I'm not taupe, I'm Black

It all started a long time ago and innocently enough. And I have to admit, I played a big part in allowing it to happen, but things have changed recently and I have to stand up and make a change.

It started when I was a sophomore or junior in college and I had a conversation with my roommate, Reta. We were discussing Spike Lee's movie, SCHOOL DAZE, which was causing such conflict at the time - "jigaboos" and "wanna-bes" were the lines being drawn among the Black race. Reta and I discussed how slaves were designated as "house" or "field" Negroes based on whether they could pass the "paper bag" test. [If your complexion was lighter than a paper bag, you could work in the house - if not, to the fields you go.] So that was our conversation, when Reta (who is darker than a paper sack) said, "yeah, Kris, you would definitely be a "house Negro", you are the color of pasty wheat bread." Great...according to my friend, I'm not even the color of cooked bread, but yucky-still-to-be-baked dough. Years later, I related this story to my very good friend and co-worker Julie (who is White) and she responded, "But you are not 'pasty wheat bread', you are more of a 'taupe' color...and when you come back from your trips to the islands, you are really more of a 'caramel' color". And that's how it started.

In my closest group of friends at work, I am the only person of color. Let me say for the record, even before I started working where I work, I have maintained a position of distance when it comes to identifying with my racial heritage. Too many years of cringing whenever the news media shows an African American person doing something amazingly stupid have made me often deny my race by saying things like, "I'm not Black, I'm Indian" - which is not a false statement - my parental grandmother's grandmother was a full bloodied Creek Indian. [Ok, you can say that is a stretch, but it is still true!] Having been raised in a home where my parents didn't allow slang, and to this day, my mother gives me strange looks when I use words like "ain't" and "nigga", I shudder whenever I hear a person of color on TV slaughtering the English language. Why is it that I would take upon myself the weight of every Black person's public failures as if they were my own and then turn around and say, "well, that's them, not me, 'cause I'm not like them." So, when issues of race would arise at work, it was easy for me to say, "I'm not Black, I'm taupe." And it became a standing joke...a commentary...a "thing"...and I was fine with it.

Or so I thought.

I guess the uneasiness about the "taupe" joke has been simmering since February 2007 when Barack Obama threw his hat in the Presidential race. Pride in seeing a Black man run for the highest political office in the land made me want to declare my "Blackness" again. But, in February 2007, who really thought that he stood a chance? I have watched him over the last 18 months to see if he would be weeded out, cast aside, dismissed. But as I said in an earlier blog, he's a rock star and last night, I watched with pride as he stood before 84,000 people in Investco Field in Denver, CO as he accepted the Democratic nomination for President of the United States. It is significant that it was 45 years to the day that Martin Luther King, Jr. stood on the national lawn in Washington, DC and gave his I HAVE A DREAM speech.

Last weekend, I went to see an exhibit at the High Museum of Art entitled THE ROAD TO FREEDOM. This photographic essay on the Civil Rights Movement literally changed my life. I never knew or recognized, or maybe I just forgot, just what my ancestors went through during that era (and let's face it, the eras preceding). I never knew or realized, or maybe I just forgot, that less than 40 years ago, there were laws in place that said that no matter how much I might proclaim "I'm not Black, I'm taupe", if I'd tried to drink out of a certain water fountain, I could have been jailed...or if I tried to sit in a certain section of a bus, I could have been arrested...or if I dared to speak back, raise my voice, or just look the wrong way at the wrong person at the wrong time, I could have been killed...and no one would have been able to do anything to stop it...and most people would not have even tried. Because of the things I saw in this exhibit, the emotions I experienced, the tears that I shed...I can no longer cavalierly deny the sacrifices of those who went before me. I can no longer neglect my responsibility to reach back and help those who are coming behind me. Yes, there are problems within the Black community...I can either continue to complain about it and do nothing - or I can take a stand and try to stop the foolishness within the realm of my influence.

Earlier this week, I made my friend Julie cry. I didn't mean to, but I did. When I told her that I didn't want to be referred to as "the taupe girl" anymore, I didn't explain to her what I hope I have explained in this blog. As she reads this (and I know she will 'cause she reads EVERY blog I write and provides me with invaluable, loving, supportive feedback - good and bad), I want to publicly tell her what I've already told her in private. I am sorry I made her cry. I want her to know how much I love her. And she needs to know I know she never meant to hurt me or cause me any harm whenever she called me "taupe". She is the most genuine, loving person I know (next to my godsister). In the years that I have known her, she has made such an impact on my life that everyone in my family knows her. Whenever there has been a family crisis, Julie has been there. She prays with me and for me on a daily basis and her friendship is one of God's greatest blessings towards me. 40 years ago, we would not have even been allowed to be friends.

We are living in an amazing time of change for our country. I am not naive enough to believe that when Barack Obama is elected President in November everyone in this country will be happy. Julie and my core group of friends probably will not be happy. In order to maintain our friendships, we don't talk politics - but I know they are not Obama supporters. That is their right and I respect their choice, even if I don't agree with it. I believe they feel the same about my choice. I am not stupid enough to think that years of prejudice - Black v White; Republican v Democrat; straight v gay; rich v poor - will suddenly just disappear. It won't. But I do know this: I can change. I can make a difference. I can declare, loudly and proudly: I'm not taupe. I'm Black.

Have a happy, safe, wonderful holiday weekend.

Be blessed.

Thank you Bill and Hilary!

It is unbelievable to me that I have been staying up night after night to watch the Democratic National Convention. While I have my political views and opinions, I have never been one to go for all the "rah-rah" of the conventions and the long list of boring speakers and speeches...but this election is different in so many ways and I find myself, not only watching the convention, but TiVo-ing it just in case there is something I missed. As a Barack Obama supporter, I was especially interested to see and hear what the Clintons would do and say at this convention.

For the record, I LOVE the Clintons. If Barack was not in the race, I probably would have been a Hillary supporter - any thing to get Bill back in the White House. No matter what opinion you have of his personal foibles, he was a great President. I know that I was able to save more, purchase my house and clear up some credit card debt during his administration, and next to Jimmy Carter, he is my favorite President and one I proudly voted for...twice. Personal opinion here: Hillary and Bill thought they had the nomination wrapped up. They waited 8 long, hard, excruciating years under the Bush administration before making their move to run a campaign to get Hillary elected into the White House. And out of nowhere, here comes this young upstate senator from Illinois who upsets the apple cart. In their human-ness, they made some mis-steps...said some things they should not have...did some things that made some of their loyal supporters stop, step back and scratch their heads...well, at least I did. And while I understand it, I didn't appreciate it.

So, when I heard each of them would be speaking at the convention, I was very excited. I wanted to hear what they would have to say - and I NEEDED them to "redeem" themselves. If you are watching the convention, you know that there was a lot of tension between the Clinton delegates and the Obama delegates. Would the Clintons "split the party" or would they thrust their support behind Barack and his candidacy? I was very interested to see and hear for myself what they would do.

On Tuesday night, I waited with great anticipation to hear Hillary speak. I watched the montage narrated by Chelsea and sat through the applause as Hillary took the stage. Within the first five minutes of her speech, Hillary did what I personally NEEDED her to do. She declared, "Barack Obama is my candidate and he must be our next President." As I have said to several people since then - the rest of her speech was just gravy. I feel she HAD to be emphatic in her statement of support and she did that. On Wednesday night, I watched the roll call of the states and saw Hillary make the motion to "let's stop all this casting of votes and just nominate the man" and I feel she HAD to do that - it was the right move.

And Bill also did what I felt he HAD to do. Unlike Hillary, he made me wait for my piece of meat (which was when he compared Barack to himself: "16 years ago when this convention nominated me as the Democratic presidential candidate. At that time, lots of people talked about my youth and inexperience...sound familiar?") after making me swim through all the "gravy" first. Don't misinterpret what I'm saying, he made some good points throughout his speech - but I needed one of the Clintons to ... apologize, if that's the right word ... and although Bill didn't say the words, I felt it was implied and that was enough for me...personally, as a Obama supporter.

So, thank you to the Clintons. I am not naive enough to believe that the support of the Clintons didn't come without some strings and political favors...but in order to get Obama elected (which I think is VITAL to our country), it was necessary.

Just my opinion.

Be blessed.

I just LOVE her!

I have NEVER watched a Democratic (or Republican) convention speech - EVER! I have never wanted to sit and listen to all the speeches. I mean, of course, you hear the highlights, the sound bites, what the news media and pundits want you to know. But I watched tonight because, as much as I love Barack, I have been fascinated by Michelle Obama since they, as a couple, entered the political fray. I wanted to hear what she had to say and how she would introduce her husband to the American people. I LOVE hearing the stories of how a couple meets and how they maintain the relationship over (in this case) 15 years. I LOVE how she spoke so lovingly about her parents and their influence in her life. I LOVE how she talked about her brother and their relationship. I LOVE how she talked about how her father's legacy shadows her daughter's future. Point is: I just LOVE her!

And she is BEAUTIFUL! Inside and out. Her giving up a high profile career as an attorney to dedicate her life to public service; her love for her children and I ain't mad at her for saying (several times), "I love my husband"; "this is why I fell in love with him" - that's right, girl! Stake your claim, stand by your man. Let all the floozies who are plotting their moves know there will NOT be a repeat of the Clinton debacle. (and you know there are some skeezers out there that are just waiting to be the next Monica Lewinsky of history!)

I liked her classiness in her speech as she paid homage to Hilary Clinton, who did put "18 million cracks in that glass ceiling so that others could follow". In a convention that is still fraught with Clinton supporter who may or may not support Barack's presidential race, I thought that was a classy move.

I think if we could elect our First Lady, Michelle Obama would win hands down. I mean, I would be willing to bet less than 20% of the people reading this can even tell me what John McCain's wife's first name is. Michelle was beautiful, eloquent, elegant, inspiring, humble and everything this country needs as we move through the next four years.

Only God knows what will happen in November, but I know who I'm voting for on November 4, 2008, and I cannot wait to see Michelle Obama in the White House as this country's First Lady.

Just my opinion.

Be blessed.

PS: Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr. made a significant impression tonight, as did Senator Ted Kennedy. I will be watching again tomorrow night to see what Senator Hilary Clinton has to say.

If I could turn back time...

Almost six years after it left the airwaves, I became a fan of the TV show FELICITY (thanks NetFlix!). In this drama about college student angst, the main character, Felicity (played by Keri Russell) spends four years trying to make a choice between two men: Noel (played by Scott Foley) and Ben (played by Scott Speedman). At the end of four years and graduation, the producers/writers throw the viewers a curve and Felicity is given the opportunity to go back in time to a pivotal incident, make a different choice and see how it all pans out. (I have 4-5 more episodes to go, but it ain't looking so good.)

This weekend, an ex-boyfriend of mine was in town. For over 20 years, we've had a tumultous, back and forth, forth and back, type of relationship. We are still really good friends, but we have both moved on. He is now married and living in Jamaica. But he was in town because his father recently overcame a year long medical crucible and the family was gathering for a big celebration. [I'm telling you, his father is a medical miracle! One year ago, he weighed less than 75 pounds and the doctors were encouraging the family to consider hospice for him - and yet, on Sabbath, he stood before his church and gave his testimony about the goodness of the Lord - but I digress]

Anyway, as my mother and I visited with the family after church on Sabbath, the question came up about why he and I never got married - why our relationship never made it past the courtship stage. I mean, we never would have had any in-law issues - his parents love me and my mother thinks he is the most wonderful person ever; his brothers love me and have always considered me their "sister"; all the parents get along and enjoy spending time with each other. But there are reasons why we are not together. Good, valid, important reasons. Of course, he has his version of why we are not together and I have mine - isn't that always the case?] And while our lives have taken very different paths, it was interesting (FOR A MOMENT) to play the "what if" game. What if we had gotten married? What if some of the choices we made back in the late '80s/early 90's had been different? Would he still be in the church? Would I still be living in Atlanta? Would we have had children? LOTS of questions.

But the reality is this: unlike the TV show FELICITY, in real life, you don't get to go back and "re-do" your life. You don't get to see what would have happened "if". You pretty much have to suck it up. You have to live with/accept the choices that you made in life and as much as possible, be happy with those choices. This ex played a very important part in my life for YEARS (decades even) and as I said, we remain friends and he (and his family) will always be important to me and have a very special place in my heart and my life - but time marches on - and you have to accept the consequences of the choices you make.

It was good to see him.

It was good to see him go.

Be blessed.

Appearances can be deceiving...

"But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." 1 Samuel 16:7

This is a much rehashed theme, but this text is so much a part of my psyche today that I had to write about...AGAIN! In the text above, God commissioned Samuel to go to the house of Jesse to find the replacement king of Israel (because, frankly, Saul was messing up!). As Jesse brought his sons forth, one by one by one, Samuel would look at them and think, "Wow, he's tall - he must be the new king - he has a kingly stature"; or "And this one, look at that smile - he would be a good diplomat". Over and over again, Samuel would look on the outward appearance of Jesse's sons and deem them "appropriate" for the job. BUT God had a different plan and way of looking at Jesse's sons. He was looking at their hearts, their motives and motivations.

I wish I had the ability to look at people's true hearts and characters as I interacted with them...and sometimes, I wish people could do the same for me. To know that, generally, I want the best for people and mean no harm. A remark, given in love and kindness, shouldn't be the start of an argument or friction. But sometimes that is what happens. Because I am NOT God, I don't know what trials, tribulations, struggles a person may be hiding behind a smile or professional demeanor. I cannot tell by looking at someone if they had an argument with their spouse before leaving the house that morning - or if the baby threw up on them as they were walking out the door - or if they missed their morning devotion and gave the enemy a way in...I don't know all these things - just as, by looking at me, they don't know any of these things about me.

I think we sinful, selfish, soul-scarred, battle weary humans are sometimes overly sensitive to words said and the tones in which they are said - sensitive to body language - sensitive to everything. I had a situation this morning with a co-worker that just blew out of control because I believe both of us were coming from a position of defense instead of compromise. She didn't know what I'd already been through this morning - just as I didn't know what she was going through - and in anger, we both lashed out at each other. Luckily, eventually, calmer heads prevailed and I hope we both walked away with a better understanding of the situation and with our working relationship and personal friendship intact.

Smiling faces often cover a multitude of wounds. Just because someone appears to be standing strong doesn't mean that, in reality, they are barely standing at all. Let's all strive to be more compassionate with each other. One of the prayers I strive to pray every morning is: "Dear Lord, thank you for the forgiveness of my sins and for the gift of salvation at Calvary. Help me as I interact with my friends and co-workers today to remember that they also are Your Children and are forgiven sinners just as I am. Help me to be as patient with them as You are with me." That's my prayer. I ain't always successful - but I'm trying.

As the Sabbath hours approach (AMEN! HALLELUJAH!), I pray that you are blessed. I pray that you find some time to rest, relax, release...and I pray that as you interact with the saints at church, you will remember that the pretty dress, the beautiful suit, the smoking shoes may all just be a front - that person may just barely be making it through - pray for them and be patient.

Be blessed.

Home ownership ain't for sissies...

The saga of my roof repair (or not) continues. If you have been following this drama, you know that it was in March 2008 that my roof was apparently damaged by a hailstorm following the tornado that struck my fair city. It was in June that my mother and I started gathering information about roofing companies and in mid-July, after an extensive round of interviewing companies and meeting with roofing company representatives, we picked a company, hired them and waited for our roof to be repaired.
...and waited
...and waited
...and waited.

Finally, one day in August, the materials to do the work on the roof were delivered to my house. Excitement reigned in the house because we'd been told, "the materials will be delivered one day, roof put on the next day, cleanup the following day". Yeah right. Materials were delivered on a Wednesday...Thursday, no roofers...Friday, no roofers...Monday, no roofers...and no matter how many times I called the contractor and/or the roofing company directly, I could not get anyone to answer one simple question: "WHEN Y'ALL GONNA COME AND FIX MY ROOF?"

Finally, one Tuesday morning, the roofers showed up. My old roof was torn off - a new roof put on...well, most of it anyway. Apparently, you have to take BOTH skylights off before you realize that the size you bought was too small and that you need to order the right sized skylights. So, you cover the holes with flashing (some aluminum type stuff) and duct tape and say, "yeah, that should hold it until we get the right sized skylights up here." And then you drive away...and the wait begins again.

It has been almost two weeks since the roof was put on my house and still...no skylights. Again, calls to the contractor net no response. I am sure that when I left the message for the contractor that the only reason I wasn't being "angry Black woman" with him was because no money had yet changed hands, he either got scared at the thought of my metamorphosis into such a creature, or he laughed at my feeble attempt at keeping my cool. When he finally did call me back (TODAY!!!), he told me that he'd just found out that the skylights may take up to FIVE WEEKS to be delivered from the distributor! FIVE WEEKS! Are they crazy?! He did offer this disclaimer: your roof should be secure, but if it rains and there is any damage, our company would be liable and will reimburse you any damage...UH DUH!

So, the wait begins again. I truly appreciate all my friends, loved ones and just generally nosey people who continue to ask me "So, what's going on with your roof?" - Well, here's your answer. NOTHING!!! Pray for a sista, will ya? I am really striving not to go "angry Black woman", but there's only so much a woman can take.

Be blessed.

Membership has its privileges...

Remember when that catch phrase was synonymous with American Express? We all bought into the hype - wow! with this credit card, you are a "member" and there are certain privileges that only members of this club are afforded. It made you WANT to carry that credit card because that meant you had ARRIVED, you were a "member" of the club. [I know I sure felt that way the day I was approved for mine. I was an "adult"].

But now, you can be a "member" of almost anything: shopping clubs like Sam's, Costco or BJ's; book clubs; social networks; health clubs; even websites now have "memberships" where if you are a member, you are allowed access to more information than the general viewing public. I should know - I am in the process of designing some personal and family websites and setting up the permissions and privileges for "members" has been one of my biggest tasks. I mean, everybody can't see everything about you. Some things need to be shared with only the chosen few.

And then, there are the different levels of membership. You can be a regular member, or a gold member, or even a platinum member - depending on the different levels determined by the host entity. Of course, each level has different (and presumably better) benefits the higher you climb up the hierarchy. Of course, the cost associated with each level is exponentially higher. It is great to be platinum level with your frequent flyer membership - you get higher priorities on standby lists and sometimes, automatic upgrades to first class - but you have already paid for those benefits many times over every time you flew coach (and sat in the middle next to the screaming, hollering baby or were talked to incessantly all the way from NYC to LAX by the seat mate who just would not shut up! - sorry, flashback), or every time you got bumped from a standby list. Believe me, you've paid for that status or level of membership by the time you get it.

Another thing to remember: membership is always a choice. You don't have to accept an invitation to join when the offer is presented. I am a avid Facebook member and I get requests frequently to join various groups online based on my list of hobbies and interests. I join some, but not all...it is a choice. There have even been groups that I have joined impulsively only to realize "Hmm, maybe this group really isn't for me". [That is especially true with applications to add to my profile...I mean, do I really want my friends to send me online strippers?!]

There is one "club" where the rules above do not apply and that is membership in the family of Christ. There is no hierarchy at the foot of the Cross - it is a level playing field for all who come. It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, male or female, young or old, Black or White (or taupe - inside joke)...we are all the same: sinners saved by grace. The price was paid for all of us by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. All we have to do is accept His free gift of membership. And you even have a choice about that...the invitation is extended ("Behold, I stand at the door and knock"), but you don't have to accept it. What a loving God! Even knowing that our lives are better or would be better with Him in it than without Him in it, He still gives us a choice to accept or reject "membership" into the family. I don't know about you, but I am glad to be a member of His family. I mean, how else could I be the "favorite", right?

Be blessed.



PS: Information about my personal website coming soon. Website http://www.godsfavoritechild.com/ still under construction, but I hope to have it up and running soon. Pray for this effort. Thanks.