African Girl in An American World

It's still the month of love, right? You know what good love makes you do? It makes you want to carry that feeling with you that that person gives you when you're not with them. You look for a reminder throughout the day of that person to bring a smile to your face or make your heart skip a beat. Some folks stalk Facebook profiles, go back 238 weeks on Instagram, heck go to their LinkedIn profiles and see what they were doing in 1999.  I just don't have time for that so I do the next best thing, I pick a ringtone. Music is life to me and I am a lyric person so a lot of thought goes into picking the perfect ringtone. There was Ledisi's "I Blame You" when I finally stuck my toe back in the dating pool and found someone to hang out with longer than a day or 2.  This one actually stuck and after a month of being a couple I went ahead and assigned the ringtone.  The lyrics were exactly what I was feeling and it was because of him that I was smiling more a...

I made it through another year's journey, God kept me here and for that I am grateful especially since I lost a dear friend this year and my dear cousin Jane lost her husband just weeks ago. Started off the year on a high note in love. Beautiful, soul stirring, get me on all levels love.  We had settled into a beautiful relationship and I just knew we were in it for the long haul. Then came the shattering of it all. I wasn't even mad. Just grateful I hadn't wasted years pouring into what would no longer be after just 6 months. Wished him well and sent him right along his merry way. I thanked him for the memories and appreciated the purpose he served. Cancer. Yeah, the year also started off with me being the chemo partner.  12 rounds and radiation. That chemo room taught me so much humility.  This thing does not discriminate.  I watched a couple that looked no older than 25.  He was the patient and she snuggled close on that chemo chair under a soft blanket...

I come from a place where AIDS was something unspoken of. Death was all around and it was obvious what it's cause was and yet silence.  People would give all kinds of explanations to save face.  Headache was a common one.  But even as a young kid in the early 90's, I knew people didn't die from headaches at such alarming rates.  Another was malaria which is a common illness where I am from but even that couldn't cover up the lie. I left my country in 1993 as a 17 year old when the epidemic was at it's genesis.  Years later as I listened to a friend terrified of going to see a doctor even though she was 5 months pregnant, I finally had an Aha moment.  I didn't understand why she was so terrified and was putting her child in jeopardy when she finally blurted out, "You weren't there! You didn't see what we saw. After you left people we know were dying every single day and I saw them wasting away."  It's true I wasn't there and I di...

Dear Black Girl, You have found yourself in a foreign land by your choice. You are an immigrant. A beautiful African girl on the cusp of womanhood in an American world. It is a land of opportunity and so much goodness will happen to you here.  You will grow leaps and bounds and find your footing here. I want to tell you that it won't always be beautiful.  You won't feel beautiful some days.  This land's view of beauty is not your country land's view of beauty.  They will make you question the very things about yourself that you find beautiful.  Your perfect nose will suddenly be called too broad, your hips will suddenly be called too wide and your sun kissed skin will suddenly be called too dark. This will confuse you terribly because this is the only beauty you've ever known.  The only beauty you have been surrounded by.  Up until now you have never heard anyone criticize things one cannot change.  Or so you thought. You will be...

I know many people named Grace.  It is quite a common name where I am from.  We had a Grace C, Grace P, Grace K, and Grace Z in my class alone. And for the longest time that's all it was for me, a name.  Well let's not forget the thing we said automatically before a meal in school and social settings too.  At home not so much for me.  We are a praying family now and went to Church every Sunday growing up, but family prayer was reserved for important events like right before a long trip and before a meal only when the people visiting and sharing a meal were regular grace sayers. What grace means has been on my mind lately.  Mostly how it is one of those words you know but don't really know until you experience it. I've been thinking about how much I didn't know about grace all my life.  Things happened that I can attribute to grace now but while they were happening I just saw them as another one of those things I survived and got through. So I...

It doesn't happen as often but it happens. This feeling of being in the middle of the ocean all alone and treading water. Sometimes someone leads me here and gets me good and comfortable then abruptly leaves. Other times I lead myself here and stay here until it is time to come to the shore again. It's never done willingly. I feel myself "going there" and can pull back and stay in the wonderful reality that is my life.  I'm not always fortunate enough to catch it in time the same way I am learning to catch when a migraine is coming and deterring it. I see changes in how I deal with it.  In the past I stayed there and and went under. I'd come undone and watch as I went deeper.  I'd eventually get tired and frantically find a life jacket or life ring to desperately hold on to till the raging thunder ran out of rain. These days I tread water and reflect.  I don't fight it.  I don't like being here but I know it's necessary. It is a par...

It happens to everyone.  That shiny brand new thing one day becomes dull and boring. It all fades away some days.  The beautifully manicured lawns you once admired on TV and on postcards beckoning you to come are glorious and divine to look at now that you live here but some days you long for the grass you saw outside your window growing up. This land of plenty and choices galore make you appreciate that you have a choice most days but some days you long for the simplicity that ONE thing brings. And when you voice your longing and say you miss home you are not met with empathy but instead by the dreaded "Why did you come here? Go home to your country." My younger self would go to that place full of anger and explanation but these days I have nothing.  I just don't have the energy. Yes, this is the land of the free and the home of the brave BUT I have a home.  I have made this my home but home will always be home.  Don't mistake that. Why do people do...