Akala – #forthewin

Screenshot from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atfVUgyEIOI&feature=youtu.be

I do not have words to describe the pleasure I had listening to this interview.  This young man is AMAZING!  So, so, so articulate.  Once again, my little brother turned me on to something fantastic.  Thank you, Maxwell.  🙂

Akala talks about race relations in the UK, focusing on experiences of West Indians (he says Caribbeans – I hate that term :-D) who migrated to England, and their children’s experiences. There’s also a dash of the “myth of meritocracy” thrown in for additional flavor.  The story resonated heavily with me – myself a child of West Indian parents who migrated to the US.  But the power in his words is not that he discusses racism against blacks; it’s how he shows the oppression of those in power toward those WITHOUT power, regardless of skin color.

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You Said What?

When I was about eight or nine years old, some family friends visited us. The son was a few years older than I – he might have about 12 or 13. We were playing, and then he asked me to go into the bathroom so we could play some more. When we got there, he proceeded to pull down his pants and attempted to get his penis into my vagina. I was totally confused about what was happening, and more than a little scared.

We heard my mom calling for us, and he told me that he would go out of the bathroom first and then I should follow after and pretend as if nothing happened. I did.

I didn’t tell my mom. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell anyone until I told Vaughn. I can’t remember if we were married or not at the time I told him, but I would have been about 27 or 28 at the time.

Wait a Minute! There *Are* Good Cops!

Source: GoFundMe

Today’s post is simply me reposting a feel good story I received from The Daily GOOD.  It’s a reminder that not all cops are bad.  Let’s find the good ones and support them.

Acclaimed rapper The Game made headlines last week when he joined Snoop Dogg for a peaceful protest march in Los Angeles that was designed to help foster better communications between the black community and the Los Angeles Police Department. But his latest move might be even more historic.

Logic & Reason: 1; Hashtags: 0

Source: Gustavo Frazao | dreamstime.com

After Tamir Rice was killed in Ohio, social media exploded with anger about the killing, as it explodes after every police shooting. In response, Governor John Kasich created committees to research police/community relations.  This led to the creation of new “use of excessive force” standards for the state of Ohio.  Fantastic, right? Not so much.

Here’s What I’m Gonna Do About Cops Killing Black People

I hope we have vented and cried about how upset we are about the recent shootings in Baton Rouge and Minnesota, and we’re now ready to DO something about it. Hashtags are not us doing something.

I heard Eric Garner’s mother make a powerful statement the day after the shooting:

“This [shooting of citizens by the police] is not a hashtag to me. This is my life. I will never see my son again.”

(I liberally paraphrased her, but you can find the actual quote if you Google it).

We can’t just hashtag our lives away. We have to DO something! So here’s what I do and will do.

Mr. Baker – Don’t Let the Cops Kill My Sons

source:  www.rushernbaker.com

July 8, 2016

Rushern Baker
County Executive, Prince George’s County
14741 Governor Oden Bowie Drive
Upper Marlboro, MD 20772

Dear Mr. Baker,

My name is Melissa Andrews. I live in the Perrywood community in Upper Marlboro. I have two sons, ages 8 and 5. The recent shooting of Alton Sterling has prompted me to write you.

My family has no plans to move from Prince George’s County. That means that my sons will grow up here. They will learn to drive here. Their first encounter with the police will most likely be in this county – a county that is still trying to overcome a reputation that includes a brutal police force. I have to tell you that I am terrified that my sons could be shot and killed during a stop with the police.

I Might Be Ugly, But I’m Blessed

Yesterday at church the pastor’s sermon title was today’s blog topic. It’s something I never thought I’d hear discussed in church – the hurt that unattractive people feel when their looks are made fun of.

As someone who experienced quite a bit of that during high school – that time when we really start noticing that looks matter – it brought back some painful memories. But it also reminded me, as he said, how blessed I am. 

Should I Let You Call Me Nigger?

politicalgraffiti.files.wordpress.com

This weekend, while a friend of mine was preaching at a black history event at a mostly white university, students on social media were making racial comments about him in particular and blacks in general.

 

The Adventist social media blogosphere was awash with comments about the incident; many called for the school to stop students from using Yik Yak and to get Yik Yak to identify the students in question so they could be “punished”.

Be Good to Megan

image from farm8.staticflickr.com

So of course I had no idea that Megan Goode was embroiled at the center of a modesty scandal.  For the most part – I pay celebrities no mind.  They don’t mind me either, so I think it’s fair.  🙂  My cousins, as they usually do, have enlightened me.  I only have 250 words, so here’s what I’ll say on the subject.

I Am Not My Hair

from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Am_Not_My_Hair

I am reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah and am loving it. However, I just got annoyed. (Small spoiler here, but won’t ruin the book).

Ifemela has just cut off her hair because her friend advised her to get rid of her relaxer. Ifem isn’t quite sure that she likes her new boy-cut Afro, and so her friend sends her to happilykinkynappy.com* where she can find a supportive community of women who are doing natural hair. This would be wonderful, EXCEPT for the fact that these women are deriding other women who have chosen to keep their hair relaxed.

What??? This is the thing that BUGS me about women. We must ALWAYS be fighting amongst ourselves.