Showing posts from November, 2017

12:24 AM

My gran is explaining the story of how she found out my mother was on crack. How she thought my mother was just sick and she called the ambulance. They took her to the hospital and one of the nurses said, "Lord! I'm so tired of chasing these crackheads!" And my grandmother asked, "What is a crackhead?" I asked my gran how she felt when the nurse said that about her daughter, her first born child, and she said, "I didn't feel nothing. I didn't know nothing about crack. Had never heard of it. But I ain't have no time to feel. Social services was ready to take y'all and I said, 'No, I'll keep the kids.' I was in and out of court. It was hell. My life was hell." She said this was the fall of 1986.  Anyways my mom called over here today and she didn't ask about me or my siblings. I ain't seen her in 3 years. And I didn't want to see her today so I'm glad I didn't have to be phony. I don't hate her. I just

Love Rampage No. 5

I love.  I love.  I love.  I love how vivid my dreams are.  I love how I saw myself exactly where I want to be.  I love how my loved ones were right there with me.  I love how easy it is to make my dreams my reality.  I who who I am this morning.  I love how my week ended.  I love how my sweat shirt fits into my sweat pants into my boots.  I love my denim jacket.  I love my big wild hair.  I love my classroom. I love not having first period. I love breathing.  I love relaxing. I love letting everything happen.  I love seeing my lover in my dreams. I love waking up next to him, up under him.  I love seeing Tay on the side of us.  I love that Tay knows I am his home.  I love that I did not get angry with Tay today for being disobedient.  I love how he has taught me to be a better mom.  I love knowing.  I love not knowing.  I love sleeping.  I love good meals.  I love seeing everything from a beautiful perspective. I love how I handled this rude woman last night.  I love that I knew it wa

of a young bird

there's this theory  when the seasons change our internal moods shift as well. felt myself..   like watching waves crawl back into the ocean  under a dark mooned night.. like the lone white feather that trails in the shadows floating below summer blue leaves  felt it coming to a slow burn like the tip of my black  crushing against my gold asher crashing.  but it doesn't hurt doesn't even tingle  my steps were inches apart  to go home to an empty place  to be home in a desolate space  movement along the streets became such a struggle   i hailed a car  justified because the A train was the last place I needed to be under these conditions  underground  too dark under  too low  but  avoiding it is as impossible  as not avoiding it  still low in this window  this one candle lit room living space for one sounds like a phone off its hook no one to hang it back up no silence in this cave but

How to Thrive:

Meditate  Opportunities are outside of your comfort zone Visionary not victim Educate yourself 


We viewed prints from Kerry James Marshall's self portrait series. Then, we watched Oprah interviewing First Lady Obama. They were talking about the term, "angry black woman..." We went into a deep discussion about being mislabeled and how it affects our self-esteem.  It was disheartening to hear the girls talk about being called loud, ghetto, mean or even bougie for getting good grades. What pained me even more was to hear how they have tried to change themselves because of the name calling.  "Conceded" was the name that bothered them most. Like me, at their age, I was often called conceded and was taught that it was a bad thing to have any form of self love. I was to be humble, modest, and meek. All words that were wrongly defined in my mind, at the time. "Val think she all that!" was the phrase that made me hate the very  flaws, in which   I learned as an adult, were my greatest strengths. But back then, I tried my best to beli