CLARAFIED BUTTER

My Mama's favorite cartoon was always Peanuts.  Having watched many episodes every holiday season since I was a kid and especially now with my own kids, Charlie Brown's famous catchphrase is one that recently made me reconsider it's significance. "Good grief," was always CB's (Charlie Brown and oddly enough my Mama's initials as well) lament when things weren't going quite right but for me, the phrase means something just a bit different. When I saw these two words together at first I thought it was an oxymoron. How could any kind of grief be good? Grief in and of itself is a process that is usually difficult for everyone who has to go through it. Maybe grief can be good once you have accepted reality in all it's unfair and untimely glory. Maybe grief can be good when you realize it was all a gift, one that you didn't have to have but are thankful you did. For me I knew it was good when I was able to speak of her without crying profusel...

Thoughts of her are frequent. They come and they go as often as the days turn into nights. She is all around. I notice her in my daughter, I notice her sometimes even when I speak, I hear her in my voice. I notice her in my husband, which may seem really odd but when we married my catch phrase was that 'I had married my Mom'. It's the damnedest thing because even though I notice her, I still miss her all the while.  Like today I passed by a park we had only visited once. It was her job's picnic and we were there early to set up. We were talking and laughing as usual, when we remembered hearing about a rapist on the loose in the area, on the radio. She went into full mommy mode by taking something potentially scary and making me feel completely safe. She talked about the diabolical things she would do to anyone who tried to hurt us, something involving carving our initials into their skin. Ma was crazy but she knew just how to make me smile. So recently when I was de...

This Judge Kavanaugh case has me all messed up on the inside. Feelings I never even knew I had, have been stirred so I really want to be active in my resistance. I want to protest, I want to argue with idiots who still victim blame! I wanna hug on some women that have bravely spoken their horror stories. At the same time I'm doing all the necessary things to start a part-time position tutoring elementary students with reading. I'm both nervous and excited. I want to connect with my students and learn what they like while making reading fun. But also I'm feeling some kind of way about starting a new gig, despite my kids being in school I have always been able at a moment's notice to jump up and go to them if they were to need me. With this position I will be a few miles away, still willing to leave at a moment's notice but not able because I will be working with kids who depend on me. Then my daughter keeps dropping hints that even before I start the position, sh...

What a time to be alive! Before this very moment, the biggest controversy in the news was about a protest against police brutality in this country that got manipulated and desecrated for political gain. It's still relevant because those who are protesting get called all kinds of names including but not limited to unpatriotic. But what is patriotism? Patriotism is exaltation in one's nation and an active desire to see that nation succeed. And what I have witnessed in the past few days is no shortage of that. While watching the Senate hearings to decide if a nominated judge is deserving of the position of Supreme Court justice, Dr. Christine Beasley Ford testified against his appointment based off her personal experience with him. At times it was tough to watch but the whole time witnessing her speak, the truth I was reminded of this word, patriotism. Then the women in that elevator who confronted Senator Flake, by speaking their truth made him reconsider. To want to see yo...

 Last week I was waiting outside, on the bench at my museum, when a Black woman appeared. Her hair was brown and partially loc'd in a short afro that framed her face, she wore black pants and a red shirt with pink flip flops, she had a matching pink coffee cup and water bottle. She also was talking to herself out loud and sporadically. The whole bench was near empty but she chose to sit near me. I had earphones on, listening to music when I saw her and smiled. I didn't speak. I hadn't noticed yet that she was talking to herself. Maybe she wanted to engage with me but I couldn't hear her. I waited to observe her actions since I couldn't hear her words, nothing seemed threatening. She did get up several times, leaving her pink beverages on the bench. And I won't front for a fleeting moment, I envisioned a headline featuring myself being blown to bits by a coffee cup bomb, "Black Mama of two, blown to bits by fellow Black woman." But I shook that off qu...

When I was young, my Mama claimed I was a social butterfly. She told me all the time that I was open to make friends with anyone, being an only child for most of my formative years, I understood the need for friendships. But sometime around high school I got socially awkward. Blame it on the teen years, knowing more about the world and the veil that I once embraced, slowly being ripped from my eyes. Any of those reasons make sense, the teen years are tough. But now in my thirties I find that I've become even more awkward! If it weren't for my kids I doubt I would have too many other social interactions. I like keeping to myself and being in small informal groups of people I trust and can be myself around. Now because my kids are in school and making friends I have to engage with parents and teachers and staff. It's tough but I do what I must. That sounds harsh but I feel like I'm being warm and genuine, always genuine, maybe that's not what my vibe is giving off t...

This has been a remarkable time in the entertainment industry, specifically in films and television. With more platforms being offered than ever before, means more opportunities to tell stories from a variety of perspectives. I am hopeful that the momentum will be ongoing, which will help folks from all demographics feel honored instead of ignored. I can only imagine what positive effects it will have on our children and the generations to come, but what was unexpected was the effect it's having on me. Being a child in the eighties and nineties was great, I look back on it with fondness. Though there wasn't much diversity. On television there were mostly white ensembles with one or two people of color. I credit shows like Family Matters, Cosby Show, Sister, Sister and  Living Single for being the reflection of Blackness that I needed. Little did I know that I could feel represented even more with a specific television character. Tasha "Tastee" Jefferson on the sho...

When I was a kid my Mama handled the topic of colorism quite nonchalantly. She didn't really discuss it. There were terms I just wasn't allowed to use i.e "light-skin" or "dark-skin". It made for more abstract descriptions of Black folk but it also forced me to go deeper and look beyond the obvious. I know that sounds difficult in this day and age where race and color are everywhere in society. But like most things I'm realizing too late, my Mama was ahead of her time. She must've known it was going to come up at some point in my formative years and instead decided to shut it down! This is the kind of intuitiveness I miss. She always seemed to follow her instincts and in every conversation we ever had, she implored me to do the same. But why the avoidance? We live in America where at one point paper bags were actually used to divide people of color, a piece of history her own sorority wishes to forget. We live in a country where seemingly, th...

So Much So In Black Panther during battle, the Queen Mother shouted to T’Challa, “Show them who you are!” He then recited his lineage and it gave him an inner strength that propelled him from the inside-out so much so that he was able to conquer his opponent and become who he was destined to be.  That’s power, there’s power in your name. So much so that when you typically hear your whole name shouted from your parent’s lips, you know it means business. You know something is about to go down! Spiritually speaking, whenever I find myself in potentially life-threatening situations the first and only name I call upon is Jesus and there's so much so good when that happens. When you reach a goal, you want to hear your whole name as you walk across that stage to receive your diploma, certificate, degree etc. so much so you want it to be associated with that accomplishment. Your name and your lineage is important. Never take for granted your title and the power it ca...

This is how I'm feeling right about now. It's been a long summer with these kids! On the first day, August 23rd both will be in school and I will be hugging a few teachers!  I actually enjoy being with my kids, it's just the amplified, daily grind that is summer, that has me extra ready for school to begin. It's the nonstop monotony of hearing their complaints and whines and fights and demands, that can make me go crazy! I am sure I will look back over the summer and remember the times we had together and all the activities we participated in with a sense of pride and a glow of accomplishment but not today. Today, I am in the thick of it, counting down the days until they will be in their school with fantastic teachers who have been trained to prepare them for the next level. Amen for teachers. I appreciate you. When the school year ended, I gave each one of my kids' teachers a token of appreciation. It was simply a note to say thanks for all they did in h...

 "My Mama writes." ~ my daughter I was blown away, that my child knew that about me! First of all, I hardly ever get to write while they are awake. Secondly,  she notices the world outside of herself? LOL, I kid but really? Motherhood is a seemingly selfless act, you give and you give and expect nothing in return, definitely not being noticed by your children but what she said taught me, that she IS paying attention. Maybe not to my words  all the time but definitely to my actions. When she wakes up in the morning, it's not unusual for her to find me on the computer, writing something. I take a journal and pen with me everywhere I go and as back-up I have been known to use the notepad app on my phone. She sees me doing these things and knows that I write. She may not know what but she knows I am writing something. Her awareness has made me more aware. The habits I want her to adopt first have to be modeled by me. Like I want her to drink more water, so now I almost ...

I was eight years old waiting outside our hotel with our luggage in Orlando. Mama had surprised me with a trip to Disney World for the first time. She had dropped me off in front so we didn't have to carry our luggage from the parking lot in the back. Somehow while driving to the back of the hotel, she took a wrong turn and ended up on the interstate!  She told me this story often, so I remember this was the part where her eyes would get big, as she dramatically reenacted the horror she felt, having made the wrong turn while I was waiting for her.  She had trouble navigating in a new city but only for about thirty minutes. When she found her way back to me she hugged me for what felt like twenty minutes and told me she would never leave me alone again! I had no idea she had gotten lost. I was too excited about the trip. I had stayed put, I knew she would get back to me...eventually! So when the policy was initiated and enforced by the federal government, where people seeking...

On a recent trip, driving down south on I-95, I couldn't help but be entranced by the beauty of the natural landscape that surrounded me. The magnificent magnolia, oak, willow, pine, dogwood, fir, aspen and maple trees that line up and down the interstate were a true sight to behold. While being astounded by God's great works, I pondered how many of these trees had bared witness and been made accomplice to the thousands of lynchings that have occurred in this country.  Lynching is the torture and killing of someone (usually Black) by hanging, committed by a mob. The most common way to lynch someone is with the use of a tree's strongest branch. I wonder from the trees' perspective what it must've been like. The atrocities they must've witnessed, even if they weren't used as the tool to commit such acts, having stood near the tree that held the body must've been an experience. To provide shade for the church-goer who paid the ticket admission to wa...

My Mama is everything to me. Since she passed it's taken me a while to feel like myself again. This blog has helped tremendously. I have been writing here for almost two years and recently reviewed everything I've written. What I found was that my intention for this space is completely different from what it has become. Initially, I thought I wanted to create a community for Moms who felt marginalized, who maybe were a little disappointed with their experiences mothering but had no place to vent those frustrations. My husband kindly pointed out to me that would be more of a 'discussion group' than a blog. What instead was created is a space I use to vent my frustrations and failures, my disappointments and revelations on motherhood and life in general. In this space I share things that I would've only had the nerve to say to my Mama. She was the listening ear I needed to take big steps forward, the warm embrace when life got tough. And like this space, I always...

A daughter speaks to her Mama. "Instead of sending flowers, WE the roses." ~Roses Reminds me of the day you died. I never felt alone. You and Grandma and the ancestors were holding me up. Having to be the messenger of your death to your brothers and sisters was tough. In a way I still feel like my presence announces your physical absence. And I'll be that for you proudly. The reminder that you were here! It's taken me these almost 5 years to get 'okay' with not seeing you all the time. I think you already know how hard it has been so I won't bore you with that. It's particularly harder on this day because seeing everyone with their Mamas, being able to hug and kiss them up, spoil them properly, give them mushy cards that they keep forever! Seriously Ma, you kept EVERY card I gave you?! It's sweet to find them around every now and then. I was just much happier when you were around. I wish you could just visit. ...

Picture it, two chubby, chocolate women holding hands as they walk out of an office building in downtown northeast DC. They favor each other and appear to be in their own world, laughing and blissfully smiling at one another. The older one spots a flower guy across the street from her building selling sterling roses, half a dozen for three bucks. She always finds three bucks to buy lavender-hued roses for her girl. The two women seem to own the street. Everything about their day is discussed on their walk. Even the worst of days is made virtuous, on these walks because on these walks where the two women hold hands, laugh blissfully and listen to each other's day... They had each other. They nod at the community around them on the journey to their car. From the kind man, just getting off from work, the flower vendor guy to the sweet lady who owns the snack stand they pass everyday. They all bared witness to something special. Sometimes I wish I could find them and ask them if they...

Not only was this the title of Mama's favorite song, it is the one thing that has remained constant in this life. Sometimes, I feel as if certain aspects of Mama's life contain a gem of knowledge that can help me when I need it. Like, I use her favorite phrases, "You got what I got" and "You got this" as self-motivating mantras. Even the short-lived appearance of her favorite flower, that she planted in her garden, serves as a marker for her presence still being felt. So it's only fitting that her favorite song has become my anthem, whenever things happen that I just can't justify. The Earth is changing, the literal phrase coined for it is climate change. The city I live in is changing, it's almost unrecognizable. And just as the places around us change, so do the people. I just started watching a new show on Netflix, The Let Down and though situations could've been deemed comical I didn't laugh once.  I found it to be an accur...

Picture it. 1988. Washington, D.C. Inside a cubicle, in an office building, a six year old girl is on the phone with her father. She is quiet and he is filling the silence with words that only make her feel confused. He's saying he loves her but she's never felt it. In fact if it wasn't for her Mama calling him, so they could speak, they wouldn't be. After the awkward conversation, the six year old asks her Mama to stop calling her father. She says to her Mama, "If he wants to talk to me, he can call me." Her Mama agrees and that essentially ends all contact between the two for decades, despite living in the same city. This was the extent of the relationship I had with my father.  There was a family cookout, where he had to show off all his kids when I was 15, a dinner spent analyzing the Washington Wizards basketball organization and finally my wedding where he might as well had been a fly on the wall. My lack of a relationship with him is the reason th...

"My Umi says shine your light on the world. Shine your light for the world to see."~ Mos Def Yesterday (March 1st), I celebrated what would've been my Mama's 63rd year of life. To imagine her at this age isn't hard, she matured masterfully. She'd still have the same cute pixie cut with probably blonde highlights and an even more fierce wardrobe. She would be the world's best Grandma and still my saving grace. I remember when I was fresh into this motherhood thing, my first born was giving me the blues. Being a stay at home Mama is not easy. On this particular day I had reached my limit, I called Mama at work and asked if she could take the baby for a while. Mama was at her good, full time, federal government job, but she heard the desperation in my voice. She said "Bring my baby here." I showed up to her job with my child, she met us outside at the car. She grabbed her out the car seat and didn't even take the baby bag. I guess that was...

"Mommy, can you come back to school and have lunch with me today?" "No baby, I don't think that's allowed." "Yesterday, some other little girl's Mommy came and ate lunch with her, so why aren't you allowed?" "Oh, well maybe she got permission before hand to do so." "Well can you get permission and come have lunch with me?" "Um sure Honey, I will try." I never try. I'm pretty sure all that's required of me to come have lunch with my child at her school is me signing in at the front desk with security. I won't tell my child that. I have no idea why I resist doing the simple things like this that will make her happy. Resisting her comes so naturally to me. In my head, the kind of mother I always dreamed I would be is a carbon copy of my Mama but better somehow. My kids would be scholars and  high achievers because I'd constantly be engaging them with facts about their hi...

I celebrated Kwanzaa on New Year's day with family and it had me feeling all the feels. I felt nostalgic, wishing my Mama was there, it was always our holiday to showcase our hidden talents. I can only imagine what a Kwanzaa presentation would look like from her in 2018. Also, I feel oddly optimistic, like all the things that were holding me back before no longer exist and I know exactly what it is I have to accomplish and even how to do it. It's like what Jay Z said in 4:44, "I'm clear why I'm here, how about you?" I don't want to speak on things or even write about them anymore, I only want to execute and make them happen. I also want to give myself props for the accomplishments I have made just in the last year. My kids are in school, with competent and capable teachers. My son was diagnosed with autism and is now in an environment that is best catered for his learning. My daughters anxieties about school have been quelled and she is now happy and ...