In the Face of 50.

Diary of a Mad Black Teacher - entry, Jan 2017

LET ME OFF THIS PLANTATION ALREADY! I want to scream it down the hallway.  I think the pressure of how bad 2016 has been, is taking a toll on me now.  A fresh new perspective is something I'm craving and 2017 has some possibilities for awesome. But I don't want to put any additional pressure on the year for delivering wonderful.  50 years old in 6 months. Wow! 50 years on this planet.  Not bad. I never really had any thoughts, when I was younger, that would shape what getting older would look like for me. I never imagined myself 50 when I was younger:

20s - The Bulletproof Years - I felt I could do anything, no consequences, naive and shortsighted, adventurous and bold, in the moment, impulsive, no plan, seat of my pants, reactions, impressed by minimalism, socially influenced, parrot, follower, voiceless.

30s - DISCOVERY / WHO AM I - I felt lost, I had no identity, a changing identity, no professional goals or profession, Battled depression because the life I had was not the life I planned in my head or on paper,  Reinventing what had not been invented, Faking it. FINDING my own voice and a facility for the transformation of my world even undistinguished as such.

40s - PURPOSE, FILLED - I am 3Dreads and a Baldhead. Discovery of my sexy, Public me and Private me, Profession and Professional, Vision and Living it - I am empowerment through Laughter, Leader sought by others, Visit to the Motherland, the roots of Wisdom, Opportunities Broker, BYCD, BeMore Academy, Facilitator of the International Black Summit, I am somebody to other somebodies, a small mini-series of highlights, Human Library, broader than Black community, A Black President, Living Life Like It's Golden, comfort greeted by discomfort, losses and gains, awesome and awful, Hurt, Upset, Surgery, Disconnect, Withdrawal, HIDE, Womancave, Homeownership, good things come from shit, the practice for the 'Don't Give a Shit Years'.

50s - 'Don't Give a Shit Years' Officially start June 30th, 9:30pm, 2017 - DGASY is code for a refusal to rent any space in my head for what others think about me. A rejection of my Looking Glass Self. A freedom to try new things and have new experiences. Reinvent myself for the version of me I am now. I'm the me I wished I could be when I figured out the me was in Me.

June 30th, 2017
The truth is, I don't know what my 50s will bring.  I am clearer than ever that I am simple but complicated.  There are simple things that make me happy and complicated things that make me sad. I have had 50 years of blessings, brought to me by a life that has been touched in so many ways, with lessons I can stand on and move forward from.  I've left it all on the floor and now I'm ready for this version of my life.  There are so many parts that are different while so much is the same about who I am.  At my core, I am a true child of the moon with colonial training and a rebellious spirit. I've gotten it wrong so many times just so I can have that incredible moment when I've gotten it right for me and my communities.  Curiosity hasn't killed my nine lives yet so I'll continue to trust in its guidance.  Inside of the chaos, I've always found laughter or laughter has found me. And knowing that, makes me really happy because as long as I have that, I have everything I need.

Why? Why? Why?

Last Monday morning, while lying in bed, I heard this noise that sounded like scratching - outside, just on the corner of the house. The next day,  I heard it again while I was getting dressed for work. I banged on the wall and that didn't seem to stop it. When I went outside, I found the culprit - a squirrel is scratching away at something way up where the phone line strings across from the pole to the house. And s/he is perched up there looking at my le like, "What?" It took 5 snowballs pelt at his/her ass. Hit square in the noggin with the 5th. Repeat that process every day since. This morning, guerrilla warfare start with me and this fucker. Went to the kitchen, got a handful of ice cubes, spare bedroom window. Pelt some ice cubes at his/her rass while hanging out the window. WTF is going on? The animal kingdom gwan mad. This squirrel doh know it got Guyanese people living here? We ain't frighten fi curry rassoul! It's freak'n 10:30 in the morning. Why am I at war with a fuck'n squirrel?

"I am my ancestors' wildest dreams" and I'm Black every month! 


Sent with Love and Hugs from my CrackBerry 10 device.

The Mystery of the Lost 2nd Pair of Black Pants - a short story

For what seems like more than a year now, we've had a mystery at my home - the mystery of the lost 2nd pair of Black pants. 

I am aware there were actually two pairs of pants. That's not fake news. I remember distinctly when the owner of the first pair came home claiming to love them so much she bought two. Life was good and then, just like that, the pants disappeared. 

We're they abducted? Kidnapped? Squirrel nation was my #1 suspect, in revenge for trying to poison them? 

Time and resources spent looking for these pants stopped short of putting an ad in the local newspaper. The search was called off and like Air Malaysia, the pants were assumed lost forever. 

Until last night. I found the pants and sports fans, I can tell you with confidence, we was never finding those things on our own. Martin Luther King Jr helped find the pants! 

The pants are at home resting comfortably. They declined interview requests and asked for some privacy. The pants have no intention of visiting the white house, in protest of Tangerine in Chief!  

"Part of Privilege is the ability to ignore Truths you do not want to face." - Deborah Peterson Small 

Sent with Love  from my CrackBerry 10 device.