The "WHAT IF" Game

You know this game, some of us, all too well and then there are those of us who have played it so well, they have earned a gold medal in this event. I must admit at one time in my life I was a contender for the silver. Since February 26th, 2012, I am certain that Trayvon Martin's parents played that game, and if George Zimmerman is at all paying attention to the guttural reaction he has brought upon himself (playing hero only find himself the villain), he too is playing that game. Sadly, there is only cold comfort to be found when we ask ourselves the "WHAT IF'S" in our lives. 

Now some of you may find that statement somewhat poignant, but I am trying to pass on a lesson here. We cannot change whatever it is that we are what if-ing, what we can change is where we go from now. The other day while we were contemplating why; (a sibling of what if); a young man had to be taken and why in an age when this country has it's first Black President we still suffer racism. Someone I follow on Twitter repeated something that stuck with me. 

(Twitter Feed) Rev Run  Look on the BRIGHT side of things.. CONSTANTLY.......

I thought on it for a while, where was the BRIGHT side in Trayvon's death? I pondered this idea for a long time. Then I asked my 18 year old daughter what she thought the BRIGHT side might be. Her response was a flat "nothing". Then the mother in me was compelled to show her that there was one, after all how could I send her back into the world tomorrow without it? That is when it came to me. This horrible tragic act brought forth a LONG overdue conversation, better than that, it compelled people to re-examine how they view others, and maybe finally truly address the issue of race in America.

We have talked about it on occasion, then we all went back to business as usual. Today, tonight and hopefully tomorrow across dinner tables, in lunchroom and around the water cooler, people are and will be talking about racism. Some may be negative and some may think that we are making way too much of this, yet there is conversation taking place.

What we as a nation must come to grips with is that we aren't color blind, society doesn't allow for it. We kid ourselves when we say our children do not see color and they will be the generation that will not suffer the way the ones preceding them had. Let us look at a few truths, the media, society and other ills will, unfortunately, slowly change their perceptions. Another truth is that unlike my generation, our children are far from the Civil Rights Movement. I can recall the riots, and protests of re-busing by mothers not wanting Black students to be taken in what had been a predominantly White schools. This is not the memories of our children, but the history they learn in text books, making it removed from them.

So the final truth is this; the foundation has been laid. The Civil Rights Movement came and was won, establishing the rules of fair play. The hard part is what remains, rebuilding relations, something that should have been done a long time ago. By ignoring it we are not making things better, we are leaving them stagnant. Now with this event a new found dialogue has been created, giving us a chance to rectify the injustices that still exists and take race relations in America to the next level. It is no longer just a question between Blacks and Whites, but all races. Hispanics, Asians and Native Americans are to be included in this conversation as well. To remedy our nation, and to allow for future generations to not know of profiling and snap judgements, it is imperative that we start now.

I long for the day when sentences are not preceded by "The First Black" (fill-in-the-blank). When we actually can look at a man or woman for their character, rather than what their ancestry is, we can then say the chapter of racism is closed. Until then we have a lot of work to do and the opportunity has been given to us to start now. Maybe then we won't have to have those internal "What If" conversations as often, at least, not on this topic.

To quote one of my heroes, "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." – Martin Luther King, Jr.  I Have a Dream Quote

There is another quote I would like to leave you with.

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before beginning to improve the world." ~Anne Frank 

The work now is up to us....

          

I'm not asking for a Kumbaya Moment,..but still

Racism in America is inevitable. It is a result of our history,a part of our legacy and frankly in my opinion is our DNA. The topic of race in America has become a part of the dialogue on social networks, blogs and media coverage since the tragic senseless death of a young 17 year old boy named Trayvon Martin.  

The other day I touched on the topic, expressing how his name will forever be on the lips of those of us who remember the young men that died senselessly just as he had. There is nothing worse for a parent than to bury a child, sadly that is what Trayvon's parents had to do.  

Now, here are the few, of the many things that just get under my skin about this whole situation. To begin with this happened on February 26th, one month ago folks, yet the news became HEADLINES only recently. While I listened to the news tell me the dribble of Beyonce looking great two months post-birth, and who else is pregnant in Hollywood, this was going on.  Are you kidding me? It took the media three weeks to get to this nationally, but the Desperate Housewives case is on GMA and the Today Show? Then people wonder why so many Black people are upset! No offense, but that is some serious bull!

Granted, I was not present when Trayvon Martin was shot. I do not know exactly what transpired between him and George Zimmerman. What I do know is that Trayvon had a can of Arizona Ice Tea and Skittles. Not a gun, not a knife, not even a pair of brass knuckles, but it is Trayvon Martin who is dead! This is sparking Black parents to have conversations with their children on how to be when they find themselves the only chocolate chip in a sea of vanilla. 

Growing up I had that very conversation with my father. I think he believed he would never have to speak with me about such things. I suppose he allowed himself to be deluded to think that having daughters who were light skinned, his being a Doctor and living a respectable life with my mother in an almost all White neighborhood he wouldn't have to. All that changed one day when I was fourteen years old shopping for Christmas gifts for my friends in the local mall. This is a memory that has been seared in my brain, knowing that one day I too would have this talk. 

It all began in Spencer's, I was strolling through the cramped aisles looking at joke gifts after just having picked up giant Sugar Daddy's and Lip Smackers at CVS earlier. I was just browsing when an older white man began following me around the store. It creeped me out at first, for all I knew he was going to hit me over the head when I got close to the storage room door and rape me, so I decided to exit, rather than push my luck. Just as I made my way to the door he grabbed my arm, jerking me back in. The conversation went as follows;

old man: "Hold it right there!" 

Me: "Hey let go of me! What did I do?"

old man: "You think I don't know just because I didn't see you? I am sick of you niggers 

                     coming in stealing from my store!"

Me: "Did you just call me a nigger? What the hell is your problem?"

old man: "Just empty your pockets and purse! Now missy!"

Me: "Let go of my arm! My father is waiting for me at Sears and will be mad if I am 

                   late! I told you already, I didn't take anything!"

old man: "I just bet your father is even here! You will just empty them when the cops get  

                  here! I am not in the mood to play with your kind!"

Me: "GET OFF OF ME!" 

old man: "Shut up! You are going to wait for the cops! Then we will see!"

Now my father walks by and I am yelling at the top of my lungs causing a major scene in the store. My father walked in at the same time as the Police Officer. I thought great, now it will be all over and this guy can get his meds. 

My father: "Just what is going on here?"

 old man: "Nothing that concerns you!"
My father: "I believe it does, that is my daughter you are holding."

old man: "Well then you should have taught her not to steal!"

My father: "Christine!"

Me: "I swear Papa, I did nothing, I walked around, he followed me, when I tried to 

                    leave he grabbed me, I told him he was wrong."

Policeman: "Then let's clear this matter right now, empty your pockets and purse."

Me: "Why? He even said he didn't see me take anything, he just feels I did."

My father: "Sshh sshh, it will be okay, I believe you and we will  talk about all of this in a 

                    moment. Just had me your jacket and your purse."

Me: "okay"

The cop inspects, and finds nothing. The store owner still grills me with his eyes. The conversation continues.

My father: "I am sure we are free to leave now."

old man: "This time she didn't take a thing, but I know how they are! She probably hid it in  

                     here hoping to come back for it later!"

Police man: "Okay sir, you can leave."

My father:  "Dr."

Policeman: "Excuse me?"

My father:  "I am Dr. Coupet."

Policeman: "Okay Doc, anyway you and your kid can go now."

My father:   "and as for you sir, there is nothing in this store my daughter couldn't afford on 

                      her allowance alone."

old man: "Hmph!"

My father: "Don't worry she will not return here!"

I felt violated, somewhat humiliated, worse I was angry because I was accused and manhandled for nothing. That is when my father took me out of the mall, we were silent on the way back to the car, digesting the experience I suppose. Once we were in the car he had the talk. He explained to me that rules were different for Black people and we had to find a way to be submissive without degrading ourselves. He told me when I got my license it was important I was polite and respectful to the officer if ever pulled over, and when in stores to make certain that I never give the perception of any wrong doings, such as shoplifting. To be agreeable and somewhat in-offended when asked to have my bags checked when exiting a store.

The joke is that a Black boy is born a suspect. Unfortunately, that rang true on that night when George Zimmerman saw a young man walking home through the neighborhood and thought he was up to no good. Some of you may still not get what all the fervor and anger is about, but I hope my experience shed a light for you to further understand why we as a collective recognize racism so quickly.

I do not believe in two wrongs for one right, and am not calling for the head of George Zimmerman. What I do want is justice for Trayvon and the Martin family. Mr Zimmerman lost the right to claim self-defense with Stand Your Ground when he went in pursuit of Trayvon, and what is more when he used a racial slur when talking to 9-1-1 and being told to sit still. For these reasons he violated the rights of Trayvon Martin and committed a murder felony when he took that fatal shot.

So while we protest, boycott and apply pressure understand why this case has to be the last time a young Black man is killed simply for the color of his skin. One has to wonder would George Zimmerman have reacted the same way if Trayvon was blonde blue eyed Scandinavian looking in the same outfit. Something tells me no. I believe he looked at Trayvon and saw a threat merely because of his skin color.  Since he lived in a gated community, George Zimmerman knew that the police would quickly be on the scene. After all it wasn't the "HOOD"!

Only one quote this time but most appropriate; "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere"-Martin Luther King, Jr.

one more thing,...

This piece of poetry was inspired from a chapter in my past. I was lucky that God gave me sense to get up and leave. Not everyone can do that. In the midst of a relationship with an addict I got lost for a moment, until I got a hold of a pen and paper and these words came out and gave me the strength I needed to leave.  I am posting it in hopes that if you need that same strength or courage my words may inspire you. 

My farewell

My heart has never felt such pain

Pain so great that I waited for my chest to explode 

Just so that it relieves itself, to cease functioning

So not to feel a second more of this great discomfort

But it still beats on

I know what I must do 

And it will be the hardest thing I have to do

But I have no choice

You left me no choice

You and me, once we were beautiful

We were why Shakespeare wrote sonnets

And why God made flowers so fragrant and fruit so sweet

But not anymore

You brought someone into our relationship

She sat there in the room, making herself comfortable

And I tried to ignore your mistress

She walked in my home, slept in my bed and took those long drives with you till dawn

She became your secret obsession

Replacing the flame that once burned so brightly between us

To one that you burned beneath her

Even when she wasn't with you, she was in you

You craved her the way I wanted you to crave me

You would miss her fragrance, her taste

Needing her more and more everyday

Now you lie with her and I all alone

I wonder; "Had I been that crackpipe, would our love still have grown?"

So in the ruins  that you made here for me

Battered, tattered and torn. Broke and all alone

I know that tomorrow I will once again stand tall

While you will be crouched on the floor looking for pieces of her

For a brief thrill only she can give 

As your lips kiss her lips, slowly pulling her in

Inhaling the seductress' poison

I can only hope one day you will wake from her spell

Realizing why and how you lost me

Oh hell baby

I just hope you get well

and now Part Two

Back in February we lost a music icon. Whitney Houston. I was sad after losing another person I had grown up listening to. She was also someone I met a long time ago before she became a singer. She was two years older than me and a kind and sweet 18 yr old. At the time she was taking some sort of acting class near where I took piano lessons. We chatted (instigated by me the extrovert) and two years or so later I bought her 45 and Sam Goody. 

This is how I will remember her, at her best, with her life in front of her. Long before the addiction, before the paparazzi was stalking her every move and before we were judging those very decisions and actions.

I will not judge Whitney Houston for her addiction, or her downfall from grace. I can't, I haven't walked in her shoes. What I will say is that it was a shame that she was unable to save herself. From what I can tell you about addiction is that it is not a choice, or even a question of will power, the disease is more perverse to the mind than that. It wrecks havoc not only to the addict but to those around them. It becomes easier to enable them not because you don't care but from the hope that it will pass, they will get it and one day soon the addiction will end. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. There is an AdCouncil campaign that says it best; Denial is the worst addiction. 

So to the Houston family, my sympathy on your loss. To you reading my blog, if you are suffering from addiction get help, if you know someone suffering try not to enable their disease and get yourself some help. To the parents of young people, open a dialogue with your kid(s) so you can make certain they don't fall way of this. Because really, there but by the grace of God goes anyone of us.

Tonight the quote is one of hope for the addict. Mostly be cause I have hope, mostly because when we were kids no one once said I hope to be an addict when I grow up. Within the dreams of our youth lies the hope for a better day tomorrow for the addict.

"I will persist until I succeed. Always will I take another step. If that is of no avail I will take another, and yet another. In truth, one step at a time is not too difficult.... I know that small attempts, repeated, will complete any undertaking."—Og Mandino

Time for us to talk Part One

Now that I am back it is time that we talk about a few things in the news. Since I have so much to say I have to make this evening's blog a two-parter. Sanford, Florida is our country's newest hot spot, all because of the senseless death of a young teenage boy.  
My sympathy to the Martin family on their loss. It is a tragedy to lose a young man with so much of life still in front of him. 

There are a few names that stick in my head when I heard the news. Emmett Till, Yusef Hawkins, Gavin Cato and now Trayvon Martin. These are the names not of martyrs but of victims of senseless deaths and the justice that was and is still an uphill climb. Forever the names of these young men will be another stone on the wall of racism that  still exists in America.


On a Tuesday night in November 2008 this country took a step forward, and in the excitement of it all I heard what I referred to as "crazy talk". People were talking and acting as if racism had ended in that instant when we elected Barack Obama as President.


It was insane not to say it, but to believe it. If you don't agree with me it was made more evident when the Tea Party movement began. It was an immediate response to the new President. First protesting his legitimacy of his birth and the caricatures of his portrait depicting that of a monkey. If we truly had healed from racism we would debate and protest without the need to degrade one's heritage.

There was a movie that had one line, perhaps the only decent line Matthew McConaughey has ever given, and it was when his character was defending his client in a TIME TO KILL. After describing the heinous act committed to his client's child he asked the jury this; "Now imagine if that little girl was white".


I will never know what it is to be a Black man in America, but I can tell you as a Black woman who has been married to both a White man at one time and now a Black man, I see the differences. The difference in how women on an elevator will react, people on the street may behave at times and how I as their partner am viewed through the eyes of some of society.


We need to move on, it is not just a question of Florida's Law of Stand Your Ground, it had been established in the 9-1-1 call there was no stand when the police told George Zimmerman to sit still and he chased. It was a case of profiling done by one man of a young man with a bag of Skittles and an Arizona Ice Tea wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Time maybe for us to STAND OUR GROUND against racism and profiling. In support of the Martin family I am cancelling my vacation to Disney World and will NOT give the state of Florida my dollars in their tourism pockets until something is done to give Trayvon Martin JUSTICE.


Of course I will leave you with a quote;
"Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away, and that in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty"~Martin Luther King, Jr.

and one more

"There is no Black race or White race, there is only one, the HUMAN RACE and when the rest of the world realizes that, we will live in a better place."~C.C. Benjamin

Back after a LONG hiatus

Surprise! I am back after a LONG hiatus from my blog. The reason for my absence is a simple one. I was living the life of Limemny Snicketts, in other words a series of unfortunate events. The only good thing is that the majority of it was happening around me, rather than to me.

As the holidays were fast approaching, my little one made a few trips to the hospital due to asthma attacks and double pneumonia. For a kid with asthma nothing is worse, so my attention was diverted to priorities at home. Then my eldest turned 18! Struggling through college applications and getting nervous about her upcoming future causing for great emotional turmoil at home, but just as we begin to deal with that another problem. My mother's best friend, a woman I introduced her to and known for over 30 years died. Tragically she died before the holidays and the grief is still with us. 

What I can say is that I have learned much from her and her death. Susannah Chiarini was the type of woman who you either loved or hated. She spoke her mind and never minced words. The friends that she made however, knew her and her brashness, harsh words and understood that no matter what she said it was never done out of malice. She lived her life with a passion for truth. What my mom remembers most is how when they were together, she never left my mom without telling her how she valued their friendship. 

What I am grateful for is how the love she had for my mom was transferred to her kids, making me a beneficiary of another great, stubborn at times nagging mom to rely on in my hour of need. When I had my first crisis that led to my MS diagnosis she was there to care for my child while I was in the hospital. 

A week before her fatal car crash, I had an opportunity to talk with her on the phone. Susannah was checking in on me since my family was away in Aruba. She wanted me to know she was there, and if I needed anything, she and Nico were only a phone call away. We talked for over an hour, gossiping and laughing and I thanked her before we hung up.

Now that things have calmed down I am able to reflect. I came to many realizations. The most morbid, yet accurate one is that everyone we know will die. I know morbid right? It is, to be cliche, the circle of life. It is what we are all guaranteed at birth. The moment we take that first breath of air, that first gasp into life, we will also take a last. Thing is we don't know when that moment will happen. So the lesson, cherish each breath in between.

Another lesson I learned is that with each breath, remember you are here for a purpose and are duty bound to find that reason. Duty bound because to live a life without purpose is not to live. Find your passion, find your gift and have faith in yourself. 

If you read this blog I hope that you take away the lessons and learn or at least take heed to my words. We do not get a second chance, we have only one life to live. It is up to us to live it and when I say live I mean LIVE. Remember it will count as long as you make it count. I know I am!

With gusto I took my cue and began to write as much as possible. I am proud to say that I have many chapters under my belt and I love how it is turning out. Soon it will be complete and then I will be on the hunt to find an agent and a publisher. My purpose is to write, and to write a book that everyone will want to read. Hopefully I will also inspire another writer to create a novel.

Now you know I can't leave without giving you a quote so here are a few to chew on; 

"Don't be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin."~ Grace Hansen

"A bird does not sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song."~Chinese proverb