A Reflection on Power, Resistance and a Day at the Park

I decided to eat my lunch at a local park yesterday, and upon pulling in, I saw about five or six police cars parked there. Naturally, I was concerned about what might be going on, but I went on, found a shady spot to park in, and began listening to my new favorite podcast, Truth's Table.

The particular episode I was listening to, “Historical and Contemporary Resistance,” was the third in a three-part series on what resistance looks like. In this installment, the hosts—Michelle Higgins, Christina Edmondson and Ekemini Uwan—were discussing present-day examples. It just so happened that, as I was driving out of the park, Michelle was discussing the good folks doing resistance work in Ferguson, Missouri. She lives in St. Louis and has been active in the work in that area.

Image credit: Leo Romero

At this particular moment in my drive out of the park, Michelle was talking about some of the dehumanizing tactics that police officers in Ferguson have used against her and fellow activists. In the same moment, I was passing by the line of police cars and looked over to see a multi-racial group of officers hanging out with a group of black kids and adults, who I assume were leaders or mentors of a youth program of some sort. From my brief observations while I cruised past, I saw nothing to be concerned about. In fact, I saw smiles, laughter and positive engagement. I saw police officers, sworn to serve and protect, being part of their community and (I hope) establishing good relationships with the young people they serve.

The juxtaposition between what I was hearing and what I was seeing was so stark, and it made me long to witness more of the latter. I long for the day when this is par for the course: that those in positions of power and authority a) treat those in their charge with the dignity of fellow human beings and b) see themselves as servants first. I long for more genuine smiles shared between those in power and those they serve, whether that power lies in a badge, a political office, an executive position or a teacher’s desk.

Until then, as the Truth’s Table crew asserted, resistance is necessary—whether that’s through becoming public servants ourselves, raising our children to love themselves and their communities, regularly engaging in self-care in a society that encourages working ourselves to the breaking point, or choosing to acknowledge others’ suffering when it does not affect us personally.

I do know that the scene I witnessed yesterday gave me hope, hope that humanity and service will be lasting takeaways for the officers, children and adults who spent some time together at the park.

This Negro Speaks of Rivers

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
     flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
–from Langston Hughes' “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”

I often spend my lunch breaks down by the Alabama River in Montgomery. I love sitting there: reading, thinking, just being. It's a place where all my identities seems to come together and meet, where my past, present and future seem to converge.

Like the time I saw a beautiful black family—a grandfather, his grandson (about 7-ish) and his granddaughter (about 3-ish), fresh off a boat ride and enjoying lunch and each other. I smiled as I watched them, catching bits and pieces of their conversation, the youngest of the crew a bit skittish about an insect flying nearby. It made me think of fishing trips with my father and siblings so many years ago.

And there are the times I have sat by this river and read books that plucked my brain and my heart, like Jewell Parker Rhodes’ Bayou Magic. In this tale, a young girl from New Orleans spends the summer with her mysterious grandmother, who teaches the child about her family’s special connection with the healing powers of water. From the time one of their foremothers was stolen from Africa to the time Big Oil threatens to ruin their entire existence on the bayou, water speaks to this family and the communities around them.

And there’s the time I reclined by the river and began reading historian Eric Foner’s Gateway to Freedom: The Hidden History of the Underground Railroad. Early in the book, I read about clever and courageous enslaved folks who attempted to escape bondage via various rivers during American slavery. Some successful, some...not successful.

I think about this particular river, the Alabama, where who-knows-how-many folks—who looked like me, could have been related to me—disembarked from vessels and walked right up this riverbank to a pen or jail on what is now Commerce Street or Dexter Avenue. At some point, they were led to One Court Square—now marked by a beautiful, decorative fountain—where they were auctioned off, maybe separated from family they’d never see again.

I think about lunch by this river with one of my dearest friends. Recently, this friend and I gathered in this old city, just down the road from the river, with two more of our dear crew. We cheered with and for each other, laughed and danced together, loved on and affirmed one another. It was all kinds of black girl magic. It was beautiful. It was love.

Perhaps I thought about all this today as the weather turns noticeably cooler and, maybe in a month or two, I likely won’t be lunching by the river for a while. But I’ll be back.

I came across this video of Langston Hughes reading "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" after explaining the inspiration behind it. Check it out.

video courtesy of Poetry Reading Live on YouTube

No Love Without Justice—and Vice Versa

Art by cselenka: http://cselenka.deviantart.com

I have not said much, digitally, about the killings of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile or the police officers in Dallas last week. Other than face-to-face conversations in my personal and professional circles, I have sat with numbness, deep sadness and rage, and I have practiced a great deal of avoidance. (I haven’t watched videos or press conferences or read the fine details of the shootings.)

Up to this point and for the most part, I’ve chosen to not contribute to the morass of online musings about these events. What could I say that hasn’t already been said?

But I felt moved, as a believer in Christ (read: a believer in love), to say this: Evil and injustice are as old as time. We humans continue to find ways to hurt each other and to foster discord rather than peace and harmony. And it would be easy to think this is all we are. Prejudice. Bias. Hate. Fear-mongering. Division. Partisanship. Memes. Snarky tweets. And many of our social and political institutions concoct and perpetuate these poisons.

But I’m not drinking the Kool-Aid. I go through my periods of anger and near-misanthropy, but that’s not who I am. I stand on the side of love, and so many people out there are standing with me. I was blessed to read a post by educator Valencia’s Garden tonight (h/t EduColor) titled “Questions Children of Color are Asking: Am I the Next Hashtag?” In it, she describes reading and writing workshops she recently facilitated with teens to help them cope with the trauma of repeatedly seeing killings played out before them on social media.

Some students expressed fear or hatred of police officers, specifically white police officers, and wondered why police are so afraid of black people. “Before I could move on to anything else in my lesson,” she writes, “I had to address self-love and provide an understanding that we are not helpless and hopeless but we are actually stronger now than we have ever been. What makes us strong is the ability to love, unconditionally.”

Since transitioning out of my state of rage about these killings—and the long line of killings that preceded them—the power of love has been taking root in my heart. As frequently as we hear about these violent events, we just as frequently (need to) hear about the people spreading love. And educators like Valencia’s Garden are prioritizing love in their teaching of young people. As often as I lament that hate just won’t “die out,” love won’t die out either. I’m going to continue seeking out and spreading love when, where and how I can: at work, at home, in my extended family, with my friends, online, at the grocery store. And I hope you’ll join me.

That’s not to say we shouldn’t speak out against wrong and injustice. On the contrary, silence is tantamount to complicity. And make no mistake, my friends, Jesus is a lover of justice, despite how some folks want to characterize him. Many of us are tired and disillusioned and we may not feel like we can do much, but we can start where we are. I'm really not trying to be cliché or overly simplistic about this. But each of us has realms of influence, whether they're families, classrooms, offices, community organizations, boardrooms, police precincts, judicial or legislative chambers or friendships. And we can use them on behalf of what is right. We humans have the obligation and the capacity to pursue both love and justice. Really, our society—our world—can’t have one without the other. As Dr. Cornel West states so eloquently, "Never forget that justice is what love looks like in public."

Note: MrYoungGun100 (reveal yourself, friend!) recently commented that I haven’t blogged in nearly two years. I started this post over two hours ago and couldn’t go one minute without an interruption from Mini Mo—until I got her to bed. She’s at least partly to blame for my absence! I’m conjuring up a plan to start posting again though…

Mini Mo: Reading the World "Like Me"

Mini Mo turned three years old about a month ago, and in addition to all the wonderful things other mothers have warned me about regarding this age, my little one has become quite the vocal observer of her surroundings--but more importantly of herself.

This self-observation really caught my attention a few months ago during a trip to Old Navy. To convince Mini Mo she needn't fear the half dozen mannequins that greeted us at the door, I walked to the one that looked like a young black girl with afro puffs and said, "Look! She's got puffs like you!" She unclenched my legs and eyed the mannequin, asking me to lift her so she could touch its puffs. From that day forward, whenever we go to any shopping center, Miyah looks for mannequins with "puffs like me!" (On our last trip to Old Navy just last week, she hugged the mannequin with the puffs. I'm so mad I didn't snap a photo.)

I wonder what magic is waiting in
Mini Mo's puffballs.

She continues to notice hair that looks like hers, and I encourage her observations. After all, she got that hair from me. :-) I want her to know I love my hair and her hair and that she should love her hair, too. That's why I purchased Penny and the Magic Puffballs, a children's book by Alonda Williams about a girl who comes to appreciate her puffs and the power they give her. Mini Mo was shocked to find at the end of the book a collage of photographs featuring girls of varying ages and with all kinds of puffballs--and she even thought one of them was her! She saw herself, and it was a beautiful thing.

Her reading of similarities between herself and those around her extends beyond hair these days, though. Sure, she'll note that "Daddy's wearing flip-flops like me" or "Mommy's got a necklace like me." But she's also noticing skin tone. Just the other day, she stated out of the blue, "I'm brown," to which I replied, "That's right. You are brown." She continued, "Mommy's brown and Daddy's brown." I kept her going.

"What about your brother?"

"He's brown, too."

"What about Kayla*?"

"She's white."

This exchange was a clear reminder that children grow up understanding differences (and similarities) in identities early on; it's their environment that shapes how they interpret them. I was so happy that, in this case, Mini Mo's interpretation was one of simple fact--and Kayla is one of her oldest buddies. Well, old for a three-year-old.

Beyond observing her external identifiers, Mini Mo seems to be owning her power as an individual. Let me just say: I know that her stepping into her fourth year means she has a ton of ego. Truer words were never written of this child, who really seems to have been self-assured and confident from day one. But when she sees strong, confident figures in front of her, she relates to them.

Case in point: Her aunt and uncle sent her Dr. Kimberly Brown's children's book Queen Like Me: The True Story of Girls Who Changed the World for her birthday. When hearing about the wise Queen of Sheba, the Sphinx-inspiring Nefertari and the determined Nzinga--along with Harriet Tubman, Coretta Scott King, Mary McCleod Bethune and many others--she kept wanting me to repeat these women's names. It was like she needed to be sure she got them down. She then agreed with the book's refrain that each one was "a queen like me."

Sure, she's a kid who loves books and beautiful images like any other kid, but Mini Mo's increasing literacy surrounding her identity and those of others leaves me happy about the messages she's internalizing at this young age and at this historical moment. Would she have been able to see a mannequin with afro puffs even ten years ago? Doubt it.

As she grows older and becomes increasingly aware of forces that might counter these messages, it may be harder for our family--and her teachers, I hope--to maintain them. But we're planting seeds, and I'm confident they'll bear good fruit. Besides, Mini Mo also seems to have an affinity for truth...like me.

*Not the cutie's real name

Happy Being Me

Image courtesy of HealthWorks

*Cough, cough* Goodness--I just wiped the cobwebs off this thing. It's been a hot minute, and a lot has happened in the interim. For starters, I got a new job that has completely changed the way I prioritize my time. This blog has not made the cut--but I've missed it.

Other things have happened, things that have caused me to seriously evaluate myself. More than at any other eventful period in my life (perhaps), this phase has revealed to me that the world outside myself can really get me wrong. I've dealt with guilt (self- and otherwise imposed) for having even less time with Mini Mo each day than I had before, for having to depend on even more people to help take care of her (so blessed to have wonderful folks in my life), for having a tough time figuring out dinner most nights, for having even less inclination to de-shamble my house. I've been planning to fantabulize Mini Mo's room since before she was born, and I haven't really gotten around to it--two and half years later.

Yet, I'm proud of myself and I like myself. I dared to try something new in my life, and I'm more fulfilled because of it. I recognize my shortcomings and am cool with myself in spite of them. I teach, converse with, listen to, discipline, indulge, learn from and treasure Mini Mo. I try to make sure my whole family gets quality time together and to simply show love, even with our ridiculously busy schedules. I let my hubby know that our relationship, as the root of our family, is paramount. I'm smart, I'm funny (sometimes in ways that only I understand), I'm kind and I'm pensive. I'm working to help others--and I'm a work in progress.

But sometimes the world outside myself can make me question my plusses, the extent to which I like my otherwise confident self, and downright judge me like nobody's business. It gets to be pretty heavy at times. So the other day, I got real with myself and said, "Self, sometimes you have to encourage yourself, and you have to take some time to be happy with yourself." The time I spent doing both of those things was invaluable, and I have a new commitment to them, to myself. More importantly, I think this attention to myself will make me a better woman, wife, mother, friend and person.

I'm not perfect, but I'm feeling myself--and I'm not counting on others to do that for me. I simply don't have time.

The Game

  

My wonderful sister-friends continue to be inspired! I'm happy to share the latest inspired piece by my dear friend Jan. She raises some important points about what dating has morphed into--a game essentially--and exposes the inherent problems in the concept, especially for someone who's tired of playing. I encourage you to continue the discussion below. Enjoy and ponder!

~Moka B.

I was listening to a radio show this morning when the hosts started talking about “The Game” of dating.  The discussion revolved around how men and women should avoid showing too much interest initially in order to ultimately gain the interest of the other party.  As a single female who has had my fair share of unsuccessful attempts to develop a relationship with great eligible bachelors, I paid close attention to this discussion because it is a situation with which I am all too familiar.

From my widely varied and extensive dating experience, I’ve always been intrigued by the strong interest that I receive from men to whom I do not reciprocate the interest.  Contrarily, the men that I do show interest in do not express the same feelings towards me, or they show interest long after I've become disinterested (like 5 years later).

I perceive The Game as actions--or should I say ‘a lack of actions’--that essentially require one to avoid taking action and to avoid appearing too interested in the other party. Some of the rules of The Game include waiting on the man to make the first call, never contacting him twice in a row without a response to my previous contact attempt, waiting on him to ask me out for both the first and second date before initiating a date, being the one to end conversations on the phone, not being too available, avoiding long text responses, etc. (You get the point)…In order to be a good player, I must do these things despite my innermost desires to do the opposite.  Hence, by properly managing my lack of interest, I should be able to keep the man interested long enough to actually get to know me better and not be turned off by my interest in him.  It’s funny how being interested in someone is actually a turnoff.

There’s one trick: during my game-restricted and limited time with my potential match, I must establish a connection and attract him.  The one assumption is that this man would be otherwise attracted and interested in me if he was not turned off by my expression of interest and availability.  All I’m essentially trying to do by playing The Game is buy more time and allow him to judge me for who I am and not perceive me as being desperate, demanding, or lonely.  Don’t ask me why breaking any of The Game rules I mentioned above is perceived as desperate, demanding, or lonely because I have no idea.  I probably wouldn't be writing this blog if I knew. ;-)

Maybe it is true that withholding my interest initially may be beneficial.  After all, I want to be pursued and I wouldn't want my interest to get in the way of his opportunity to show me who he really is and what he wants from me.

Maintaining my attractiveness and attraction to a man while being uninterested and unavailable at the same time is a challenging concept and an act that I have not yet mastered.  If I'm acting uninterested and unavailable then it is probably because I'm actually uninterested and I'd rather not be available to spend time with you.  I find it difficult to be honest and genuine when I’m putting up a front and playing hard to get.  I mean, once I get in a relationship I’ll be breaking all those rules anyway.  So why front now?  Just so I can be accused of “changing” later?  What do you think?

~Jan

The Reverend Dr. Seuss (for Paula Deen, Dark Girls, and Haters)

A Star-Bellied Sneetch assuming superiority over a
Plain-Bellied Sneeth.
courtesy of hilobrow.com

After reading Dr. Seuss's Sneetches on Beaches to Mini Mo last week, I thought to myself, "Dang! Dr. Seuss brought a word right there!" In essence, Star-Bellied Sneetches thought they were better than Plain-Bellied Sneetches and went out of their way to showcase their superiority over the Sneetches without stars. They excluded them and put them down, to the point that the Plain-Bellied Sneetches paid money to change themselves in order to fit in with the Star-Bellied Sneetches. When the Star-Bellied Sneetches realized that they could no longer distinguish which Sneetches were "better" than the others, they then paid to change themselves! Getting the picture here? Hatred and prejudice (and wasted money) over that which is superficial.

I read this book to my child right around the time the bomb dropped on a bigoted Paula Deen--and some of her supporters!--and right before the premiere of the documentary Dark Girls and the start of George Zimmerman's trial for the murder of Trayvon Martin. This reading also took place weeks after people went H.A.M. over an adorable Cheerios ad. While it's been easy to wax hopeful after reflecting on the truths of this children's book, I'm conscious enough to know that the forces of prejudice are many and varied: long established institutionally in some cases and deep-rooted within families in other cases. (Btw, Crunk Feminist Crunkadelic makes similar big-picture connections in her post "Girl, Bye: Why This Moment is Bigger than Paula Deen." Do check it out.) Mini Mo's father and I are planning to teach her early and often that she is not better than anyone else, nor is anyone else better than she is. The teaching's got to count for something, methinks.

At 66 years old, Paula Deen is perhaps too old (and too deeply Southern?) to have had The Sneetches read to or discussed with her. Maybe those who have tormented dark girls all over the globe, even within their own families, didn't apply the book's themes to themselves. Whatever the case, it's no secret that, even when children go through stages of rebellion and alternate influences, the fundamental teachings they grow up with have lasting impacts--for better or worse. I guess that's what gives me a little hope. Yes, bigots continue to teach bigotry to their children, but people with good sense are teaching their children, too. People with good sense, TURN UP! And, consider reading The Sneetches to your children, nieces, nephews, cousins, godchildren, etc. The Reverend Dr. Seuss excellently highlights and preaches about the ridiculousness of prejudice. In the end, after all the wasted money and confusion about who's better and who's lesser, "the Sneetches got really quite smart" when "they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches / And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches."

If you're unfamiliar with The Sneetches (celebrating its 50th anniversary), here's an awesome video version of it, submitted by YouTuber m7a7b725! Enjoy and share!

Definition of a Man

Just in time for Father's Day, I'm happy to share a new guest blog post by my oldest friend and dear sister, Darlita. As the mother of a son, she probably didn't have to stretch her mind very far to apply the themes of a romantic comedy to her growing boy. While the film she contemplates isn't about fathers instructing sons on manhood per se, it does tackle a common definition of manhood--one that needs challenging. Check it out!

~Moka B.

Jake shows Cal how it's done.
Photo by BEN GLASS – © 2011 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

What is the definition of manhood? What does it mean to be a man? I pondered these questions recently while watching the movie Crazy, Stupid, Love. There is a scene in the film where Jake (Ryan Gosling) is talking to Cal (Steve Carrell) about his sad lot in life, specifically the demise of his marriage. Jake assures Cal, "I'm going to help you re-discover your manhood." After this declaration, their interactions revolve around Cal meeting lots of women and building up his confidence so he can sleep with them. Is this what manhood means?

Growing up in a single-parent home with my father, manhood, to me, meant taking care of your family: paying the bills, keeping food on the table, making sure homework and chores were done, keeping your family safe. It had nothing to do with sleeping with multitudes of women. I know there is a culture (and double standard) in our society where a man is expected to be a "real man" and thus, a "ladies' man." I pray, however, that our young boys are reared to be more than that. I pray they are reared to be responsible, productive members of society, men who respect all women to the utmost.

~Darlita

What does manhood mean to you?

Mommy Moment: Thinking about Mini Mo

There's a spark of magic in your eyes.

Candyland appears each time you smile.

Never thought that fairy tales came true,

But they come true when I'm near you.

You're a genie in disguise

Full of wonder and surprise...

If you're a soul head like I am, you recognize those lyrics from "Betcha By Golly Wow" by the soul group the Stylistics (also nicely covered by Prince and Phyllis Hyman). I've been singing this song to Mini Mo for months now, to the point that she can now sing along (as much as a 21-month-old can). We often sing this song together during her bath time, as we did tonight. 

During our duet, I couldn't help but look at her happy, smiling, singing face and reflect on how blessed I am to have her in my life. Those lyrics are so true for me and my baby, and it's not always easy to remember that when she's showcasing the "fiercer" of her personality traits. I wrote on this blog a while ago that I would tell you all about Mini Mo's developing personality; now we're approaching two years! Late as I am, here's a list of words I often use to describe my child:

Exhibiting "strong-willed"

• strong-willed
• assertive
• diva
• happy
• smart
• funny
• silly

Exhibiting "silly" on Memorial Day

Exhibiting "happy," right after being silly with Mommy

That was right off the top of my head, and the top three are generally the ones I use most frequently. This is a habit I want to watch out for, as it could demoralize her as she grows. The thing is: these traits are highly problematic when this toddler's antics are preventing us from making progress, whether it's getting dressed, getting fed, or getting out of the house. These antics cause us to "bump heads" sometimes--because some of these traits are exhibited by the other lady of the house (ahem).

Still, when she's not a toddler (and even while she is, kinda), these traits will represent a very strong young woman. I'm already proud of my amazing girl, but I will be so proud of this self-assured woman who knows what she wants and won't take any crap from anybody, especially some knuckle-headed boy. (That was another mommy moment. Ha ha.)

So, as I work on finding the silver linings in my child's sometimes challenging personality, it helps to think about the fact that, for me, she really is a fairy tale come true--full of wonder and lots of surprise. 

Check out the Stylistics performing "Betcha By Golly Wow" in 1975 (courtesy of YouTuber HAYASEZA0602):

Spotlight On: Valenrich Wellness, LLC and Dr. Nadia M. Richardson

From a recent Valenrich Wellness flyer

I'm happy to share the first installment in what I'm hoping will be a fruitful, insightful "Spotlight On..." series here on the blog. As I've thought about the women I personally know--those who are making strides to positively impact Black women's issues and wellness--I decided to learn more about them through conversations and to share their work with as many folks as I can.

Thus, I am excited to feature the first spotlight on Valenrich Wellness, LLC, founded by Dr. Nadia M. Richardson. Nadia and I took some time to chat about her work and what she hopes to accomplish. What ensued was a revealing discussion about the stigma of mental health concerns among young people, particularly college-aged Black women at predominantly White institutions (PWIs). Here's our conversation:

MB:

First, tell us a little about your organization.

NR:

Sure. My professional background is a bit diverse. I came out of the nonprofit sector and went into education; specifically student affairs within institutions of higher education.

MB:

What kind of nonprofit work did you do?

NR:

I worked with the Institute of International Education and the United Negro College Fund Special Program's Institute for International Public Policy. Those were the two big nonprofits I worked with professionally but I've been involved in the nonprofit sector as a volunteer for as long as I can remember.

I've always participated in programming or research that explored issues of diversity and focused primarily on issues of race, class, gender, and ethnicity. I developed courses about social justice, diversity, and identity development. While teaching a class, I incorporated hidden disabilities (specifically mental illnesses) into a lecture on diversity and, after the lecture, I had a student disclose her mental health status to me. It made me wonder how many students over the years I had interacted with but who did not feel comfortable disclosing their mental health concerns. Or worse, how many students with mental health concerns did I interact with who were silently struggling or feeling unsupported by their campuses? That curiosity led to my research on the experiences of college students with mental health concerns. Valenrich Wellness sort of came out of my research findings and the expressed interest of campus professionals such as faculty and student affairs staff.

MB:

Hmm...So even campuses with student counseling services...you noticed some lapses with available services and students' feelings about getting help for their hidden disabilities?

NR:

Absolutely.  I heard several different stories. Some students did not know that their campuses had a counseling center. Some felt guilt for experiencing mental health concerns and relied on informal forms of support such as religion, friends, denial, or substance abuse.

Others went for perhaps a single counseling session and felt as though they didn't have anything in common with their counselor and so there was little they were able to get from the interaction. But what I really learned was that there were different layers as to why the women that I spoke to in my particular study experienced mental health concerns the way they did.

In my study, I combined my established interest in traditionally underrepresented communities with my emerging interest in and commitment to mental wellness. With that in mind, I interviewed Black female college students with mental health concerns at a predominantly White institution.

There already exists a good amount of research on the experiences of Black students at PWIs but few that focus on their mental wellness and experiences with mental health concerns.

MB:

What are some of those layers which seem unique to Black women on these campuses, regarding mental health concerns?

NR:

What I learned was that various forms of discrimination (institutional, covert, micro-aggressions, etc.) encouraged the study participants to commit to mentally distressing performances of identity. Some of the layers that are unique to Black women is this idea that you have to be strong at all times; an idea that is historically rooted in the justified inhumane labor of Black women and has been passed down through generations as a socio-cultural rite of passage into Black womanhood.

MB:

Ah, yes. I've heard about this idea. Joan Morgan calls it the "strongblackwoman" idea in When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost.

NR:

Absolutely!

MB:

So, how did you go from your interests in underrepresented communities and your research to creating Valenrich?

NR:

I am a believer in participatory action research. I don't want to just publish work; I want that work to inform community efforts that can have a positive impact on various communities. During the course of my research, I repeatedly heard from colleagues that this was information that needed to be shared. Through Valenrich, I develop specific training, lectures, and advocacy workshops that use research to make issues of mental health, discrimination, and diversity link in a way that is understandable and accessible to everyone.

It is a way to assist universities in fostering student mental wellness by actively addressing issues of diversity on their campuses and providing faculty and staff with the tools they need to support students with mental health concerns. It is also a way to dismantle the fear and stigma that many have regarding mental health. If professors are fearful of students with mental health concerns, they are much less likely to be of any assistance to [the mental health concerns'] persistence.

MB:

Now that you're Dr. Nadia Richardson, are you working with Valenrich Wellness full-time, or are you working on a college campus too?

NR:

Valenrich is my full-time gig right now but I am still looking for the right position. Perhaps a faculty position.

MB:

Students definitely need you in the classroom, and they need to know that mental wellness is of the utmost importance. That leads me to my next question. In the grand scheme of things, what's the most important thing you want people to know about the work you're doing?

NR:

I believe that stigma about mental health continues because we don't allow ourselves to be honest about how we feel and proactive about addressing those things that truly threaten our mental well-being. Racism, sexism, ableism, classism and all the other -isms that are too abundant to name in this conversation all threaten our mental health. Speaking our truth, valuing ourselves, letting go of the guilt that we accept for not being some unreachable form of 'perfection,' and actively addressing the various forms of discrimination continue to exist are crucially important to ourselves and our communities.

MB:

Yes! I wish we had more room discuss all of those things! Given your emphasis on college students, though, would you say that there's something about that kind of environment that either exacerbates or concentrates those -isms you pointed out? Are young adults particularly vulnerable to those forces that threaten mental well-being?

NR:

It is both important and useful to address mental health concerns in college students because it is during the traditional college-age years when students are away from home for the first time and adjusting to a new environment that mental health concerns surface. I believe that universities fall short in fully equipping students for our increasingly diverse world or to think about diversity in complex ways that would, for example, allow someone to understand mental health socially rather than medically. If a person has bi-polar depression for which there is no 'cure', that diagnosis for all intents and purposes impacts their perspective and informs their identity.  However, universities continue to graduate students who have never so much as had a diversity and/or social justice class and are therefore ill-equipped to be reflective contributors to society. I hope I'm making sense.

I think what I am trying to say is, in order for the fear and stigma of mental health to be dismantled, we have to be willing to see and understand mental health in different ways and consider how our society contributes to mental distress by turning a blind eye to discrimination.

MB:

Yes, that absolutely makes sense, especially since we're talking about hidden disabilities. It makes sense for institutions of higher learning to train academically, vocationally and socially.

Just as progress has been made in terms of accommodating and learning about disabilities we can see (though much more progress is necessary), we need awareness for mental health concerns, too. What an important mission.

How can people find out more about Valenrich Wellness, and how can they reach you?

NR:

Thanks. I'm excited about the possibilities and very passionate about the work.

Thank you again for thinking of me and inviting me to be a part of your series. I am so excited to share this information with you.

MB:

You're so welcome! I love it, and I love that you're tackling such a traditionally taboo issue. Our communities need this kind of awareness, and it's great that you're tapping into higher education to do that.

NR:

Valenrich Wellness has a website in the works - www.valenrich.com. If people are interested, they can also connect on facebook (www.facebook.com/ValenrichWellness) or twitter (@ValenrichLLC).

I thoroughly enjoyed chatting with Nadia and tapping into some of those issues which continue to stigmatize the active pursuit of attaining mental wellness. Nadia is passionately fighting that stigma. Be on the lookout for Valenrich Wellness events!

"We Just Don't Want to Know" About Others' Pain

While attending a wonderful panel by members of the Crunk Feminist Collective a couple of weeks ago, I was inspired by a particular idea surrounding self-care. One way that we can care for ourselves is to acknowledge that we need to lean on others sometimes. I'm blessed to have a wonderful circle of sister-friends, and I have invited them to begin sharing their thoughts on this blog as guest bloggers. The first to do so, Kemobi, touches on the very ideas that 1) sometimes we need to reach out to others and 2) sometimes we need to take the time to hold someone else when they reach out. Enjoy and contemplate her heartfelt message below.

~Moka B.

Good morning....So I am sitting at work going through some paper work and jammin' to one of my playlists. I haven't listened to this particular playlist in a while, so I forgot the rotation of the songs. One of my FAVORITE songs comes on..."You Just Don't Want to Know" by Marvin Winans (see video below from YouTuber Shaun Peck). I love the lyrics to this song....they are so POWERFUL!  If you have time, I suggest that you look it up and listen to it, but if not, it is a song that talks about pain from the absence of not being able to go to someone to talk to about pain, hardships, mistakes made, advice, etc. It specifies that, many times when people are hurting, they don't reach out for help because they are scared of what others may think or the judgments that may come along with their confession. However, when someone does get the courage to speak up and expose whatever it is going on in their lives, often times many of us are "too busy"--thus "We Just Don't Want to Know." Now the roles that are taken on in life are numerous: mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, wives, husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, our titles on our jobs, our roles and responsibilities at our places of worship...Trust me. I know the list can go on for miles. So I know how busy we can be.

In this journey called life, I have learned that "THINGS HAPPEN," that no matter how perfectly planned and subconsciously in control of our lives we think we are, things happen. I can hear my childhood pastor saying now, "If you haven't had hardships in life yet... just keep on living." He was sooooooo right.  I believe that GOD has a plan for each and every one of our lives (if we submit), plans not to harm us but to prosper us and to bring us hope and a future (paraphrasing Jeremiah 29:11). I will be the first to admit that sometimes I have gotten caught up with the busy pace and the pressures of life and have stepped on GOD's toes!! Sorry GOD! (Sorry, I digress..Lol. So many thoughts and typing fast!!)

Anyways, when things happen to people close to us (and people who may not be as close), and they choose to share, let us (myself included) not blow them off because "I'm so busy." Let's take a minute and be there for that person. I feel that this can be done in so many ways with today's modern technology. Whatever method works for you...make the pledge to be there!!! Let's change it to "We Want to Know, We Care, and We're There"!!!! Yes it is true, we might be "SO BUSY," but I shudder to think that we are "TOO BUSY" to be there for someone.

Romans 15:1: Now we that are strong should bear the infirmities of the weak....(paraphrasing again) LET'S KEEP EACH OTHER LIFTED, LADIES!!!!

Beyond Lil Wayne: Maybe More of Us Need to Feel Sick

When I glanced at what were clearly side-by-side images of Emmett Till, assuming the caption would reference the Lil Wayne controversy, I had a feeling the image next to the cute, smiling boy's face would be from his funeral. However, I did not expect it to actually show his unrecognizable, brutalized face, which his mother so famously wanted the world to see. After all these years of knowing the story and reading accounts of the events, I have intentionally avoided seeing that face, knowing what it would do to me. Now, here I am, fighting back tears and nausea, as I knew I would.

Rapper and musician O'hene Savánt posted the following image and caption on his Facebook page on February 16, 2013, in response to Lil Wayne's lyric and apparent ignorance:

‎"“beat that pussy up like Emmett Till.”-Lil WayneI've TRIED not to say anything but I'm a revolutionary so some things I can't tolerate! THIS is what happens when you have ignorant heroes young people...and don't think for a second that this matters to someone who has a majority white demographic. If you're BLACK, Wayne doesn't rap for you. YOUR heritage doesn't matter to him. YOU are disposable. It matters to me though, I'm a soul brother from the lineage of Curtis Mayfield and Langston Hughes artistically. It's UN ACCEPTABLE, and part of the reason that I am just about through with Hip hop. Sorry but I just am... Hip BOP, will be my life from now on MAINLY because Hip hop has been taken over FOR TOO LONG by fools! I'm sick of grown men and women, defending and ignoring disrespect and disloyalty to my community. The CULTURE of Hip hop is dominated by a bunch of bitches and hoes. Bitches who are scared to speak up, and hoes who are willing to do anything for money. Well, I'm not one. Choose your "here-hoes" better. Choose who you support with your money more wisely. That is all...for now.

Read this if you don't know about Emitt Till.
...they took Till, transported him to a barn, beat him and gouged out one of his eyes, before shooting him through the head and disposing of his body in the Tallahatchie River, weighting it with a 70-pound (32 kg) cotton gin fan tied around his neck with barbed wire. His body was discovered and retrieved from the river three days later".

Do you feel sick too? I hope you do, and I hope you take that feeling and pass it on to the children in your lives, whether they're students, nieces, nephews, offspring or neighbors. I don't want to disturb or frighten these children, and I don't want them to believe that knowing their history should be limited to the ghastly aspects, of which there are many. Instead, I want them to understand that all of this history, good and bad, should be respected, and they should be proud to know it. If that involves some repulsion, then maybe that repulsion will help them to grasp the seriousness of the legacies that make their lives possible. I imagine that not feeling sick about these events and the society that made them possible allowed Lil Wayne to say the ignorant ish that he said. Otherwise, he could not have opened his mouth to say it, no matter his creative process. (George E. Curry shares a similar sentiment here.) 

One day, when I think she's ready, I'll have to share stories like Emmett Till's with Mini Mo. Maybe she'll feel sad like I did the first time I saw Roots. Maybe she'll feel angry. Perhaps she'll even have nightmares, but I'll hold her if she does. I'll tell her that, while things like this still happen, our world has made some important changes. Because these things still happen, I'll tell her that we can't forget and that we can't let our children forget.

Bob Dylan shares this same message in his "The Ballad of Emmett Till" (video courtesy of YouTuber leonehistory):

"Natural Isn't for Everybody"...Er?

My crew and I represent a range of looks and preferences,
and we love and respect those preferences! Here we are in
October 2012.

Look, sisters, I respect the fact that "our hair"--kinky, curly, nappy, kinky-curly, whatever you want to call it--can accommodate a broad range of looks, styles, textures, you name it. It's very cool to witness this spectrum of looks.

When some sisters cry, "Natural isn't for everybody," then, I have to wonder what they mean. I just want to throw these tidbits of agreement out there (but I don't think it's what some of them mean):

1. Taking care of natural hair is not for everybody--so true. Some sisters have no idea how to comb, moisturize, style, or otherwise maintain kinky, coily hair. They never had to learn, so learning as an adult is overwhelming for some women who'd rather dispense with the drama of learning. Hey, I hear ya.
2. Certain styles are not for everybody--amen. Maybe a fro-hawk on one lady is not so cute on another. Maybe one woman's texture is perfect for a huge halo of hair to encircle her head, but maybe another woman's hair doesn't kink up enough to achieve the same kind of halo. Everything doesn't work for everybody.

What I really think some of these ladies are suggesting, though, is that sporting the natural texture that grows out of one's head is not for everybody, that some women "need" relaxers. To that, I cry, "Ridiculous!" How can wearing one's hair the way it naturally grows not "be for" that person? That's the way it was growing before relaxers touched it, yes?

To each her own in 2013 and beyond, ladies. You want to loc it up, weave it up, fry it up? Cool. We all have preferences, but let's embrace the diversity we see in each other, a diversity that is just now becoming acceptable in many ways. That is a beautiful thing, so let's respect it and each other.

"Remembering is Not Enough"

Somber and moved. 

Those are the primary emotions I felt on the cold afternoon of December 12, as I walked out of the small theater at the Civil Rights Memorial Center in Montgomery, Alabama. Yes, I knew the horrifying story of Emmett Till's murder. I knew about Viola Liuzzo, Medgar Evers and Bloody Sunday. I even knew about the memorial dedicated to them and about 36 other people who had died as a result of Jim Crow racism.

What I didn't expect was the challenge placed in front of me after viewing the film Faces in the Water, a film that tells the story of the memorial and the people and events that inspired it. As the film closes, various voice-overs provide people's responses to the film and the memorial, the most striking of which (to me) states the following: "Remembering is not enough."

It's not enough to remember the hundreds of murders that went unsolved during the Civil Rights era and beyond strictly because of hatred and bigotry. It's not even enough to feel bad about those hate crimes and instances of discrimination--racial, gendered, religious or otherwise--that occur today for those same reasons. As I proceeded from that theater into the next room, deep in thought, I came face-to-face with the Wall of Tolerance, where I was invited to take this pledge, to do more than just remember:

By placing my name on the Wall of Tolerance, I pledge to take a stand against hate, injustice and intolerance. I will work in my daily life for justice, equality and human rights - the ideals for which the Civil Rights martyrs died.

Thinking about my daily life--my children, my nieces and nephews, my work, this blog--I knew that I might not ever participate in a Selma-to-Montgomery type of march or risk my life to ensure that others can vote. But I can step in when I see the children and the adults in my life subscribing to and spreading bigoted ideologies. I can use my classroom or cubicle or wherever I work to infuse "work-related material" with ideas that oppose prejudice and bias. I can use this blog to continue spreading the values of inclusion and people's inherent dignity.

My name added to the Wall of Tolerance

With these thoughts in mind, I added my name to the wall, and its largeness was convicting. I then walked outside to see and touch the memorial itself. I hesitated to put my fingers into the chilly water, but I did it anyway and thought about the immeasurable sacrifices those martyrs made in the name of doing what is right. In 2013, I will seek out ways, even small ways, that I can carry on that legacy. I hope you will too. Our children need us to do so and to teach them to do it as well.

I'm intrigued to know: what are some bigoted ideas you've seen from children lately? Where do you think they got those ideas, and what do you think can be done to counteract them?

Hair Length: Who Does it Hurt?

"Every time a woman cuts off her hair, somewhere a little black girl cries!" 

-The Game's Tasha Mack

Tasha Mack uttered these lines when Melanie spontaneously chopped off some of her famously long hair. I grew up with a similar sentiment, in that I was threatened by friends and several family members throughout the years regarding my hair: "I'll beat you if you ever cut your hair!" That kinda thing. Of course, I never took these threats seriously, but they were meant to communicate that my long, "good" hair was important to people other than myself. That hair apparently meant something, and I dared not touch it.

Well, on November 1, I did touch it, after thinking about it for a long time. The experience brought those old threats back to mind and made me reflect on the various do's and don't's surrounding black women's hair. If I had long hair, I owed it to other people to maintain that length, but it only reinforces--in my humble opinion--more problematic standards of beauty that many black women have internalized: this idea that we have to strive for straight hair or long hair. I'm just going with healthy hair.

While I don't completely agree with the idea that "I am not my hair," I do believe that cutting my hair doesn't harm me or anyone else. It was, in fact, a liberating (if slightly scary) experience. More importantly, it was my experience to have, and I captured pictorial evidence of the whole thing! 

Freshly shampooed and conditioned hair

The actual length of my hair--some serious shrinkage!

It's about to go down.

First cut, off the top. I cannot lie, the result (considering shrinkage)
was shorter than I intended. My heart picked up pace at this point!

All the cut-off hair...that's a lot of hair.

The finished look

Back view of the finished cut

Conditioner rinsed out and leave-in applied, I headed out for the day
with the least amount of hair I've ever had in my life. I'm liking it!

Confederate Flags and Consumers

I know. I've been gone for a minute, and I've missed writing my ideas down. As an idea magnet, I've struggled with balancing my time as a working mommy to a 1-year-old (post forthcoming about Mini Mo's debut into toddlerhood!) and a now-16-year-old and blogging. To those who have the balance down, give me tips!

As for today's post, I need to make it clear that I am a native Alabamian. Therefore, Confederate flags are as common to me as sweet tea and hearing/saying, "y'all." From t-shirts and jackets to vehicular vanity plates and full-sized flags in front of buildings, Confederate flags are ubiquitous. Hey, even the Alabama State Flag itself incorporates the Confederate Flag.

However, it's the flag I noticed in front of a business site for a local marble and granite shop and a trailer seller that raised questions for me, one in particular: What is this flag supposed to communicate to a potential customer?

I don't know which business is sporting this flag or who owns it, but in pondering this question, I thought about what that flag connotes in general, for a wide range of people:

1. For many black people I know, it means racism, period, and calls to mind lynch mobs, white hoods, and burning crosses.
2. For other people I know, it means Southern pride and heritage and recalls a history of states defending their rights. (Rights to what? That's debatable, kinda.) The Alabama state motto is Audemus Jura Nostra Defendere, Latin for "We dare to defend [or to maintain] our rights."

There may be other connotations, but these are the two most common, in my experience. Yet, there are entities today, classified as hate groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), that use this flag to represent their causes as well.

Kirk Lyons marches at a 2003 neo-Confederate rally in Richmond, Va.
Check out the interesting participant on the right side of the photo.
Courtesy of splcenter.org

A prominent one is the League of the South (LS), identified by the SPLC as a Neo-Confederate organization. Check out some sentiments from LS members, as reported on the SPLC's website within its "Intelligence Files":

“Somebody needs to say a good word for slavery. Where in the world are the Negroes better off today than in America?”— Jack Kershaw, League of the South board member, 1998

“[T]he Southern League supports a return to a political and social system based on kith and kin rather than an impersonal state wedded to the idea of the universal rights of man. At its core is a European population.”— Michael Hill, essay on League of the South website, 2000 

Now, these statements from LS  members seem to contradict this statement from the LS's official website, DixieNet.org, on its FAQ page:

Q:What is the LS position regarding blacks in the South?

A: The LS disavows a spirit of malice and extends an offer of good will and cooperation to Southern blacks in areas where we can work together as Christians to make life better for all people in the South. We affirm that, while historically the interests of Southern blacks and whites have been in part antagonistic, true Constitutional government would provide protection to all law-abiding citizens — not just to government-sponsored victim groups.

These few examples illustrate, to me, that the placing of a Confederate flag in front of a business location sends mixed signals. Does the owner anticipate only certain kinds of clientele? Should the potential customer interpret the flag's presence to mean only "Southern pride" or something else? I don't have the answers, but I bet many folks find it alienating. Given our state's history, I'd be inclined to look elsewhere for my granite countertop or trailer. What does the Confederate flag mean to you?