap box***
Thursday, December 17, 2009
A bitch just read this piece on the minority “tipping point”, about when white people will no longer be a majority in America, and…well, I found this shit to be illuminating.
Some folks felt 2008 was the Great Post-Racial Happening of All Time…they rode a wave of “we’re finally beyond race!” and “we have overcome” all the way to the inauguration…well, some folks did.
Other folks watched a large chunk of Americans indulge in public displays of ig’nance over immigration reform and the election of the nation’s first president of color.
As much as the post-racialists work my last nerve, I understand that lots of them are so desperate to see society as getting “better” on race relations that they latched onto the election of President Obama like a sorta-beagle on a meaty bone and are holding on tight as hell…like a sorta-beagle with a meaty bone.
There aren’t two warring realities here…there’s just the reality that
Full disclosure for the uninitiated – if you haven’t caught on, I’m not into that post-racial bullshit. Blackness isn’t something folks need to learn to tolerate or get past. That’s the stinkin’ thinkin’ that got us right where we are – trying to speak some post-racialism into being rather than doing the hard work of social justice.
Anyhoo, 2009 did a damn good job of demonstrating the hell out of just how post-racial
That brings me back to that minority tipping point news!
Methinks the tipping point may be responsible for some of the bigot-based ig’nance.
Catch thy knee…a bitch isn’t saying the looming deadline in 2050 of a minority majority is solely responsible. Clearly some folks are just ig’nant…were raised to be ig’nant or fell into an ig’nant social circle at school (just say NO to ig’nance, kids!) or just like the way being an ig’nant motherfucker feels.
But others are probably looking at the population shifts…consciously or unconsciously feeling them in their community, at the grocery store or the Walgreen’s on the corner…and that shit has triggered an auto-ig’nance response in them that is as American as apple-pie with lots of vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce on the side.
This has all happened before…
…this will all happen again.
For example…and yes, I know this is a bit dated but more recent references also exist (that’s why the gods created the Google)…the East St. Louis race riot of 1917 was triggered by racism and fears that black workers would take jobs from white workers for lower pay. Blacks were moving North and settling in St. Louis and all hell broke out between May and July of 1917…resulting in an estimated 100 deaths (many feel that number is low) and all kinds of property damage and a pattern of labor hostility that hasn’t left since.
…and it links directly to the threat of a shift in available labor…and, interestingly, to the accepted fact that blacks worked the same jobs for less pay.
Now, all those rioters could have nipped that anxiety in the bud by demanding equal pay for equal work…but that would have been too much like right and totally unheard of is a state famous for fighting the Civil War before there was a Civil War and for still fighting the Civil War even though the Civil War is long over.
Lawd, don’t get me started.
History provides many examples of an increase in bigot-based ig’nance when populations shift…so, it comes as no surprise that the current anti-immigration trend is happening just as this tipping point bitness is revealing itself in the faces and languages of neighbors and co-workers.
What I find interesting is the assumption held by the ig’nant that current minorities will fuck them over when they reach a majority. One group taking the top spot is a fucked up interpretation of the population shift…one minority group will not make up a new majority, unless I’m missing something. My understanding is that one minority group may be the largest group within the minority majority (is your Afro hurting yet?).
The way I see it, multiple minority populations representing multiple cultures becoming the majority in
And lest we forget, there was a time before the white man in
Anyhoo, this bitch is bracing for more public displays of bigot-based ig’nance as change continues to happen…
…even as I look forward to, Gawd willing, seeing the point tip and all the after that will follow.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
In the dream, a gaggle of Catholic bishops were at a press conference where they declared that the church was going to withdraw social services from the entire state of Florida until the state banned divorce.
Mmmhmm, and they said they’d be denying communion to the faithful if they golfed or purchased anything Nike-based…and then they said that Florida needed to address the weakening of sanctified man-on-woman marriage resulting from The Great Tiger Woods Infidelity Transgression Against the Institution of Marriage, golf, several major brands and His Wife.
They condemned the press for casually discussing whether Elin Woods should get divorced...and threatened to deny communion to anyone caught pondering that shit…and urged the faithful to report on their friends and neighbors if they catch them pondering the dissolution of the Woods marriage or their own marriage or man-on-woman marriage in general.
And they ended that shit by cackling that, now that they thought about it some more, Catholic social services were going to be withheld from the entire country because of it’s tolerance for man-on-woman divorce.
Mmmhmm, and the dream was in color too!
But alas ‘twas just a dream that I knew wasn’t for real even while I was dreaming it because you know and I know that you know and a bitch knows that those hateful motherfuckers only threaten to punish the poor when the gays try to get legally married.
It’d be too much like right to threaten that shit over society’s acceptance of and legal support for the termination of man-on-woman marriage.
Speaking of the church’s threat to punish to poor because DC decided to support marriage equality instead of submit to…well, the dictates of the church…cough…if there has ever been a better example of why we need to replace these church-based institutions that shamelessly tie a community’s adherence to dogma with access to social services, I’d like to see it.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
My beloved St. Louis Blues hockey club has struggled at home. I was at the last game and it was the very definition of BRUTAL (wince).
Shit, the third period made my Afro hurt and the only good thing about the game was that it was such an absolute hockey fail that it obviously isn’t about basic skills but is more likely sourced somewhere in minds of the players.
Yeah, it was that bad.
So, tonight the St. Louis Blues will honor Brett Hull and his getting into the Hockey Hall of Fame…major hockey greats are in town…and we’ve struggled at home but are about to take the ice against those Flames.
Fuck a duck, ‘tis time for a bitchfirmation for the Blues!
Okay boys. This is your barn…your ice, damn it. This is where others will fear you and where the folks in the seats adore you. This is where you shine and play like hockey gods. A bitch knows that fans and the press have been all over you like white on rice because of the home record thus far...fuck that shit. Fuck it! What’s past is in the record books and tonight is yours to define.
Be audacious, be intense and be Blues. Mmmhmm, so go on with your badass hockey playing selves!
And congrats to Brett Hull on joining the Hockey Hall of Fame!
I recently posted about a new study that found parents wait too damn long to talk to their chil’ren about sex.
That’s not news to those of us who volunteer or work with youth…but it makes sense that it would be news to the parents who are waiting too long to talk to their chil’ren about sex. Many parents wouldn’t know they waited too long unless something sex related happened…and even then they may not associated their not having talked to their chil’ren about sex with their chil’ren exploring sex armed with inaccurate information from their friends (example – drinking a certain soda pop right after sex prevents pregnancy) or dangerous information (example – you can tell by looking whether someone has a sexually transmitted disease).
I woke up this morning to the Good Morning America folks teasing the parents wait too damn long to talk to their chil’ren about sex story…and Lawd, there sure is a delay between when a story breaks on the web to when it filters it’s happy ass down to the morning shows. Listening to the tease made me ponder the other angle and how it indicts a long held anti-choice “value” that sex education should be left to the parents.
There are some communities where a teen can’t get a license to drive unless they take a driver’s education class. Those communities have learned that, even though parents drive their own asses around and have for years, they aren’t automatically the best motherfuckers to teach their teens how to do the same damn thing.
The same holds true for sex education…the difference is that there is an anti-knowledge campaign that’s been going on for years that seeks to teach parents that sex education is dangerous, that supplementing parental teachings with a formal medically accurate award winning sex education program is even more dangerous and that empowering youth to become sexually literate throughout their lives is part of a socialist plot to take over the blah, blah and another blah…um, just say no.
So, not only are parents waiting too long to talk to their chil’ren about sex...when they have the talk many of them have been discouraged from actually talking about sex.
Pause…allow to marinate…continue.
Because telling a teen to not have sex without explaining what sex is…well, that’s a lot like telling a teen to not ruin their credit without telling them how credit gets fucked up.
And there’s more.
Not only are parents waiting to long to have “the talk” (and Gawd help us if people really think a single talk that involves a parent saying “Don’t do it!” and a teen saying “Yeah, sure…what ever…can I play NHL 10 on the PS3 now?” is gonna do a damn thing)…not only are abstinence only until man-on-woman sanctified married parents telling their chil’ren to not do something without explaining what exactly they shouldn’t be doing it and what “it” is…but the antis would like for all of this too late and too little fumbling desperation to take place in a society that is devoid of comprehensive sex education in the classroom.
And I really wouldn’t give a flying shit if I didn’t live in a city where moving down from number one in sexually transmitted disease infections to number two was cause for celebration and if I haven’t taught young women who learned about pregnancy when they got pregnant and who learned about STI prevention from getting an STI (save your key strokes, trolls…all my students were not black or women of color and STI don’t discriminate the way you do).
Sex isn’t the enemy and having had a healthy sex life doesn’t automatically translate into an adult being able to answer questions accurately or provide the right information to ensure a teen makes empowered choices.
Catch the knee…I’m not saying parents don’t play a role. They do…unless they are lousy parents, but the not-all-parents-are-worth-an-ounce-of-shit angle would require another post and this bitch has to get ready for work.
Parents who are not lousy and who give a shit need to resist the easy out for sex education the same way they need to resist the easy out for talking about drugs the same way they need to resist the easy out for discussing dating violence the same way they need to resist the easy out for not talking about all the shit a teen will have to juggle as they journey into adulthood…resist telling them not to do something without explaining why and what the fuck you are telling them not to do.
And, for the love of all that’s logical, don’t wait so damn long too…
Sunday, December 13, 2009
This February a bitch will celebrate five years of blogging here at AngryBlackBitch.
I’ve written a lot about my family…my sister, brother and my father, rest his soul.
But I haven’t written much about my mother, because we are estranged.
I have not spoken to my mother in over seven years.
I’ll confess that part of why I have not written about my mother and our estrangement is because people don’t receive that information well. I don’t hide it in my life…I’m not ashamed or embarrassed…but I’ve learned from people’s reactions and advice that folks feel compelled to try to inspire a Hallmark reunion when someone tells them they are estranged from a parent.
And there will not be a Hallmark moment tearful reunion bursting with tenderhearted joy between my mother and this bitch.
And the choir asked… “Okay, bitch…fine…why the fuck are you bringing her up?”
And a bitch replied… “Because my mother resurfaced in my world last week…arriving in town and stirring up shit like only she can.”
Here’s the deal…my mother is a toxic person for me. She is manipulative, judgmental and verbally abusive. I’ve seen her treat others well, but with me things are different and always have been.
For the first seventeen years of my life I internalized that and blamed myself, thinking that there must be something in me that inspired her to lash out and generally not like me. When my older sister went to college and it became just the two of us in the house things escalated (my older autistic brother was in residential care and my father moved to Chicago after my parents divorced).
My sixteenth year of life was the single most challenging twelve months of hell that I can remember. I was at an emotional bottom and desperate for relief from being the target of the daily verbal target practice my mother indulged in…the kind of verbal abuse that is so very hard to explain, that a body somehow learns to endure but never truly release.
I developed the following technique…a routine that allowed me to fool my friends, teachers and classmates into thinking everything was okay. My mother would go off on me during the drive to school each morning, not stopping until I broke down and cried. I took early hour classes at high school, so there weren’t a lot of students entering the building when I arrived. I’d close the car door, wipe the tears from my face and quickly walk inside, going straight to the bathroom. Once inside, I turned the water on cold at the sink and thrust my hands under the rush of frigid water palms up…and I’d stay there, ice cold water flowing over my hands, until my heartbeat slowed and my breath no longer hitched in my chest. After a quick splash of water to the face I took five deep breaths, checked my reflection in the mirror and then gathered up my shit and went to class.
I’ve met folks I went to high school with who had no idea that my home life was absolute shit. It’s amazing how people see what we want them to see…how easy it is to put on a show day after day when everyday a part of yourself is dying inside.
My salvation came in the form of college…my acceptance to Simon’s Rock College literally changed my life. I applied, got letters of recommendation, took the required tests and mailed off my application without telling my mother. When I was accepted I told her I was leaving.
She told me I would fail.
I told her thank you.
I meant it…really meant that thank you…because proving her wrong had long been an amazing motivator.
So, I took my first step away from mama drama when I was seventeen…and another a year later when I transferred to Brandeis…and yet another three years after than when I moved to Texas to live with my sister.
But I didn’t sever ties completely…and my mother remained a toxic force in my life. She’d call or visit (she eventually moved to Texas too…and may the gods be damned for that one) and I’d be right back in that house with her, sixteen again and dying inside while working to maintain the appearance of a successful young woman with a supportive mother who made all that success possible.
That shit went on for years…it might have gone on forever, but I got sick when I was 29. After a year of trying other shit I had to have surgery for fibroids and I never even thought to tell my mother about the initial diagnosis or the upcoming surgery. I was focused on getting well and I knew that my mother was the last thing I needed around me. She eventually found out when my sister let it slip during an argument…and my mother decided to play maternal and come to the hospital for the big day.
True to form, she couldn’t stay in character long…she picked a fight with my sister soon after I came out of surgery and, after upsetting everyone present with the exception of this bitch (I was out of it, thanks to some exceptional meds), exited stage left.
I was in the hospital for three days.
She didn’t come back.
She called several days later after my release and asked to come visit. I held her off for another week because I didn’t want her in my house while I was taking powerful pain meds and unable to properly defend myself. When she did visit I couldn’t wait for her to leave…to just walk out the door and cease trying to pretend that she gave a flying shit just because society expected her to. And when she finally did leave…after dropping several rancid comments about random shit…I sat down and acknowledged that both of us were playing the same stupid game and that the only reason I kept engaging my mother was because society expected children to.
I was 30 years old when I broke with my mother…there wasn’t a huge scene or massive battle. I didn’t stage a moment of closure or set up a final conversation. I moved back home to St. Louis and just stopped engaging. She continued to talk to my older sister and harass her for information about me while defending herself as the innocent party in the whole mess…I finally sent her a letter explaining that I was done and that harassing my sister wasn’t going to change that. She sent a reply explaining that I was crazy, the years of manipulation and abuse never happened and that I should check myself into a mental hospital to get help.
That’s the last I heard from my mother…that’s right, I was mama drama free for years…until last week.
I got a call while at work – my mother was in town driving around my brother’s old neighborhood looking for his house. She had not been in contact with her son either for damn near seven years, choosing to sever ties with all her children even though my autistic brother was the one person she used to have a positive relationship with. Now, after years of silence, she was driving around looking for his house…he moved years ago but she didn’t have the new address. Now, after years of silence, the staff at my brother’s house was on my phone asking whether they could give my mother his address and phone number (my sister and I are co-guardians and things like that have to be approved by us).
My sister and I nixed the surprise drop in attempt…my brother’s the kind of autistic person who doesn’t always respond well to sudden changes or surprises.
We agreed to a dinner meet up between my brother and my mother…by all reports it went well.
Throughout the week I was on edge…out of sorts…but not as out of sorts as I often thought I would be when I allowed myself to wonder what my reaction would be if she suddenly showed up.
And it just hit me…just now, while writing all this shit down…that this vent isn’t the rant it would have been years ago…that I’m stronger now…that I’m further along on this road than I thought I was…that I am, rather than a mass of reactions and fear, truly at peace with my choice.
Whether my mother is here to stay or just visiting remains to be seen.
But my family…my brother and sister and this bitch…we’re going to be okay.
Our mama’s drama doesn’t have to become our drama.
Yeah, we’re going to be fine.
The vent ends.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A certain Maggie from Thunder Bay Ontario (what’s up, Canada?!? A bitch loves y'all like cold fried chicken at 3 o'clock in the morning!) sent this bitch a message asking how she can send me a holiday gift.
Thanks for thinking of me!
All I want for Chrismakwanzika is…
…for folks to get their volunteer on in their community and support organizations that are doing good.
Oh, don't get me wrong...I lust after a lot of gift-based things.
I want them...really want them...would jump up and down and then do a dance if I got them...but I don't need them.
Seriously though...if you are so inclined...
You can support the work I do with Planned Parenthood affiliates in Missouri - show some love here!
And I also work with SAGE, an organization that provides services and advocacy to LGBT elders, here in St. Louis.
Oh, and I volunteer at PROMO (Missouri’s statewide LGBT equality organization).
Oh, oh...and a bitch is a huge fan of Lydia’s House and the amazing work that they do with abused women and children.
If you are in the St. Louis area and have time, give the gift of volunteering to Planned Parenthood of the St. Louis Region...Food Outreach (they provide nutritional support to people with HIV/AIDS and cancer) and/or Stray Rescue of St. Louis (they saved the life of my dawg-niece Sweetie and have also rescued so many other fantabulous animal companions waiting for an adoptive home)!
All these fantabulous organizations could use money...and in-kind donations...and volunteers.
Give what you can if you can when you can.
This holiday season and throughout the year, I hope we call remember that the best gift of all is when we give our passion, time and energy.
The inspiration I get from the work all y’all do every day to make this world a better place is priceless...
...and a gift that keeps on giving.
With it, I am empowered to do the same in my community.
For that, I thank you from the roots of my fierce bitchitude infused Afro!
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Late into the night, a bitch tumbled into sleep with thoughts of truthiness spinning through my Afro…
…and I dreamed a little dream about Rupert Murdoch and his dream-based pet gargoyle, Sebastian.
Citizen Murdoch sat upon his gilded thrown watching his minions from on high through the massive multi-screen security system he has in his home-based area where he makes sure his minions aren’t trying to think for themselves.
He turned to his companion, a re-animated pet gargoyle named Sebastian.
“Son, it really bothers me that there are people out there who are saying traditional news vehicles are dying. Why are they trying to think and understand shit? Why aren’t they just tossing money at me and my advertisers when I tell them to?”
“Yes, Master! You are so right! You are, as always, so very wise! Sebastian adores you and your super-duper Citizen Kane on steroids, minus the wicked cool camera angles, ways!”
Murdoch smiled absently.
“I’m going to tell the people about themselves!”
“Oh, yes Master!” Sebastian responded as he has been trained to. “Yes!”
Murdoch turned to his computer and began to write…
“I am smarter than all of you. You must accept this. You must stop trying to resist me. You are not strong enough or wise enough to win!”
Sebastian licked his lips while clapping his hooves.
“I give you the information I think you should have the way I think you should have it. I give you conservative pundits and personalities all pre-programmed to maintain your fear and confusion so I can continue to dominate you – for this you should thank me.”
Murdoch paused, glanced at his security screens and then pushed a large red button. A laser beam popped up and swiftly zapped an intern trying to fact check an article, vaporizing the youth in a single shot.
With a satisfied grunt, Murdoch turned back to his computer.
“Journalism is what I say journalism is. And I should be allowed to own as many information vehicles in as many markets and mediums as I want…for the sake of freedom!”
He paused…considered...and then continued.
“I don’t mean that weak ass freedom your teachers taught you about in during those dangerous civics classes they used to teach in those evil public schools. No, I’m talking about my definition of freedom - that I, Rupert Murdoch, should be free to do whatever I want and own whatever I want where I want to the way I want to for ever and a day.”
Sebastian nodded and then settled down to watch his Master work.
“Government is the enemy…unless government is giving me the right to own a lot of shit without any oversight. When this nation's founders got their founding on, they built on the solid foundation of a free and informed citizenry that can be manipulated by those of us who have the power to select what information they get and suppress the information we don’t think they should see. Our founders understood that an informed citizenry requires news that is independent from government...with the exception of those times when I allow conservatives to rant... but under the thumb of one true Master – me, ‘cause I’m gonna own everything eventually.”
“Oh master, you are so wise…so very, very wise!” Sebastian injected.
“The basic truth remains: To make informed decisions, free men and women require News Corps and our pundits to provide speculation dressed up to look like news about events affecting their countries and their lives. Whether the newspaper of the future is delivered with electrons or dead trees is ultimately not that important because the most important thing is that I control more and more of the industry until I ultimately control everything plus your hearts and minds!”
Sebastian, excited and ever supportive, jumped up and down.
“Master, where will you send this masterful work of brilliant truthiness so that the masses to read it and learn from it?!?”
Murdoch saved his document and then hit send.
“Why, the Wall Street Journal of course. They’ll print it, son...they have to seeing as I own their ass.”
Sebastian replied, confused… “But why not send it to all of your many outlets and then do a podcast and
then….ouch…oh, the pain!!” He cried out as Murdoch struck him down with one swipe of his hand.
“You fool! What did I tell you about thinking?”
“Oh Master! Oh, me is so sorry! I should never think…never ever think. Sebastian so sorry!!” the gargoyle sobbed.
Murdoch sighed and then reached out and stroked a hand over Sebastian’s knotted brow.
“That’s better. Son, sometimes I wonder what the people would ever do without me around to lead them?”
Eager to please, Sebastian responded… “They’d suffer through the horrors of a truly free and legitimately independent press delivering accurate news and valuable information , Master!”
"Good boy!” Murdoch said and tossed Sebastian a fresh bone.
And that's when a bitch woke up.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Senator Nelson's Amendment of Pure Rancidity has been defeated...way to get your activism on, y'all!
Find out how your Senator voted here.
Shark-Fu, the Supreme Pontifical Ruler and Head Bitch in Charge of the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter Day Drunks, urges Senators to reject Senator Nelson’s amendment to make women’s access to reproductive health care worse than it currently is.
Sadly, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops is under the delusion that they are acting in a scene from the movie Elizabeth and living hundreds of years ago when public policy was held captive to the religious views of bishops and the Catholic Church. Further restrictions on access to reproductive health care are just that – restrictions that do not currently exist. Senator Nelson’s amendment singles out one area of health care (abortion services) and seeks to change what is and make women worse off after reform.
The fact that the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops is neck deep in this amendment points to the motivation behind it – the Nelson amendment will write religious doctrine into federal legislation, Catholic Bishops are not medical professionals and any interpretation or opinion they offer on health care legislation or amendments to health care legislation is a religious opinion, not a medically accurate or legal or valid objection to the pre-amendment funding structure. Therefore, support of the Nelson amendment equals support for writing religious doctrine into federal legislation in general and for writing Catholic doctrine into federal legislation specifically.
Since the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has managed to open the door to the introduction of religious doctrine into federal legislation, the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter Day Drunks demands our seat at the table!
We, the UCoB&LDD, remind the Senate that abortion is health care.
We remind the Senate that women vote and we are making a list and will be checking it twice come election time.
We reject the dangerous precedent of allowing the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops to write amendments or influence amendments to federal legislation or regulate health care.
And we set forth this specific warning to the masses – y’all may not give a flying shit about the Nelson/Stupak amendment but you’re kidding yourselves if you think those Bishops will stop at abortion services should they find success in writing their ideology into federal legislation. At this rate, we the people will be waking up to whole new pontifical world this time next year.
To the bitchitude faithful (wink), Take Action Now!
Because these fools need to know we're not taking one step back, yall.
Not one step back!
Monday, December 07, 2009
A bitch just stumbled on this article about a study that found parents are waiting too damn long before having the “sex talk” with their chil’ren. As someone who volunteers a lot with teens and young adults, I could have told you that shit. Far too many youth are getting their information from books, television, movies and their friends…and the STI and unplanned pregnancy rates in St. Louis city are just one example of the outcome of sexuality illiteracy.
But something about that headline didn’t sit well even though on the surface it seems accurate…something just isn’t right there…um, oh wait – yes!
Is the issue that parent’s are waiting too long to have some coming of age super heavy “Mitzi, you are a woman now…” conversation with their chil’ren…or is the problem that our society is so hung up when it comes to sex that parents spend early childhood censoring everything from cartoons to music due to sexual content and then read in some book that some specific age would be a good time to start discussing sex so then they spring a sex talk on their chil’ren that is awkward as hell and gets them nowhere in a hurry only because they (the parents) over sterilized like modern day Puritans in the first place?
A bitch is not a fan of censoring the world for chil’ren. In my opinion, parents should be there to explain shit to their kids and to put shit into context…not cleanse all references to sex from all things as if sex is a naughty bad thing that adults do because we can’t help ourselves and our flesh is weak and blah, blah and blah.
People need to focus more on sexual literacy, maintaining sexual literacy and having a healthy positive attitude toward sex throughout their lives. That means that discussing our bodies and ourselves has to happen throughout our lives and not just when young women get their period or chil’ren start getting hair down there.
The study referenced in the article fund that chil’ren want to discuss sex with their parents…and that’s a good thing.
It also found that parents don’t want to discuss sex with their chil’ren…and that’s a problem that impacts all of us.
So, here I am…a woman who has met way too many young people who found out about sex by having sex and found out about sexually transmitted diseases by contracting one and found out about pregnancy by becoming pregnant and found out about exploitation when they were exploited…begging parents to get their parenting on, use the resources available through many a website and organization and talk to their kids about sex.
For information and so forth visit the Sexuality information and Education Council of the United States. and/or Real Life Real Talk.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Pause...sip ice water...continue.
Shall we proceed?
Oh yes, indeed!
This bitch is confused.
And the chorus asks… “Oh no! What has confused the bitch?”
And a bitch replies… “I don’t understand how Tiger Woods was able to get his fuck on outside of his marriage.”
Well, shit…don’t those Woodses live in Florida?
Isn’t man-on-woman marriage "protected" there?
How on earth did these multiple transgressions slip through the shield of sanctificity that surrounds all marriages performed in man-on-woman marriage protected states like Florida?
Does that shit wear off like sun block?
Or is there some fine print to the sanctified man-on-woman marriage contract that says that the shield is only good while both parties reside in a state that has protected sanctified marriage by law or constitutional amendment or both?
If that’s the case, someone needs to contact the Attorney General ‘cause that shit isn’t being disclosed clearly! I’m sure Tiger would have never left Florida if he knew crossing the state line would leave him and his vulnerable to temptation and Vegas cocktail waitresses with smart phone technology.
Were the Woodses hoodwinked…bamboozled even…by the false sense of protection granted man-on-woman married folks in Florida through a marriage protection law that ain’t worth the paper ‘twas written on?
Mayhap Elin can sue Florida or Tiger can claim that his transgressions aren’t really his failures but rather are the result of a fucked up law?
Full disclosure – a bitch is not married and my ass ain’t looking to get married. Marriage ain’t my kind of thang. But I believe others should be able to marry if it is their thang and I damn sure don’t think anyone’s right to marry should be held up to public approval or prevented because the public likes to get religious when it wants to (see marriage) and prefers to dine on bullshit the rest of the time (see divorce).
When news broke that a certain El Tigre the Transgressor…um, transgressed while married (translation – he broke with the covenant of man-on-woman legally recognized and thus eligible for benefits and tax deductions plus deemed socially acceptability as a foundation-based societal institution required, much like glue, to keep society together and thus allow the nation to flourish and for nourishing rains to fall like gentle showers upon the earth to continue the holy food chain that is the rhythm of life (cue Disney music) all of which can only be maintained through sanctified and approved by an overwhelming majority of choosy moms one man and one woman “marriage”)…cough…when I heard about that shit this bitch’s first reaction was amusement.
There are public relations fuck ups and then there’s crashing your Caddy into multiple stationary objects then having the windows busted out by a golf club wielded by your wife at around 2 o’clock in the morning only to be followed swiftly by intense gossip alleging that your wife’s exceptional golf swing was fueled by rage inspired by more than one infidelity alleged in the same intense gossip-based media frenzified spin.
Yeah, that's just priceless.
I, like many others, was distracted by the steady trickle of information…and pictures…and text messages…and voicemails…and then that non-denial denial statement chastising the gossip-mongers…and finally the not-exactly Jimmy Swaggart-esque sorta-confession by Woods that he did indeed transgressed.
But then the New York state marriage equality vote came down against equality and…after the first wave of disgusted disappointment passed…well, it made this bitch wonder about marriage and protection.
So, I got my Google on and confirmed that The Family Woods lives in Florida…and Florida is a state where man-on-woman sanctified until one or both parties get tired of that shit and filed for divorce “marriage” is legally protected from the threat of other people’s same-sex unions.
Pause...allow to marinate...continue.
Apparently that protection does not extend to Vegas trysts or the occasional anonymous shag while on a bitness trip.
That’s why this bitch is confused.
Many a pundit has questioned whether the Woods marriage will survive his transgressions.
But few pundits are questioning why there aren’t protections to protect the Woods marriage from the very transgressions they aren’t sure it can survive…like Vegas trysts, multi-year affairs and the occasional shag while on a bitness trip.
These same pundits have failed and continue to fail to question the legitimacy of denying same-sex couples marriage rights on the basis of protecting man-on-woman marriage…even though there’s no evidence that same-sex marriage threatens man-on-woman marriage unless one or both parties involved in a man-on-woman marriage figure out that they really should be involved in a same-sex marriage.
At the very least a bitch would expect a few Catholic or Mormon bishops to take this opportunity to blast infidelity and denounce the media for even mentioning the possibility of divorce and then call for legislation to address the freakish popularity of infidelity and the tendency for infidelity…and trysts in Vegas, multi-year affairs and the occasional anonymous shag while on a bitness trip…to lead to divorce.
Where the fuck is Rick Warren's take on this story?
Doesn’t Mr. Warren have anything to add…some statement to offer attempting to use the Great Golfer Transgression of 2009 as evidence for why he and his brunch buddies think gays are at the root of all evil and sanctioning state murder for gays is a good thing that would probably have kept Tiger Woods from getting his heterosexual as a hell transgression on and on and on and on again?
But all I’ve heard thus far are those crickets and a lot of people speculating about the future of a marriage that the state of Florida protected against the one thing it wasn’t threatened by.
Friday, December 04, 2009
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Police are still investigating the attack, but there are things we can do right now.
None of the victims have health insurance and LGBT community organizations are asking everyone to gather this Friday to support a fundraiser to go toward medical bills associated with the attack.
Send donations to -
Stop H8 Fund
c/o Pulaski Bank
Or get wire transfer information online at www.pulaskibankstl.com
Fundraising and Solidarity Events December 4, 2009
Candelight Vigil at 7:00 p.m. at the Corner of Manchester and Boyle (Ernies 32). The march will head down Manchester through the heart of the Grove and end at 7:30 p.m. with a Rally at Manchester and Vendeventer. Participants are encouraged to bring candles for the march, and requested to wear red hats, scarves, gloves or other clothing to show solidarity "for those victimized in our community."
NOH8 Project Fundraiser @ Nancy's Place
A free concert by legendary jazz/blues artist Kim Massie. Organizers are asking for your donations to help Jacob, Mitch, and Omer. There is no cover and no cost for the show – please stop by (4510 Manchester Ave) and give whatever you can. Event starts at 7 pm and the show starts at 8 pm.
Glitterbomb Benefit Show and Dance @ Complex
Doors open at 10 pm and show starts at 11 pm
A benefit show for Jacob, Mitch, and Omer featuring Siren, Dieta Pepsi, Suzy Cydal, Paris Beckham, Jennifer Jay Leighton, Princess V, Mikayla Hilton and more. Dance after the show til close with Charlie Buttons in the main room, and Landyn Cade playing in Visions (the back bar). All money raised in tips during the show, as well as a portion of the door charge, will be donated.
For more information visit the Vital Voice website.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
…’til you meet again in the ever after - free from hate, free from pain and free from ig’nance.
A bitch woke up to another World AIDS Day.
A World AIDS Day that will include the obligatory network news segment, some talk radio rants, vigils and remembrances.
Our government will declare that it shall send more money to this nation and fund that program.
Activists will talk about gains and the work that remains undone…the hurdles and road blocks that need to come down…the populations that remain vulnerable.
And this bitch is left remembering…
The first time I heard that gay men were dying from a mysterious cancer.
The first time I saw televised pictures of the sick, so frail and weak, surrounded by medical technology and staff unable to save them.
The fear over if and how it spread from person to person…the protests against children with AIDS attending public school…the religious leaders that claimed AIDS was God’s punishment…and a silence.
A silence that grew louder as the number of deaths grew…babies, children and straight married women and bi-sexuals…and people of all backgrounds…the rich and the poor…louder and louder…thousands and then millions…silence upon silence.
As activists got up in the face of government to demand an end to the silence…to demand funding and research…meds and treatments…education and outreach.
As so many turned away…even as so many others turned around and took up the cause.
And now wondering…
About a people who can get more worked up over a financial bail-out than they can over what another World AIDS Day means.
About a people who can shake with anger at town hall meetings over government involvement in health care reform…but are unmoved by the toll taken by eight years of religiousity in HIV/AIDS government funding and unstirred by the slow pace of unraveling the tentacles of that religiousity from the present administration's policies.
How a self-declared pro-life movement can offer nothing on this issue of HIV/AIDS…can continue to claim to value life even as they promote an anti-knowledge and anti-prevention agenda in vulnerable communities that has resulted in the death of thousands and will continue to have infection and death as it’s largest outcome for years to come.
Although the war on HIV/AIDS and for better treatment, increased resources and more options for people living with HIV/AIDS remains one of the few wars this nation is reluctant to fight…
…it is winnable.
And hoping that one day the masses will pause on World AIDS Day to celebrate the end of HIV/AIDS and remember those lost but never forgotten.
Oh, if only the masses could get angry about this shit…
…if only anger fueled action on this shit…
A bitch woke up to another World AIDS Day.
Another day with AIDS in the world.
Another day to lead by example and get our action on...
Monday, November 30, 2009
I sure as hell did. Mmmhmm, I ate myself sick and got some much needed sleep too.
Happy, happy, happy and joy times three!
Let’s jump right on in, shall we?
A bitch took a vacation from the internets during the holiday break, but C-Money was online and filled me in on all what-what surrounding a certain Tiger Woods and his recent vehicular malfunction.
My first response to the crash heard ‘round the internets was shock.
Tiger Woods crashed an Escalade?
What the hell happened to his Buick?
I was sure Mr. Woods was fixin' to be in a world of shit over driving and then crashing a non-Buick car but then I remembered that Buick kicked Woods to the curb a while back.
Still, nine years spent pitching Buicks and Tiger can’t even manage to involve that brand in his vehicular malfunction scandal based 2ish in the morning public display of as yet to be determined origin?
That’s cold, el Tigre.
That’s real cold.
The party crashers…
When I heard that two fools crashed the recent state dinner at the White House I had several reactions.
#1 – My soul sistah reaction in solidarity with the event people at the White House
Oh, no they didn’t! Fuck these fucked up people for fucking up the Obama Administration’s first state dinner.
And damn them to hell while you’re at it.
The White House event staff worked their asses off of this dinner which, by all accounts was fantabulous and now all anyone can talk about is some Ann Coulter look-a-like (and who in their right mind steals that look…wince) and her unable to be ‘shamed husband.
Anyone who has ever worked on a largish event should understand…these party crashers are a special kind of evil and should be reviled as such.
#2 – Ooooh, someone is gonna get fired for this shit.
This kind of security fuck up requires more than one resignation and a high profile firing. But since the fuck up points out weaknesses in White House security…and those holes had best be plugged fast as a motherfucker…and no one got hurt in the revealing of those holes…well, a bitch is strangely grateful this tacky assed couple took their ig’nant show out on the town.
#3 – Did I just pay for that?
Um, wait a minute.
Since a bitch is a tax payer…and these party crashing fools crashed a state dinner…did I just pay for this ig’nant couple to get their eat on and then sell the tale for six figures?
Oh, hell no!
Fuck that shit…if these fools get paid a bitch wants my cut.
Mmmhmm, they need to divide those six figures up amongst the masses…and a bitch is adding a fee for taxing my Afro with the never-ending television loop of this home training fail.
And finally, #4 – ‘Tis a sign of the times…
The economy is in such dire straits that rich winery owning sorta-socialites have to make spectacles of themselves by crashing a state dinner in hopes of getting a television show documenting them…umm, making spectacles of themselves...so they can pay off debt and continue to be rich winery owners.
The Great Depression had bank robberies, gangsters and kidnappings with ransom demands…
…we’ve got Balloon Boy and an Ann Coulter look-a-like crashing state dinners with her husband, both of whom are trying to get theirs through reality television shows.
Something tells me this current shit isn't going to inspire great black & white movies.
The Pontiff’s c.d. drops today.
Yes, I’m serious.
The Pope is dropping a c.d. of pontifical mutterings and utterings…just in time for Christmas.
Taylor Swift better watch her back….
…’cause the Pontiff is fixin' to kick her ass.
A bitch gets this mental image of the Pope's release party, with him dripping bling and sipping Moet…
He signed with Geffen, for the love of all that’s strange as hell and freaky too!
Gawd, who needs fiction when this is our reality...
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Either I’m getting slower or my to-do lists are getting more complicated.
Anyhoo, so sorry for my absence!
I hope that y’all know how thankful I am for your readership and comments.
Yes, even the rancidly ig’nant comments…’cause they remind a bitch that rancidity and extreme ig’nance exist in the world, so bitchitude must exist to expose and defeat that shit (wink)!
But I am most thankful for the words of encouragement, the spirited debates and discussions and the passionate concern y’all have for this world and your community.
You inspire me…
…and this bitch is thankful as a motherfucker for that.
Eat, drink and then do it again!
Happy Thank-based Day of Massive Eating from the House of Bitchitude!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Last Friday a bitch had the rare pleasure of seeing my sister give a presentation at St. Louis University. I’m ridiculously proud of my sis for a lot of reasons…one being her ability to share knowledge and inspire others. After seeing her presentation on strategic planning, my respect for her skills has only grown.
C-Money’s talk included her showing the students Sir Ken Robinson’s talk at the TED Conference on the topic of creativity.
If you haven’t seen it give it a look here…’tis worth it, trust a bitch.
Robinson’s talk is about creativity and how traditional public schools stifle the hell out of it if not outright kill it.
Much has been made over the need to reform public school education in America. I’m a product of a public school education and I agree that a lot of shit needs to be fixed, the sooner the better. But I’m not for tossing the notion of public school out the window entirely…in a world where many do not get any schooling because education is seen as a privilege rather than a right, I know that one of America’s great achievements is that we have a public education system. And in this nation, where many would like to see education become yet another exclusive playground of the rich, the masses need to defend the structure and advocate for remodeling the hell out of it...this bitch is pretty damned sure that many of those pushing to tear the things down are also preparing to lobby against building a damn thing up to replace it.
***pause, sip a rather exception cup of coffee (two teaspoons REAL sugar with a splash of 2% yummified milk = joy), continue***
Having said all that, the current beast is anti-creativity…and, in many ways, that’s a reflection of American society. I’ve lived a lot of places (Boston, Great Barrington Mass., Missouri, Pennsylvania, Texas) and I’ve visited even more…most communities are against creative expression…thought…people…structures…shit, anything different.
And Robinson’s talk reminded a bitch that one of the major reasons communities, organizations and people resist getting their creative on is for fear of fucking shit up.
We are conditioned to stand in front of ourselves when the thing we need to do is get out of our own fucking way.
Now that may seem like the most obvious thing you have ever read…but most of us don’t confront that reality enough.
We just don’t.
We look at beautiful, passionate and wild pieces of art…creations that stir our blood and damn near move us to tears…and appreciate them, yet we scoff at the idea that we (me, myself…I) have something like that struggling for freedom within ourselves.
So, while the blessed few among us who are able to defeat our fear and experience creativity go about the bitness of making and eating sumptuous cakes, the rest of us eat crackers…all because we afraid to risk fucking a few cakes up before we get that shit right.
Because society punishes the creative among us when they do fuck up…because deep down in the core of too many of us is a resentment toward those pretty ass cake making motherfuckers.
It took me years to see that shit for what it really is…the conditioning to conform that is drilled into all of us for so long that we’ve incorporated it into our flesh.
That fear is us (me, myself…I) standing in the way of our own ass getting our creativity on.
Because we don’t want anyone to laugh at us…to mock our fashion sense…to spit out a cake we’ve worked so hard on…to hate on us…to piss in our Corn Flakes…to kill our joy.
For fear of all that…we don’t dance, we buy clothes that everyone else is buying and eat crackers when we’re dying for some tres leches yummified cake.
We cast a safe vote on health care reform instead of the right vote...we don’t even eat Corn Flakes anymore and haven’t experienced joy in so long that we wouldn’t even miss it but for those damn creative folks out there flaunting their happiness all the motherfucking time.
Can a bitch get an amen?
I don’t know about y’all but this bitch needed to be reminded of that…big time.
Many thanks to my sister C-Money for that reminder and so much more…and congrats to her for a kick ass talk that I know touched more than one person in attendance.
Get your creativity on, y’all…get wild with it, go ahead and fuck shit up and learn from that...get out of the way of your own damn self.
Now I'm craving tres leches cake...