lastcivilizedwoman

the only color..

June 25, 2016
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…that should matter in the 21st century is the color of your money.


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Dr. King is Dead…

February 7, 2016
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mlk statue

“out of a mountain of despair, a stone of hope”

and something very strange is going on…

Black people are being judged by the color of their skin…

not the content of their character…

It’s why so many black people are being murdered…

and all of us are targets in this 21st century…

 

 

 

 

 

who’s going to save us now?

in prison

 

 


it’s black history month in STL…

February 7, 2016
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Sister_Slave

Because I’m brown-skinned, people keep insisting that I’m uneducated, unemotional and inarticulate. The reality is most likely I’m better educated, more caring and articulate than pretty much everyone I’ve run into.

This same problem exists among my own people. The fair-skinned people make the same assumptions that the white people do and my own people, fair-skinned, my hue and darker assume that the only thing I’m good for is to be passed around like so much dead meat. For the most part, all of them ignore me, until I get angry, not because I’m a black woman (and stereotypically angry), but because I’ve figured out I’m being ignored. I consider this to be very insulting.

The women suspect me because I don’t have children. The men suspect me because I don’t have children.

The women don’t know how to be gracious and welcoming and the men don’t know how to be kind and considerate.

Too many people want to stick their head in the sand and keep it there. Too many are afraid to break away and do something different.

Despite my appearance, I very much have feelings and desire to be listened to, loved and cared for just like anyone else. I also don’t want to have to “fit in” in order to be accepted.

What’s pissing me off is that most of the people I’ve run into here in STL behave this way and none of them have an understanding of how narrow-minded, racist and bigoted this is. Pretty sad state of affairs.

in prison


is the nigger inside…

January 2, 2016
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SERIOUSLYWhat is a nigger? It’s certainly not me because I wasn’t brought up to think of myself that way, nor do I think anyone else is either.

For  the past 20-plus years I’ve lived in STL, I didn’t pay much attention to people’s behavior or thinking.  I did wonder from time to time why white people seemed to stare or be rude or careless or tried to race-walk me up or down stairs or to front doors of places I wanted to enter. There was also this attitude of not listening whenever I had an opinion about a topic of conversation. As if nothing I could say would be of any importance.

It took me that long to realize that the reason they behaved that way was because they were mentally calling me names!  Specifically, the word “nigger” and because they thought that way, I was expected to act that way.

Luckily, where I was born, raised, and lived, no one ever taught me to think of myself that way or to think of anyone else that way. “Nigger” and all its’ variations were words that was never heard in my home. That’s why it took me so long to figure this out.  The closest I ever came to be called a nigger was when this very nice southern lady in Atlanta, GA, called me a “colored gal”. I never spoke to her again.

The other problem is all black people have a nasty habit of thinking of themselves as “niggers” in a group think mentality. They think it when they see other black people and talk to each other in the same way they think. A fellow “nigger”.

White people think of black people as “niggers” and this thinking comes out in the way they behave toward people of color.

The best example I can use is when a white person thinks a black person is “out of place” as determined by the expression on the white person’s face or closed body language when this happens. In my world, this happens when I speak to a white person in what I think is a normal manner to do something or need something and he or she reacts in a “how dare you” manner. It’s very subtle and hard to catch if you don’t know what to look for.

the second someone thinks “nigger”, it starts oozing out of their pores. It appears in that person’s expression, their body language and the tone of their conversation.

Black folks also have a nasty habit of thinking this way. It always appears when there are two or more black people working together. The best example of this is when one black person trains another and one or both of them, spend way too much time trying to one-up each other instead of spending the time to get to know one another and learn. I see this at my job all the time and again, it took me a long time to figure out why there seemed to be this weird dynamic that would happen each time I tried to engage with my black coworkers. I even had a black coworker try to bad-mouth me to our supervisor for something that one other person I work with was doing the same thing I tried to teach my coworker to do. The other person was a white female.

This is a behavior that desperately needs to be “unlearned”!!

It’s a form of lynching and the only purpose it serves is to perpetuate divisiveness. Someone is always trying to get over by climbing over on someone else’s back/talents. After a while, you grow eyes in the back of your head and stop engaging with people you don’t know. I hate living like this!

If you judge a book by its’ cover, you’ll miss the whole story!

It’s like the line that Sidney Poitier spoke in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” where he told his dad that he thinks of himself as a “colored” man and Sidney’s character stated he “thinks of himself as a man”.

This is the place that black people need to get to here in STL and very likely in the entire country. We have a couple of generations that are walking around feeling very left out and it may be up to us “old-heads” to grab them by the hand (or the neck) and teach them how to speak up for themselves and go for what they want without guns, drugs, or cussing…


on being afraid and the end of white privilege

July 5, 2014
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Most black people I’ve met here in STL are afraid. Living here makes black people afraid to live, to learn, to be good to each other or to leave. I’m not afraid and that makes me suspect and feared. I am suspect because I am not susceptible to the spirit-numbing, soul-robbing, mind-game-playing, gaslight tactics people do to each other here in the state of Missouri.

Two different jobs, I had supervisors tell me I should go work someplace else. One of them actually got me fired from my job because he couldn’t obfuscate me into being someone I didn’t want to be. The other one, instead of talking to me like an adult, kept threatening to write me up, insisting that I didn’t belong on “her” team. She ultimately had to give me a review (written by someone else) that probably made her want to gag, because I didn’t do what she was trying to mind-fuck me into doing. The only reason I’m still at my job is because I was able to transfer away before she was able to come up with a trumped-up cause to fire me.

But, back to my task at hand: black people I have met here and became friends with have all said the same thing, “they are afraid to go anywhere that they don’t already know someone.” They worry that if they don’t know someone in a different city, they run the risk of being hurt, robbed or worse. For some reason, these folks here believe the rest of the world “is out to get them” if they venture past the borders of the state of Missouri.

I stopped being friends with two women because they were afraid. I invited both of them to celebrate birthdays in Las Vegas and both of them wanted to know why I wanted to leave STL to have a birthday party. Neither of them wanted to leave the city because they were afraid.

It took me a while to figure out what was really going on.

I’m not from STL, so I’m not susceptible to the fearfulness that has been fed black folks here from the cradle to the grave. It’s why the city school system is unaccredited and why at least four generations of blacks (and some whites) here are ill-spoken, illiterate. humiliated and afraid, even the ones who consider themselves middle and upper-class. There are several generations of black folks who are cut-out, left-out, shut-out, locked-out, locked up and put-out. The young people, as in every revolutionary generation, have risen up and are demanding an end to the status quo of “white privilege”.

STL Blacks carry on with a lot of uncle tom, handkerchief-head, shuck and jive performing and will turn on each other in a heartbeat, especially if they think it will curry favor with the folks they think are running things here. They don’t think for themselves because they believe doing so will get them in trouble. Every question begins with “what would the white folks do?” Blacks here won’t think for themselves and they can’t take care of each other because of this.

It may have taken the Michael Brown shooting in August to start the STL revolution. It is now the beginning of the end of “white privilege” with the several shootings of black men in the last 2.5 months. Unfortunately, it also means that innocents will be victimized until the situation is changed.

None of the people I deal with, including my closest friend, have a clue on how to present themselves as equals. The one thing I’ve noticed is that white people here, if they can’t get you to defer to, obey them or step aside, they will either ignore what you say and do or they will do everything they can to ostracize you or even race you up the sidewalk to get in the front door of the closest grocery store first. None of them know how to talk to or behave with a black person who is well- or better-educated and speaks good English. Their belief system is that we are dirty, stupid animals and incapable of behaving in a civilized manner and uplift ourselves from a state of poverty and ignorance.

It is really great that Reverend Al, Brother Jesse, Martin Jr, Father Dick and Dr. Cornell have come to town to help folks stand up for themselves. Even though they are on the right track with the non-violent pop-up protests, none of them have come up with the right speech or the right phrase to set this town on proverbial “fire”! None of them have seen what is really going on in STL!!

From my point of view, it appears that all of the police departments in the metro area have signed on to maintain the current culture of “white privilege.” A culture that is designed to keep people of colour “in their place” and maintaining a way of life where non-whites aren’t allowed to fully participate in the economic and educational riches of this region. Blacks and whites here don’t like each other, because both groups have been fed with mother’s milk not to like or to talk to each other in any meaningful way.

“White privilege” is so well entrenched in the MO culture that no one seems to realize this is the crux of the unrest. It is the reason that so much misinformation in the Michael Brown case has been released, which is designed to discredit the current protests and demands being made. This is also the reason for the violence-prone “renegade demonstrations” that pop up from time to time at high-visibility venues like the Dome, Busch and SLU.

The entrenched “privilege” regime is afraid and trying to wait until the depths of winter, to release the non-indictment of officer Darren Wilson, hoping it will postpone a riot such as the ones in LA in the early-90s with the Rodney King police beating verdict.

It’s more like “Forsyth Stays White!”, the cry that was heard in late 1987 in Georgia. There is a concerted effort to keep the white privilege power base in STL metro intact, but without the overt racism that got Cumming, GA in so much trouble.

Blacks and whites here see each other as the “enemy”, not as someone to share economic wealth, educational opportunities, governmental and political equality with.

It is time for an end to “white privilege” in metro STL…

 

 


black history redux!

March 3, 2014
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back o my headMany thanks to Shukree Hassan Tilghman, a 29-year-old African-American filmmaker, who goes on a cross-country campaign to end Black History Month, for inspiring me to go on this journey with him. http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/more-than-a-month/

follow this blog,  (or until I get bored), you will see stories and information, past and present, pertaining solely to black people and their many accomplishments and contributions to modern society.

Nate Robinson is not the first non-tall professional basketball player to win a slam-dunk contest. It is Spud Webb, who played for the Atlanta Hawks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spud_Webb

Ralph Ellison wrote a scathing novel “Invisible Man” in 1952. http://www.biography.com/people/ralph-ellison-9286702 that, while not “21st century” material, it speaks much about the current condition of black men in STL.

bell hooks, born in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, wrote “Ain’t I a Woman?: Black Women and Feminism“. In a class with Angela Davis, I consider bell to be a premier black feminist writer with an honest opinion about black women and feminism, which, in my opinion has not been thoroughly visited by black women, especially here in STL. Unfortunately, there are still human beings who believe their only value is in how many babies they can make, how much money they can get for making babies and which man they can trick into marrying them for said babies and the “lifestyle” improvement that comes with making said babies for said man married to him or not.

and then there’s the STL homeless situationhttp://www.stlmag.com/St-Louis-Magazine/January-2014/No-shelter/, an article on the perspective of one man fighting a fight that may not be winnable, simply because these people are either too beaten down or too lazy to do or be otherwise. the problem may, in itself, be self-perpetuating also because of one man.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octavia_E._Butler — this country’s first black female science fiction writer. all who follow, stand in her shadow.

 


double nickels and a full moon

January 15, 2014
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buttery moon 2014this evening, I watched a bright, butter yellow moon rise slowly over the tree tops while sitting on the train home this evening. I counted myself very fortunate to be able to sit still for 35 minutes and experience the phenomenon of that moon. I’ve seen that moon before, but never quite the way I saw it tonight.

at first I wasn’t sure what it was, it looked like something was on fire, because the top of it was barely seen through the tree-tops and it took 5 minutes to reveal itself  that bright, butter yellow orb that took its’ sweet time to appear in the distance.

i could blink and miss some aspect of that rising moon, so much so that it seemed as if the moon was frog- leaping into the sky should I look away.

i’m glad i got to see that moon rise. i count is a blessing and a privilege that i could sit still long enough to enjoy and appreciate it.

such a simple pleasure in this fast-paced world where everyone seems to be looking down (phone/ipad/laptop/notebook) at something in their laps these days.

i hope to see many more.

55mphfor the uninformed, double nickels means 55, which the age i will be in the spring. to me, this number is just as momentous as age 40 or 50 for that matter. it means that i am 5 years away from being 60 and that much closer to a retirement that i am not prepared for, neither emotionally nor fiscally. i, like many others, unfortunately dropped a lot of money into the stock market, relying solely on this as the way to secure my retirement future. bad idea. two years before i turned 50, half of the money i had saved was gone in the nuclear blast that was the housing market debacle. sucked away into a black hole.

sadly, this did not come to pass. to add insult to injury, two years after i turned 50, i was fired from my job. no severance, no golden parachute, nothing. i then made the mistake of assuming that my skills would put me back into the job market within a couple of months and ran around having some fun. it actually took 18 months and by that time, i had lived through the remaining money from my 401k. so much for the plans of worms and women.

i count myself foolish for believing the lie that the stock market would be the means towards my independence and comfort in my dotage.

i’m still grateful for having seen that moon.


up to no good

June 18, 2012
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Some people are made of plastic,
You know some people are made of wood.
Some people have hearts of stone,
Some people are up to no good.

Some people are made of lies
To bring you down
And shame your name.

Life is about making choices. Some choices we make are actually good for us, even though at the time we make them, it may not seem like it. Later down the road, we look back and realize even though that certain choice hurt, it may very well have been the catalyst to a better life, a better environment, a better happiness.

My topic is the choices we make when we choose a life mate, best friend, our keeper of secrets, etc.

Think of it this way, if you choose someone because they look good next to you, not because of how they treat you, care for you, or help you when your back is up against the wall, then you’re probably going to get an ass-kicking you deserve from that very person.

If you choose someone because of how they look, that really makes you shallow. The best thing you could ever do for yourself is find out how that person will behave with you when you are sick, broke, unemployed, depressed, or just plain down on your ass. Do they come by and just sit and talk with you, while watching TV? Do they offer to do something nice for you just because? Will they pick up the phone at random and just ask you how you are doing? Think about it this way, if you were out of a job, would they still be there, encouraging you to keep on keeping on?

Oh, it’s all fun and games while every body’s flush and pockets are bulging, we can spend money and lavish gifts with the best of them. But what about when your pockets are empty and you’re barely making it from one paycheck to the next? Is it all of a sudden, you can’t get them on the phone, or, you call them up because you’ve found something free and fun to do on Wednesday afternoon, they’re no where to be found? What about that time you had this great movie you rented for $1 and you invited them over to watch it with some popcorn and Kool-Aid and they told you they were going to a happy hour and then next thing you know, they’re back in your face, regaling you with stories of how fine the bartender was that night (didn’t dawn on them that maybe you’d like to have gone too)?

You know that old saying “looks can be deceiving” is a true statement on the state of human relations in the 21st century. You pick someone because they look good and you wind up with someone who’s more trouble than they’re worth. Narcissistic, selfish, mean-spirited, stingy, inconsiderate—but boy are they CUTE! Bullshit!

So does this mean you’ll date someone because they look good, or has a big penis, or tiny vagina, or “good” hair or blue eyes or hazel eyes or tall or muscular, and treat you like shit?

Or would you take the time to get to know someone, that someone who just might turn out to the best thing for you since sliced bread? Especially when it comes down to how you treat each other? Respecting one another’s opinion, allowing that person to be themselves, warts and all? Seeking constantly to find things you can share with each other? Finding out what makes the other person happy and doing that just because you know it makes that person happy? Or better yet, knowing when to shut up and just let them be?

One thing I’ve discovered, when we are young, we want to be right all the time, no matter the consequences. Well I’m here to tell you, knock that shit off! If you are lucky enough to make it out of your forties and you’ve been paying attention, you’ll discover it’s not important to be right all the time. What you start looking for is some mutual respect among your peers, friends and lovers and if you don’t find it, within a certain period of time, then you will move on. It’s not necessary to be right, it is, however, necessary to be treated well, especially when you look back at where you’ve been and what you put up with when your biological clocks were running and your body was following along willingly.

Try it this way, apply these principles at 20, not at 40 and the right person may turn up on your doorstep sooner than you think.

I keeping remembering being a little girl and reading those stupid fairy tales and watching those even dumber romance movies, where boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl in the end (barf time`) and there are thousands of women just like me who grew up with that shit and still believe it to this day! There ain’t no such thing as a happy ending in a fairytale. Women aren’t taught how to stand on their own two feet and be self-sufficient, we all grow up believing some guy is going to come along making 6-figures, buy us a 2-story house, a BMW, give us 2.5 children, put them through college, take a vacation in Europe every other year and then oblige us by dropping dead with the house paid off, the kids out of college and a million dollars in the bank, free and clear.

That’s a lot of burden to put on one human being. Why weren’t we taught to be self-sufficient, put our own money in the bank and buy our own BMW, 2-story house and skip the babies all together? Or better yet, help the man with getting all this stuff?!?!? What’s wrong with sharing the burdens and working toward the goals together???

But baby, I’m for real
I’m as real as real can get

If what you’re looking for
Is real loving
Then what you see
Is what you get!

(If you haven’t heard these song lyrics before, check out a 70s group called “The Dramatics”) on YOUTUBE  OR copy and paste in your browser: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GG-hD81o6Rs (no copyright infringement intended).


the last of the 30 days — I’m late, I know!

May 13, 2012
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Day 17 — There are many mysteries in the universe. If there were one truth I could learn, it would be: what the hell am I here for?
Day 18 — I would agree or disagree that high school is/was the time of my life… Because: Disagree — high school was boring. Being an adult is much more fun and a lot more freedom.
Day 19 — The film that best describes how my day-to-day life feels is: The Pest or Kung Fu Hustle.
Day 20 — I’m half naked, cold, tired, hungry, hurt, wet and just washed up on a deserted island. The first things I need to do to survive is…survey the area, look for food and water, look for things to use as clothing and/or shelter.
Day 21 – The person or persons that do not read my blog but I wish he/she/they would is: the silly bitches my landlord brings home, my ex-husbands, my brothers and a couple of former friends.
Day 22 — Allowing another person to fully love me means they must: accept me as I am, warts, california sunshine and all.
Day 23 — Allowing another person to fully love me means I must: let other people make mistakes and do dumb things without throwing stones.
Day 24 — Given the choice between having to live the rest of my life without my voice, or living the rest of my life without the ability to hear, I would choose: losing my voice.
Day 25 — My biggest pet peeve that has nothing to do with blogging, being online, computers or anything else related to the Internet is: it’s the 21st century and I’m still being judged because of my skin color.
Day 26 — I would break the law to save a loved one if: can’t say I would break the law to save a loved one. This scenario is completely foreign to me.
Day 27 — I have an inner voice, and if a friend spoke to me the way my inner voice does at times: I would wonder who let that nut job loose on the street.
Day 28 — If I could do one thing that is socially unacceptable and know I would not be judged, I would: walk around naked in the summertime.
Day 29 — My television is showing the same show on every channel. I really don’t mind watching ____________ (from the 1960′s) and I really love this show because: I have two–the original Star Trek series; it was a blueprint, but we didn’t know it at the time and the original Twilight Zone, for the same reason.
Day 30 — One question or subject matter if I were asked here on 30 Days of Blogging Honesty I know I would refuse to answer or definitely lie about is: I’mleaving thisone blank, because I’ve probably answered that question already on a different site.


Day 19 — The film that best describes how my day-to-day life feels is:

April 19, 2012
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The Pest or Kung Fu Hustle.


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