Monday, July 07, 2008 

Commander Log - Stardate 61981.4: Neophyte

So hard, so hard
So hard to be a Delta
It's so hard, so hard
To be a Delta,
So hard, so hard
To be a D-S-T
I'm tellin' ya honey!
- Delta Chant





On April 26, 2008 Twenty Timeless Shades of Essence crossed into Delta sisterhood! A few of us are pictured above. (That's me, third from the left.)

The pledge period was an amazing, educational and exhausting experience. Oh, but how I am enjoying the sisterhood! To be linked to so many powerful, spiritual, and positive Black women is awe-inspiring. The feelings of love and support are overwhelming sometimes but very welcome. As a Neophyte I have a lot to learn, but I am excited to spend the rest of my life doing it.

11:37 AM | |

Sunday, March 02, 2008 

Commander Log - Stardate 61635.1: Girl Status

Life is precious baby, love is so rare
I could take the breakup if U say that U care
He had 2 run away, his pride was 2 strong
It started raining, baby, the birds were gone, oh
- Prince

I try to live a life of reflection; paying attention to what is happening / has happened so I can learn from my (and others) mistakes. February 2008 has been a month I will remember. I found out, toward the end of last month, that I - am - a - girl.

Now I know you are saying to yourself, "She just found that out?" See, I have for many years thought of myself as a Woman - a Queen even. Not a girl. But over the last two weeks I have come to realize I've got some girl tendencies. A woman, while she likes compliments does not need them. She is confident in who she is, how she looks and how she carries herself. Well, the carries herself is the Queen coming out. Anyway... women do not dress to get the attention of men - they wear clothes that make them look and feel wonderful. Their clothes fit, no matter what size they need to purchase, and are comfortable as well as attractive. Women wear shoes that are BAD but they must also not hurt because every woman knows, painful ain't cute. (If the shoes hurt too much it doesn't matter how fierce they are, I can't walk in 'em and they aren't worth anything sitting in my closet.)

I have prided myself on being a woman. Not to be confused, I do want and need a man in my life - MY man. No correction - MY husband, but until he arrives I can do on my own. If a man compliments me in public I smile and say "thank you" as I continue on. I do not look for compliments. I do not go out to the grocery store, gym, mall, church or comedy club looking to be complimented and dressing to get attention. I just do me.

I have effectively convinced myself I am not one of those silly girls who is fishing for or craving the attention of men. However, on my recent trip home I found myself in straight girl mode. I mean blushing, smiling, giggling, and flirting FULL GIRL MODE. I even still blush now when I think about the encounter.

First before I go into detail about the encounter let me say that whenever I go home I get way more attention from men than I do in my current habitat. Thank God for southern men who like their women with some meat on them! If it's summer when I hit St. Louis, then I know I'm going to get compliments on my thick, smooth legs. If it's winter then men are going to comment on my high heeled boots and nicely filled out jeans. So I am braced - for lack of a better word - when I go home. (It also probably helps that I smile a lot when I'm home.)

So this trip home was no different. I actually started getting looks of interest in the Denver airport, but when I got off the plane in St. Louis from baggage claim to the hotel front desk, a sista was feeling appreciated. Then I met - him. More accurately I became reacquainted with him again. Him is my very first boyfriend - Michael.

Michael and I dated when we didn't even know what dating was. I was 12 and he was 14. We had known each other for about a year prior to becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. (I had dated his friend and he dated my friend.) Those were the days of riding your bike to each other's house and sitting on the porch talking for hours in groups of no less than 4 and up to 10. Or your parents would offer to take you and your friends to the amusement park, or some tourist park, or each other's little league games, or the skating rink because "Isn't it cute? They like boys/girls now." That's when Michael and I dated. And we were in love. Awwww...

Needless to say we broke up. I don't remember why but he has a vivid recollection of where, when, why and how. I went on to high school and so did he. I left for college; he stayed in St. Louis and went to school. I never saw him again until two weeks ago.

Michael has intermittently stayed in contact with my uncles. At one time he even worked with my oldest uncle, so he was able to get an update on me. This time when I was home he asked a female friend of my youngest uncle to see if it were okay for her to give him my number. (How cute is that?! See I'm blushing again.) He called me that Saturday night and left a message. On Sunday morning he called back and we talked for over an hour. During the conversation he informed me when, how, why, and where we broke up, how he took it, and how he still hasn't gotten over me. A story that we both laughed at so hard we cried! Then he agreed to meet me at the nursing home so he could see me and my grandmother who he had not seen in over 25 years. (25 years! Oh, gawd - we're that old?!) Yeah, I told him not to say that again - the 25 years part.

We met a few hours later at my grandmother's nursing home. When he arrived he called me and I walked to the lobby to meet him. I have never seen any grown man's face, not related to me by blood, light up the way his did when he saw me for the first time in so many years. And by the way I'm smiling as I write this, I'm pretty sure my face reflected the same light. (As I walked around the corner I remember hearing the receptionist asking him who was he waiting on and then saying "Oh, you're meeting this pretty lady" as I got caught up in his arms.)

We went into the common room where he spoke with my grandmother and I reminded her who he was. We spent three hours talking and catching up. The whole three hours were peppered with his saying how beautiful I am, how I look the same, smile the same, laugh the same, walk the same. At one point he even called a friend who had been around when we dated to tell him he "was sitting next to Tonee. *pause* She looks good. She's wearing four inch heels and what's a woman who isn't wearing heels". The whole time he was looking at me and smiling this bright, boyish smile. (Michael gave me the phone and I talked to Richard for a few minutes also.)

When my grandmother went to listen to the minister who had come to provide a sermon for the residents, Michael and I went to the other side of the room to talk. He asked about my boyfriend and when I told him I was single he was speechless. We spent the time smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. Michael spoke about how devoted he was to me and how I should be the mother of his children. There was a couple sitting across from us. The wife is a resident and her husband comes to visit her. He was feeding her and sitting next to her with his arm around her. Michael was captivated by them. He kept saying "Tonee that's going to be us. We'll be 80 and I'll still be calling you 'baby'. Feeding you and holding you close." Eventually he had to go so we said goodbye and planned to see each other the next day.

While we did speak briefly later that night, we did not see each other the next day. So I left St. Louis without seeing or speaking to him again. He had said before we saw each other that he needed to see me so he could "get this out of my system." I responded "What if it doesn't work?" I don't think it worked. He didn't have an answer then. And I don't think he has an answer now. And I'm still blushing - like a girl.

10:22 PM | |

Friday, February 15, 2008 

Commander Log - Stardate 61589.7: Vacation

Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the crowd
Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack
I don't care if we never get back
- Jack Norworth

I am currently sitting in the lobby of the Hilton at the Ballpark in downtown St. Louis. I decided to take two days off and go on an extended weekend visit home for the President's Day weekend. I sooooo needed the vacation. And right now I'm sitting in the lobby watching lots of people checking in and meeting up, while I wait for my room to be cleaned. See I slept in today so housekeeping couldn't get in until I finally left for lunch around 2pm. Now I'm just waiting to get back into my room and making use of the free WiFi from the Starbucks in the lobby.

There appears to be some kind of convention or competition going on here. There are large groups (10 or more) of white kids meeting up. One little girl is sitting 10 feet away from me playing a... what do you call those things with the keys and bellows... accordian! Another little girl is next to her playing the flute and another the violin. I've seen costumes with large, full skirts and beading and sequins so it seems to be some kind of Irish / riverdance / jig-a-ma-bob convention. Oh, wait now all 10 of them have pulled out instruments and are playing (and it ain't even the same song!) What I can't believe is how the parents of the children are allowing them to pull out their instruments and proceed to practice in a full lobby where people, like myself, are working on their laptops.

Next to that group seems to be a young, Black band. I only know they're a band because one brother, with some serious locs down to his butt, is holding a keyboard. His band mate is wearing a lime green polo, collar up, matching satin/silk tie, and requisite stunner shades. There are a few young ladies with them who I estimate to be the vocalists.

Anyway, I am enjoying the much needed rest. Unlike when I usually come home, this time I rented a vehicle and booked a hotel room because I just wanted to be able to relax and have some me time. My family thinks it's because I'm "big ballin" now but I got a really good deal - I used frequent flyer miles for my plane ticket and booked the hotel and car online using priceline.com. It was my first time and your girl scored! I got a car for $15 a day and a room for $45 a night. When I checked into the room I saw on the door placard that the room's normal rate is $299 a night. Say what?!

I needed this weekend to just rejuvenate myself. I am in my second semester of seminary, the second half of my first year as an Assistant Principal, and my roommate and I are not getting along to say the least. That's a whole-nother post but in case I never feel like writing about it, suffice it to say he is moving out by the 29th and I can't wait. So this is my big woo-saa (is that how you spell it?) moment before I jump in and finish the rest of the school year. I'm using this time to recharge my battery, catch up on some homework, and get a jump on some things that are looming on the horizon.

3:15 PM | |

Sunday, January 06, 2008 

Commander Log - Stardate 61480.1

If God had a face what would it look like
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints and all the prophets
- Joan Osbourne

Today started a new era in my church's history. The ninth pastor took over his duties and preached both services. (Technically he is still pastor-elect.) Now normally I don't stay for both services and I don't sing in the choir, but today I did both because I was so excited about having him here.

Exactly two years ago, the eighth pastor announced his retirement at the end of 2006. He had been pastor for twenty-eight years. We held a huge retirement celebration for him that culminated in January of 2007. Around October 2006, we began the arduous task of looking for a new pastor. Many people, myself included, complained that the leadership waited too long to start the process as we would be without a pastor for a time. And sure enough, it took us over fourteen months to complete the process and fill the position.

During the fourteen plus months my good friend and assistant to the prior pastor served as the senior clergy in charge (the chairman of the deacon board was the top person in charge), and although she did an excellent job as usual, many people were distressed that we did not have an actual pastor. Personally, I wasn't all that concerned.

Not until recently did I figure out why I wasn't concerned. As great as the pastor emeritus was, he wasn't MY pastor. I didn't feel like I could go to him personally for spiritual counseling, I didn't feel like he addressed my spiritual needs, and I didn't feel like he was particularly interested in me as an individual. Under him the youth and young adult ministries dried up and practically died (actually there was never a young adult ministry). So in reality I had been without a pastor for over nine years, not just one. I came to this realization this past fall during my first semester in seminary. I had to take a class in spiritual formation and it really opened my eyes to what has been missing since I first joined my church.

Now with the new pastor I am excited that things will change. As we went through the interview process he has repeatedly made it clear that his first priority is pastoral care; he wants to know us and become part of our families. He has a passion for youth and young adult ministry, and he is all about spiritual formation (the purposeful continued development of individuals' relationship with and understanding of God). I am excited for this next stage in my church's life; but even more than that I am even more pumped for what God is about to reveal in my life.

7:26 PM | |

Tuesday, January 01, 2008 

Commander Log - Stardate 61466

Now I see the importance of history
Why people be in the mess that they be
Many journeys to freedom made in vain
By brothers on the corner playin' ghetto games
I ask you Lord why you enlightened me
Without the enlightment of all my folks
He said cuz I set myself on a quest for truth
And He was there to quench my thirst
But I am still thirsty...
- Arrested Development

Welcome to 2008!

Hello. Allow me to reintroduce myself - I am the commander of this station. I have been gone quite awhile on a new assignment. Well, actually two new assignments... or is it three? Suffice it to say I've been busy. Deep undercover busy. and my field logs have gotten way backlogged.

I thought the purpose of doing command reports was to inform the review committee of my exploits. So when things got hectic I thought, well, the committee isn't really paying attention and it would be one less thing on my to do list. But now I realize that not doing my log subjects me to major stress from holding in all my thoughts. And as Jack Bauer and Sydney Bristow can attest, additional stress while undercover can make an agent (or commander such as myself) volatile.

So the commander is back and I will be submitting back logs of my missions for committee review. I look forward to reading any and all addenda.

Happy New year! May the grace of God cover you and blessings abound for you in the new year!

4:30 PM | |

Friday, July 27, 2007 

I'm Back!

Talking to you, it's your son Father
I can't believe all the things
We have done to each other
The problem I find
In all my years the danger is high
Though your love is near
So what can be done to heal each other
I hold my head up high to ease the pain
But quite frankly lord
I don't know how much more this world can take
Yes we truly need more love for each other
Lord it's me, it's your son
Trying to take a stand for peace
Like your other one
Send us your love
Cause we need each other
Mmmmm
We need, we truly need each other
-Kem

Okay for real... it's August?! The last time I blogged was... oh my, January. Why is time speeding up?

The latest: I just got back from Las Vegas. It was my second vacation this month. I went with my sista-friend, her son and his basketball team for a tournament (The Main Event). We were there for six days. Too many days, too many teenagers, too many personalities (adult), too many smokers. However, it was a fun trip most of the time. The team didn't do as well as we'd like but it was fun hanging out with twelve 15 year old boys. (Who can understand what goes on in their heads?!) And my nephew is now known for having not only a cool mom but a cool aunt too!

Two weeks prior to that I was in St. Louis visiting the family. That was the relaxing vacation. Sleeping in and doing whatever I felt like. I even learned a new workout that I want to continue - boxing! My youngest uncle took me to the YMCA with him to workout (he's been my sports trainer all of my life so hanging at the gym/court/field is what we do). He does a boxing class 2-3 times a week, then hits the steam room and jacuzzi. Two and a half / three hours at the gym - I'm in heaven!

When I agreed to go with him I thought it was like a kickboxing aerobic class. But when we got there I found out it was a "wrap your hands and put on the gloves" boxing class. We weren't in a ring but we did three minute rounds with a trainer using punch mitts. I had to throw punches according to where and how he held his hands. I had to throw jabs, hooks, uppercuts, power punches and combinations. All while chasing, retreating and/or being leaned on. I have a new respect for fighters. It was a workout! And I wasn't even getting hit back! Now I'm looking for the same kind of class here. I have to get the right equipment though because I hurt my left hand punching without being wrapped under the gloves (I had to use the Y's equipment and there were no hand wraps).

I also got to spend a lot of time with my little brother. It turns out he lives half a block down from my uncle (who I stayed with this time). We sat and talked, went to breakfast and even met our father for lunch one day. (My dad was very happy to see us together.) He's planning to visit me when his season is over. One thing that did surprise me, he's intent on my having a baby! I mean he mentions it almost every hour!

So here it is... my summer is over. I actually return to work Monday. Earlier than normal because this year I'm not teaching. I will be the assistant principal! New responsibilities, new headaches, new adventures. Oh and I'm also starting seminary in August. I'm going to have a lot to say.

10:11 PM | |

Sunday, January 21, 2007 

Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow

Good hair means curls and waves
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
It's time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get it on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey
If it's not what's on your head
And it's what's underneath then say HEY....
- India Aire


Friday night I went to a poetry set because a friend (Phoenix - her stage name) had asked me to come and support her reading as a guest poet. I've been to this poetry venue (The Speakout) before because another good friend and ex-colleague (Say Yo - her stage name) is part of the troupe that puts it on. But anyway I did go specifically to be a comforting face in the crowd as my friend did her piece about her natural hair journey. And it was powerful.

Now you may or may not have noticed that the hairstyle on my avatar has changed in the last few months. About a year ago I started seriously contemplating loc'n my hair. So I stopped going to the beauty salon for relaxers and got my hair braided. I wore braided extensions for over a year, then in August tried to start locs by braiding my own hair. I went to an African-born loctician/braider and she said I could start locs without cutting the relaxed part of my hair. She just braided it and told me not to wash it for as long as I can stand it to allow the hair to loc. Yeah, that didn't work.

In September Say Yo introduced me to Phoenix at a poetry set because she knew I had decided to loc. At the time I took Phoenix's contact info because I knew he was moving out here and he would need a loctician. In October I set up an appointment for him and decided to get a consult myself. Phoenix did some test locs and we set an appointment for two weeks later for her to do my whole head.

So for a little over two months now I've had starter locs. She cut my hair, which was fine with me, and I've got little spikes. Except my spikes haven't stayed spikey as long as I'd like. My hair is growing fast (it's always grown fast) and my little spikes are starting to lay down. But I love it! Unfortunately I haven't taken any pictures yet (Phoenix and her husband take pictures each time I go for a retightening) so I can't post them. But I will take some soon because I realize I want to document each stage and look.

As excited as I am about my hair, I was not prepared for the reactions and presumptions that come along with it. When I made the decision to loc it I wasn't making any political statement. I like my hair. I liked my hair. I liked my hair straight. I liked my hair curly (yes, I did the "jheri curl" thang...). I liked my hair braided. My hair is thick. It grows fast. It has an unusual color that you'd have to mix 4-5 different bottles together to get. It's dark brown, light brown, red, blond, and (now) grey all at the same time depending on which section/strand you're looking at. I liked it up. I liked it medium. I liked it bobbed. I liked it long. I liked it with a ponytail piece. I liked it short. I liked it asymmetrical (all hail the Prince!)

But mostly I like it low maintenance. I found myself returning at least once a year to braids. Braids I didn't have to curl in the morning. Braids I could wash and go. Braids I could wear up, down. Braids I could swim in, hoop in, lift weights in, go to work in, go to church in, travel in and out of the country in. And then I met two women who had locs and guess what?! They looked like braids! At least in their width, length and versatility. And more importantly they didn't spend 10 hours getting them done every 4-5 months and 15 hours taking them out (to get them redone). That's how I made my decision. I wasn't saying relaxers, weaves, wigs, ponytails were bad. I'm just saying I don't want to do them anymore.

But there are a lot of people who put their agendas on others. And I've apparently switched sides. My best sista-friend hates it. She calls 'em naps (on me and everyone else) as an insult. She can't understand why someone whose hair is beautiful straight would not want to straighten it. (Uh... cuz I don't wanna.) From my biological family in St. Louis only my uncle has seen it. His comment was "You doing something different with your hair again." (But that's him; if I'm happy, he's ecstatic.) The first day I returned to work one of the older ladies, one of the secretaries, asked me "Why you got those pickaninny curls in yo head?" (Just smile T, she old). My students don't say anything except the occassional question of "You got twists, Ms.?" (No, I'm loc'n my hair.) People at church say my face looks better, "You can see more of your face, babee. You sure are pretty." (What you thought I was ugly before?!) Strangers smile at me and walk over to make complements, "I just had to come say something to such a beautiful, Black woman!" (Uh... ok...)

People do look at me differently. I got a standing ovation at the poetry set from the poet group because Say Yo reminded them I had kicked it with them one weekend and now I'm loc'd and free! Wow! I did not know it was that serious. I understand and empathize that some people choose locs because of a stronger sense of ancestry and beliefs. (Quiet as it's kept, when I wore braids in the corporate world, a part of me was saying "You have to accept it because I'm that good. And in case you forgot, I dont' know how you could, but I'm Black Woman.") And I think my biggest challenge will be facing my southern, color-struck family when I go home this summer (and when my mom comes to visit this spring), but overall it's just my hair. I'm still me. I still eat meat. I still curse when I get too upset to censor myself. I still get my (acrylic) nails done. I still have bourgeoisie tendencies (as well as hood-rat). I am not my hair.

But I love my hair. And I acknowledge that loc'n it has made me realize just that... I am not my hair. But MY hair is beautiful.

To see Phoenix's piece click here.

5:10 PM | |

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