Ability versus Attitude

Today made for an interesting day. I faciltated a meeting in which a colleague interjected a challenge of ability versus attitude. In a time where social justice undergirds  the work we provide, it is important for us to use caution with terms such as micro aggressions and trigger. Sometimes these words of significant meaning are tossed around lime candy on Halloween night with very little gravity of depth.

Taboo as it may, sometimes these words become buzz or trending topics that mask areas such as disengagement, comfort, complacency, or apathy. The roots in these situations tend to be distrust, disenfranchisement, and disord. If we neglect to dig deeper, the gap of communication divide will only widen.

Black Lives Matter Too

The passing years have seen the phrase “Black Lives Matter” as the catch-all for discriminatory or inflammatory acts to be referenced in our social hemisphere.  Typically these horrific events center with the justice system or civil unrest around poor interactions between African-Americans and those of privilege

Take a step back and re-read the last sentence. Those of privilege. Bubbling under the radar for years has been the dissonance between Men and Women of African ancestry. Too often oppression is seen as an external force, but quite frequent is the dismissal of persons within the African American culture by one another.

Easily one of the most divided ethnic groups whose historical context paints an accurate picture of self-hatred. Over centuries, the African-American culture has fought for visibility and humanity while secretly at home fighting marital abuse, neglect, hunger, rape, incest, alcoholism, colorism, and many other obstacles that separate the fabric of our homes.

So, why “Black Lives Matter Too?” Some days of the week, as an African-American female, I have to hold up a mirror to remind others who self-identify in similarly that we matter. We have to role model what matter means from time to time. I’m not digressing from the traditional movement but we have to look inside.

Just this summer, I served in a temporary capacity before relocating from the South to the Midwest. I worked with an amazing team minus an incident that took me back 100 years that I have yet to live. I had the unfortunate experience of being supervised by an African-American Male who made harassing jokes about my identity. The culprit dismiss reminders that this day in age such conversation has no place in higher education. He would laugh and utter “angry black female.” I remember taking a phone call and having the same belligerent male standing over me calling me an angry black female in the midst of my phone call with a customer. I’m not one for passivity, but my need for sanity overrode the need to report to HR. I had 72 hours before relocating to my new state and I had to make a choice in favor of my health. Some who have never had to report hostile environment to HR have no idea how taxing the process is.

It’s important to make these reports but my health was far too important for me to educate a man who knows better. Yet, the same male supervisor stands clueless to his words being as lethal to the bullets that have taken lives of many African Americans in a three-year span. Such cowardly, self-hating persons do not see the impact of their actions. Hence, I hold the mirror today to remind all that the life of a Black person matters. Especially, those who hold that verify identity.

Down Memory Lane

I didn’t make it to Church tonight. I told myself, I wouldn’t miss Bible study. I’ve enjoyed it thus far but I decided I had no space left for traffic and people (combined). Instead, I chatted like a teenager on the phone with one of my favorite Georgians, Chantal.

We had a ball checking on each other and exchanging lessons learned within the past 24 hours of life. Somewhere down the line, we took a Minnie Ripperton stroll down Memory Lane. Our chat delved back to the beginning days of co-dependency work. It had been ages since we did some of that reflection work. We snickered and giggled at how ‘overconsuming’ our actions could be on others. I recall referencing that in my 20s and early 30s I would shift from one extreme to another. One minute I’m throwing the baby out with the bath water and telling folks to duck the tub that would be following suit.

Essentially, growth has taken her course and allowed us a moment of maturity to see know what was foreign to us then. Little girls robed in grown women’s bodies parading as adults but still crying out for the attention we should have received as youth. Towards the end of the conversation, I remember laughing and sharing that I prefer that journey any day over some of the other extremes that I have witnessed in my time.

Glad, I shared that journey with many then and sit in a better place now. Temptation to resort back to co-dependent ways always find a way to surface. However, boundary work becomes more natural the more you stick to it. Love that my journey with a trusted friend tonight happened.

Sometimes Church happens outside of a building (un-hunh says all the believers). *Wink*