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.