Lost Without Facebook

I'm lost without Facebook.

It's been three days and I keep reaching for my phone, wanting to post the interesting things I felt compelled to share.

Like the Korean pills made out of dead Chinese babies.

Like my frustration with the people at my job.

Like my son being threatened by a bully at school.

Like my school ranking in the top percentile out of 4,800 schools in the nation ranked (a total of 22,000 schools were analyzed) by US News.

Like my mom exclaiming her love for her early Mother's Day present in teenage text speak: "OMG!"

Like President Obama giving in to the pressure to speak on something that was a big mine field containing a boatload of "damn if you do, damn if you don't", leaving him open to even more criticism as well as paving the way for his not-to-be-under-estimated opponent.  (Maybe if Biden would shut up, Prez Obama wouldn't have to stepping in fresh steaming dog piles). North Carolina holding an unconstitutional vote didn't help. Regardless of personal belief, denying someone legal rights on the basis of what they are is just wrong. As a fat black single-mother and teacher, I know a thing or two about being glared at or disregarded on one or a combination of the "what I ams".

Joshua Ledet: Sultry

Joshua Ledet: Smooth

Joshua Ledet: Soulful

Like my discovery of the awe-some-ness that is American Idol's Joshua Ledet (haven't watched AI all season until tonight-- can't wait to hyperlink This is a Man's World when someone uploads it to YouTube). I would totally pay to see him in concert (and not that American Idol thing either). I'm trying to resist making a blog post just about dude. He is soooo good. He just doesn't fit in with the crud that is playing on constant rotation on the radio. His Change Gon' Come and Ready for Love almost got a shout out of me. Definitely makes me smile. He is Mantasia. He is Beyonce. He is Luther and a touch of so many of the greats. I hope he gets some really good writers and producers because I would definitely buy his cd. Yes, I've gone overboard with the pictures of him. And, no, I don't have a ridiculous school girl crush on him (from what I've discerned that would be totally stupid and a waste of energy). I just think he's really awesome and I hope he stays humble. Also, I didn't see too many interesting and lively pictures of him so I snapshotted a few to add to the world wide web. :)

This clip of Jessica Sanchez was pretty great too.

Like the Miami Heat sweeping the New York Knicks in round one of the playoffs.

Like my 90-day tithing commitment to God. "Test me in this...," He says. It feels more like a test for me rather than a test for Him. And, boy, I certainly hope I pass because, so far, the only floodgates that have been thrown open are the ones that have been holding back my tears.

Nearly everyday this week, the tears fell from my eyes in fat droplets as relentless as the rainfall that doused Miami these past few days.

"Test me in this," He says. I need to.

How else am I going to make it through another 87 days of no status updates? How else will I be able to pay all my bills while devoting the first 10% of my income to God? How else am I going to move from my current situation into something more aligned with my purpose?

"Test me in this," He says. I will.

I'm fighting to be obedient. I'm waiting on those blessings. I will test Him. I will trust Him. I will believe him for His word. 

QoMV

Found the video for Joshua Ledet's cover of It's a Man's World:

Mental (Un)Rest

I wanted to find something else to talk about this weekend other than Trayvon Martin but, until today, the case consumed me-- the injustice, the ramifications, the likelihood that any of my children could be just as affected, the realization that I, as a Black mother, have to have a talk with my sons about what it means to be Black males in this society and that I, as a Black woman, wasn't aware that there was a difference between the two genders.

Unlike the President, I do have a son, two of them. My oldest son could be Trayvon; in fact, with a quick glance, he is. So I'm terrified scared shitless of what the future holds for my children until they cross the line of 25 years old, the year, it seems, when maturity catches up to physicality. My heart is arrested with the possibilities and the uncertainty. There is so much hatred in this world, as well as fear. And, sometimes, justifiably so because, sometimes, especially in certain neighborhoods/cities, the bogeyman is Black.

But I have to wonder if the knowledge of knowing you are guilty by pigmentation does not assist in creating the problem. It hurts to be judge by the content of my skin rather than the content of my character. But, with the news and the stories from Black men detailing similar situations in which they were unfairly regarded as something to fear, I'm realizing Black men have it far worse. It's hard not to have a chip on your shoulder, to not fulfill the prophecy because everyone already thinks they know how the story goes, so why not give it to them. And I'm going to have to somehow let my children know the rule of this game called Life without making them feel less than because of the circumstances of their birth.

How do you do that? How do you tell them to behave less than without making them feel less than? How do you tell them that their difference is dangerous and detrimental to their well-being because of some perceived notion that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with the scary nigger stories told around white/other campfires or the lies laid out in white/other living rooms? Not all, mind you, but enough of them, enough to make cases like the Trayvon Martin tragedy reverberate through Black households all across the nation, inspiring men to reveal the silent degradation they had to endure, inspiring mothers to reveal their fears for their children.

I wanted to talk about something else, to not allow my fear to take hold of my mind, to live as if that day never happened. But it did and I can't talk about much else-- not the GOP's War on Women, not the Miami Heat winning over Orlando or getting slaughtered by Oklahoma City, not even the fact that I'm not sure that I want to continue blogging under this page now that my students have stalked me and now read up on my thoughts (that'll be another post, maybe. I hate the thought of having to censor myself).

The Miami Heat showing support.

This case, well, not a case seeing as how dude has YET to be arrested and, apparently, his whereabouts are unknown (safe for him I suppose. No neighborhood watchman to be on the alert for). Anyway, this tragedy has given me a reason to not sleep at night. I am now a parent who worries about something I can't change:

My son could be Trayvon Martin.

Rest in Peace/Paradise, Trayvon. <3

QoMV