Perception

How are you perceived by others?  By others, I mean people you come in contact with on a day to day basis like, co-workers, bus driver, the woman you see every morning on the train, your neighbor, fellow gym-goer etc.

My boyfriend hates the word perception.  I think he equates the word with passing judgment but it is so much more than passing judgment.  The word perception is very tricky because everyone’s perception is different. Everyone has their own way of seeing things and processing information and interactions.  Perception comes from actual knowledge and interaction, when passing judgment comes from not having a true understanding, but automatically choosing to hate or dislike. 

Often times how we perceive someone isn’t really who they truly are.  I know for me there’s “Work Martine” and then there’s “Home Martine”, who is completely opposite.  I try to keep as professional as possible at work because I’m not particularly interested in making friends with my co-workers.  I’ve worked in Corporate America for a very long time in various companies and I know the game. Especially being one of very few black women at the company, I have to remain professional; so I keep my nose clean, work hard and be as generically cordial and friendly as possible. 

In the past, I was told a lot in high school and college that I came off as being stuck up. This always bothered me, so whenever I would be in a group of people I would stay quiet because I thought “If people are going to always think I’m stuck up, then I might as well not say anything”, so my walls went up.  Meanwhile, I knew that I wasn’t being stuck up, I am just the type of person that has to warm up to people before I feel comfortable.   And I’m still like that till this day. Except now, I’m a lot more comfortable with myself and I could care less how people perceive me anymore, I know who I am.

Do you ever think about how others perceive you?  Does it depend on who it is…strangers vs. family/friends? 

At the end of the day, do you even really care?

Check out this image below…

My thoughts on BBW Evelyn Lozada apologizing to her younger self & who OUR role models are becoming

Okay, I had some time on my hands so I decided to post a little earlier than promised. Yay Me!

Let’s talk Basketball Wives today… specifically Evelyn Lozada.  Unless you’re living under a rock everyone knows or has heard talk about the over the top drama and violence that took place in the last season of Basket ball Wives.  The main two culprits were Tami Roman and Evelyn Lozada, but we won’t be talking Tami today. In light of all the bad press the show has been getting Evelyn wrote a letter to her seven year-old self that was published in the Huffington Post a few days ago.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/05/evelyn-lozada-basketball-wives-letter_n_1571505.html

 She wrote it from the point of view of being her present day 36 year old self warning her seven year old self as to what she is going to go through in her life and that she is going to make mistakes and be in the center of a national discussion etc.  And I kind of felt she like she was blaming her upbringing for her rage-a-holic behavior.

When I first read this letter I was thinking “Oh brother, this is just damage control”. And in a way it is,  but at the same time it’s necessary.  Some people, namely my boyfriend just couldn’t wrap his head around her writing a letter to younger self, it made no sense to him. If anything, he feels that it would make more sense to just apologize for her behavior. What’s with the letter writing? He has a good point.

But this is more than just a cut and dry apology. She took this approach because her very young  step-daughter started imitating the scene where she throw a wine bottle at another cast mate. According to her, this is when she realized that little girls were watching her and she felt “painfully small” because of her actions.  In my opinion, when you’re in the public eye, as these women are, you are role models whether you like it or not.  They should have been prepped about that the minute the cameras started rolling, but of course, good role models, don’t make good TV.

I have to admit, I kind of felt bad for Evelyn, I related to her the most.  I guess because she is a New Yorker  and she’s a Sagittarius as I am; we are very misunderstood.  But at the same time I know that those VH-1 paychecks are nice.  Let’s face it, with popular reality shows like these, the main characters can rake in from 750,000.00 to 1 million per season!  Evelyn is making bank!  There has been a lot of pressure for them to stop the violence and do more positive things, so of course they’re going to apologize.  Do I think she is really sorry? Yes, on some level, but I don’t think this situation is going to make her do a 360, maybe she’ll do a 90 for the sake of her BBW check! Meaning, she won’t be throwing fists OR wine bottles, but I’m sure she’ll just be giving out tongue lashings from now on, especially if cameras are rolling!

Evelyn is not the only woman of color behaving badly on TV… reality TV that is. When I saw this cover below a few weeks ago, I was appalled at the cover line that reads  “Meet Your New Role Models”.      Say What?!  I said to myself, those broads are not MY role models nor are they my daughter’s role models. Fuck that! This has to be some type of tongue in cheek play on these NON-ROLE MODELS.

Nope, I was wrong the Vibe reporter was actually giving them props, even though they behave badly. The article basically highlights that even though they do behave less than tasteful, they spun their reality TV fame into successful businesses. So, that makes its okay?  Don’t get me wrong I do watch these “Wives” reality shows, its entertaining…it’s my guilty pleasure,  but I don’t aspire to be like these women nor does my daughter (especially not that Chrissy Lampkin from Love and Hip-Hop, Uggh, can’t stand her!).

But it does say a lot about how these shows have become so influential that they’ve taken over pop culture. Young girls ARE really looking up to these women, as well as others, as role models, it’s a shame.  Let’s hope Evelyn keeps her promise to her seven year old self and really does better. 

Book Excerpt

Okay, so maybe I should just post on Sundays! LOL! Either way, at least I'm still posting. This week, I'm going to post an excerpt from what I've been working on for quite some time... Enjoy.

Bryce rushed out of the apartment building trying to get home quick to shit, shower, and shave before having to come back downtown to meet Ebony at eight o’clock. What he had on was decent, but he wanted to be extra clean and sharp for Ebony. Plus he also wanted to make a couple of business calls about an upcoming club concert he was hired to promote. It was his biggest job yet, so everything had to be perfect. The music industry can be really cut-throat, every man for himself is the attitude. Bryce is still waiting on the deposit from the artist’s manager.

Rushing through the turnstile, he made the D Train just before the doors closed. Trying to catch his breath, he looked around the car for a seat, when low and behold! Magdalena was sitting in the corner looking right at him with those big brown beautiful eyes. Immediately, Bryce was aroused. What are the chances of me running into her twice in one day? Especially when before today we had never even met. He walked over to her, but there wasn’t an available seat next to her. So, he stood in front of her and held onto the handrail over head.

"Hey, girl, twice in one day, eh? Cupid is definitely working overtime."

"I know, right? Are you just getting off work?" she asked.

"Yeah, I’m just headed home to take care of some loose ends with a club promotion I’m working on," he replied.

"Oh, I see. I bet your work keeps you out all hours of the night, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, but the dough makes up for all the late hours."

While looking down at her, he couldn’t help but notice the plunging neckline of her blouse. Her cleavage made him become fully erect. He tried to adjust his stance so, it wasn’t noticeable but Magdalena noticed how Bryce eyed her breasts so she tried to nonchalantly adjust her blazer to cover up.

"I hear you, papi. It’s all about the Benjamins, right?" she replied, while letting out a chuckle.

"Magda, you got a man?"

"No, not at the moment," she replied.

"I love your name by the way. It’s so exotic. Ummm, Magda, do you feel like spending some time with me tonight? I mean, not at my crib or anything. We could go have some coffee, a drink, or whatever you want to do. I want you to feel comfortable because I’m feelin’ you, girl."

Damn! I can’t believe those words just came out my mouth!

"Wow, Bryce, this is so unexpected. Shouldn’t you be taking care of your business tonight. I don’t want to take you away from that," she replied.

"Don’t worry about that. Just say that you’ll hang with me tonight."

"This is kinda off the hook. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to try something once. I’m game. Where you wanna go?" she asked.

Damn, I didn’t expect for her to say yes. Where will I take her?

By this time, the train had pulled into the 125^{th Street stop. So, they got off and went back downtown. From there, they took another train all the way to Brooklyn Heights and walked along the promenade. They talked and walked all night, holding hands. They even found a secluded bench, where they snuggled and were all over each other. She was pressed up against him so close that he felt her nipples getting aroused through her silk blouse. He was fully} erect and there was no way he could even think about holding back. He had to have her, and from the sounds of her moans, Bryce knew that she wanted him too. Bryce leaned back on the bench, and Magdalena straddled and rode him like her life depended on it. He made sure not to ejaculate inside her, but after they were done, he regretted not having a condom. Still, it was the best sex he had in a long time.

Afterwards, they were hungry, so they had dinner at a little Italian restaurant on Montague Street. Bryce ordered penne a la vodka, and Magda ordered the eggplant parmesan, and they drank two bottles of Chardonnay. As they sat there enjoying the late night dinner, Bryce realized that he stood Ebony up!

Oh shit! I got so caught up with Magdalena, I totally forgot about Ebony.

It was 8:35 p.m. Damn, what am I going to do? She’s probably so pissed off right now, and to make it even worse, I didn’t even have her number to call and let her know I wasn’t coming.

At Ebony’s apartment

Bryce is fine as hell. Would it be so bad if we had a fling? He has a job, he’s not a bum, but hopefully he aspires to be more. I think I might want to get to know him a little better. But Damn! …Here it is 8:35pm and Bryce still hasn’t shown up. Strike one!

The attire for the night was casually sexy. Ebony had on a lavender satin camisole, fitted cropped white blazer, her favorite pair of black Seven jeans, metallic silver strappy sandals, and silver clutch handbag. Her hair was flowing beautifully down her shoulders, subtly showing off her two-carat diamond studs. Her outfit was perfect for a casual night of dinner and drinks.

She plopped down on the couch and turned on the television to a "Sex and the City" re-run. While flipping through channels she thought about calling down to the security desk and trying to get a contact number for Bryce. She didn’t think she really needed one this morning because he didn’t seem like the type to stand her up. Honestly, Ebony didn’t even remotely think of the possibility of anybody standing her up; it was just under heard of as far as she was concerned. Who does that?

She decided not to break her neck to get his number.

Fuck it! I can’t believe that muthafucka stood me up! He has already gone well over the half-hour grace period and if he shows up now, I won’t go… just out of principle. Damn Bryce, why’d you have to fuck up on the first try?

She took off her jeans and sandals and decided to just lounge in her camisole and panties, popped some popcorn, and watched "Sex and the City". She felt some comfort watching those white women go through the same bullshit that she was going through. It must’ve been a "Sex and the City" marathon because she fell asleep, woke up about three hours later, and the show was still on! She turned the television off, curled up on the couch, and went back to sleep wondering what could’ve happened to Bryce.

Lila's Lament (Part 2)

Hello All!
Sorry for the late post.... Happy Reading!

Lila's Lament - Part 2

“A group of girls at school have been teasing me and making fun of me for whatever reason, I just don’t know why.  I guess, they just picked me one day to start picking on and it hasn’t stopped. I’ve seen them do this to other people a lot. Even the teachers notice and they do nothing.  They’ve vandalized my locker, tripped me in the hallways, harassed me in gym and I can’t understand why they would pick me to be their next victim. This has to stop mom… I need your help.  See look at my phone” 

Lila hands her mother her cell phone.

Monica scrolls through the countless number of heartless messages.

You suck.

You’re so ugly and fat. Why don’t you just shot yourself?

I heard you’re a bastard child… do you even know who your dad is?

You’re so ugly no guy would ever want you.

The messages started off as just name calling, then they escalated into threats and sexual and derogatory statements.

Monica released a long sigh.

“Lila, I’m so sorry that you have to go through stuff like this.  What kind of kids are these girls? What kind of homes do they come from?”

“I don’t know mom… I don’t know, but what I do know is that I’m getting tired of this.  I’m supposed to have lots of friends and have a good time in high school.  It’s like everyone I was friends with are distancing themselves from me because of these bully girls.”

“Well, if you lost friends for no reason, they weren’t your friends to begin with. Make new ones.”

“Where?”

“Well, how about the girls at dance school?”

“Yeah, they’re nice, I guess.’ Lila shrugs

*****

“Five, six seven, eight!”  Yelled Lila’s dance teacher as the whole class fell in sync to the music and performed the combination they were just taught.  They repeated it over and over until it was seemingly perfect.  Lila didn’t mind working so hard and dancing so much, it took her mind off her current social situation.

“Okay, girls… excellent job. We’re done here, you can go home and rest.”

Lila liked her dance class and she liked the girls in her class.  There was no one from school that attended her dance school, so it was like another world for her. These girls in dance class were nice and mature; it was like a sisterhood.  They bonded over their common interest…dancing. Lila went to the dressing room and immediately heard her text alert going off.  Ten text messages? Oh man, they’re at it again. 

Lila would give anything to stop receiving harassing texts.  She even had to de-activate her Facebook page because she was getting ridiculed on there too.  She thought about changing her cell phone number as well, but didn’t want to inconvenience herself with a new number because of them.

Lila sat on the bench not knowing what her next move should be. Shaking her head, looking at her phone…this situation is getting out of control.

“Hey Lila, what are you doing after class? You wanna go get some pizza with us?” Sharon, her dance mate, asked.

“Ummm, sure I guess” Lila shrugged. She was a little apprehensive but welcomed the promise of new friendships.

*****

Lila came home from hanging out with her dance mates feeling really good.  Her phone was going off the whole time while she was out, so much so that she had to put it on vibrate. She was having such a great time that she didn’t want to cloud her good time with the negative and harassing texts she was receiving.

She walks into the living room and her mom and Louise are sitting on the couch watching Degrassi.

“Hey Lila, how was dance?” Monica asked

“It was great mom, I had a really great time.  You were right making new friends makes me feels so much better.  Even though, I still keep getting these texts…”  Lila took her phone out of her jacket pocket and passed it to her mom.  “I think its time for me to change my number, and I know I asked you not to talk to my principal, but I can’t take this anymore. Please do what you can. I'll give you these girls names so you can call their parents. I'm so over this, I just want them to leave me alone.  I’m tired of being scared of what they may do.  Having such a great time this afternoon with the girls from dance made me really realize that its up to me to take control of this situation and free myself from this bullying.  If we don't, it will never stop.”

Short Fiction: Lila's Lament (Part1)

Lila’s Lament

All she could do is think about how they hurt her. All but thirteen years old, Lila feels like she’s lived a lifetime. She sobs as she lays on her bed; sniffling and wiping away the salty tears that are pooling on her forearm.

“Lila!, Dinners ready!”

She looks at her fingers out stretched and then turns her hand over. Examining all the lines on her palm.  Trying not to think about them, ignoring her mother’s yells about dinner.  Who could eat now? Doesn’t she know I’m in turmoil?

Her bedroom door opens and it’s her little sister, Louise.

“Come on,  Mom wants us down for dinner” she said.

Lila just rolled over facing the opposite side of the room, wiping away the rest of her tears that hadn’t yet dried.

“Are you crying?” asked Louise.  She ran over to Lila’s bed. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m not crying, just tired. Tell mom I’ll eat dinner later, I’m not hungry”

“Okay”

Louise knew that Lila had been crying, but she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it because Lila seems to be always crying.  Louise is seven years old and in the second grade and she couldn’t understand why Lila was always so unhappy. Why she cried so much and why did she care so much about boys and her friends.  It all just seemed like a waste of time and energy to Louise.

Louise went downstairs.  “Mom?”

She ran into the kitchen…”Mom, Lila said she’s not hungry now and that she’ll eat later”.

“What? Why?”

Louise shrugs…” I don know, that is what she said”  She sat down at the kitchen table and waited for the word that it was okay to start eating.

“Well, I’m gonna go talk to her, you go ahead and eat, I’ll be right back with your sister”.

Monica Stanger is a single mother who works as an elementary school teacher during the week and as a yoga instructor on the weekends.   She had a very bitter divorce from her husband (Louise’s father) and has worked hard ever since to provide her girls with a good life, nice home to live in, food on the table and an all around stable environment.  Lila loved her step father and was devastated when her mom and he broke up, because her biological father was never in her life.

Monica was a teenage mom and when she told him that she was pregnant, he denied her and the baby.  She took care of Lila on her own, with the help of her family and hasn’t heard from him since then.

Monica softly knocks on Lila’s door and opens it. When she walks in Lila is on her bed balled up in a fetal position. Shaking her head Monica immediately wonders which kind of adolescent turmoil is plaguing her this time. Fight with her friends? A boy? A teacher? A bad grade?

“Mom, please I don’t feel like eating right now. I’m not hungry”.

“Yes, Lila. I heard, but I came up here to make sure that you’re alright. What’s wrong”?

Monica sits at the edge of the bed near Lila and runs her hand across her cheek, getting the hair out of her face.

“Mom, I just can’t take it anymore.  I’m so tired of the kids at school. Every time I turn around there’s someone new talking about me or lying about me.  People who I thought were my friends are not and it’s really pissing me off”. 

The moment Monica heard that, she prayed that Lila wasn't being bullied.

To be continued...

Back At It.....Changes To My Blog

I’m baaaaccckkkkk! 

I’ve been gone for about five months and just came back from a wonderful vacation with my very significant other; we went to Los Cabos Mexico for four days and Las Vegas for two. We had the best time. I’m mentally rejuvenated and ready to create.

For some time there’s been a struggle between me and my pen & paper that I couldn’t really understand.  The distance made me realize that my fear of failure AND my fear of SUCCESS, yes I said SUCCESS… held me back.

Recently I read two fantastic books that really changed my perspective on how I should be going about my writers journey as well as my life journey; Write It Down and Make It Happen by Henriette Anne Klauser and The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra, both must reads for ALL.

Without going into further detail, these books made me determined to get off my ass and not just think about my dreams of a successful writing career but to actually make them happen and to ask myself “Why not me?”  I can be successful too just like any other successful author out there, that CAN and WILL be me. I deserve it.

So here I am, out of hiding.  This blog will change directions and be completely dedicated to promoting my writing by posting weekly (every Friday) works of fiction (short), poetry and/or commentary.

I don’t know why I hadn’t done this sooner, (actually I do know… pure laziness and fear!), but hey, better late than never!

Happy Reading.

See you Friday.

Smooches

Martine

Good Bye 2011

The year 2011 is coming to an end in a few weeks.  So many amazing things happened this year. The biggest thing for me was graduating college.  At the same time, there were so many other goals I had on my mental list, that I didn't even come close to accomplishing. They'll just have to carry over into 2012!

I wanted to take a much overdue vacation, self-publish my novel, save money and I could go on and on.  As frustrated as I am that I was not able to meet much of my 2011 goals, I know that they will come, maybe in 2012 or even in 2013. 

I realized that even though I set goals for myself, they are not always going to happen in the time frame that I set. As cliche as this sounds, God controls our plans. We may make the plans and take careful steps to carry them out but those plans are always tweeked a bit by God; things never go exactly as you plan because He holds the main plan.

2012 will be my year of major change.  I am declaring it now and will commit myself to take conscious steps towards that change and watch God's plan for me unfold.

Choices...

Everyone, at some point in their adult life reflects on how their lives came to be the way they are. We never pictured ourselves to be unemployed, broke, divorced, relationship challenged, without children or whatever the case may be.

When you’re 16 years old, the common thought of the future is going to college, having fun with friends, graduating, obtaining your dream job, getting married, having a few kids and living happily ever after.

I went to high school with a guy that had everything going for himself. He had excellent grades and a full football scholarship to one of the best African American colleges in the nation. He wasn’t the best looking guy, but he definitely had his head on straight and probably would’ve made some lucky woman very happy one day.

He had been dating a young woman about three years older than him. She already had her own apartment. (Mind you- we’re 17 year old seniors in high school, so she’s 20 years old with 2 kids!), which automatically told me she had a different upbringing than he did and a lot more life experience.  He had been seeing her for about 6 months and approximately one month before we all were supposed to depart for our respective colleges he was brutally killed by his girlfriend’s baby father!  

The story was that he was totally blind sided by the fact that this woman had a boyfriend who has in jail. All that knew him knew that if he knew about the boyfriend in jail, he wouldn’t have started a relationship with her. And she didn’t even have the decency to share this information with him either. He was caught at her apartment at the wrong time; her boyfriend went into a jealous rage and stabbed him numerous times, killing him. I’m sure he felt he was doing nothing wrong at the time by dating this woman… in his mind he was there simply spending time with his girlfriend… her baby father saw it differently and the rest is tragic history.

Everyone in this situation had choices. My high school friend didn’t have to date this woman with 2 kids and an angry baby daddy and stuck to girls his own age and caliber. He made the choice to date her.

His girlfriend could’ve told him what he was getting involved with and given him an opportunity to make an educated decision on his involvement with her. She chose not tell him that she had a man in jail and he was coming out soon.

Her baby daddy didn’t have to kill him. He chose to take someone’s life because of his cheating girlfriend and go right back to the place that would keep him away from her and his kids.

The list of choices goes on. But someone made the wrong one… an unchanging choice. The repercussions are endless, not only for the family of the victim, but for the criminal and the woman and children involved. I wonder what ever happened to them. Did this event define their lives? Did they learn and grow or did they suppress and fester? Was his innocent life sacrificed for some greater good that the killer, woman or children would benefit from? We’ll never know.

To this day, the death of my friend pops up in my head every now and again, especially in the summer. Every summer, without fail there is a heart wrenching story about a promising college bound student who needlessly lost their life in some urban area in NYC.

No matter what kind of situation you find yourself in, choices are always present and the smallest choice can have the biggest repercussions.

Long Time No Blog....

New Blog posts coming soon......

Book Review: The Kid, by Sapphire

I recently finished reading The Kid by Sapphire, which is the continuation to PUSH.  The Kid picks up about nine years later.  Precious is raising her son Abdul, Mongo her daughter seems to have died? Not sure, that was never clarified.

Precious’ HIV got the best of her, leaving Abdul orphaned and thrusted into the foster care system.  The nine years that Precious did have with her son, she showered him with love and affection that she never received. She did an awesome job about teaching him life lessons, the importance of education and self reliance and she provided a strong foundation which made him very ambitious and goal oriented. At first, I was having difficulty understanding Abdul’s speech, but after a while, I got used to his ebonics.  Thankfully, his speech improved as her got older.

This book is chock full of messages surrounding social issues, psychological issues and identity issues.  The social services system for children in NYC is extremely flawed and we get a first hand depiction of how this flawed system can impact and destroy an innocent child’s life.  As a jaded and sheltered nine year old he got caught up in a cycle of abuse. Abdul was neglected and abused in a foster home, hospitalized for being brutally beaten by another child, and he lost his identity.  He then was placed in a catholic boarding school for boys where he was again abused. Abuse became such a major part of his life that he came to think it was normal; he then became an abuser, not taking responsibility for his actions. 

After being kicked out of the catholic school, he was placed in his great grandmother’s care. By then Abdul, was already old enough to make his own moves and come and go as he pleased. Not embracing life with his great grandmother, he eventually left and found himself homeless and navigating through the streets of life trying to follow his dreams of professional dancing.

At times, the book did get confusing, because Abdul was a daydreamer. It was hard to tell what was really happening and what was a dream.

Basically, I did like the story that Sapphire told about Abdul, but I wasn’t expecting it at all. After reading Push and watching the movie Precious, I didn’t think that life would get any worse for them, but The Kid continued the legacy of sorrow in a way I never would have imagined.

I wasn’t pleased with the ending at all. I would’ve liked to see Abdul get to the peaceful place he’d been longing for. Sapphire did leave the story open for that to eventually happen, but it’s not known whether or not she will continue a third installment. If she does, I would certainly read it, not because I enjoy reading about other people’s sorrows, but because I’m completely invested now.  I have to know how this young man’s story ends!

Unconditional Love is UnRealistic

There used to be a time that whenever I heard the term unconditional love I would romanticize it and think “Wow… he said he loves her unconditionally… That must feel  amazing.”  That was the much younger and naïve version of me, that really didn’t think about the implications of that statement.

Honestly, I find it very hard to love someone unconditionally.  If we are to set standards for ourselves and hold ourselves accountable to those standards as well as our partners, how can anything be unconditional?  There have to be conditions, otherwise you will fall for everything that is served up to you.  Our partners are a clear reflection of how we see and feel about ourselves.

In my twenties, I took pride in the fact that I loved first and asked questions later. Gave love freely no matter what.  I claimed to be an unconditional lover; loving infinitely, beyond measure.  I was being reckless and naïve. That had more to do with low-self esteem rather than unconditional love. A lot of people fail to make that differentiation.

Are you claiming to love unconditionally OR are you just loving the idea of love?

I’m certainly not trying to take the romance out of love nor am I purposely trying to be a cynic. But let’s face it, in this day and age love and relationships have become very risky.  I find nothing wrong with setting standards and a threshold for bullshit.  I find nothing wrong with stating at the very beginning of the relationship “I expect this, that and the third and if those things are not met or if I get to a point that I realize that you’ve misrepresented yourself to me, I’m going to have to end our relationship.”

Standards vary from woman to woman and even vary from culture to culture.  For me, there are basic standards.  I expect my man to treat me and my daughter right. I expect for him NOT to physically and emotionally abuse me.  I expect him to be faithful to me.  I expect for him to be gainfully employed.  I expect for him to have some moral fibers running through him and I expect him to take his health and wellness seriously.  Again, these are basic.  Keeping in mind that I wouldn’t put expectations on someone that I wouldn’t be able to live up to myself. 

I know that there are some people that feel that they do love their mates unconditionally regardless of what I’m saying in this post, which is commendable.   Then that means you will love them through the good, obviously, and the bad; and I’m not talking about them losing a job or some financial hardship, I’m talking about the REAL bad. Will you love them even if they started to treat you poorly? If they cheated? If they committed a crime and got sent to prison, would you still be there loving them?  Having no conditions puts you in danger of facing those very things or worse.

In my opinion, there is no such thing as unconditional love. Love is earned.  How?  By meeting the conditions of your partner.  And even after 10, 20 years together those conditions should still hold true.  Unconditional love is reserved for your children.

Interracial Dating... used to correct the dating imbalance?

Yesterday, on my lunch hour, I walked by the Hudson News store and decided to go in and see what September issues were interesting.  The Essence magazine caught my eye, one reason because my ultimate hair crush, Tracee Ellis Ross is on the cover, but also one of the cover lines really made my cringe!  It said, "Is Marriage Just For White People"; the shock value of that line alone was enough for me to grab that mag off of the shelf and stomp over to the counter and pay for it.  In my head, I'm thinking... Is marriage just for white people? Umph... I gotta see what this article is all about... assholes. LOL!

As it turns out, Is Marriage Just For White People is the title of a book written by Stanford Law School Professor Ralph Richard Banks. Yes, he's a black man, and as I read the article, I couldn't stop thinking about the title. Why would someone pick that title for their book?  Of course marriage isn't just for white people!  I was pissed. 

According to Banks' book, the most unmarried people are african americans and the numbers of unmarried african americans are rising amongst the middle and upper classes. College educated black women are more than likely not to marry than white women. In the case of men, white men are marrying twice as much as african american men as well.  So that's where the book title comes from? Fine. But me being the hopeless romantic and believer in love and marriage, I still don't agree with that title. There is still hope for lasting marriage in the black community.

One of the main points of Banks' book states that black women need to date outside of their race instead of limiting themselves to just black men.  Why? Because we are in short supply of successful black men and the black men who are deemed successful  know that they are a hot commodity and use that fact as leverage to dictate the terms of relationships, which usually entail sex with no commitment. Forcing black women to basically fight for these "successful" black men and accept their bad behavior.  Banks feels that if more black women date outside the race, this will force the successful black men to come correct and commit to black women.  Really? I don't think so.

In my opinion there are alot of holes in that theory.  First, whats considered to be successful varies from woman to woman. Second, the successful black man that Banks is talking about is not only dating black women, he's dating latinas, asians, whites; he doesn't limit himself. So, why would he even be moved to come correct and commit just because black women are dating outside the race? He could care less, he'll just wife up a white woman when he's ready to commit.  A successful black man doesn't always mean making a six figure salary, driving a nice car and living in a nice home. There are plenty of successful black men out there who are educated via college or trade school, working good jobs, providing, protecting and being faithful to their families. That, in my eyes, is successful too, considering all the obstacles they go through on a daily basis.

There are so many branches to this topic; I can truly go on and on but I just wanted to address that article and see if anyone else has read it.  I don't find anything wrong with black women dating outside the race, but I really don't think that will help the imbalance in relationships between black men and women.

How do you feel about Banks' theory?

Passing the Baton

Do you notice that your life and your friends’ lives are running parallel?  You break up with your boyfriend and then one month later your best friend is breaking up with her boyfriend.  Okay, sometimes it may not be so cut and dry or the ripple effect may not be so quick, but it seems that people in the same social circles seem to have similar journeys, but just at different times.  

It puts me in mind of a relay race and passing the baton.  The baton represents the journey that’s being passed on from friend to friend at different points in the race.

When I went through a time in my life where I started to put myself first and started doing things for me and my betterment, it was a time of real enlightment for me.  My self-esteem improved and I re-gained all the self-worth that I lost. So when my girlfriend went through a similar period, I was easily able to relate and help her. I was sorry that she even had to go through such personal turmoil, but at the same time it felt good to be able to be there for my dear friend and see her come into her own and finally do something for herself.

Passing the baton is not such a bad thing. At first, it may seem like we’re passing on trials and tribulations, but in actuality we’re passing on priceless experiences and knowledge that will go on and on.

Introduction - What you got to say?

I started this blog because I want to be able to share my thoughts, insights and my all around musings with the rest of the world.  There is no structure, rhyme or reason. I will be posting writing pieces, opinion articles, photos and anything that is relevant and appropriate to share.

Your comments are welcomed and appreciated.

I hope you enjoy.

Martine