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