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Showing posts from October, 2018

Poem about Loving Myself

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making videos  that are just for me  to remind me  of how much  I have to love  about me  for no other reason  than to maintain  my self-awareness  aka my key to consistent  bouts of sanity.  I control my highs and lows  with little love notes to Self  like these.  Took almost four years of therapy for me to understand:  I cannot be effective in my service to the youth  if I am not pouring into  myself, intentionally and on a daily.
I am naked.  dry fro,  bare face,  in my granddad’s old hoodie.  I see no flaws,  even though I know what’s  behind that smile  and beneath those eyes lids  when they are closed too long.  But I study war no more.  I don’t look at myself  and self-loathe.  I self-soothe. Holla, “Yas queen!  You confident bish! You creative heaux! Be soft.  Be vulnerable.  Be carefree.” Because those  are the best parts of me, illuminating those  amplifies the light in me. 

Via IG: Biking

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To be a teacher with a mental illness is to implement specific daily routines in your life. After I was diagnosed in 2015, I sold my ‘97 vintage droptop BMW and began walking and biking everywhere. Ain’t had a car since and won’t be getting one (until I become a mom) ... why? Because fresh air on my face reassures me that I am alive... sometimes I cry on my walks home... sometimes I listen to the birds on my way to school... and sometimes, when my heels are too high, I Uber and ask the driver to play some classical piano forte... I learned to do this from experience. I had to teach myself what I like... I didn’t know any other black girls who lived in service of others that understood what it was like to wake up some days and not want to leave the house at all because the voices were so loud the night before that she got no sleep. I really thought I was alone. Journals filled with secret ruminations... confused and lost but at the same time, clear and found. Still, I knew no one else …

Photo Analysis PT 1

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The resilient wilted roses are my sunrise and moon-set. Life and death. Beautiful either way. That’s how’s this new generation of kids see things. Extremists. Why you think the suicide rate is up? 
The “A Note to Self Journal” was the anchor for my self healing; it prepared  my consciousness to do the work of healing myself before I serve the children. I ordered the one behind it for my partner. Heal together, flourish forever.
“It Didn’t Start with You” is my latest read. “Much of this book focuses on identifying inherited family patterns— the fears, feelings, and behavior we’ve unknowingly adopted that keep the cycle of suffering alive from generation to generation.” Every teacher must read this. And if you know me, you know I consider us all teachers, therefore, every human should read this. 


10:16PM

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NP: Blue in Green by Miles Davis
I love being able to write.  
I love being able to breathe slowly and smile at what I feel. 
I love knowing my timing is always perfect. 
I love starting over and making the old new and the new elevate and the elavation permenant. 
I love showing the journey of my healing.
I love seeing my peers growing with me. 
I love love. 
I love. 
I love. 

The Morning Routines of a Real One

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I used to be really good and strict with morning routines—and seasonal, at that, because I would change them as I needed. But now that I’m in love, it’s really been hard to maintain a daily routine.
After a summer of staying clear away from routines, I stepped into September with a desire to be organized. Here’s where I started. On the first day of school, I told myself, “I’m going to wake up early, meditate for 15 minutes, hit the gym for 15 minutes, read, write, and then go to school.” That would be my morning routine.
But it was hard to do all of them every morning and still be on time for work. Yesterday, I did do all of them, but today, I can only do one of them, which is create—I have to go write some lesson plans. This reminded me that just last week I had the idea to do one of them each day: running Monday mornings, art on Tuesday mornings, writing on Wednesday mornings, read on Fridays, sleep in on the weekends if I am not traveling. But today, I thought I could do all of them—…