The Cyclical Discussion of Blaming Single Mothers for being Single Mothers

I know the title is a mouthful, but it is what it is.  I was on Essence.com, and read an article about the 72 percent unwed black mothers statistic and thought, geez, another article on why I'm a fuck up. Granted, this particular article wasn't as inflammatory as some others that I have read in the past, it just irritated me be being force-fed a fate for myself and my child that has not happened yet.

Apparently my son is more likely to end up in prison, perform poorly in school, use drugs, be poor as an adult and have his own children out of wedlock.  Great.  Thanks.  As if I didn't have anything else to worry about on top of finding a sitter to watch my kid after 6pm versus letting a 9 year old come home and stay in the apartment for the few hours before I return home from work.  I suppose having a husband would alleviate those problems huh? (I should note that I am not against marriage.  A majority of my friends are in loving marriages as I type, however I must also note that I am in my mid-30s and never been on the receiving end of the love that I have bestowed to some of the men in my past.  My problem, my issue of course, understood.  But end of the world?  Really?)

Basically I'm trying to look at this from a practical standpoint.  Remember those friends of mine who are in loving marriages... well the shit is hard too (even more so when I think about the fact that any decision has to be compromised with another adult).  The scheduling, the getting everything done in a timely manner, the career (since it's damn near mandatory to live in a 2-paycheck home in this economy), the loans (mortgage and college), establishing savings (for retirement, your child's education, your own if you want to continue your education), etc.

Basically (there's that word again), the grass isn't greener on either side, with brown patches sprinkled every couple of feet, so instead of articles constantly being written about how much I done screwed up for getting knocked up, how about some encouragement?  How about people - who decide to give their unsolicited opinion regarding my boy's deadbeat daddy with that 'how could you' look in their eyes step off?  What about the fact that my son's dad isn't even black (that stumps a lotta people when they find this out) - oh, you thought that us unwed, single black women only got knocked up by rolling stone black man?  I experience verbal diarrhea on purpose to show that this "issue" is neither black or white.  Because my boy, he's a good  student for the most part.  My boy is respectful, and if I even sense that he isn't behaving appropriately he gets a raised eyebrow and he corrects his behavior immediately.  My boy is still in that 'girls are yucky' state so I can't comment on whether he will be sprinkling his seed (I hate the use of that word - seed - by the way) and be a repeat of the absentee Y chromosome that helped create him. My boy doesn't like to spend his money (mine, well he's cool with that, until I give him the aforementioned 'eyebrow' again), because I gave him a nice little lesson when he wanted to purchase every toy in Target - I asked him how much of his saved money was he willing to spend in order to get those toys.  He cried, thought about it, cried some more, and left Target- toy-less.  My boy is my boy and even though I know I cannot teach him how to be a man, I can teach him how to be a good person.  Is he being short changed?  In some ways, yes.  But what am I supposed to do then, sit back and let him raise himself?  (I would think that those are the kids who are likely to end up in prison and use drugs)

I also share all of this to say that my son is not the exception.  I believe he is one of many- many of whom I know.  And I figure if there are statistics out there ready of willing to show me how much I'm a fuck up for having an unplanned child out of wedlock, there have got to be some statistics out there that show that despite the absence of a two-parent childhood, one can rise about that and go beyond even one's own expectations... right President Obama?

Inspiration in the most unlikely of places...

... yep, I can't believe I'm about to admit this myself, but I was inspired by something that I saw on (clearing my throat): B-E-(friggin)-T.

Now I will admit that I did not see this live, but I received a link to a performance to my Twitter handle for a performance of Four Women, the powerful song by Nina Simone.  I have been acquainted with this song for I don't even know how long, and my love for the spirit and passion and voice of Nina Simone is borderline obsessive so I really wasn't expecting anyone in the current generation of music to give a damn about her music much less perform it the way it's supposed to be performed.  But then I was surprised, not so much by these performers, who I have been a fan of for many years (I'm talking Kelly Price, Marsha Ambrosius, Jill Scott and Ledisi - this woman's voice gives me chills all the time!), but by BET who, if they had their own button on my remote control, well the button would have dust on it because... well, that's a whole other post.  Anyway, I share this with the 3 people out there who read my ramblings, lol, and I hope you enjoy.  I was feeling real low today, and this somehow lifted my spirits.

BET Videos

          

I hate romance novels

I will admit, I had a lot of them, which means I've read a lot of them, but my affinity for them was always cyclical - I would read 2 books in a week for months, and then go months without reading any of them.  Why?  Because I would always get to the point where I would feel like stir fried shit before I even finished the epilogue.

Don't get me wrong - I love that people have love, fall in love, etc, etc.  Heck, I'm even going to a wedding tomorrow, and I love those (I love seeing my friends share their bliss with the rest of us out there).  But sometimes I get into a funk.  It's not jealously, because I'm gonna be real frank - I wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it, and even proclaimed to a friend of mine recently that I'm not equipped to be any man's wife (to which she immediately accused me of copping out, and to which I didn't deny), although I welcome being pleasantly surprised.

I guess I write all of this now, so late in the day (after having these thoughts marinate in my head all day) because I'm hoping that admitting that I am a mess when it comes to 'love' will somehow help me release that very deficiency into the universe and thus allow me to feel open and free enough to welcome said affliction.  Either that, or I'm nervous about attending another wedding dateless and knowing that all of the people who I already know are attending are attending with their significant others and I'm not looking forward to the "now we have to get you married" comments... or maybe it's just the sangria talking. 

Who knows. But what I do know is that romance novels are hazardous to my health.  Arriba, arriba!

Mean Girls... whatever

I just had to post/ rant about this.

I am 35 years old.  I'm a mom.  I'm well educated.  I work. I pay my bills. I do my thing just like millions of other folks out there maneuvering in a country full of economic and political upheaval, i.e. Important shit.  So why did a supposedly 'grown woman' feel the need to make fun of my hair yesterday? (lol and smh)

I was at a middle school orientation with my son.  We were broken down into groups for a tour and there was an interracial couple (the woman is Latina and the man Afr. American, which is not a big deal to me at all having been in the same situation and now raising a biracial child, anyway...) in our group, with their son.  All is well, and when the tour is over we all get into the elevator to leave, the couple is positioned right next to me.  I gave a nod and a smile (we'd chatted a little bit during the tour) and set my sights on stopping off at Mickey D's before heading home.  So then I hear the woman say to her man "Psst, look at her hair" and then she laughs.  And my immediate response was 1-eyebrow raise, and then 2- "Really?"

First of all, these folks were about in my age range, if not older.  Second, 'perdon chica, pero el pelo de tu esposo y tu hijo es mismo de mio' (in my broken Spanish I wrote 'Excuse me, but the hair of your husband and your child is the same as mine), and third, uhh, how old are you?  And fourth, 'screw you bia-tch because my hair is big and fabulous.

I found it really interesting that a grown woman would resort to that type of behavior as we were both at a school open house for our kids. And I also got irritated because there are still people who have an issue with big, curly, non-processed hair.  I've said it before and I'll say it again  - if my hair isn't grabbing small children, and as long as it's clean and there are no bugs hopping from my scalp to yours, step off (I actually wanted to write something a bit more vulgar, but I'm trying to live by example by taking the high road).  What is it with woman being so critical of other women?  I, personally, am so past all of that, but she instigated a flashback to those times when very few people (because a lot of kids were scared of me) bumped their heads on the kitchen sinks and came to school thinking that that day was a good day to f**k with me.  (Note: despite the previous line, I really am a nice person - but I'm also from the Bronx! lol!)

Product Big Up!

My name is Shak... and I am a recovering product junkie.

I didn't start out this way, but my hair is special in that it has split personality.  Sometimes, it wants shea butter.  Sometimes, it wants aloe.  Sometimes, it wants to be blown straight. Sometimes it says "ahh fugg it, we just gonna curly up and chill!"  As a result of such Sybil-like behavior I have had to sample various hair care and styling products over the years.

Now, I am not a big fan of straight hair.  Even when I was younger and had my hair permed, I would always style it so that it was big to the point where it would defeat the purpose of getting my hair chemically straightened.  So although I am a big: Cree Summer/ Freddie Different World Tracee Ellis Ross hair, there are times, when I feel like taming the beast.

Back in the day, I used to press with a curling iron, hot comb, flat iron, whatever.  Now, I will use a hair dryer and maybe even roller set under a hood dryer. So one day I went into a hair supply store and ask for a little advice on how to blow out my hair to an almost press-like state without perming it, and La Senorita pointed me to this:

Pantene Extra Straight Comb-in-Cream (keeps hair straighter for up to 18 hours).  Ok, so I used this thing a few times back when I was trying everything to change up my style.  It was also at a point when my multiple personality hair was PMSing.  Since I'd chopped off half my hair 6 months ago (and regained almost all of the length I cut back), my mop has been healthier than ever.  I've adopted a less is more attitude about products and have even gotten rid of a bunch of stuff.  I pressed my hair once in the past 6 months (and then immediately washed it out because I couldn't get with the flat hair look).  I even stopped using a blow dryer over the summer months, and the times when I have used a dryer recently, it's been once a week and on a medium heat setting.  So I got a lot of virgin hair on my head that been in protective styles - for the most part - for over 6 months.  Well, this weekend I did a quick wet and set and wanted to stretch my curls out a bit without applying any heat, and I saw the bottle of Pantene.  So I tried it.  And. I LIKED IT!  Now I'm in the second day of doing a braid set.  Today was a little scary because I haven't worn my hair out in months and wasn't sure if it would cooperate or not, but with the absence of humidity, my curly set mop stayed in place for the most part, and has gotten me a bit excited about doing something different from my usual protective styling, so thank you Pantene Extra Straight comb-in-cream for hooking a sista up.  Big ups!