Tuesday, October 4, 2016

I promise this is directed at no one in particular...

I promise this is directed at no one in particular; rather, I have several friends who I hope will read this.  As the mother of a half-black son and a firm believer that we should all be treated the same regardless of skin color, this is important to me.  As my sweet child ages and ventures out into the world more and more without me, I feel the fear of him being targeted growing every day.

To anyone who disagrees with peaceful protests, I will leave you with this quote from MLK himself:

"Over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. ... who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.”
— Martin Luther King Jr., “Letter From Birmingham Jail,” 1963


Kate Riffle Roper's text pasted here in case her post becomes unavailable:

"As a white mother of two black children, three white children, who all have a white father, I have something to say.

Racism exists. It is real and tangible. And it is everywhere, all the time.

When I brought my boys home they were the cutest, sweetest babies ever. Wherever we went, people greeted us with charm and enthusiasm. Well, not all people and not everywhere. But, to me, they were the “wacko” exceptions. I thought to myself, “Get over it.”

Now my boys look like teenagers. Black teenagers. They are 13. Let me ask you these questions. Do store personnel follow your children when they are picking out their Gatorade flavors? They didn’t follow my white kids.  Do coffee shop employees interrogate your children about the credit card they are using to pay while you are in the bathroom? They didn’t interrogate my white kids.  When your kids trick-or-treat in, dressed as a Ninja and a Clown, do they get asked who they are with and where they live, door after door? My white kids didn’t get asked.  Do your kids get pulled out of the TSA line time and again for additional screening? My white kids didn’t. Do your kids get treated one way when they are standing alone but get treated a completely different way when you walk up? I mean a completely different way. My white kids didn’t. Do shoe sales people ask if your kids’ feet are clean before sizing them for shoes? No one asked me that with my white kids. Do complete strangers ask to touch your child’s hair? Or ask about their penis size? Or ask if they are “from druggies”? No one did this with my white kids.

Did you tell your kids not to fight back because they will seen as aggressive if they stand up for themselves? Have you had to honestly discuss with your husband whether you should take your children to the police station to introduce them to the officers so they would know your children are legitimate members of your community? Have you had to talk to your children about EXACTLY what to say and not to say to an officer? Have you had to tell your children that the objective of any encounter with police, or security in any form, is to stay alive? It never occurred to me to have these conversations with my white children. In fact, it never occurred to me for myself either.

There is no question that my boys have been cloaked in my protection when they were small. What I did not realize until now is that the cloak I was offering them was identification with my whiteness. As they grow independent, they step out from my cloak and lose that protection. The world sees “them” differently. It is sweet when they are adopted little black boys so graciously taken in by this nice white family. But when they are real people? Well, it is not the same. And they still look like little boys. What happens to them when they look like the strong, proud black men I am raising?

The reason why the phrase All Lives Matter is offensive to black people is because it isn’t true. Right now, in America, my black children are treated differently than my white children. So when you say All Lives Matter as a response to the phrase Black Lives Matter you are completely dismissing the near daily experience of racism for those with pigment in their skin, curl in their hair and broadness of their nose.

I am posting this so you can see the reality I have witnessed and experienced, because, frankly, I didn’t believe it was true until I saw it up close, directed at two souls I love, over and over again. So, please, use this post as a pair of glasses to see the racism that surrounds you. Then we can actually make progress toward all lives being valued and cherished."

I just got poked on Facebook.

I just got poked on Facebook.  I totally forgot that was a thing because I quit responding to them (from the looks of my poke list) about 4 years ago.

Sorry, friends.  If I poke you back you're just gonna poke me again.  I figured out how that works.  😛  I apologize for being too old and crotchety to play along, but this is who I am now. 😂😂😂

Monday, October 3, 2016

My mom, y'all.

My mom, y'all. The most gleeful zombie I've ever seen. I love this photo!



I am really not ready for this day. 😕

I am really not ready for this day.  😕  I'm so tired and Mondays are LOOONG.  Class, then tutoring for 4 hours, then class again (in Gadsden).  At least I don't have any tests today.  That's something.

I didn't get as far as I wanted to on my Cal homework this weekend, but I did spend some quality time with Shaun on Saturday, and also caught up with some friends yesterday and did some nails.  No complaints there.  🙂

I just didn't get as much sleep as I needed last night.  Boo.  I will probably crash as soon as I get home today.  It's time to get this day started, I suppose.  ❤

Saturday, October 1, 2016

OxfordFest is today...

OxfordFest is today, so I imagine that most of my local friends are going to be out and about.  It's too "sunshine" and also too "people" out for me, so I'm staying in.  😛😃  Gonna curl up on the couch with some Calculus, and maybe even paint my nubs later (I cut my nails totally off last weekend.  They were too pitiful.  It was a mercy killing).  😂😂😂

Happy first of October, friends!  The cold weather is going to kill my bones, but it's easier to bundle up than to swelter to death in the heat.  I'm so ready for fall!  😃

Thursday, September 29, 2016

I've been a good girl today.

I've been a good girl today.  I came home from work, studied some, and then cleaned my room.  Go me!

It's been a weird week of "bad headache + nausea" days interspersed with "actually ok" days.  I don't know what that's about, but today I didn't feel bad and I am thankful for that.  I think I've been pretty productive, actually.  So that's nice.

I still have more Cal homework, as well as some Psychology to do, but tomorrow is another day.  I think I've tired myself out and I'm ready to wind down.

I hope everyone's week is going well.  I, for one, am glad that tomorrow is Friday.  🙂

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Well. Made a 93 on my Calculus test.

Well. Made a 93 on my Calculus test. Glad it's an A. Sad it's a low A. LOL But I'll live. 😀