Community

Last night I had a dream that I was sitting around and some kid was saying something about Lesbians going to hell, and other stupid stuff, and I went to jump across the table and choke him, but just as I was about to reach his throat, this lesbian girl I met, grabbed my feet and pulled me back. When I told my friend about this she asked if I had been feeling the heterosexism strong lately, and of course my answer was YEAH! She said it might have something to do with me not being able to express my justifiable rage.

When I started writing this post, I was thinking that I needed a role model, when I do, but it's more than that I need a community. I'm so thankful for the blog world, but unfortunately most of my time isn't spent here. I'm in a new city, and I feel alone, I have no community. I'm an outsider in my own Black community, because I'm a lesbian, because I'm a feminist, shit because I open my damn mouth and let these things be known. There are some really nice people in my department, but no one I really connect with, and if there is a connection it only lasts to a certain point because they don't get everything, and I constantly feel like the other.
My feeling like this began when I realized that despite my effort I had become THAT girl. I'm the lesbian, feminist, northern girl. I was initially fooled in to some false sense of comfort because I was surrounded by Black people, and White people who at least got the way race plays out in society. I felt comfortable, but it didn't last, because I soon became aware of the fact that I didn't fit the “Black” mold. It's like they had their pre set mold of Black Female, and I don't fit it. Now don't get me wrong I like not fitting the mold, but there is so much more that comes along with not fitting in the mold. My experiences thus far, have given me more of a focus in my research; I'm writing two papers on different aspects of Black lesbian identity.
When I was home, I had my friends, I had support, I had outlets to a thriving Queer community, a train ride away and ready for me to explore, but as soon as I found it I had to move 900 miles away. I'm surrounded by people who just don't get me, and don't even have an idea about what if feels like to be young, Black, queer and female. I get so fucking tired of being the other, and having to qualify my queerness, it's like they have a check list of what a Black Lesbian is supposed to look, dress and act like, and I don't fit that either. I'm not a separatist by any means, but I just get tired of being THE lesbian. When I came to this program I thought everything was going to be better because I would no longer be in a situation where I was the only minority, but I forgot that being the triple threat/triple minority I'm almost never in a situation where I'm not the minority, but I know that there's a community out there, but I can't find it. I'm in the South, where I get excited when I hear someone speaking Spanish, I have no professor to go to and ask about what it's like being a Black lesbian in the ivory towers, and I’m alone. I'm stuck without a community to revitalize me, when the weight of being a Black Lesbian is too much, I have no one's house to go to, no parties, nothing. I come home get online, talk on the phone trying to block out the world that’s surrounding me, but ultimately I can’t ignore the fact that I’m stranded here by myself.

I found this one girl on MySpace and I sent her a message and asked her about the Black Lesbian community, here, and she answered me, but it’s a weird because I have a lil crush on her and I’m too much of a wimp to approach her to hangout, because when I’m around her I tend to lose all grasp of my social skills. She told me where some gay bars in town are that she goes to, but I have no one to go with and again, too much of a wimp to ask her to tag along with. When I’m home I have my friends, who would be more than willing to go with me, and support me in my pursuit of this girl, but here my “friends” don’t get me, and aren’t really of much help.

It’s times like this that I question my decision to come so far away from anyone I know. My family got together for a funeral last week and I realized how much I missed them too. I miss people who know me, or at least have some idea of what it feels like to be a Lesbian of Color in this world. I don’t know what to do, that’s enough wining for now.

TV Rants

I am addicted to TV, I admit that there are many shows which I am absolutely in love.

I am particularly in to Logo, I love this channel , it is no where near perfect but hey I LOVE IT! Anways they have this show called the clicklist, and they have the best in short film, and I recently watched an excellent short film it's called Brooklyn's Bridge to Jordan it was just AMAZING, you should go over watch and then vote for it because it's great.

Also if you happen to catch the show Heroes, you'll understand why I love it so.

And yes I am also one of those Grey's Anatomy people, who is very proud of O'Malley aka T.R. Knight, for coming out. However, I'm not so thrilled with Dr. Burke aka Isaiah Washington for his behavior and homophobic comment.




I am addicted to America's Next Top Model! I know I know I know, horrible, but hey at least it's not Flavor of Love. Anyways one of the most beautiful girls there is being told that she needs to lose a few and it's just making me mad. It makes me so mad that while Tyra speaks against saying that all women should be a certain size, she allows for healthy girls to be told that they're too big. AHHH

Look at her she's beautiful






Yes I am in Grad School and I am getting my work done, just before and after my shows, So don't judge me!

Okay back to work now :D

Loving Zanele

oooh how I'm in love with Zanele Muholi's pictures





















Thanks to An Unreasonable Woman for the links to more pics :D

Friends on the Block!!!!!

I don't know if you all have been watching my blog roll, but I had to give a special shout out two of my friends, who have finally joined the blogging world.
My best friend/Wife/forever will be referred to as my roommate created a blog check her out! Who's Latina like me

Also my hommie from Undergrad created a blog also check her out

La Oscuridad Necesaria.

They're great go over and show them some love!

the coming out process

Coming out to my friends alone has really taught me some lessons. Last night I came out to one of my best friends, she's the one that I've been most worried about telling. I love her and I know that she loves me but she's very conservative, and very naive. So last night as I tell her that I'm a lesbian, this is who I am it's not going to change, she gave me a halfway positive response. I told her that I was afraid that she'd think that I'd want to be with her, she said that she wouldn't think that. I was excited, at first we talk about things wouldn't change, and who this doesn't change our friendship. Then things started to go downhill, then she began to talk about this being a spirit that I can be delivered from, she spoke of me not being sure because I had only had one boyfriend, and I hadn't had a girlfriend yet. Then she spoke of me being a part of God's divine plan. I told her that I was sure, that I was at peace, that my relationship with God has not suffered, but she's unwilling to accept this. She didn't tell me that I was going to hell, so on that note it wasn't as bad as I thought it could have been, but it still hurt. That conversation hurt my heart, because as much as we talked and said things shouldn't change, I feel like it will. I feel like there will be a big rainbow colored elephant in the room. I guess the biggest disappointment was that even though I told myself that this conversation would not go well, deep down I really hoped that she would say, "I love you, things aren't going to change, you're my sister" I wanted her to ask me about my crush, who she now knew was a woman. But that didn't happen, rather than complete support, I got judgment, and her trying to convince me that I'm not a lesbian, I just needed to find the right guy. Sigh While on the one hand that situation didn't go as well and was generally disappointing, me coming out has allowed me to reconnect with another friend.

This one friend and I had at one point been very close, but we drifted away and we barely speak, and when we do it's not with any depth. This friend I always knew would be supportive, her mother's a lesbian and she was raised by her mom and her mom's long time partner. I recently came out to her and then we talked about everything, you know the typical coming out convo, "when did you know?" "Have you told your mother?” So right after this conversation with my other friend last night I IMed her and copied her the convo, and we talked, we laughed. She called me and I told her my drunken stories, and while I laughed with her I forgot about the disturbing convo I had with my other friend. She encouraged me to pursue my crush, and when I spoke with my crush today I called her back, and I feel like I've got my friend back.

So thus far coming out has gotten me closer to some friends and has caused a rift with another friend. So as my best friend reminded me today that my coming out experience has been better than 85% of other people (don't ask me where she got that figure), and all I can do right now is thank God that this has been my only negative response so far, and it wasn't even that bad. So Thank God and the coming out process continues...

Why I'm afraid to take out the gabage

I have about 3 trash bags in my kitchen that desperately need to be thrown out. Why don't I just take them out to the dumpster you ask? Well I keep forgetting to take them out during the day, and I am afraid to take them out at night. Why am I afraid? That’s another good question, well my dumpster is next to a nice dark alley, and I am a Black Woman in a predominantly white area. I'm afraid that some drunken white college guy will see me and think hey, I wonder what it's like to be with a black girl. I'm worried that some guy period will see me as an easy mark. I am afraid of being violated in my own home.
I get so mad when I think about all of this, because this is the reality of being a Black woman in this world. The reality of being a Black lesbian in this world is that I fear that the guy I work with who I sense is threatened by my sexuality will try to "change" me. Do I really think that I chill with a man who would rape me? Not really, but you can never truly be sure. Rapists don't wear signs on their heads saying "beware I like to rape women", so I'm left to live with this constant fear that at any moment, at any place, I can be raped. No where is truly safe, my grandmother was raped at a church function, when she was a teenager. My favorite professor/ mentor/ future wife, who doesn't know it yet, once told me that sexual assault is an act of terrorism against women. I really identified with that statement because it's true; the potential of being raped is something that all women are aware of. I don't know what it is about my dumpster that makes me more afraid then walking down the street to a friend's house, but I won't walk out there at night.
My fear was reinforced as I went to Take Back the Night and I heard the stories of so many women who had been violated by men, men the knew and men they didn't. It just reminded me that no one is safe. I wish I didn't know as many people as I do that had been sexually assaulted by men. I have a cousin, who was raped by an unknown stranger years ago and she has not been able to trust men since. That one night changed her life forever! What are we to do? As I write this I grow more and more frustrated because I don't have any answers. I don't know what to do to rectify this situation. I fear that this is just the burden that I and many like and unlike me must bear.

300 Million People

According to various news reports on Tuesday the 300th Million American will be born. So CNN.com asked people to send in memories of 1967 when we had just hit 200 million people. Now I am one of those people who love to hear about the Human Interest stories, so I eat this stuff up, but as I was reading the various stories, I began to get sick of reading about the good ol' days, how everything was great. Here are some of my favorites

In 1967, we believed that our ministers and police would not do any harm. Good jobs were everywhere for anyone who wanted to work. We were concerned about "hippies" and this Vietnam thing which seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Believe it or not, our world was pretty much like Mayberry and the Andy Griffith Show. But on the other hand, our world didn't have any non-white people. In our world at that time, we did not speak about when a man beat his wife or when some girl was forced to go to some back-door abortionist. The mentally ill were to be locked away and not seen.
Rick Lundeen, Galesburg, Illinois

Back in 1967, we could sleep at night with our doors unlocked and our cars unlocked, and our children were able to play out in the neighborhood or walk a mile to school without worrying about pedophiles, rapists and more. It was happier times in the 1960s. Most moms were at home manning the helm while dad was the breadwinner. Since moms have to go to work to help support the rising costs of raising a family, crime has gone up and morals are sinking ever so low.

Give me back the days of stay-at-home moms (until the children were in their early teens), and we would see less juvenile delinquency and crimes committed, and children would have better moral judgment. There is a definite lack of supervision by parents today because they are so overwhelmed with having to make ends meet and multi-tasking everything they do.

I think any stay-at-home moms, who have that luxury, should be given many accolades for doing the best thing they can for their family.
Shirley Cleaves, Punta Gorda, Florida

All the couples in our neighborhood in 1967 had the men working and the wives as full-time homemakers. Twenty homes on our one-block neighborhood with 60 some children.

Year 2006 -- All the children are married and all the young married couples I know have both the husband and wife working. This makes for a lot of babysitting by us grandparents and we love the babysitting. We can go home at night. We helped raise our older grandchildren and only have two young ones under 2 years old.

Traffic is 20 times worse in 2006 versus 1967. Expect traffic to be 10 times worse than now when 400 million is the population.
William Smith, Shoreview, Minnesota

Now don't get me wrong, I clearly have no idea of what life was like in 1967, I was born in 1984, but I no for sure it wasn't all great. I know all those stay at home moms didn't want to stay at home. I know all those moms didn't want to have all of those kids. I know that there were women being stopped from having children against their will. I know that many brown women did not get the luxury of staying at home. I know that the civil rights movement was still going on for a reason, I know that a year later when Dr. Martin Luther King jr. was assassinated, this went on to prove that everything wasn't so great. I know that two years prior Malcolm X was assassinated, and I know that four years prior Medgar Evers was assassinated and his killer wouldn't be arrested for another 30 years. I know that my grandmother who was currently the mother of 7 children, was feeling the burden of being poor, Black and woman in an abusive relationship. So excuse me if I'm not so nostalgic for the good ol' days of 1967.

Coming out to family

So I've been coming out to more and more of my friends, and with coming out to them, comes answering all the questions, which I could really care less about. So today I'm talking to one friend who I just came out to, I know she'd be cool, her mom's a lesbian and she was raised with her mom's long time partner. So she asked me the question everyone asks, Does your family know?
As I'm talking about telling my mom and the rest of my family, I realize that I have absolutely no motivation to tell my mom. My mom and I are getting closer, but I still keep up a wall with her. I don't talk about my romantic life, I never have. I didn't tell her why I broke up with my one and only boyfriend, I didn't tell her anything about our relationship, and I don't ask her for romantic advice. We just don't talk about these things, so as of right now as I sit more comfortable with my sexual orientation; I feel no push to tell her. The only push I feel to tell her, is because that's what you do when you come out, you tell your family and friends. Okay so my friends I felt compelled to come out too, because I talk to them about my romantic life and my crushes, so leaving out that the person I have a crush on is a woman, is a big deal. But when it comes to my family I just do not have the motivation. I've given myself a 2007 deadline, to come out, but I really don't feel it necessary. That's bad isn't it? I don't know what to do, advice is welcomed.

Politics of the grocery store

There has only been one person that has ever made me seriously consider becoming a vegetarian. It wasn't me Vegan of 12 years brother, or my many animal rights friends, but it was a speaker that came to my undergrad and told us that the reason that he's a vegan is in protest to the fact that you can not find any fresh vegetables in Black neighborhoods. That really blew my mind and I realized that he was right, unfortunately I don't have enough will power to turn down meat, I'm weak I know. But today as I went grocery shopping his statement came back to me and was confirmed.

I live blocks away from my current school, which like most college campuses the area right around the campus, is a nice very white area, and then a few blocks from that starts the hood. Anyways I've been going to the grocery store more in the hood, I liked it, and it reminded me of home. What I didn't like was how I could never find any fresh vegetables in good condition, all of them were on their way out. So I decided to go a few blocks in the other direction to the supermarket that's geared towards students at my new school, and when I walked in I heard the angels sing. It was amazing, the produce section is the first thing I saw and it was great. It was filled with beautiful fruits and vegetables; the whole entire store was decorated beautifully. As I walked the aisles I saw what I didn't in that other one, choice. I could pick up tons of different cheeses, and oils. It was great, I spent longer than I intended because everything was calling me.

My joy of food shopping was cut short with the realization that this supermarket was set up to keep the poor students from venturing in to the dreaded ghetto. While in the process not caring about whether poor children in the inner city have access to fresh fruits and vegetables. It's sickening; the bus stop that's closest to the better super market is not conducive to catching the bus there. While the other one is closer to two bus lines.
I called my mom to talk to her about it and we laughed, that laugh of we must laugh to keep from crying, because it's so sad, the blatant racism. As for me which supermarket will I continue to go to, I'm not sure. Because while I feel at home at the other one, I also crave good food.

deadlines and Beauty

This weekend I went back to NY for my school's Alumni weekend, even though I just graduated. I really enjoyed hanging out with my friends, just being back in a familiar environment. I came out to two more friends, each in very funny awkward ways but hey at least I'm making steps. I gave myself a New Year's deadline to come out to those most important to me, like my family.

Before I flew back this morning I spent sometime with my grandmother, Aunt and lil Cousin. I slept in my cousin's bed, and when I walked in her room the wall was covered by white faces. My lil Black cousin had tons of pictures of White celebrities. My beautiful Black cousin, admired the beauty of those who looked nothing like her, and it really bothered me. This was the first time I had seen her in about 2 years, and she came bouncing up the stairs completely reflecting pop culture, she had her cornrows separated in to two ponytails, and she twirled them around, she had the very typical t shirt with whatever random message written on it, and my all time favorite mini skirt with leggings on. I looked at her and just wondered what was going on with her? I know she's 12 and every 12 year old gives in to pop culture, but this was a bit much for me. I could have overlooked her clothes if it wasn't for her wall. I wonder where is her identity? Did she see beauty in her natural brown skin? Or does she envy the race of orange people created by tanning machines. I was just so disturbed, to find 90% of the pictures of people on her wall to be White, it's not that she just had pictures of a particular White group that she loved, but it seemed like she picked any White celebrity and deemed them worthy to be on her wall, and to emulate. As I was trying to figure out what's going on, I see my Aunt and notice she has grey contacts in her eyes, and then it started to click. I realized that we are all guilty of giving in to White dominance in one way or another, while some of us actively try and work against this, others don't and this gets passed on, and we have children growing up to devalue their own beauty, and unfortunately my lil cousin is another victim. I was just so disturbed by walking in to her room and being greeted by these faces that don't represent my family or the majority of other families, it's disgusting! Because these images aren't only distorting lil Black girls, idea of beauty, but also lil White girls, and lil Latinas, and lil Asian girls and lil Native girls and so on and so on. No one is safe from their distorted image of beauty, but my question is if the parents fall prey to these images also, who will counteract their power?