I Know Women...Vultures

As a woman, I know women. I know that women are great; we run the world (cues Beyonce). We also have lots of hiccups about ourselves; we can be selfish, sensitive, insecure and at times, jealous. But, men, do not use our hiccups as a reason to dismiss justifiable claims of insecurity, majority of the time we trust you, and believe you wouldn't intently harm us. To be honest, it isn't you that worries us, it is these vulture women.

See, vulture women can run game on you faster than you think. Knowing that you are dating someone, they will Facebook, text, call, email, etc you. Now, you can’t control who contacts you but you can control your ability to give vulture women an “in.” Some women will take you communicating back as “he likes me,” “he’d cheat on his girl with me,” or “we can have a future.” Fellas, nothing is wrong with having a woman as a friend but think twice about how you are communicating with them because you don’t want to give them a sense that they can trump your woman.

Bottom-line, we aren’t being insecure…we just know that women can be VULTURES!

my trip to the White House.

Many of my closest friends and most definitely my family members know I live and breathe politics but I do not enjoy speaking about politics when I am at home with them, I just like to leave work at work. Still, they affectionately refer to me as a “political junkie” not because I know who is in office or the ins and outs of Congress but because with all my being I believe that public policy and politics are a manner in which many of society’s wrongs can be made right. I didn’t always have this belief, I was a pre-dental major at Kent State and I was certain that the bulk of my professional career would be spent making recommendations about people’s poor dental hygiene. That all changed the moment I took my first political science class. I began to question the world around me—and embarked on a journey to advocate for progressive change, not knowing it would lead me to President Barack Obama’s doorstep.

Many have asked me “How was your visit to the White House?” and I have calmly responded “It was cool,” but to be honest, and not my normally non-chalant self, it was EXTRAORDINARY. When I started last September to organize a local effort to push for policies that would ensure people of color and women in Cleveland would have access to green jobs I was not expecting an invitation to the White House to arrive in my email on New Year’s Eve. I recall sitting in the living room with my parents saying “Oh, I’ve been invited to the White House,” and we just kept on doing whatever we were doing. I let a few friends know, and they wished me luck and sent congrats.

It wasn’t until the morning of January 18th that it hit me…I am going to the White House. I couldn’t help but to think about my family, about my grandfather, who could barely read, or my grandmother who saw the first Black president be elected, aunts and uncles, cousins, sisters, brothers, friends, enemies, etc. It was the thought of my parents and my nieces and my nephews who brought me to tears.

My parents have sacrificed their lives for me; my mom has been the backbone of our family and has spent all of her adult life working in a factory so she could keep a roof over our heads. My dad gave up years of his life so he could make sure we had a good chance at winning in life. Because of my parents I have never had to worry about our lights being off, never had to worry about food, even when I was able to drive they made sure I had a car to get to my measly job at K-Mart. They sent me to college, which gave birth to the advocate in me and although they were not there on January 18th…they dropped me off at the White House.

Tuesday reminded me of what America is about—and that is about opportunity and we as individuals have a choice to make excuses or take a hold of all that is offered to us. I am blessed my parents saw their circumstances as an opportunity to do for their kids what they could not do or see for themselves.

This won't be my last trip to the White House but believe me every time I am dropped off at that doorstep...I will think of Bev & Bill and carry everything they have breathed in me...with me.

He Makes Me Smile. So, I Changed My Mind

I get angry fast, especially when I feel disrespected. My face gets warm and I start to fire off, and most of the time my anger is justified. From 0 to 60 seconds…I am angry, hurt, and vengeful, my wall comes down and I fire off. #POW and anger takes away my smile, and ruins my mood for seconds, hours and even days. I got angry today, but it was different because he made me smile.

Seconds after being disrespected I felt the need to blog about it, to share my anger but in the midst of my fiery tirade, he made me smile with his simplicity and with his complete understanding that “men are really, really simple.” I can recall all of the times he has made me smile, never disrespected me and has always been my friend. Made me laugh, never made me cry. His compassion for life, and consideration for me…he changed my mind.

Because of him, I have changed my mind about titles. In the past, I thought the boyfriend/girlfriend titles had no importance because at THE END of my journey the only title that I wanted was wife. 2010 taught me that life is about a journey, and what we learn on the way and the different titles we hold on that journey…is what makes life, life. The end is THE END, no more, so why be concerned with THE END?

W/O A Title has left me loving on purpose, comprising and ultimately, unhappy.

He has changed my mind about a lot, in many ways he reminds me of what I deserve, and I deserve to smile. And it just so happens, he is good at making me smile. J

I Loved You On Purpose

“I loved you on purpose,” that’s a powerful statement, and an even more powerful action. I recall the day I decided to take a leap of faith and step out on love. Of course I knew the dangers involved but somewhere in my mind and heart I chose to love you. And with this came a responsibility, a responsibility to love you the only way I knew how…unconditionally, although I knew you did not deserve my love.

Our story is simple, I gave you want you wanted because I was never comfortable giving you all of me. Maybe you didn’t understand, maybe you didn’t care, oh well…the “maybes” are no longer my concern.

You started and ended relationships with other women while I stood in the shadows; you put me on the backburner to simmer. I settled in many ways, and my heart was in limbo with another man and I thought that giving you pieces of me would give me time to rebuild my own puzzle.

I wanted you to recognize my worth, to walk as hard as you talk but till this day, all I hear is words and see nothing but broken promises. It bothers me that you never took real time to know me, that you don’t know my likes/dislikes, my heart, or my humor. After these years, you still don’t know me…you don’t see me.

Now, I realize that I was so hungry for love that no matter where the meal came from or how inadequate of a meal you were providing; I chose to sit at the table and eat.

The choice is still mine, and now I chose to love me. I love me more than I love you.

So, goodbye to you and all your inadequacies.

An Open Letter to Women.

Written by my good friend, Charles C. Davis, Jr.

Penance \ˈpe-nən(t)s\ noun: an act of self-abasement, mortification, or devotion performed to show sorrow or repentance for sin.

In my Graduate program at my hippie Grad school, one of the most important lessons that I was taught was to be a reflective practitioner. This is to say, that as I am working with my students, I should not always assume that what I am doing or saying is correct. This is very different from the "teacher-centered" model that most of us grew up with. Instead, I was taught that if my students were not learning, it is not an indictment on them, it is an indictment on me. I am the one who needs to make a change to meet them where they are.

This idea of being reflective had no choice but to bleed over to other areas of my life. And so I find it important to regularly step back from the day-to-day meanderings of life to make sure that I am doing the best I can to make life not only good for myself, but for others.

One of the changes that some of you who have known me long enough may have noticed is my attempt to be...nicer isn't the word...but kinder. As you know, I love words...and the definition of the word "nice" is more of an action. You are not necessarily "nice", but you can be nice to people. The definition of "kind" speaks more to a person's natural essence or being. And so, I in my old age, am striving to be a kinder individual...and by virtue of this, I will be nice to others (hopefully *smile*).

Why this piece is entitled "An Open Letter to Women" is because I haven't always been kind to women. This of course is contrary to my upbringing as I was raised by a mother and a sister who are both strong women of high character who trained me to have nothing but the utmost respect for womanhood. But somewhere, I diverged from the path that was laid before me. And I know exactly when this divergence occured; the beginning of my Sophomore year in college.

Up to that point I had followed the blueprint provided to me by the matriarchs of my family. But something wasn't lining up, I wasn't getting much (if any) play. So, being the burgeoning social scientist that I was I decided to try a little social experiment: I would start being mean to women. I'm not making this up. This was a REAL conversation that I had with myself. I decided that for a couple months I would try my hand at being an ___-hole. And guess what, it worked! While never outwardly disrespectful, if I met a young lady that I liked, I would ignore her. If I got a girl's number, I wouldn't call her. If I saw her in public, I would act like she didn't exist. And guess what, IT WORKED!

Now of course, this made no sense to me. All my life I had been told to be nice to women. Tell a girl kind things, etc. But none of that worked. THIS on the other hand did. And so, I became a young man that today I am not very proud of. Oh, at the time I was. I'd venture to various parties, fueled on alcohol and machismo looking to conquer every woman that I chose to. And during that time, I could not help but to become cold, and calloused and ultimately bitter. A bitter and jaded young man in his early twenties, how sad is that?

I still today have never been quite able to understand this phenomena, but what I do know is that I caused hurt to come to several women who in no way deserved it. And in doing so, I am certain that I did nothing but to perpetuate a cycle of mistrust and deceit that has permeated the African-American community for more moons that I have lived to see and that have served no other purpose but to tear asunder the bonds that are so vital to each of our very existence. And for that I am sorry.

Many of these women have moved on and have grown from twenty-something hurts into fruitful bonds with partners who treat them as the precious gifts that they are. Others, I'm not so sure of. But as I look upon the landscape of our community, it is obvious that there were many more Charles Davis' (or worse) that have done much more harm than good.

And so, a couple years ago, I decided that my "penance" for these wrongs would be to help the women in my life to feel better and do better, particularly in making choices in whom they allowed that special place in their lives. In addition, I have tried to train the young men under my influence to become men of high character. And I know that it's hard as some of them now are where I was ten years ago. But I really do try to make them understand that being a single, emotionally unavailable bachelor with all of the things life has to offer without anyone to share it with is really not what's up. But I digress.

Now back to you ladies. It is my hope that each of you recognizes the treasure that you are. In many of the conversations that I have with female friends its apparent how insecure and uncertain we men have made some of you all feel. Many of you are grounded in an understanding of what "love" is, and what "love" feels like and more importantly what "love" does NOT feel like. But many of you are not.

Though I know the male/female merry-go-round will continue to spin round and round, just understand that you do not have to be on it. If you are in a relationship or a circumstance with someone who is not your protector, with someone who doesn't love and cherish you, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE THERE. That's right. You can leave. I don't care if it's been 10 weeks or 10 years. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE THERE. When you have this attitude, I think that it keeps you from being hurt, because you are taking ownership of your own feelings.

Now, when I say "YOU", I hope that you do not take it as an indictment of something that you are doing wrong. I have just come to realize that your greatest strength and your greatest weakness are one in the same; the capacity to care. Men by and large have to learn this (as I am now). We care about things...but in a very superficial way.

Let's take my mother and father. Now, I know my father loves me. But his love is very pragmatic. He wants to make sure all my bills are paid, that my car is running okay, that I haven't gotten shot or arrested since last we spoke. All good things. My mother on the other hand, wants to know about my health, am I eating properly, am I getting enough rest, have I been going to church, have I called my grandmother, etc. He looks outwardly, but she looks inside. This is what most of you all do.

And so, when you experience a man who shows glimmers of goodness but displays theaters of awfulness, you're more inclined to look at the potential of what he COULD be. I'm here to tell you, that man is who he is. You can't change him. I'm pretty sure his mama, auntie or granny have tried, and they couldn't do it either. Like I used to tell women, I'm not going to do anything for you that I wouldn't do for my mother or sister. They probably feel the same way.

And so, in closing, I again encourage you to take ownership of your feelings. You are JUSTIFIED in feeling the way that you do. If you want a man to call you instead of text you all night (even though I HATE to talk on the phone), you're justified. If you want a man to take you on a date instead of watch the Friday trilogy on the couch (even though they MAD funny!), you're justified. Now...if this brotha is workin' tryin' to make ends meet and you only feel justified by a 3 course brunch at the Four Seasons...that may be a bit much...but that's a whole other conversation. The point is, you do so much to meet us guys where we are, there is NOTHING wrong with expecting some reciprocity. Most of this stuff is common sense...but of course a lot of women over think some things (read EVERTHING) ad nauseum. And I KNOW you feel that little prick in your soul, but you're just wanting to make exceptions for the guy give that one more chance. Sometimes it may be justified, but after 2,3,4,26 times...the onus eventually falls on you, because ULTIMATELY no one can treat you poorly unless you allow them to. There is an philosophical theory called Occam's Razor which expressed in Latin is "entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem". Translated this means "entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity" or in other words, the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. No amount of questioning or doubt will change what is clearly in front of your eyes.

What we all (men and women) have to come to realize that we are valuable. Not because of what car we drive, or what title we have or how much money we make or even because somebody thinks we're sexy. But you're valuable because you are a child of God. And if He thinks the world of you, and only wants the best for you, then why not want it for yourself?

I know it's rough out there, it's hard for guys in many respects too. We're all out here just bumping into one another like spinning tops scared to let our guard down for fear of being hurt just like someone hurt us in the past. Part of that risk is the risk not to sell yourself short (notice I didn't use the word "settle"...again, another conversation for another day). But without any risk, there isn't any reward. In the words of Nikki Giovanni, "We love, because it is the only true adventure".

Love Lessons in Heartbreak

I love love. I love to give and receive love. For me love is the essence of who I am, and if I let you in and I allow myself to love you…I will love you, despite it all. One of the greatest lessons I have ever learned in my young life is a lesson of love and heartbreak.

I still remember the day, the day my heart shattered. I thought my world had come to an end, I thought I’d be another stereotypical successful, black woman with no husband and no kids…lonely. For days I cried, didn’t walk for my graduate degree and attempted rationalize “why?” I decided that I could either be bitter or be educated.

Being bitter would have taken me to exactly where I did not want to be; it would have caused me to take the burdens from my past “relationship” to the threshold of another. Moving quickly to the next man would have been an easy solution. I could have found comfort in temporary affection. But why lack trust in someone new and make a man pay for another’s mistakes? Being bitter would lead to a statistic, one I did not want to be.

I decided to be educated by heartache.

Love does not mean perfection, it does not mean that I will love you tomorrow; it means I will love you today, and do everything today to ensure that we have the possibility to be in love tomorrow.

Love is fearless. My favorite scripture is “[T]here is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” 1 John 4:18. God did not make us to fear, He made us to love, God is Love. Love and Fear cannot co-exist; therefore I choose love over fear. No fear in a man leaving me, no fear in outsiders in my relationships. No longer do I fear being a statistic. None.

Love does mean being more impressed with a man’s love for God, more than their love for you. A man who loves God more than me…can love me any day.

I am a Believer and therefore if heartbreak knocks again…I have no fear.

-Shanelle LaCole

The Audacity to Ask

It is some bold women in this world. One’s who do not hesitate to ask for what they want and for sure take charge when they are in need. It is all good to be bold, I encourage anyone to go for anything they want or need! But being bold has its limits, especially when we ask of a man who is not our husband to do for us when we aren't meeting our own needs.

Last week I was talking to my homeboy about how women ask him to pay for their bills. He says they hint, “Aye, I don't know where my car-note is coming from,” or they let him know they are short...”I’m a little short on my rent this week.” Jokingly, I hinted at him this week…

En route to catch my 1:20pm flight to Chicago, I remembered I forgot to pay my rent, not because I didn’t have the money, simply because I forgot. I BBM’d him “I f-ing left without paying my rent.” What was I going to do? Although I didn’t need the money, just needed someone to take it to the rental office, I still couldn’t suffice asking a man who has not put a ring on my finger to go pay for something that is a necessity of mine, not of his.

I’d never ask a man (who is not my hubby or Daddy) to pay for anything I need. That’s a bold statement but that’s how I feel. Maybe it is pride, I do not know.

I feel like I, as a grown woman, had the audacity to go out and make bills for myself. I signed my rental lease. I bought a SUV. I decided that I need cable and the internet. I need lights, water, gas, etc. If you have the audacity to tout your “grownness”, you should have the means to pay.

Believe me, I know we all have emergency situations, we all need someone to lean on, but how do you get bold enough to ask a man who you’re just dating?

Have I asked a man to pay for something? Yes, for something I couldn’t afford because I was handling my needs and knew he wanted to give me what I wanted.

Obviously, this rule has exceptions. Just let me know, when is it okay to have the audacity to ask for a man to pay for your needs?