Attitude of Gratitude: Ten Reasons Why I AM GRATEFUL To Be Born A Black Girl

1. Scientifically speaking, we were the first chicas on the planet.  Straight up. 

Those mama jokes aren't so funny once you realize that my Bigmama  was yours and  that you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her.... Run tell that. 

2. We are brilliant. We can read you, write you, tell all about you... effortlessly.

3.  We are naturally beautiful and we have style.  

Even though it can be difficult finding our faces on the cover of Vogue (and next to your favorite rapper), we are trendsetters. Give us needle and thread, and we'll design a dress for the Queen or give you the most amazing hairstyle. 

4. The many colors and richness of our skin. Our wonderful hair.

5. We are resilient. 

Damn, they've tried to break our backs and spirits, but  it feels like somewhere in our DNA there's music that you can't stop grooving to.

6.  People love us. No really, they do. 

From young white boys to great grandparents, we are always being 'imitated'.  Of course, they usually get it all wrong, but I guess some of it is flattering. Folks are SO inspired by our swag and spirit. 

7. The switch.  The strut. The shake. The wobble. 

8. We can make twenty dollars stretch like the Nile. From food to decorations, books to outfits and every thing in between. We got you.

9. Our optimism. 
Despite common beliefs and all that we've been through, there's lots of research that indicates that Black girls, when compared to their white counterparts, have higher self esteem. Although, I'd love to see a world where girls of all races know their power,  I am especially proud to be from the group that sees the glass as half full.

10. Our hearts.
We love you, even when you're hurting us. 
We pray for our enemies and abusers.

A black girl can will have a dollar to our names, be running on empty- several blocks from the gas station, see someone who needs change or a ride, and more often than not,  will give it to them without asking for anything in return. If that aint God, I don't know what is!

CELEBRATE!

The news will turn strong women into cry babies.

Shot in the face
For being
black
brown
woman
helpless

white men
with chocolate
chips on their shoulders
are the real terrorist.

black men
with broken shoulders
are too.

Why do they
love/enjoy/ get away with
hurting us so?

Happy Veterans Day? Black Women and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder

For the past year, I've had the privilege of working as a guest artist with the Carpetbag Theatre on Linda Paris-Bailey's play, Speed Killed My Cousin, directed by Andrea Assaf. Speed is a multi-discipline work rooted in the story of an African-American, female combat soldier and her struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder after returning home from Iraq. The central character, a third generation soldier, courts death by vehicular suicide.

Before taking on the lead role of Debra, I had limited knowledge about the experiences of women in the military and I didn't know the working definition of PTSD, even though I had experienced it after my only brother was murdered in 2007.

The National Institute of Mental Health offers the following explanation of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder: 

"...People who have PTSD may feel stressed or frightened even when they're no longer in danger.  PTSD develops after a terrifying ordeal that involved physical harm or the threat of physical harm. The person who develops PTSD may have been the one who was harmed, the harm may have happened to a loved one, or the persona may have witnessed a harmful event that happened to loved ones or stranger. PTSD was first brought to public attention in relation to war veterans, but it can result from a variety of traumatic incidents, such as mugging, rape, torture, being kidnapped or held captive, child abuse, car accidents, train wrecks  plane crashes, bombings, or natural disasters such as floods or earthquakes."

This necessary work of art, has opened my eyes in ways that I never could have imagined. CBT's commitment to giving artistic voice to issues and dreams of people who have been silenced by racism, sexism, homophobia, etc., has carried this work from Knoxville to Miami, North Carolina to Tampa, and soon the great city of New Orleans. But we don't just show up and perform. Each stop on the tour, we conduct story circles with some of America's bravest people, veterans with PTSD. 

While in Tampa last month, I met two African-American mothers who are survivors of wars here and abroad. Their stories, like so many others, inspire me to continue living truthfully on stage because dammit..there are women who will never get recognized and/or the treatment they need and deserve.

Studies suggest that Black Women in combat zones continue to experience higher rates of PTSD due to assaults that are never reported: READ MORE ABOUT THAT HERE. This is yet another example of why I will raise the Black Girl Banner until I leave this planet. 

BLACK GIRLS ROCK and we also suffer from anxiety and depression. We DESERVE Love and to feel safe...ALWAYS!

On this Veteran's Day, let us remember the men and women who took the vow to protect and serve this great country. I am especially proud of my oldest nephew, Keevondrick Womack (K.T.), who is now an Airmen!  

And let us also remember the countless others who do not feel like they've been protected by their country or countrymen, and are suffering every day because of this.

Resources:
http://www.ptsd.va.gov/
http://veteranscrisisline.net/

Dallas, we have a problem.

Being a black woman in Dallas, Texas, is downright scary these days.  As the nation prepares for the 50th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy, many of our mothers, daughters, sisters and friends are being attacked on all fronts.

In addition to the Crime Watch Captain who terrorized women for months and doesn't feel guilty about it:  No means no, even if she's a "prostitute",  there's the case of Donald Maiden (DJ), the 8 year old boy shot in the face by a racist imp: Post Racial America...Not.
Donations are being accepted for his medical care. 

During a community rally held last weekend,  I was able to meet  DJ's mama, grandma and sister, who exhibited such grace and strength despite this horrible act of violence. To add insult to injury, the culprit has been charged with "injury to a child" instead of Attempted Murder, which could give him a harsher sentence.

One of the things I love most about being a black woman is our ability to make lemonade when there is no sugar. We are filled with unconditional love, especially for our boys and men, and are able to find sweetness even in the most sour circumstances. Contrary to what the media projects, we are good...and my god, do we know how to show restraint!

However, our ability to 'bear it' has greatly contributed to this grim statistic coming out of Dallas: Black women more likely to die from domestic violence  and this should make us all pause and reflect.

Despite the stereotype of the "Strong Black Woman", we are three times more likely to die at the hands of a partner or ex-partner? What are these men trying to prove?  What are we?

Don't let shame kill you.  If you or someone you know is hurting, please get help.

Here's a list of numbers you can call. http://www.dallasdvresources.org/phone.php

You are worthy.

kNOw RAPE- Street Theater Performance in response to sexual attacks in South Dallas

On Saturday, September 14 at Noon, we gathered in front of The Forest Theatre to express our outrage over The Irony: Crime Watch Captain is the Rapist

We held our own protest and performed guerrilla theatre style to an interested and diverse crowd. TheaterJones: Pecola Project Reacts To Violence Against Women

It was interactive and truly powerful. There was blank paper and markers for the people in the community to write their own messages. The sister below, left her bike at the store and joined us. We're glad she did.

Enjoy these snapshots provided by Ernest McMillan & Harold Steward

Why Pecola?

Toni Morrison writes like a woman who has braided God's hair. After all, not everyone would be trusted with her vision and the ability to shame the devil like she can.

When I first read her novel, The Bluest Eye, I wanted to write and cry at the same time.

The main character, Pecola Breedlove, is a young, black girl with dark skin and a bad case of low self esteem. Hurt people, hurt her on so many different levels, and she was forced to spend her entire life wishing her blackness away. In her brown eyes, beauty came only in the form of blue eyes and white skin.

This is an all too familiar story. Colonization and years of white dominance has created many Pecola's throughout this world.

With The Pecola Project, I'd like to change that and I'm collaborating with a diverse group of beautiful and talented women who are interested in doing the same. Using the arts (especially, theater and the written word) as a catalyst for social change, We are determined to create provocative work that places our needs front and center.

We will hit the block (literally) engaging the community around topics such as sexual violence, Booty Shots-The Remix, the color complex, misrepresentation in the media, and any other thing we (and/or the community) feel needs to be highlighted.

By showing up in all our blackness (we range from high yella to deep blue undertones) & wearing the hair that God gave us (and sometimes not), we will be representing for the girls and women who have been ignored, devalued, and sometimes silenced.

We are also representing for the ones who know that they are amazing and will pass that goodness on to their children and/or the next generation of women warriors.

There's much work to be done, yet we honor and give thanks for the women in our communities who have been working long before we got here.

Now it's our turn.

We Are Not Afraid. The Street Is Our Pulpit.