Just wanted to let everyone know that my book is finally out! Â Conversate is Not A word has hit the shelves and it is a project that I am extremely proud of. (Now you know why it took so long between posts over the last year) Â It is a book I think you will enjoy and as always your feedback is welcome.
You can get a copy here ! Â Thank you so much for your support.
My yearly ode to American Idol….
Some would look at “American Idol” and think it was the living and breathing personification of the American dream. Nobodies getting a chance to be international superstars; it is a once-in-a-lifetime chance at fame and fortune. Only in America! But somehow I don’t see it as a great testimony to hope and the American dream. In my eyes, it shows just how hope-less so many of us have become.
Celebrity is our new religion. You don’t want to be the best, or the smartest or the most honest or the person who worked the hardest. You just want to be the most famous. However you get there, it’s fame that counts now. Those poor schmucks just want a chance to be somebody, anybody. America has taught us that celebrity is really the only thing that really counts. The only time YOU count.
I watch the auditions and see a little smiling boy looking into the camera as he waits for his father to complete his audition, saying “Daddy gon’ to Hollywood!” He’s probably not old enough to read, but he’s old enough to know that going to Hollywood is the most important thing. Another woman breaks down crying into the chest of clearly uncomfortable Ryan Seacrest after an unsuccessful audition.
It’s no wonder that so many of those young people are devastated. To them, they missed their chance. Not their chance to be on a TV show, but a chance to be somebody for once in their lives. Our obsession with celebrity and money has made us all feel inadequate in our daily lives. Compared to the lives of Beyonce and Paris Hilton and Diddy and Jay-Z, it would seem that our lives totally suck. Nothing in our lives is valuable or important. It cant be because we’re not famous and thats what really counts.
And we, the viewing public, are ever so happy to participate in this process. We vicariously feel their excitement when they exit the audition room with their gold ticket and everyone screams with joy and envelopes them in hugs. Nevertheless, something portends disaster. It’s strangely similar to watching someone who won the lottery and being happy for them, but secretly knowing that its more likely than not that they will be broke in five years. We know the story so well. It happens every year. For 99 percent of them, the dream will be over in weeks. They will leave the show and the spotlight, and then what?
It’s the “then what” part that is so disturbing. How we have come to measure success has become so distorted and myopic. We have young people who are so starved for “fame” and “celebrity” and “easy riches” that their lives become solely a quest for what will make them a star. From Youtube to “Idol,” we are raising a generation whose only barometer for achievement is a lifestyle of celebrity and easy wealth. Fuck a job.
Whereas a generation ago, men and women were happy if they just achieved more than their parents: if they got to college or got a good job and had a family. That was success to them. Now, we deem ourselves failures if we’re not millionaires by 30. We are lost in what we see, what others have, what we don’t have, what we’re not. We don’t feel like somebody in our personal lives, so we go audition for “American Idol,” hoping someone will deem us worthy. Will make us feel as if we matter. Famous people matter, so we want to be them. By any means necessary.
If there was any doubt that the hope of overnight celebrity has indeed overshadowed the hope of achieving something substantive in life, then “American Idol” is proof positive. Is there such a void of hope in this country that “American Idol” has replaced Jesus as savior to the downtrodden? I mean, let’s face it, Jesus won’t get you on the cover of People or a reality show.
And those poor people who are so angry or sob uncontrollably. I bet it’s not only because they didn’t move through to the next round. A woman cried in to her cell phone after being rejected, “They crushed my dream.” For some of them, this is all they believe they can do. It’s like in the movie “Precious,” when the teacher asked her what she was good at, and she said, “Nothing.” Many believe that this made-up, marketing machine of a TV show holds the only key to their happiness.
No one has told them that they are smart and beautiful and courageous and have something unique and important to offer the world. Somewhere along the line, we decided that being a star was more important then being smart, being honest, having a career and working hard. In too many cases, no one has told them that education is what matters. An education will never reject you or tell you you’re dreadful. You don’t need a gold ticket if you OWN the show. The key to success is education and hard work. Period.
No one emphasizes that far more people don’t make it than do, and the biggest stars aren’t where they are because a panel of judges deemed them talented. They worked and scratched and hustled for years.
No one has told these young people that they have unique skills in geometry or a foreign language and can be an astronaut or an ambassador one day. No one tells them they can build bridges or fly airplanes or sit on the Supreme Court. Whatever happened to real American Dreams?
If you ask 20 elementary school students what they want to be when they grow up, the standard doctor-lawyer answer that has been around for a generation, has been replaced by entertainer-athlete. Anytime I hear a young person say they want to be an entertainer, I ask, Well, what exactly do you want to do? They NEVER have an answer. And it scares the shit out of me. If I meet one more 30-year-old who’s working on a record deal….
Just as Barack Obama brings a message of hope to his presidency, I can’t help but watch “American Idol” and lament that this is the extent of hope for so many. We have lost those dreams of peace on earth and good will to men. Of family, of achievement, of community, of ending world hunger. To hell with all that. That stuff is hard.
We just want to go to Hollywood.
Though we don’t like to admit it, there are certain feelings that, as a woman and specifically as a black woman, I’m supposed to have. African Americans are pretty legendary for our “blackness” litmus tests. Add being a woman on top of that, and the community can be pretty demanding about what you should and shouldn’t think.
Well, I’m here to confess my Internal Blackness Violations (IBVs). I’m finally going to get it all off my chest. These are things I often think, but dare not say. Until now.
And while many of my most secret thoughts may undermine my legitimacy as a black woman, I must let them out before I explode. I warn you. It’s not pretty.
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1. I think Michelle Obama is kinda funny looking.
2. I could care less about that hoopla over Reggie Bush being on the cover of Essence and even less about who he dates.
3. I think the WNBA is full of ugly lesbians (not that anything’s wrong with that).
4. I think Michael Steele is embarrassingly inarticulate.
5. I think many of Tom Joyner’s “Little-Known Black History Facts” are, in fact, not true.
6. Women sportscasters, police officers and soldiers make me uncomfortable. Pam Oliver not withstanding, I just haven’t gotten comfortable with women in those positions yet. I want a man to show up to my 911 call. Sorry Gloria Steinem.
7. I think Kwanzaa is stupid. (And too damn complicated)
8. Sometimes I say in my head, ‘I’m glad my hair isn’t as nappy as hers.’
9. I think David Brooks is right more than he is wrong.
10. I think Tyra was getting too big.
11. (As a single black woman) I’m sick of hearing black women complain about being single. Read a book.
12. I think Michael Baisden is silly, loud and annoying, and that most of the people that call his show are morons.
13. The bitter black women wing of the blogosphere is so tired. They all just need to get laid. Outrage-obsessed black women are sooooo 20th century.
14. I’ve never liked Teena Marie’s voice. I think she sounds terrible.
15. Whenever they start to play reggae music at a party, I go sit down.
16. I secretly think all Nigerians are gonna rip me off. Sorry.
17. I haven’t bought a Mary J. Blige album since “What’s the 411.”
Whew! The first step is admitting the problem and being honest with yourself. Okay, now I can sleep tonight.
Do you have any IBVs?
Peace, people.
As we head in to a new year, I wanted to write a challenge to all of you. Though I’m writing generally for women, because that’s who i know best, this really applies to everyone. Instead of my usual bitching and moaning about God knows what, I want to take this opportunity to encourage instead of complain. Enjoy it while it lasts…
We live in a culture where the individual is highly regarded. Individual choice is heralded, personal responsibility is required and we pride ourselves on individual opportunity. But it think its time for a bit of a reality check.
Somewhere in our quest for individual success, we forget our relationships with others. We forget that how we treat others is just as important as how they treat us. Too often we become takers. We want to “play them” before they “play us.” We focus solely on “getting ours.” We encourage each other to “do you!” And like a cheating lover, this strategy will betray you and leave you lonely.
While I’m all about acknowledging one’s self-worth, many of us women have a misplaced sense of entitlement. Many of us have inflated our own value, and just like the housing market, bubbles based on nothing will always burst. Before you proclaim why you deserve so much, think about what you have actually given. And no, pussy doesn’t count.
Despite the sassy, overbearing, neck-rolling, dominating, i-can-do-bad-by-myself, tough-as-nails images of ourselves we see in the media, know that we are at our very best when we provide for others. We are at our best when we embrace our womanhood with compassion, warmth and generosity.
Being strong doesn’t mean being angry. Being independent doesn’t mean being selfish. Being educated doesn’t mean being elitist. We shine when we nurture and love and care. Don’t be afraid to laugh and cry and dance and love with reckless abandon. Don’t be afraid to smile. Softness and vulnerability and tenderness do not make you weak. They make you human. They make you a woman.
As you climb the corporate ladder, embark on the partner-track or whatever rat-race you find yourself in, do not lose your humanity. Once you’ve clawed your way to the top, wield your success with grace and humility.
In love, treat men how you want to be treated. Know that his needs are just as important as yours. Don’t treat your relationships as if you are the only prize. It astounds me how many women think that somehow they are the only one that matters in a relationship. Its called a RELATIONSHIP for a reason. Remember that. Why do you think that when you yell, and berate and marginalize a man, he will love you? Yes, we know you are strong and capable, but so is he. So let him be it.
Don’t punish your children (and everyone else) for your bad decisions and poor choices. And yes, you have made some. Probably several.
Admit that your “thick” status became “fat” years ago. And do something about it.
And although you may not believe it, you really don’t have something to prove to everyone.
Let’s also abandon our obsession with images and status. Make sure there’s a brain under your $1,200 weave. Make sure there’s a heart beneath your Prada suit. Being a good daughter, a good wife and a good friend is just as important as getting in to a good school, making good money or getting a good job.
Don’t treat your friends or children or parents like they are just another entry on your to-do list. (Trust, I’ve learned the hard way.)
The power-hungry, race-to-the-top strategy for corporate success just doesn’t translate well in the world of real human beings. The selfish, conniving, cold-blooded, back-stabber only thrives in Hollywood movies. Generally, they end up bitter and alone. Perhaps bitter and alone in a fantastic house, but bitter and alone nonetheless.
No matter how accomplished you are, what people will remember is how you treated them. No one will recall how many degrees you had or what type of car you drove or that you had a fireplace in every room, but they will remember how you made them feel and what you brought to their lives and that you made them a better person for having known you.
As 2010 begins, each of our resolutions should include leaving the world a better place than we found it and making the people around you feel enriched for having met you. So in the boardroom, be a bitch if you need to, but remember to leave that bitch at work. And when you come home, don’t be afraid to unpack your Coach attaché or Hermes Birkin and take the woman back out.
Happy New Year. Peace people.
I have tried to bite my tongue a little on this issue because I knew everyone would yell at me, but the situation has gotten to a point of crisis. We are so damn fat. And we are killing ourselves and our children.
I don’t know what it was about this summer. Perhaps it was the unfortunate intersection of an increasingly obese population with the fashion fads of skinny jeans and hoe wear. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t pretty. I saw more guts hanging over jeans, more rolls in backs and more stretch marks in the past few months than I had seen in the last five years. And these are girls under 18.
Its actually quite scary. If these young women are this big and out of shape at 16, what will they look like at 30 or after they have children? These girls are a walking health care crisis. We are in danger of losing an entire generation to diabetes, heart disease and hypertension. Entirely preventable diseases that we allow to claim our young people while we sit idly by.
We all know that America as a whole has an obesity problem. Most of us could shed a few pounds, exercise more and eat better. But the fact that we have passed on our bad habits to our children and then allowed them to run wild in the candy aisle at Costco is inexcusable.Â
And African-American women have a particularly complicated problem. We are told from the time that we are young that men like thick women.  I didn’t know anyone growing up who wanted to be skinny. You wanted to have a nice ass, thick thighs and nice boobs. A little extra meat on your bones was considered a good thing and still is. It is absolutely true that we can carry a little more weight and still look good. HOWEVER, we seem to have gotten carried away.  The term “thick†is increasingly used by our women to justify being too damn fat. Yes, you may have an ass the size of a kitchen table, but so is your belly. Serena Williams is “thick,†you’re probably just fat.
I applaud women for being confident and secure in their own skin but please don’t tell me that there is nothing wrong with being five feet five and 190 pounds. You can proudly exclaim that you are a “big girl†and “big girls†are beautiful, but don’t leave out the most important part: big girls are more likely to be sick and die early. When will we be honest with ourselves?   This seems to be a recurring theme in many urban communities. Instead of addressing a problem, we just turn it on its head and celebrate it as unique African-American culture.Â
Now, I am well aware of the challenges many urban communities face when it comes to diet. There are few grocery stores and many carry-outs. There is fast food but no sit-down restaurants. Yes, these things are absolutely true and should be addressed and reformed in a systematic way city by city. However, that doesn’t give us a license to drown ourselves in fat and grease in protest.
Frankly, when I was growing up, the city was no different. Fast food places and carry-outs were still prevalent but somehow we all managed to make it through adolescence without size 16 pants and inhalers.  But, back then we did a little thing called playing outside. We only had four channels to watch and unless it was Saturday morning or a weekday between 3-5p, there was generally nothing on any of them you wanted to watch. There was no internet and no video games (except my blazing hot Atari 2600 – do not hate.)  So you had to actually play with each other.  McDonald’s was a rare treat that we got excited about. Its just a different world now. But knowing that, we must act.
So there are cultural issues to contend with regarding this onset of childhood obesity. But that’s the good news. Cultural means we can actually change it. But to change it in our children, we must change it in ourselves.
We eat too much of the wrong thing, we don’t get off the couch often enough, we drink, we smoke. Now I’m no saint, I will get a McDonald’s #1 in a New York minute, but I do live a life where I am aware of what I’m eating and try to drag my ass to the gym on a regular basis. The drinking we can discuss in another post.
All I’m saying is that, much like other problems our community faces, we cannot sit by, do nothing and watch our kids get fatter and fatter. Big kids become big adults and eventually have big health problems. No one is responsible for our young people but us. Whether its getting them involved in more physical activity, more organized team sports or just limiting the amount of crap we have in our homes for them to eat. But we must set good examples. James Baldwin says while children may not listen to you, they never fail to imitate you. Maybe you could do something with them, even if its as simple as walking around the block or a track.
I know in this new child-centric world that we don’t want to hurt a child’s feelings, we don’t want to embarrass them or ever upset them in any way. They are little kings and queens and we want to pretend like everything about them is great and perfect and there are no losers and everyone is a winner and all that crap. But you know what, there are losers and there are fat people. They shouldnt be either. And if it takes wrestling that chicken wing out of their mouth to save their life, then so be it.
These are lives. We are seeing an exponential increase in diabetes among our young people. Dont they have enough challenges? On the bus I see parents feeding their kids soda and cheese curls at 8am. We have got to take some responsibility for the lives of our children.     Â
This isn’t about fashion or some European standard of beauty bullshit ( i already hear the black nationalists putting on their Africa medallions about to get in my ass). I certainly don’t think everyone needs to be a size 6, and frankly im thankful our young girls dont grow up obsessed with being thin like our white counterparts, HOWEVER,  I do wish we would focus as much on the health and well-being of our young people as much as we focus on the expensive clothes we get them to put over their fat asses.
The solutions are complex and multi-layered and in the end it comes down to each individual figuring out what is best for them and their families. I just want you to do something so I don’t have to look at your 15 year old’s gut hanging out of her too-tight Ed Hardy shirt on the bus in the morning. I dont think thats too much to ask.
Peace people.
I have a quandary that perhaps you enlightened readers can help me with. I call it “The Coonery Paradox.†Much like the String Theory or the elusive Theory of Everything, it is a puzzle that baffles the mind. A paradox is defined as “a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.â€Â What I am about to describe is exactly that, two sides of reality that seem completely contradictory but at the same time is our current truth.
It boils down to a simple question:Â Why is it ok to BE a coon or portray a coon in mainstream media, but if you call people out for being coons in mainstream media, you are vilified?
[Warning:Â This is a VERY black issue and I know I have a diverse readership, so others, just follow along as best you can.]
Why does the black community turn a blind eye and meet with absolute silence some of the most coonish portrayals of black folks in the media, but when those same people or stereotypes are challenged for the coonery they are, the community gets into an absolute uproar and the challenger becomes the villain. The Coonery Paradox.
I look at shows like Chocolate News, The Boondocks and the Dave Chapelle Show, both of which got heat from the black community about their portrayals of black folks and black culture. These comedians cleverly satired some of the less flattering aspects of the culture. They parodied people and situations we all know and exposed them in all their ridiculousness in a humorous way. But the message was clear, come on y’all. They held the mirror up, added some humor, and went over the top, often in an effort to challenge the very stereotypes we supposedly hate so much. However, both shows seem to rub many black folks the wrong way. I read articles that even celebrated the fact that Chocolate News was cancelled.
I look at my show “We Got To Do Better†which aimed to do the same by calling out coonish behavior for what is was, a hot ass embarrassing-to-us-all ghetto mess. It offered no-apology commentary about the images of ourselves we were promulgating all over the world.  It even had the nerve to have statistics and positive profiles as part of the show. And as you may or may not know, the show sparked a NATIONAL FUCKING PROTEST. Rufkm? The NAACP was having “Watch partiesâ€, there were on-line petitions, panel discussions, t-shirts and God knows what else. Gina McCauley, a completely misguided idiot who runs some Pro Black Woman bullshit blog, made protesting the show her personal cause de célèbre. The logo above was the original logo for the show but was yanked because of the “racial controversy.” What better symbol of ANTI-Cooning is there? We wanted make our purpose abundantly clear. Alas….
 My point, and I do have one, is that I am noticing something very disturbing about black community “activism†(or fake-ass activism as I like to call it).Â
Where the hell are these pro-black self-proclaimed protectors of the black image when Flava of Love was on? When Ray-J was on? I can’t think of two shows that denigrated black women like these did.
This summer sees the launch of two new reality shows featuring Keyshia Cole’s ex-crackhead mom and her alkie sister. Both of whom’s claim to fame are their over the top ghetto, alcohol and crack-brain fueled behavior. (crack brain is what people who have been on crack a long time have, even if they’re no longer using, they just aint right no more). The show is called Frankie & Neffie. It’s a reality show showcasing a crackie and an alkie, both with several children by several people!!!
 Where are the protests now? Where is the alarm? What about all the daughters that will watch these shows and think they are accurate representations of black women? Where’s the boycott of the sponsors?  Hello???? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Crickets from the protesting class.
Oh wait, there’s also a show featuring a jailed rapper’s girlfriend and another rapper’s baby mama who had their child at 15. Both of whom sound like they just learned to read last week.  So now we have a show that many young women will watch and now aspire to be illiterate rapper teen baby mamas.Â
Where is the outrage now? Gina McCauley? Other random idiots??? Hellooooooo???? Where are your letter writing campaigns now? Are yall going after the sponsors of those shows too?
Btw, the show is called “Tiny and Toya†and debuted this week with the highest ratings in the history of its network.
Seen Maury “You are Not the Father†Povich lately? What makes women look any worse than that? (though that shit is funny) I Love New York?  Proteeeeestors….come out and plaaaaayyyyy…..
Why are critiques of negativity condemned while we welcome actual negativity with open arms and high ratings and top record sales? The Coonery Paradox.
Bomani Armah’s animated music video “Read a Book†aired last year was a brilliant parody of the stereotypical rap video and parents and viewers and protesters went NUTS. So wait, you are mad at the parody, but you let the real thing air all day everyday without a peep? I don’t want that nasty parody on my television for my kids to see, show the Rick Ross video instead.   The Coonery Paradox.
We rarely publicly castigate those who are in the media making us all look bad, but God help you if you ever point out the fact that they’re making us look bad. Then you are automatically a self-hating, Uncle Tom, elitist, wannabe-white sell-out who is exploiting their people. The Coonery Paradox.
I am, by no means, saying that critiques of culture shouldn’t be subject to the same artistic and intellectual criticism as everything else. Lets face it, “ We Got To Do Better†was no Frontline. There should be a vigorous debate about all art all the time. So why do some things consistently get a pass?  I just cannot wrap my mind around the lack of public galvanization and critique of the things that are REALLY destroying the minds of our youth.Â
Of course, I’m close to this issue.  Maybe its just me.  Maybe I’m trippin. Maybe I’m completely off base here. Maybe I’ve just had too much wine. Â
 We Got To Do Better, despite the highest ratings of the summer, was taken off because of the “controversy†surrounding it. Yeah, we wouldn’t want to have any show that actually tells people to get their shit together. But its cool, we have “Frankie and Neffie†now. The Coonery Paradox.
This isn’t about individual artists, specific channels or record labels. I don’t want to get hung up on specifics. I used show examples just to make my point.  I just dont understand the odd response we have to representations of ourselves in mainstream media.   We get mad if white people call us coons, we get mad if black folks call us coons, but straight up coonery? Bring it on. The Coonery Paradox.
You figure it out.
 Peace people.Â
*UPDATED (had to add The Boondocks and explain the graphic)
