Not My President, Not My America

The first couple of days, I was stunned. I was hurt and I was disgusted. I totally underestimated the true amount of racism and misogyny present in the hearts of Americans and I had thought that somehow this candidate would not be elected.

I saw the amount of hate and vitriol aimed at the liberal candidate and I could not envision that that many people had been swayed and actually believed all the lies that had been perpetrated against her. I thought people were smarter than that but one by one, they showed me that they weren’t.

Now I’m just angry. If I read one more post saying they won’t unfriend someone on Facebook because of how they voted; one more saying we should now all accept the results quietly and get along; one more saying how disappointed they are that people are protesting I just might scream.

What kind of sanctimonious hypocritical mealy-mouthed unrealistic foolishness is this?? Do you really understand why people like me are so angry and hurt?

Let’s analyze this.

This candidate ran on a platform of racism, misogyny, xenophobia – oh, yes the big words. Let’s say it like he would – this campaign was based on hate and anger and fear.

He saw that most white people are racist at the root despite what they may say and think and he played on that. Did you ever look at any of those recordings of his rallies where his supporters were openly calling people nigger, were assaulting people of color and advocating for a race war? Were you disappointed then? Did you speak up?

I didn’t think so.

You want a wall, don’t you? You want Muslim people deported and banned. You want immigrants to leave our shores.  Let’s clarify – just the immigrants who aren’t white. The rest can stay, right? Uh huh.

You hate Mexicans and want them to leave – even if it means splitting up their families.

You don’t care that black people are being killed in record numbers by nervous cops who should never have been given a gun in the first place. It didn’t matter when the CIA said that there were lots of white supremacists joining police departments all over the country and warned that it would be a problem. It didn’t matter to you that they wanted the right to beat and shoot us on sight, for no good reason except that they could. You didn't understand that Officer Bob was your friend and not ours. He was afraid of us and killed us in his fear. But you sympathized with him, gave him a paid vacation and vilified us as habitual lawbreakers and criminals. Thugs, you called us. You ignored our fear and our protests. 

No, you wanted us to obey at all times and not run from them even though we were terrified.  

All the years we tried to tell you that we were suffering from racism, you responded with amazement.

“Now? In 2016? How is this still happening?”

You tried to tell us it was our imagination, that we were being too sensitive, that we overreacted….basically that it was all our fault. You tried to explain that he was basically a good guy and that racist joke he told was all in fun.

You didn’t believe us.

You were all up in your feelings about abortion and morality and couldn’t support her. While you are damning a woman’s right to choose, did you do anything to help a woman in distress about pregnancy? Did you help a poor family struggling? Did you adopt any of the thousands of unwanted children in foster care? Did you even donate a dime to help foster children?

No. You supported laws that denied families in distress funding from the government. You didn’t want them to get assistance or food stamps or WIC to support that baby your beliefs demanded she have even when she knew she couldn’t support that child.

You knew she couldn’t afford childcare but you didn’t care. You didn’t think she deserved a dime. You didn’t want to help her. You didn’t even want her to have a living wage after she got the job you insisted she get.

Did you care about the millions of families living in poverty? No.

You’re ok, right?

Hypocrites.

You believed all the lies about the one candidate who wanted to help women and poor families. She fought for 30 years to help all the while facing the most onerous hatred anyone has ever had to deal with. She didn’t quit. She stood tall and took it. You hated her while turning a blind eye to the truths about him.

You thought your whiteness should have given you the keys to the kingdom and when the economy tanked you blamed us. Did you stop and think that the guy who owned the company where you worked was the one to blame?

He decided that you weren’t worth the salary he was paying you and realized he could cut corners if he moved to another country where he could pay his employees a fraction of what he paid you.

Were you mad at him?

What about the one who saw a chance to make even more money if he created a company helping American companies move to other countries, cutting their costs and helping them to make more money for the CEO’s.

No, you weren’t mad at him. You elected him governor of Illinois.

You blamed brown people for your loss of jobs. You blamed affirmative action. You didn’t understand that we all deserve a piece of that pie. You didn’t care. You saw every advance by a person of color as taking something from you and your hate simmered. We all wanted the same thing – a decent living for us and our families but you demonized us to make you feel better for your bitter feelings towards us.

Now you want us to give him the respect you denied the past administration. Leaders of the Republican party stood together the night President Obama was elected and conspired to ensure he only had one term and that they were going to obstruct everything he tried to do. They shut the government down. Where was your outrage then?

If you had so much respect for the country and how it works, you should have been enraged. You should have wanted those folks gone.

No. You voted them in office again so they could keep obstructing.

Were you outraged at the disrespect he got in office? Did you cringe when he was called a liar during the State of the Union address or did you silently applaud the classless moron who did it? You know you wished you were that brave, didn’t you? Admit it.

And when all this birther nonsense came up, were you incensed that someone would do this to the President? You know you weren’t. You started to wonder yourself, didn’t you?

You know you passed some of those memes and insults against him and his family in your email and probably posted a few on Facebook. You laughed. You thought it was funny and when there was pushback, you cried out, it was just a joke!

We were being too sensitive. Again.

Now that you have elected a racist, misogynist, proven liar with no experience and with barely a 5^th grade vocabulary to office, you want us to treat him with respect and dignity. The same respect and dignity you denied President Obama for 8 years.

You see, it isn’t that we hate him so much though most of us do. It’s that you elected him knowing how he was and you shared his feelings. He speaks his mind, you said. He said what you didn’t have the nerve to say is what you meant.

There were several incidents of white people emboldened by his hateful rhetoric who thought they could walk right up to us and insult and attack us. They said that if he was elected they could get rid of us. They threatened us if he didn’t win. They walked around with guns trying to intimidate us. Did you care? You probably didn’t even see the videos.

“I don’t like stuff like that! It’s probably staged!” you said as you hurriedly passed by it.

You wished the black people you knew were not so focused on race and that we could all just laugh together at the videos of what your cats were doing. This other stuff just bothered you and you didn’t want to deal with it.

You didn’t have to.

We do. It’s part of our reality.

You thought our protests against police brutality were wrong and that we should be grateful we were allowed to live and work here in this country that hated us so much that they passed laws to make sure we couldn’t live where we wanted, work where we wanted, love who we wanted and do what we wanted.

Oh, you fussed, that was a long time ago! It’s not like that anymore. Things have changed.

Yes, there has been some movement but not enough and this is true for women as well as people of color. We remain woefully backwards in those areas.

We are angry. We are hurt. We are disappointed. You elected a man who stands for everything we don’t.

What about the peaceful Muslims who live here? My brother is a Muslim and he lives in the South. I fear for him every day.

What about the gay people who only want to live in peace together as a family?

What about the poor families who struggle to survive on a minimum wage job?

What about the senior citizens who have to live on the pittance of Social Security each month?

What about the hungry families?

What about people who are homeless because there is practically no affordable housing? How is a family living on $7 a hour supposed to pay the skyrocketing rents these days?

The gentrification that is driving poor people from their homes so that rich white people can build luxury apartments with their Starbucks and Trader Joe’s next door?

What about the gutting of the Civil Rights Act that allowed gerrymandering and closing of driver license offices so that people of color would have a harder time getting the identification so that they could vote? Or the polling places closed so that it would be harder for them to even get to vote?

All these things are what we are concerned about and this new president doesn’t give a damn about. And what hurts is that all you that voted for him apparently don’t care either. Your vote for him was an affirmation of his policies and let us all know where you stand with us.

Some of you want to act shocked that we feel this way. You don’t want to hear this. You want us to be submissive and not speak of our pain and hurt.

Our grandparents had to do that. They feared lynching and loss of their livelihood and more if they spoke up. We don’t fear that. We are tired of being gracious and forgiving. We are going to give this man the same respect you gave President Obama. You just have to deal with it.

You don’t want to lose friends? You have. And unless you understood the things your black and brown and gay friends feared, you weren’t really their friends anyway.

You want us to give him a chance? When he already let us know what he thinks of us and what he wants to do?

They are already salivating at finally being able to dismantle a law that granted insurance to millions of people. Without it, people will die. I’ll say that again:

PEOPLE WILL DIE.

Do you care? No. You just didn’t want a penny of your money helping someone less fortunate.

And you wonder why we are angry.

We will not lie down and take it anymore. This is the America you voted for. You wanted a change – now you have it.

Enjoy it!

Not My President, Not My America

The first couple of days, I was stunned. I was hurt and I was disgusted. I totally underestimated the true amount of racism and misogyny present in the hearts of Americans and I had thought that somehow this candidate would not be elected.

I saw the amount of hate and vitriol aimed at the liberal candidate and I could not envision that that many people had been swayed and actually believed all the lies that had been perpetrated against her. I thought people were smarter than that but one by one, they showed me that they weren’t.

Now I’m just angry. If I read one more post saying they won’t unfriend someone on Facebook because of how they voted; one more saying we should now all accept the results quietly and get along; one more saying how disappointed they are that people are protesting I just might scream.

What kind of sanctimonious hypocritical mealy-mouthed unrealistic foolishness is this?? Do you really understand why people like me are so angry and hurt?

Let’s analyze this.

This candidate ran on a platform of racism, misogyny, xenophobia – oh, yes the big words. Let’s say it like he would – this campaign was based on hate and anger and fear.

He saw that most white people are racist at the root despite what they may say and think and he played on that. Did you ever look at any of those recordings of his rallies where his supporters were openly calling people nigger, were assaulting people of color and advocating for a race war? Were you disappointed then? Did you speak up?

I didn’t think so.

You want a wall, don’t you? You want Muslim people deported and banned. You want immigrants to leave our shores.  Let’s clarify – just the immigrants who aren’t white. The rest can stay, right? Uh huh.

You hate Mexicans and want them to leave – even if it means splitting up their families.

You don’t care that black people are being killed in record numbers by nervous cops who should never have been given a gun in the first place. It didn’t matter when the CIA said that there were lots of white supremacists joining police departments all over the country and warned that it would be a problem. It didn’t matter to you that they wanted the right to beat and shoot us on sight, for no good reason except that they could. You didn't understand that Officer Bob was your friend and not ours. He was afraid of us and killed us in his fear. But you sympathized with him, gave him a paid vacation and vilified us as habitual lawbreakers and criminals. Thugs, you called us. You ignored our fear and our protests. 

No, you wanted us to obey at all times and not run from them even though we were terrified.  

All the years we tried to tell you that we were suffering from racism, you responded with amazement.

“Now? In 2016? How is this still happening?”

You tried to tell us it was our imagination, that we were being too sensitive, that we overreacted….basically that it was all our fault. You tried to explain that he was basically a good guy and that racist joke he told was all in fun.

You didn’t believe us.

You were all up in your feelings about abortion and morality and couldn’t support her. While you are damning a woman’s right to choose, did you do anything to help a woman in distress about pregnancy? Did you help a poor family struggling? Did you adopt any of the thousands of unwanted children in foster care? Did you even donate a dime to help foster children?

No. You supported laws that denied families in distress funding from the government. You didn’t want them to get assistance or food stamps or WIC to support that baby your beliefs demanded she have even when she knew she couldn’t support that child.

You knew she couldn’t afford childcare but you didn’t care. You didn’t think she deserved a dime. You didn’t want to help her. You didn’t even want her to have a living wage after she got the job you insisted she get.

Did you care about the millions of families living in poverty? No.

You’re ok, right?

Hypocrites.

You believed all the lies about the one candidate who wanted to help women and poor families. She fought for 30 years to help all the while facing the most onerous hatred anyone has ever had to deal with. She didn’t quit. She stood tall and took it. You hated her while turning a blind eye to the truths about him.

You thought your whiteness should have given you the keys to the kingdom and when the economy tanked you blamed us. Did you stop and think that the guy who owned the company where you worked was the one to blame?

He decided that you weren’t worth the salary he was paying you and realized he could cut corners if he moved to another country where he could pay his employees a fraction of what he paid you.

Were you mad at him?

What about the one who saw a chance to make even more money if he created a company helping American companies move to other countries, cutting their costs and helping them to make more money for the CEO’s.

No, you weren’t mad at him. You elected him governor of Illinois.

You blamed brown people for your loss of jobs. You blamed affirmative action. You didn’t understand that we all deserve a piece of that pie. You didn’t care. You saw every advance by a person of color as taking something from you and your hate simmered. We all wanted the same thing – a decent living for us and our families but you demonized us to make you feel better for your bitter feelings towards us.

Now you want us to give him the respect you denied the past administration. Leaders of the Republican party stood together the night President Obama was elected and conspired to ensure he only had one term and that they were going to obstruct everything he tried to do. They shut the government down. Where was your outrage then?

If you had so much respect for the country and how it works, you should have been enraged. You should have wanted those folks gone.

No. You voted them in office again so they could keep obstructing.

Were you outraged at the disrespect he got in office? Did you cringe when he was called a liar during the State of the Union address or did you silently applaud the classless moron who did it? You know you wished you were that brave, didn’t you? Admit it.

And when all this birther nonsense came up, were you incensed that someone would do this to the President? You know you weren’t. You started to wonder yourself, didn’t you?

You know you passed some of those memes and insults against him and his family in your email and probably posted a few on Facebook. You laughed. You thought it was funny and when there was pushback, you cried out, it was just a joke!

We were being too sensitive. Again.

Now that you have elected a racist, misogynist, proven liar with no experience and with barely a 5^th grade vocabulary to office, you want us to treat him with respect and dignity. The same respect and dignity you denied President Obama for 8 years.

You see, it isn’t that we hate him so much though most of us do. It’s that you elected him knowing how he was and you shared his feelings. He speaks his mind, you said. He said what you didn’t have the nerve to say is what you meant.

There were several incidents of white people emboldened by his hateful rhetoric who thought they could walk right up to us and insult and attack us. They said that if he was elected they could get rid of us. They threatened us if he didn’t win. They walked around with guns trying to intimidate us. Did you care? You probably didn’t even see the videos.

“I don’t like stuff like that! It’s probably staged!” you said as you hurriedly passed by it.

You wished the black people you knew were not so focused on race and that we could all just laugh together at the videos of what your cats were doing. This other stuff just bothered you and you didn’t want to deal with it.

You didn’t have to.

We do. It’s part of our reality.

You thought our protests against police brutality were wrong and that we should be grateful we were allowed to live and work here in this country that hated us so much that they passed laws to make sure we couldn’t live where we wanted, work where we wanted, love who we wanted and do what we wanted.

Oh, you fussed, that was a long time ago! It’s not like that anymore. Things have changed.

Yes, there has been some movement but not enough and this is true for women as well as people of color. We remain woefully backwards in those areas.

We are angry. We are hurt. We are disappointed. You elected a man who stands for everything we don’t.

What about the peaceful Muslims who live here? My brother is a Muslim and he lives in the South. I fear for him every day.

What about the gay people who only want to live in peace together as a family?

What about the poor families who struggle to survive on a minimum wage job?

What about the senior citizens who have to live on the pittance of Social Security each month?

What about the hungry families?

What about people who are homeless because there is practically no affordable housing? How is a family living on $7 a hour supposed to pay the skyrocketing rents these days?

The gentrification that is driving poor people from their homes so that rich white people can build luxury apartments with their Starbucks and Trader Joe’s next door?

What about the gutting of the Civil Rights Act that allowed gerrymandering and closing of driver license offices so that people of color would have a harder time getting the identification so that they could vote? Or the polling places closed so that it would be harder for them to even get to vote?

All these things are what we are concerned about and this new president doesn’t give a damn about. And what hurts is that all you that voted for him apparently don’t care either. Your vote for him was an affirmation of his policies and let us all know where you stand with us.

Some of you want to act shocked that we feel this way. You don’t want to hear this. You want us to be submissive and not speak of our pain and hurt.

Our grandparents had to do that. They feared lynching and loss of their livelihood and more if they spoke up. We don’t fear that. We are tired of being gracious and forgiving. We are going to give this man the same respect you gave President Obama. You just have to deal with it.

You don’t want to lose friends? You have. And unless you understood the things your black and brown and gay friends feared, you weren’t really their friends anyway.

You want us to give him a chance? When he already let us know what he thinks of us and what he wants to do?

They are already salivating at finally being able to dismantle a law that granted insurance to millions of people. Without it, people will die. I’ll say that again:

PEOPLE WILL DIE.

Do you care? No. You just didn’t want a penny of your money helping someone less fortunate.

And you wonder why we are angry.

We will not lie down and take it anymore. This is the America you voted for. You wanted a change – now you have it.

Enjoy it!

When I Grow Up

When I was a little girl, I used to lie in bed at night and wonder about a lot of things. I was one of those kids who daydreamed a lot. I thought a lot. I was trying to figure a lot of things out and one of those things was about race. So much didn’t make sense to me. 

I was a child during the Civil Rights struggles. I remember seeing those “White Only” and “Colored” signs. My grandparents lived in the South so I often had to travel down there to visit family. I loved it. The South, that is. I loved the weather and it was so beautiful down there. My family lived in Florida so I got the best of it, I thought.

I’ve lived in the South for a lot of my adult life and I still love it.

We took the bus sometimes, which was a lot of fun for a child.  It was a great trip from Illinois to Florida. There were a couple of times that weren’t fun though.

Once a racist bus driver made my Mom get off a bus in Ohio because she only had a bus ticket for herself, me and one of my brothers.

My other brother was only about 3 and he sat in our laps or in a seat if one was empty. They had told her in Chicago that she didn’t need one for him so she hadn’t bought one. He not only put us off the bus but he told the other driver for the bus we were going to transfer to that he shouldn’t let us on the bus.  She was trying to cheat Greyhound and it was up to him to make it right.

Actually, it was something meaner and nastier, but you get the drift.

So my poor Mom had to call someone back home and get them to wire her money for a ticket and we had to sit in Ohio for hours waiting for it to happen.

And then there was the time in Daytona Beach that my Mom and Aunt Bootsie got off the bus to get us some food.  They had to go to the “Colored” window to order it and could not sit in the restaurant like the white folks. They didn’t want us kids to have to deal with it so they left us on the bus and subjected themselves to the hatefulness they had left the South trying to avoid.

While they were getting the food, a white couple came and sat in our seats. When they asked them to move, they declared they didn’t have to. They were white and they could sit where they wanted. 

Wrong answer.

Mom and Bootsie were not the ones.

And, in fact, neither were the other white riders on the bus who all went after the two old rednecks.  When the bus driver came back, there was all kinds of yelling and cursing going on and when he realized what was what, he told the couple they had to get off the bus.  My family had been in those seats since Chicago and they couldn’t just sit where they wanted.

They called him a nigger lover among other things and wouldn’t get off the bus even though they had moved, so he called the police who came and told the couple they had to go. I recall that they didn’t threaten to arrest them, just told them to get off the bus, which they did.

I later wondered if it had been a black couple sitting where a white couple had been, if they would have been so nice about it. 

Other trips were on the train and in the car. I loved the car trips. I vaguely remember the ones when we couldn’t use the restrooms in the gas stations in the South where we bought gas.  Or we couldn’t eat in the restaurant we had seen billboards for because they didn’t serve black folks. On those trips, Mom cooked lots of food and we had coolers with stuff to drink and that big potty in the trunk so we could squat on the side of the road if we had to. Yeah. Fun, right?

But most trips we were able to go to restaurants and use bathrooms even if we got dirty looks.

But I remember seeing people getting hosed and beaten by cops and seeing them sic dogs on kids like me. I remember hearing that Dr. King had been assaulted in Chicago for protesting. I saw all this on television as I watched with my parents. I can’t even imagine how they must have felt.

I still think about the hate I saw on the faces of the people in Little Rock and Boston who didn’t want their children to go to school with children like me.

And I remember Selma and the March on Washington.

I cried a lot when I saw things like that. I didn’t understand.

Why did people hate people like me because of our skin? Why was that such a lightning rod? Why was it so bad?

It didn’t make any sense to me. It wasn’t like we were given a choice. We just grew up and one day somebody called us a nigger and we didn’t really know what that meant so we asked our parents.

They got that look, that crestfallen, pained look that meant they were going to have to explain all this to us so that we would be prepared to deal with it the rest of our lives.

They had to tell us that we couldn’t expect to do a lot of things or go to a lot of places and that many people just hated us. That word was something bad that they used for us and we would hear it all of our lives.

So we had to grow up knowing we could never trust everyone.  Some people just wanted to hurt us and we had to learn to avoid them. And I have to say that the police were some of those that we could not trust. I know that’s tough for white folks to understand but it’s true.

Ask any black man about his interactions with the police even if he is a fine upstanding citizen. He’s still suffered at the hands of an overzealous and often racist cop. They are NOT always the good guys.

My parents didn’t want us to grow up in a segregated area like they did.  They didn’t want us to be humiliated and despised like they had been so they moved up North so we wouldn’t have to face it. They thought we would have a better life living up North.

When it happened up North you could see how hurt they were. They didn’t want us to grow up in that kind of hate. They had wanted us to live in a better world.

They didn’t know that place only existed in Star Trek. I didn’t either till later on.

But when I lay in bed pondering all these things, I consoled myself by thinking things would get better with the passage of time. People would see that we weren’t bad or deserving of the hate and that we would all kind of get together and fight the hate and have a good life.

I had white friends and black friends and I thought we would all just have fun together. But some of my white friends said they had friends who didn’t like black people. Not many, but a few. And I had black friends who asked me why I had white friends. How could I hang out with crackers. Didn’t I know they hated us?

Wow.

I knew some of my white friends’ parents didn’t like them being friends with black kids. You know when you can’t go to their house but they came to yours. Or when their parents look at you like you grew a third eye when they saw you.

There were lots of little things and I still wondered about them as I grew up. It still didn’t make any sense to me. I knew we were all more like than a lot of people even thought about. I knew I wanted the same things they did. Why did they dislike me for that?

It just seemed so crazy to me. I wanted people to get along and learn to love each other. I knew that if we spent time together we learned that we were pretty much the same and that things could just be cool. I tried hard most of my life to get people to see that. But I had faith in the future and I really believed it would be better.

Now that I am older and wiser, I still lie in bed and wonder the same damn things. Instead of getting better, t seems to have gotten worse. Every day I go online to read numerous stories about people who confront people and call them names because they are different from them. They don’t want to live with them, go to school with them, go to church with them, party with them, date or marry them.

They hate people for being black.

For being Hispanic.

For being Asian.

For being gay.

For being bisexual.

For being transsexual.

For being a Muslim.

For not being Christian.

For being open minded.

For not being open minded.

For being Jewish.

You get the drift.

WHY???   WHY???  Why people???

Why are we still nursing all these hate?

Maybe we haven’t grown up yet. Maybe we never will. I don’t know.  I just know we only have 200 or so more years till Star Trek so we have work to do if we are going to have that brave and beautiful future like Gene Roddenberry saw for us all. We’ve fallen behind.

Way behind.

I don’t have the answers. I wish I did.

I just know I almost get sick these days reading all those articles about so much hate. I read what people post online and I want to weep. I don’t do it much anymore because it is just too painful for me.

I still want to hope. It’s getting harder but I want to believe that things will get better.

Somehow.

Somewhere.

Someday.

The World Without Prince

I didn’t think this day would come. He’s younger than me and he has always lived clean and healthy and full of his faith. I figured he’d be around singing those songs with a devilish smile and still making us feel kinda raunchy no matter how old we all were. He was like that.

I guess I took it for granted that he would be there. I thought I’d be 70 years old still going to Prince concerts even if they were small affairs in clubs. You know, the unhooked kind. I was all right with that. I was all right with almost everything Prince did.

You know, I feel sorry for people who just don’t seem to love or feel music the way I do. I am aghast at these folks who ask why we mourn these musicians so deeply. We didn’t know them, after all, they say. They are just musicians. I just shake my head.

Creative people make the world we live in just that much more tolerable. 

We need to look at the architecture to see where we have come from. I mean we lived in huts and caves in the beginning and now look what we have? Look at the bridges and buildings and be amazed at what we have been able to do to make our planet that much more livable.

Art has brought us more magic than we ever dreamed. We have beautiful soul stirring paintings and sculptures and drawings that we cherish and love through the years. Just go to museums and art galleries and see what we breathe life into that captures our minds and souls.

I think writing and music roll hand in hand a lot. I mean we have lyrics that we will never forget set to music that takes us to another realm of reality. But as a writer, I understand what that really means. It’s not easy to put those words together and make them mean something that everyone can feel as much as you do.

My hat is off to people who can create the music and then find the words to pair with it and make it another entity altogether. That can only be described as magical. When

we have people who can do that, of course we look at them as special. They seem to find just the right words and music to touch our hearts and evoke all sorts of emotions in each of us. That is not an easy thing to do.

When that one musicians finds that place inside you – when they tap those feelings and bring them rippling to the surface – it’s wonderful. It can be painful, it can be joyous, it can be almost orgasmic or it can make you laugh. And the really great thing is hearing that music brings it back to you every time. You can hear a song you loved 30 years ago and still feel the same way when you heard it the first time. It becomes a part of your life, doesn’t it?

Prince was a magician. He was so many things rolled into one that it seemed unreal. I mean he could be funky as all get out, then he could be romantic, he made us get up and dance, he played it like the blues and then turned around and rocked the damn house.

He sang and he danced and he spun around on stage and there were only two other humans that had that same gift. We were lucky enough to have all three of them among us at the same time – the Godfather of Soul, the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, the man who moved like no other – James Brown. 

I think of the T.A.M.I. Show when he hit that stage and folks had never seen anything like him. They didn’t know what to think. Mick Jagger mourned that he had to go on after James Brown. Nobody could dance like James Brown. My man surely had “the good foot.” And he did it to death.

Then we had Michael. You know who I mean. Michael Jackson of the shy smile and the movements that set peoples’ souls afire. Remember the first time you saw him do the Moon Walk? I do. I still watch that video in amazement. Or that lean in “Smooth Criminal.” Lord, yes, he was special.

And there was Prince. Unlike either of the others, he could pick up that guitar and make it talk to you. When he hit the stage in those high heels, he turned you inside out. Wherever he went, we went there too and we loved it and we loved him. We knew him just like he knew us.

These musicians reach down inside themselves and pull up their emotions and their thoughts and feelings and bravely share it with all of us. We know their joy, their pain, their angst, their fears, their hunger and their wonder. We know it cause we feel it too and we wonder how they knew how we were feeling too. They share themselves in a very intimate way and we love them for it. We feel close to them because we know they must feel close to us to touch our souls the way they do. We go to their concerts and we scream and laugh and cry and hold our hearts because we feel that connection more than ever when we see them and we know they feel us too. It is a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?

Prince shared his heart, his soul, his mind and his magic with us and we adored him. We didn’t mind when he got down to that part of us that was kind of nasty and hot and erotic. He was just putting words to how we felt too. So ok, some folks got upset and offended. Most of us knew just what he meant and it was all right with us. I mean, who among us hasn’t looked at someone who set our blood boiling and thought or said, “….you sexy motherfucker.”

You know you did. Don’t lie.

So we took him for granted. We just assumed he would be here with us. I remember he said he had enough music saved to keep us going for years and years and I was satisfied that he would be a part of my life as long as I lived.

Yesterday all that came crashing down. We didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t. I screamed when I read it, but at the same time, I knew it was true. I had been worried since I had heard he had been sick and they had taken him to a hospital in Moline, Illinois. I knew he would never not perform unless something was really wrong and I figured something was. I hoped he would still be there.

This year has been exceptionally unkind. We lost Natalie Cole and David Bowie and Glen Frey and Maurice White really close together. We have been staggering and sad for most of the year. We are losing our musical icons far too quickly this year and we are afraid and angry.

So no, I was not ready to lose Prince. I pulled out the program from the last time I saw him and looked at the pictures. I thought of the one time I was in his presence. I was backstage at the Essence Festival in New Orleans. 

It must have been 2003 or 2004, I’m not sure which year. Anyway, I was walking along with friends and we stopped to talk to someone and I felt the presence of someone looking at me from behind. I turned and there he was, in all his Badness, wearing skin tight black pants and a tank top with a shirt over it.

I am used to being in the presence of musicians – I have in one way or another all my life, so I quickly gathered myself and smiled and said, “Hello Prince, how are you?”

He gave me that not quite naughty smile and said, “Hello baby, I’m fine, how are you?”

I said, “I’m fine, thank you.”

His eyes took the slow tour up and down my body and that smile got even more naughty and he said, “Yes, you are. I can see that, baby.”

You know I walked around with the big head for a long time. How often do you get someone like Prince to not only give you The Eye, but tell you that you are fine? Yes Lord. My life was complete.

But yes, I loved Prince. I loved a man who dressed whatever way he wanted, purple jackets, white lace shirts, skin tight pants with buttons down the legs and high heels. I loved a man who wore his hair like his crown. He wore his mascara and he walked like he owned the whole world.

What did it matter that he was short? Who cared? He might have been small in stature but he was huge in our lives and in this world.

He did just what he wanted to do and we might have joked and laughed but we loved him. I knew no other man that could pull off wearing pants with cut outs showing his natural ass.

And did he show them who he was at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame playing “While My Guitar Gently Weeps?” He rocked it like a boss and then threw that guitar and walked away leaving us all in awe.

There was so much to Prince and we loved it all.

And now he is gone.

We will live and we will go on but we will sit down and hear “Little Red Corvette” or “When Doves Cry” and we will smile and sing along and we will think of the man with those beautiful eyes and that shy smile and that devilish demeanor and we will still love him.

He is, after all, our Prince. And so he shall remain. Go in Peace, Prince. Rest in Paradise. You will always be a part of us. 

Not Your Friend

Everybody Isn’t Your Friend

I was walking my dog down the street one day not long ago and we passed someone who was walking too. She didn’t speak to me, or really even acknowledge me but Lola was trying to get close to her and I pulled her back, saying, “Lola, stop, Everybody isn’t your friend,” and we kept walking.

A few steps later, the woman caught up with me and asked, “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?” I asked.

“That everybody isn’t your friend. Why would you tell your dog that?”

“Because everybody isn’t and the sooner she figures that out, the longer she will live.”

The woman’s face was red, “That’s a terrible thing to teach her!”

“It will save her life,” I retorted, “she won’t approach someone who could do her harm.”

I walked away from her.

There was a lot more that I wanted to say but I knew better. That woman wasn’t ready to hear the truth.

I am the only black person who lives on my street on my end of town. I am living in a little redneck town in North Florida. I’ve lived here before so I know how it is.

The people who are nice are really great. They are thoughtful and sweet and kind and will do anything for you. I love this place for that. I have had people reach out to me and show me incredible kindness that I will never forget.

But I have also seen people glowering at me when they saw me walking. One called the police reporting someone suspicious but luckily, the chief of police is a neighbor and he knew who I was and he told her to calm down.

I have seen the Confederate flags flying and I have seen the people who really hated the fact I was married to a white man who happens to be Jewish. I know where I stand here.

I hadn’t thought much about that phrase for a while, but I remember that my mother told me that when I was small.

“Everybody isn’t your friend, Brenda. Don’t talk so much. Don’t talk to people you don’t know,” she said.

When I was 5 or so, I was a little chatterbox and I talked to anyone and everyone who would indulge me. Mama was afraid something would happen to me and she gave me that warning several times in my life.

When we moved from Chicago to the town where I grew up, she reminded me again. I had learned that one already.

Mom had had my ears pierced when I was 6 or so and when we moved, I was the only little girl on the playground with pierced ears. I had been wearing a pair of gold hoops for years and never thought about it. I also was wearing thick glasses because I am severely nearsighted.

I was standing in the schoolyard one day when a couple of little black girls approached me. They started asking me questions and it was clear they weren’t being friendly. I was still trying to make friends and fit in but these girls were clearly hostile to me. They made fun of my glasses and my earrings and the way I spoke. I finally blew up and slapped one of them so hard her lip bled. They left me alone.

I knew then for sure that everybody wasn’t my friend. And I knew it wasn’t always a racial thing. Sometimes it’s just rude and stupid people. Sometimes it’s jealous, insecure people. And sometimes it’s just people who are downright mean.

But many times, it is racial. I know very well I have crossed paths with people who looked at me and wanted to hang me, burn me, beat me or drag me behind their car or truck, just because I am black. I know they hated that I am articulate, that I am smart and that I am attractive. It’s not what they believe I should be and they hate me for it.

I go where I want to go and I say what I want to say. I have never let anyone dictate the way I should live or what I should do. But still, I have always been cautious with people.

I rarely speak to people unless they speak to me first. I wait to see their reaction to me before I react to them. I know I stand back and watch people first and that while I may appear aloof and distant, I am really reserved and cautious.

I’m not walking up to someone with a smile so they can call me the N-word. I’m not going to give them the chance to insult or denigrate me at least to my face. I keep my distance and I wait till I think it’s safe.

I’m that way with men too. I am probably even more cautious with men than most of them like. I don’t want a man knowing where I live or what my phone number is until I want him to.

When I talk to men online, I have a set routine of how I want it to go. Many don’t like it and I don’t care. I am taking care of myself. If he sends me a message and I think I might like to talk to him, I respond. If that works, I will give him my email address and we can either exchange emails or we can chat online. If I still feel all right with him, I will then give him my number so that he can call me. And I mean it just like that, so he can call me.

If we still feel like it’s right, then and only then we can start to plan on when we can meet face to face. That can happen in a week, maybe 2 but often it takes longer. I have met too many men who instantly want to call me or text me.

What happens if we don’t hit it off or if I don’t like him as much as he likes me? He can call me or text me when I don’t want him to. I don’t want that so I am careful about how I proceed with that. I don’t want to meet him right away. I want to feel him out so I can see where his head is. He should feel the same way. We both should be careful we don’t get involved with someone who is dangerous or unbalanced.

I’m just as careful meeting someone face to face. I don’t want to pretend I like him or want to be with him because I am afraid of him. I know a lot of men can’t stand to be rejected and will turn mean and violent so I keep a wide berth. I rarely meet anyone eyes when I am walking down the street. I know that some men totally misinterpret friendliness for flirtation and I don’t want to go there.

So don’t bother telling me to smile when you see me. I am not going to smile unless I want to. I don’t want you all in my face unless I invite you there.

So maybe I am too careful. It could very well be. I don’t doubt it. I am sure I have offended people by being that way. But I know I have remained alive and safe because of it.

So no, everybody isn’t my friend. If you don’t like that, I am sorry.

 Just imagine if Emmitt Till had known that.

What about those girls that Ted Bundy lured into his car?

Or those boys that John Wayne Gacy killed?

I’m glad my mother taught me that. I’m sorry that most black mothers have to teach their children to be cautious like that.

I’m sorry that women don’t realize that they have to be more cautious with men.

I’m sorry that we have to teach children not to talk to strangers and not to trust people they don’t know.

We live in a world full of hate and anger and danger. We need to be more afraid of the people we meet. Realizing that everyone isn’t your friend can keep you safe.

What’s wrong with that? 

Can We Talk?

Has there really been more racism? Or was it always there and it was just on the DL? Are more racists emboldened because of their anger at our first African American president? Or was it there and nobody said anything?

I don’t know the reason but suddenly you can hardly read the news without somebody getting caught on tape, an open mic or writing something racist and hateful. Racists seem to have their own little world on Twitter and post stuff that would raise the hair of the person with the toughest hide. It makes you wonder – do they really hate me that much? What did I ever do for them to hate me like that?

When I was a young woman back in the Disco Days, I actually thought we’d somehow get past all the racism of the past. I thought the Civil Rights movement and the Black Power movement had taught us to look past all that. I thought more people heard what Dr. King said about the content of our character.

I’m going to make some folks mad, but oh well. I guess I have a right. I thought when some of the Greatest Generation passed on that they would take their racism with them.

Now before you start screaming, keep this in mind: that generation was the one that insisted that black folks walk down the street with their eyes down. They were the ones who called black men “boy.” They were the ones who took pictures of a lynching and stood there proudly posing with the evidence of what they had done. They were the ones who killed the 3 civil rights workers in Mississippi. One of them killed Emmitt Till. One of them bombed a church (!!) and killed 4 innocent little girls.

Those white women spitting hate at poor little Ruby Bridges? Yep. Them too. All that at a child. A little girl. And we all know what a little black girl is worth now, don’t we?

Bull Connor was one of them. So was George Wallace and Strom Thurmond. The Greatest Generation didn’t want to serve with black soldiers. The military had to be segregated for them. They were the ones that would not allow black soldiers to eat in the same mess hall with them – but fed German POW’s like they were guests.

They didn’t want to treat our veterans with any measure of respect after they came back from serving in WWII. Some of them beat a black vet to death because he got on a bus through the front door instead of the back.

Yeah, those people who mistreated my Mom and Dad so badly that when they left the South, they never wanted to go back.

That’s who I’m talking about. You know who they are – the so-called Greatest Generation.

But it seems they taught their kids some lessons about hate and discrimination and those kids taught their kids too. So it’s pretty clear this problem isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

I don’t have any illusions about it anymore. Racism is just as much a part of American culture as baseball and apple pie. I keep hearing about folks talking about these being post racial times and that things are so much better now. Really?

So how can a black woman who shot warning shots at a man who had been brutalizing her get arrested and charged and given a sentence of 20 years? She didn’t shoot him. She shot warning shots. But a white man shoots an unarmed teenager that he had been harassing and he walks around a free man right now.

If a young black man commits a crime – even a victimless crime – they throw the book at him. They have to get him off the street. He’s a menace. But if a white boy kills four innocent people, well, we don’t want to ruin his life. He made a mistake. People do. Besides, he’s so rich he didn’t know right from wrong. Let’s just give him probation. Uh huh.

Inner city men are to blame for our problems. An educated black woman is called an “ape.” I could go on and on but I won’t. It’s enough to make you really depressed and sad for what’s to come.

If we try to discuss it, folks accuse us of playing the race card. I guess we aren’t supposed to say anything about it. We should just forget it, right? Get over it. Things are better.

No. No, they aren’t.

I always knew that many white people talk one way when they’re with us and it’s completely something else when they are together and we aren’t there. But when you hear some of the comments that have been recorded or you see the venom in some of the posts on Facebook and Twitter, you begin to wonder.

You look at folks you know and you wonder what they say about you. You wonder if that person who is smiling in your face really thinks that he’s better than you simply because he’s white. It widens the gulf between us.

Oh dear God, there is a police car behind me! What does he want? I didn’t do anything! You struggle to get your license out and you speak slowly and you don’t make any sudden moves because you know it’s very likely that he will shoot you even though you didn’t do anything.

You’re black, after all.

I used to have a lot of hope. I guess I have looked at too much “Star Trek.” I thought we’d be moving towards that kind of society but we aren’t. We’re going backwards.

I wish I could wrap this up with some answers or solutions. I don’t have any. I wish we could talk to each other about this without blaming, getting defensive or anger.  

I look at interracial relationships and the beautiful children they create. I have biracial cousins and 2 beautiful biracial nephews that I love madly. When we get together, family wise, we have become a blended family of both races and I love that. I think maybe I’m wrong and that it will be better.

Then I read where a councilwoman in a town in New Jersey said that certain changes in her town would make it into a “fucking niggertown.”

In the words of Marvin Gaye, “it makes me wanna holler, throw up both my hands.”

I just don’t know. I think we’re doomed. Racism keeps us from being great. It keeps us from being united and being one people – Americans. And I don’t think much of anybody cares.

And that hurts.