On the eve of the inauguration of President-Elect Trump, I find myself watching interviews of the Obamas and feeling like the first time I watched the Friends series finale. I feel like an era has ended, one I knew could not last but never thought of the day when it would. He was the first time the candidate I voted for won the presidency; so, he has truly felt like my president and not just the president.
Since his speech at the DNC while still a senator, I have believed in and supported him. When I read Audacity of Hope, I knew I wanted him to be my president. I like many others felt that maybe he ran too soon in 2008 but God knew better. I watched election night on needles and felt my heart swell when it was announced he won. I watched his inauguration and was overcome with emotions I didn't know I had.
The past eight years have not been perfect but I still feel they have been great. My family and my career grew over the past eight years, and although not every moment has been ideal I have never lost hope. No matter the circumstance, rhetoric, and craziness occurring throughout our nation, the Obamas always seemed hopeful. I think this hope spread to many of us.
It has been a joy to watch both President Obama and First Lady Obama. Their warmth and love for people radiated in everything they did. I never felt so connected to a president or first lady as I did the two of them.
Now, I'm sure it's not secret I didn't vote for Trump. I actually loathe the man. I'm not fearful of him or his presidency, but I do fear the future. We, THE PEOPLE, empower a president. The problem lately is I don't trust us as a people. At some point we became mean. We stopped trying to unify and began looking out for self or preserving our self interests. It's sad to watch and as a minority frightening to think of the possibilities.
Hitler was able to do the atrocities he did because the country was in a hurtful, divided place. When he took over and demonized the Jews, the rest of the German population turned a blind eye because they were too wrapped up in self to care or realize what was happening. Many of them were frustrated with things in their country and easily bought into the propaganda that the Jews were to blame. Is Trump Hitler, no. Are we Germany circa 1930, no. But when I hear how we have demonized Muslims and immigrants in this country and the "fake news" that permeates our media, it's all too close for comfort.
So, to my Trump supporters and for those that feel I need to get on board you have to give me a moment. It was hard for me to accept that I would only see Friends through reruns and my DVDs, that there will never be a new "the one where..." episode. It will take me a while to embrace this new president, but I will because I love this country. But please believe I will not turn a blind eye to anything and he will have to earn the sentiment of my president. I didn't vote for him and I don't trust him or the parade of characters he has presented as a part of his administration. On January 20th he will become the president and I will wait, hope, and pray that he earns the title my president.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
I May Have Been a Black Panther
I started this originally as a Facebook post but quickly realized I had a lot to say; so, now it's a blog post. Here goes....
I'm trying very hard not to boil over but I promise I'm simmering. With each new racial discussion that arises be it the #BlackLivesMatter or now the #Beyonce superbowl performance, I become more and more disheartened and discouraged. One thing I cannot tolerate, especially in this new found age of the internet where we have access to a wealth of information, is the perpetuation of ignorance and false information. Please stop looking at history through only one lens. Depending on your vantage point, things appear very differently. Remember,one man's terrorist is another man's savior.
So to be clear, I support and am grateful to the #BlackPantherParty and Malcom X just as much as I am to Martin Luther King, Jr., Ambassador Andrew Young, Congressman John Lewis and a host of others. If I endured the life of my grandmother, great grandmother, etc. and witnessed what they did I'm not certain whose footsteps I would've followed.
As I think about the myriad of injustices, the lynchings, the bombings and senseless cruelties and tragedies that spanned years I tremble and boil inside. As a mother of two now I think of how Rosa Parks must have felt while the KKK threw bombs into her home and burned crosses in her yard all while her children slept. My heart weeps and I ask myself if I would have been able to endure. I think I may have been a Black Panther and not the kind that actually existed but the ones America like to broad stroke paint. I think my fear for my husband and my kids would have driven me to pick up a gun and dare anyone to touch what I loved and cherished.
You see sometimes we get so caught up in being right and righteous that we forget we are human. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could watch men and women hang from a tree senselessly and watch families beg a justice system to help that refused to see them as equal. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could endure that peacefully. Why? Because my heart races and blood boils just reading about it.
Even today as I struggle with all the recent tragedies over the past years, I ask myself how do I fight this battle and how should I contribute to the narrative. No, I don't believe all cops are bad and no I don't believe all white people are either, but I also cannot ignore the systemic and historical issues that keep us divided. I can't ignore the chosen language used when it comes to my people either.
So, what do I want from White America? What I want from every one on earth...love, accountability, and respect. If I answer honestly I don't feel these things. If I answer honestly I feel like an abused and battered wife who you keep telling needs to move on because that beating is in the past and you still love me.
So when I say I may have been a Black Panther, understand that doesn't mean I want to be a terrorist, anti-American, or kill cops. It means I understand the hurt, the frustration, the fear, but most importantly the resolve to make a change for those who can't fight.
I'm trying very hard not to boil over but I promise I'm simmering. With each new racial discussion that arises be it the #BlackLivesMatter or now the #Beyonce superbowl performance, I become more and more disheartened and discouraged. One thing I cannot tolerate, especially in this new found age of the internet where we have access to a wealth of information, is the perpetuation of ignorance and false information. Please stop looking at history through only one lens. Depending on your vantage point, things appear very differently. Remember,one man's terrorist is another man's savior.
So to be clear, I support and am grateful to the #BlackPantherParty and Malcom X just as much as I am to Martin Luther King, Jr., Ambassador Andrew Young, Congressman John Lewis and a host of others. If I endured the life of my grandmother, great grandmother, etc. and witnessed what they did I'm not certain whose footsteps I would've followed.
As I think about the myriad of injustices, the lynchings, the bombings and senseless cruelties and tragedies that spanned years I tremble and boil inside. As a mother of two now I think of how Rosa Parks must have felt while the KKK threw bombs into her home and burned crosses in her yard all while her children slept. My heart weeps and I ask myself if I would have been able to endure. I think I may have been a Black Panther and not the kind that actually existed but the ones America like to broad stroke paint. I think my fear for my husband and my kids would have driven me to pick up a gun and dare anyone to touch what I loved and cherished.
You see sometimes we get so caught up in being right and righteous that we forget we are human. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could watch men and women hang from a tree senselessly and watch families beg a justice system to help that refused to see them as equal. I'm not righteous enough to say that I could endure that peacefully. Why? Because my heart races and blood boils just reading about it.
Even today as I struggle with all the recent tragedies over the past years, I ask myself how do I fight this battle and how should I contribute to the narrative. No, I don't believe all cops are bad and no I don't believe all white people are either, but I also cannot ignore the systemic and historical issues that keep us divided. I can't ignore the chosen language used when it comes to my people either.
So, what do I want from White America? What I want from every one on earth...love, accountability, and respect. If I answer honestly I don't feel these things. If I answer honestly I feel like an abused and battered wife who you keep telling needs to move on because that beating is in the past and you still love me.
So when I say I may have been a Black Panther, understand that doesn't mean I want to be a terrorist, anti-American, or kill cops. It means I understand the hurt, the frustration, the fear, but most importantly the resolve to make a change for those who can't fight.
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