Brandelyn: Lyrical Contradiction

            A few months ago, Essence Magazine did this thing where they had celebrity women write a letter to their younger selves, giving them advice about how to handle the mistakes they will eventually make and words of wisdom from their older selves. This morning, for some odd reason, I felt the need to pick up one of my old journals. The first page was dated July 18^th, 1999, my 20^th birthday. I kept talking about how excited I was that I wasn’t a teenager any more and that I was actually in my 20’s! LOL!! It became painfully clear that throughout the course of this journal, I had exactly two goals in life. One was to attend Fisk University (now, present day, I can’t remember why I was so adamant about going to this particular school, but I was dead set on going) and my second goal in life was to pledge Delta. Every decision I made in my life and every step I took was strategically planned and dedicated toward the achievement of both of those goals. I was completely focused! I had my eyes on the prize! Nothing was going to stop me! LOL!! Man. Its crazy though because reading through this journal, I look back at my relationships, friendships, crushes, and goals and its like watching a scary movie you’ve seen a million times! You want to yell out to the screen “RUN GIRL!! DON”T STOP! AW MAN, TURN LEFT GIRL, TURN LEFT!!!!!! AW DAMN!!! SHE TURNED RIGHT!”

            As I continue to read through this journey, I can’t help but to be amazed at my innocence. I actually wrote about dating someone who actually told me that he didn’t know why he was

with me because he thought I was beneath him. … … … … Excuse me? I had to take a moment to pause there. My reaction in that situation, as a 20 year old was to change myself and adapt to whatever he wanted. My reaction almost 7 years later is quite different. But that is a whole other blog that would probably end with me going to jail, but we’ll talk about that later! LOL!! Anyway, I wish I could write my younger self a letter. Let my younger self know that it’s okay to love herself and to embrace her so-called flaws. Its okay to be goal oriented and to achieve more then what is expected of her. It is okay to dream and fight for those dreams. I would tell myself that any adaptation of self in order to please is a clear indication that he simply is not the one for her. I would tell myself that she is the only one holding herself back because she is the only one in control of her decisions. I would tell myself not to be caught up in the fantasy of the thing and look at something for what it truly is, not for what she has created it to be in her mind. I would tell myself not to hold on to the petty arguments and differences of opinion. To embrace the true friendships she has been blessed with and hold on to them for dear life because true friendship is the most precious thing in the world. I would tell myself that it is okay to be a silly, funny, crazy, spontaneous, giving, loving, open, honest, creative, and full of life as she feels the need to be. I would tell myself not to be so hard on her Mother and to truly appreciate her for everything she is and to tell her mom that she loves her more. I would tell myself that instead of complaining about what she doesn’t have, truly appreciate everything that she does have. I would tell myself to love life with everything she has and to love like she have never had her heart broken, because trust me buttercup, it is coming!!

            It was interesting seeing the little me. I wonder what I will be saying about my journals ten years from now! LOL! Lord, I can only imagine. But I’m so glad I have been able to shed myself of the mentality I had all those years ago, and even though I do still make mistakes, it is really comforting to know that I can look back and grow from them. Even if there are a few tears and bruises along the way.

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            “I wrote to get the stench of love lost off of my being. I wrote because crying was not sufficient. I wrote basically to save the me I had grown to appreciate. And once again, I found words utterly freeing.” Jill Scott

            Yesterday I got an unexpected surprise. The advance copies of my book finally arrived at my office, even though I wasn’t expecting them until Thursday. When I opened the box, I can’t explain it. I wasn’t as freaked out as I was the first time I saw a copy of my book. I was excited to finally hold it in my hand and I ran right over to my ROSE’s office and gave her a copy, but the mind blowing euphoria that I initially felt wasn’t there this time. I went home yesterday, took the most ridiculous nap known to man and woke up and started thinking. As I sat on my living room floor listening to the new India.Arie album, it dawned on me, that I wasn’t super amped because this was the norm. The level of excitement I felt was normal, and necessary; yes I am excited about this book, no I can’t wait to get it in the hands of as many people as I possibly can, yes this is yet another dream come true, but this is exactly how it should be. I should be getting boxes with copies of my book in them. I should be stressing about book signings and promotion and of course writing, because that’s what I am. I’m a writer.

            It’s funny because I get approached ALL the time by people who are inspired to write a book. I take each approach as a form of flattery because to me, that means that my work has inspired someone to do something greater then themselves, but at the same time, people just don’t know. As with any craft, writing is not easy. You have to be passionate about it. There is a lot of research, editing, digging, reaping, pain, laughter and life that goes into each and every strand of words. It is not just something that can be tossed together and printed out and viola! You have a book. It’s not like that.

This is what I do, what I love, but sometimes, it feels like its too much and I don’t feel like doing it anymore. So I put my pen down, and walk away from it. But every time I do I feel like a piece of me is missing. Like I’m not really Brandelyn unless I have my face in a book, a pen in my hand and a journal in my purse. Its more then just producing books. Its more then just entertaining my readers. It’s about verbally shaking off all of life that is trying to swallow me up and silence me. I can only imagine where I would be if I didn’t have this outlet. Last night, India.Arie said that she used to keep everything bottled up. That she would hold everything inside and practically go crazy until she started writing songs. Once she started writing songs, she was able to express herself and get things out and off her chest. I feel that. I started writing as away to release myself from the hurt of my first love, of a broken dream, of disappointment in myself, of feeling that I would never really be good at something. Yeah, these were selfish reasons initially, but all of the things I was hoping to accomplish with my writing were accomplished. But something even bigger occurred. I know now, that I am a writer. If for no other reason then my own sanity, I am a writer.

“I will write

Ina way that will surprise you

Shock you and offend

Ignite and impregnate

Some

It is the cause and the purpose my sweets

Poets must think and re think

I will write

Ina way that will make you love me

Well some of you

I am thinking

Think too

You must not always agree

You must not believe me higher

I am a poet

This is my job

I will write”

~Jill Scott

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Okay…we all know about my various adventures on the buses here in the bay area…um…yesterday, I was not actually ON the bus, but it was clear that I was meant to witness this moment in TOMFOOLERY HISTORY…

I was walking down the street, on my way to meet my girl. It was 94 degrees yesterday and I was loving EVERY single moment of it!!! So I’m just walking, letting the sun plant kisses on my face, enjoying the quiet of the Thursday afternoon. There is a bus coming up the street, seemingly minding its own business. All of a sudden, this non-descript white van comes tearing up the street, running a red light and pulls up next to the bus. The driver is cussing and screaming through his passenger window at the bus driver, just acting a fool! SO the van screeches to a halt in the middle of the street, slightly blocking off the bus, all while the driver continues to cuss and scream. The bus driver then slides his window open and in a very calm voice says...

            BUS Driver: “What. are you doing?”

            VAN Driver: “F you! You F’ing Bastard…(screams some other stuff I can’t remember)”

            BD: “Look man, move your car so I can go on about my way.”

            VD: “F You! You F’in Black…”

The world froze at that moment as we waited for him to finish his sentence.

            VD: “Bastard!!!!!”

At this point, the bus turns off, and the bus driver gets off the bus and practically sprints to the driver side of the van. (Mind you this still all going on in the MIDDLE of the street!) He gets to the driver side and tries to open the door. Now of course the man inside has rolled up the windows and locked the door.

            BD: Oh, now you’re scared? Open the door. Come one open the door and face me like a man. I’ll show you what a black bastard is…Come on!

            VD: Mumbles something through the window’s glass.

            BD: Come on!! Come on out. Don’t tell me you’re scared. Come on out!

At this point, it is clear that the van driver has two choices. He can either get out fight this large black man, OR drive away.

            He drove away.

However, the Bus driver was standing near the van and was almost hit by the wheels as the VD tried to drive away. So the driver of the bus kicked the van, extremely hard, no doubt leaving a dent. The Van driver, who had positioned his van in such a way that was blocking the bus in, clipped the bus with his van as he attempted to drive away, leaving his mirror in the middle of the street.  The bus driver then runs back to the bus, gets back inside and takes off.

Now the problem is that this particular bus is supposed to turn on a certain street in order to continue on its route, but apparently, today was not the day. So the bus driver continued going straight up the street, bypassing the street it was supposed to turn on and continued to smash, chasing after the van. And yes, in case you were wondering, there WERE people on the bus.

Um…yes. This is yet another moment in TOMFOOLERY AND BALLYWHO history!

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            If you know me at all, you know that I have an addiction to VH1 Soul…that is the BEST channel ever made! It features a truly eclectic mix of conscience hip-hop, neo soul live music and OLD school videos from WAY back in the day! I’m talking videos from the 80’s and 90’s, stuff you haven’t seen or even thought about in YEARS!!! It is honestly nothing for me to sit and watch this channel and literally fall out from the tomfoolery that it constantly brings! I love it! For example, last night, the run down featured, “Superwoman” by Karyn White, “N.E. Heartbreak” by New Edition, “Dial my heart” by the Boys and” One more chance” by Biggie…Yes, quiet the eclectic mix. But it made me start to really miss music. I remember in high school, anytime a Biggie record came on, it was OVER! The whole party would go crazy! OR making up dance routines on Nana’s stereo to the new New Edition tape, or singing my heart out with Mom’s favorite brush to the new DeBarge record. Man, those were the days! Now days, people have to hold national caucus’ to figure out how to take our music back. Back from the materialistic, disrespectful, degrading place it has drifted down to! I’m not sure when we as a people became so over sexualized and single minded, but I don’t even bother listening to the radio any more. I’m tired of being yelled at and made to feel like I am less of a woman for not giving it up at the first sight of gold teeth! I know I’m getting old because I’ll hear someone singing something, or mention a new artist, and I have no clue who they are talking about. So, instead, I get all my new music tips from VH1 Soul and I’m cool with that. I just got my new favorite CD by a new artist Corrine Bailey Rae (GREAT CD!!!)  and I’m content with that. I miss those days of choreographed routines and matching outfits. I miss the harmonies and lyrical ingenuity. I miss live music and the possession of the ability to not only sing live, but to just blow the audience out of the water!!!! I know we have a small handful of artist who are actually fighting to remain true to their roots and not what’s popular, but it’s because of that they are not as big as they should be. We should be seeing more Jill Scott’s and India Arie’s and Bilal’s on MTV and mainstream media. All we have right now is Christina Aguilera holding it down for all of the TRULY talented people out there! (Don’t make that face! That girl is awesome and count me in as a fan! THANKKKK YOUUUUU!!!) But honestly, the portrayal of who we are through music is just as bad as the portrayal through literature. While the fashion sense was all things questionable, (MC Hammer pants and mismatched shoes, silk button down shirts and cross colors) the 90’s were a great time for music. The 80’s were a great time for Hip Hop. When did things change? When did gold chains and teeth begin to take the place of the message? When did hair weaves and asses hanging out take the place of actually being able to sing? There have been PLENTY of times where I have been excited about an artist and then went to see them live and heard howling dogs going crazy in the background! Anyone can sing in the studio!! All those buttons and knobs you see on the soundboard are for a reason! They are there to manipulate the voice to make it sound better then it does…and trust me, A LOT of manipulation can take place…CLEARLY!!! I truly do miss the old days…probably because the future is not looking especially bright… I guess until things start to change, VH1 Soul will be my place of refuge!  But a change is gone come, some day!!

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm not sure how i'm feeling right now! LOL! I'm so excited. I logged onto Barnesandnoble.com this morning and typed in the title of my book and it popped right up! I mean...really?! The funny thing is that I sent out about 50 Billion emails about it! LOL! but I don't even have a copy of the dag nab book yet! They should be here any day now, but that is hilarious! I'm so happy. It feels so good to have something finally come together! Anyway, holler at the website, www.beencee.com  for all of the details!! Man, I am so freaking amped!

Peace y'all

B

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            I had lunch with a friend today and she was staring at me and told me that I had a glow. I know that I have the glow that comes with being in love. I’m in love with me and for the first time when I actually say that, I know in my heart that it is actually true! LOL! That’s a really good feeling. Maybe that’s why all of the negative things and people in my life have all but disappeared and the positive and beautiful people, old and new are starting to resurface. Maybe that’s why I have such a big smile on my face…

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I feel as though I have slipped into some sort of alternate universe. All of sudden its raining when its sunny and hot outside, 8.4 (LOL Shut up John!) earthquakes are waking me up out of my sleep, which I have to be honest, is no small feat. The lives of my people are falling shambles and all of this is within the last 48 hours. I just don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to wake up and its going to be Tuesday all over again and I’ll be able to pretend like none of this tomfoolery is happening. Like that 80’s movie Groundhog’s day where Bill Murray keeps waking up to the same day and he gets to keep reliving it until he gets it right. I keep feeling like that is going to happen. I even contemplated wearing the same thing to work today that I did yesterday, but LOL, that I vetoed that idea. It’s gotten so bad that I have just honestly decided not answer my phone anymore. And I never check my messages; so if you have the email address, holler at me! LOL! Well maybe it won’t get that bad, but man, this has just been too much. I guess the one good thing that has come from all of this is that I am learning or have learned, depending on how you look at it, that I cannot transfer other peoples problems to myself and make them my own. Of course, my natural maternal instinct kicks in and I want to help, but honestly there is only so much I can do. Man, I really can’t wait to get back to my apartment this weekend. I’m excited. Maybe all will be right with the world once again if I am back in my own space and I can feel at ease. I just don’t understand though. Is the moon full? Is the tide late? What is going on???

Oh, but on a lighter note…my book, Spoken Silence, is now officially available through my publisher. I just need Barnes and noble to put it up on their sight and we are cool and the gang. I will have my advance copies next week. I can’t wait to hold it in my hands. I’m excited…

Peace Y’all

Brandelyn

Posted by Brandelyn at 12:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Some of you have asked about my new novel. I posted this excerpt on Myspace a few weeks ago to interesting reactions. So i'm posting it here for my new audience. I look forward to your comments, and yes, this is a true story....

B 

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When I imagine my life, I think of long weekends, oils burning, ‘honest music set to guitar strumming’, candles, and warm breezes. I think of laughter and sparkling wine and Sunday dinners and ‘Living Single’ Marathons. I think about poetry and art and museums and bookstores and plays. I think about music and softness. I think about peace.

I’ve always been a dreamer. Always had my head in a book and, dreaming up fantasies and stories that I wished were my own life. I can attribute that to always getting in trouble as a kid and using books to entertain myself when going outside was not an option (hi Mom). But as 27 looms in front of me, I realize that I haven’t been taking full advantage of my dreams. I realize that I have been clinging with my fingertips to the lifestyle I have always imagined for myself, but have yet to make any REAL and drastic moves to make that happen. I realized yesterday while I was at the gym, that I am not fully utilizing my power. I have the power to make some serious decisions about my life and the way I live it, but I am not taking advantage of that right. I asked myself who was it that decided that when you graduated from college you only had one of two choices, 1. Get a job and start building up a 401k and get married and all that jazz or 2. Go to graduate or professional school to prolong the inevitable, i.e. getting a job. Yesterday, in my moment of clarity I realized that I have always done things slightly non-traditionally, and have always sort of blazed my own path. Although I do have a job that I enjoy, whenever someone asks me what I do, I say that I am a writer. First and foremost, but am I? I’ve been half ass working on my new novel, mainly because my job is seeping into my career, slowly sucking away all of my free time. I know now, that I have some serious choices to make in my life.  I know now that I have the capabilities to step outside of the ‘norm’ and make my dreams happen, my way. I’m not too young to create a life for myself. To set myself up so I can actually be a Writer.

In the scope of life, I don’t want things that are far-fetched. I just don’t want to have to answer to anyone, have anyone breathing down my neck asking me to do things and conform my work ethic to fit someone else’s standard. If I need to go home to LA to see my family I want to be able to do that without having to go through anything other than travel arrangements. I want to wake up in the morning and have to pray, not to keep me from hurting somebody, but a prayer of thanks for the fulfillment of promises and dreams. There is absolutely no reason whatsoever that I can’t make these things happen, that I can’t support myself by myself and not be a slave to making money. I just want to be comfortable, I want to be able to live my life, but more importantly be fulfilled by my work. As you get older, I’ve seen it happen a million times, dreams begin to slip and responsibilities begin to take precedence over everything else you try to do. I feel that, but I also feel like this is the last time in my life that I am going to get to be irresponsible. This is my last chance to make decisions based on what Brandelyn wants, so I might as well take advantage.

My book is finally in production and the advance copies will be mailed out to me next week. When I got the email from my publisher, I didn’t get excited; instead, I felt a huge calm wash over me. I felt like I was ready to do this. I was ready to put my dreams into motion and make it happen. I know that I can take the calm feeling I have as a good thing. God does not live in chaos. Just give me a year…just give me a year…

Peace,

B

Posted by Brandelyn at 12:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

          So last night, I had a “Come on Blood!” moment. My Rose and I went to Barnes and Noble because she wanted to find a book and a Grande Caramel Machiotto was calling my name. So we rolled to the BN and perused the aisles, with me happily sucking down my caffeine fix for the day. Now, I have to say that ever since I read Cupcake Brown’s book, I have been really getting into Biography’s, real biographies. By that I mean real stories about real people, who are still alive who are not famous and haven’t saved the world, but have an amazing story that is universal. Cupcakes book is exactly that. So I went over to the section and, yeah…didn’t see anything that caught my eye. No worries, this is Barnes and Noble, home of my novel, I’ll find something to occupy my mind.  So I headed over to the fiction section and began scanning the shelves. Just as a side bar, people really underestimate the power of the book cover. As a writer, the cover is crucial. A striking cover can get someone to just pick up a book and read the cover, and be introduced to a new writer, just off the sheer power of the cover. It’s happened to me a million times. How else do you think I wound up reading “Bling?!” Anyway, as I was scanning, it seemed like every book I picked up that was geared toward Black folks, was so…how do you say…stereotypical, media stereotypical. It seemed like every book I picked up read like this…

            “Having been abandoned by her drug addict mother and beaten up by every man she’s dated, Beautyfull Lashayshay Jackson has given up on the prospect of finding love. Tired of struggling to care for herself and her kids, Beautyfull falls into the sex, drugs and insanity of the stripping world, burying herself in the lifestyle, swearing off the possibility of love and poverty. Tired of giving away her heart for free, Beautyfull swears that the next man she dates will have to have the money to buy her affections.

Lavarius Johnson, an ex-con with a heart of gold, trying to get back on his feet, has all but sworn off women after having his heart broken by one two many women looking for a paycheck and not a boyfriend. When an unexpected death in his family has a surprising pay off, Lavarius suddenly finds himself living the lifestyle he always dreamed about. But as the women that surround him have their eyes on his pockets, he wonders if he can find a woman who can love him for him and not his money.

A chance meeting forces both Lavarius and Beautyfull to question their motives and open themselves up to the possibility of love…”

Now, of course this is an off the top, extremely exaggerated rendering of the tomfoolery I saw last night, but I think it makes my point. I would have to say that with the exception of the Alice and Tony and Gloria, and a view other selects, who, by the way, all happen to be pretty seasoned (read older) in life, this was all BN had to offer. Why does the Black literary world have to be so extreme? Why do we have to be thugs and ho’s or extremely adult political powers? Where is the middle? Where are the twenty something’s that are trying to make it? Where are the college stories that are not just about Sororities and Fraternities? Where are the stories about people? I know that books are meant to be an escape from the real world, but why does the escape have to be so dismal? Why do we constantly have to perpetuate this lifestyle? And why do we continue to support it? Why does the section labeled “African American Interest” filled with “My Baby’s Mama”, and “Yeah, I stabbed the Bitch” and “Chasing Shawntay”?! Is this what African Americans are interested in? Is this what we are drawn to? I guess the answer is yes because there is a HUGE market for this type of material. It took me over an hour to find a book, and I’m still a little skeptical about it. But Toni Morrison has indorsed this author, so we’ll see! But come on! I know too many talented writers with a unique perspective that could honestly rock the literary world!! But most of us are so busy writing that we are not doing anything to put our work out there, myself included. We are being bombarded with these negative images and I personally am tired of it! I am researching ways to stop working and pursue this thing full time. Especially since I know in my heart that I am not equipped to work for other people…I think I got that from my momma! LOL! But for all of my fellow writers and readers…there is an epidemic going on that we must stop! Who’s with me?!

Posted by Brandelyn at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Gray

I have a friend
who is turning gray,
not just her hair,
and I do not know
why this is so.

Is it a lack of vitamin E
pantothenic acid, or B-12?
Or is it from being frantic
and alone?

'How long does it take you to love someone?'
I ask her.
'A hot second,' she replies.
'And how long do you love them?'
'Oh, anywhere up to several months.'
'And how long does it take you
to get over loving them?'
'Three weeks,' she said, 'tops.'

Did I mention I am also
turning gray?
It is because I *adore* this woman
who thinks of love
in this way.

~Alice Walker

Have you ever gone somewhere, like a restaurant or a coffee shop and gotten something that was HELLA good…unexpectedly great to the point where you couldn’t wait to go back and get another one? But then when you go back, its made by a different person, or maybe even by the same person, but it just doesn’t taste or feel the same? Something about it is different and doesn’t have the same impact it once did. Suddenly you’re disappointed and you leave discouraged, upset because you thought that you had found something new. Yet I had the realization recently that this does not only apply to eateries, this can also apply to people.

I recently ran into a guy I talked to for a few months, and when we were dating…man oh man. I thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Everyday was something new and exciting. He would introduce me to new things and experiences and we really had a great time together. It ended ultimately because we were both two moody ass artists with selfish tendencies and high expectations, so things kind of fizzled out, but ended on a good note. No harm done. I ran into him a few weeks ago and for the first day it was just like old times. We laughed and talked and fell right back into our grove. It was great, but then I don’t know. Something changed and I realized that things weren’t the same, or maybe they were just a little too much the same. In the months that we had spent apart, we really became two different people and the distance that was created between us, grew even greater because it just tasted different. I have to admit that I found myself to be disappointed because deep down I always thought I could have something special and long term with this person, but alas (that’s for you De’Aunta) all I could do was leave disappointed and discouraged that things were not meant to be between us. I guess I can say at least I realized this earlier this time instead of investing my feelings again. But man, I wanted it to be like it was the first time.

Maybe I am turning gray. I’m so busy living my life for myself that I acknowledge that I am still closed for renovation. Last night at a poetry spot, I realized after I left that, while I was in the midst of a hodge-podge of beautiful men, I was not checking for a single one of them! And if any of them were checking for me, it would not have made a bit of difference. I am literally unconcerned and unavailable and completely content and happy with that. One day soon, I’ll start taking my B-12 and vitamin E, but for now, I’ll simply enjoy being Gray…

Peace Y’all!

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

            So I was going through the responses of yesterday’s blog and there seems to be a common theme. It seems as though men view black women as (and I’m being extremely general here) money hungry, selfish and self-centered. Black women look at Black men as being underachievers, greedy (especially when it comes to women) and afraid of black women, respectively. The problem with this is that these ideas are very general. Yes there are some women who are gold diggers and will only date men with a certain bank account. But, there are some women, such as myself, who just want a man who is on her level. I’m not necessarily talking about education wise, (we’ll get to that in a minute) but intellectually and financially. I know I’m not balling out of control, but I am taking care of myself, handling my business and getting things done. Why is it wrong for me to expect the man I’m dating to do the same thing? Why am I a considered bourgeois if I want a man who is my match? I’m certainly not asking for much. I’m not a big fan of the dude who comes with expensive gifts and feels like he has to impress me with material things. All that is played! I can buy myself expensive gifts, or other things (Cousin…Carol got me again!!! LOL!!!).  Honestly, I am way more impressed with a man who is simply handling his business and getting things done. To me there is nothing sexier then being able to go kick it over my man’s apartment and its all his, just being able to go to his house, just like he can come to mine and spend time with each other. Its not really about the apartment, its more about the pride and confidence that comes from having something that’s yours. That is sexy as hell! But I digress…

            Anyone who knows me knows that I have mixed feelings about formal education. If you go, or went to a predominately white university like I did, the education received in the classroom is not nearly as valuable as the education received outside. The problem with top tier universities is that they teach students that you are the cream of the crop and that you will have a golden ticket in life once you leave this institution. After this ideology has been engrained into your head for four or five, or six (LOL) years, people begin to rely on these lies. They begin to think of themselves as ‘better than’ just because they go to this school, or they have a degree from this school. They begin to look at people who chose not to go to school, or who didn’t have or didn’t take advantage of the educational opportunities we may have had that would have allowed them to get into college. We begin to look down on people who opted out of the traditional path and are trying something else. Especially Black people. Now of course I’m not speaking of the individuals who simply have no hope and are content with just chillen’ in the corner…I mean, to each his own. But I am more so speaking about the brotha who has a job, or is taking classes at the community college, or vocational school, just trying to make it happen. We get caught up in the thinking that if that person doesn’t take the path we have been told is the ‘correct path’ then they are not worth our time. I have seen it a million times. A Black woman with a degree (we won’t even call it an education) will not even give a brotha without a degree a chance, or if she does, deep down, she is telling herself the reasons why it would not be considered settling because he has a good job or he treats her right or whatever. She tries to think of ways to justify her non-degree holding man to her friends, who will always ask about that, for reasons I still have yet to figure out. Or on the flip side, a Black man with a degree will more then likely not date a Black woman with a degree because they are too challenging or have too high expectations. Essentially, they won’t take any shit from them, so they opt to go for the women who will “appreciate’ them without asking for too much. The problem is that we are all so busy trying to prove our worth to each other, that the competition overwhelms what’s important. I feel like it’s almost to the point where we are going to start wearing t-shirts with our resumes displayed on them. An instant indication of whether or not someone is worth our time.

            I think that as a people, we need to learn to deprogram ourselves and start looking at people as individuals. We have a natural tendency to stereotype ourselves without even taking the time to get to really know each other. Like I said yesterday, if you meet someone and you have an attraction to them, just run with it. Let go of your preconceived ideas and see what happens. Honestly, what could it hurt to step outside of your box and try?

Posted by Brandelyn at 10:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

            Recently I had a conversation about Black men with a couple of Black men that I admire a lot. We were discussing the ratio of men to women in college and the epidemic of Black men leaving sisters behind for others. This conversation wasn’t your typical discussion on this topic, but rather I got a lot of insight. Now before I go on, let me state for the record that I firmly believe in the credo, ‘to each his own.’ If you want to get you a white girl, then get a white girl. The only time I have a genuine problem with it is when, and I have seen this happen on numerous occasions, a brother who is dating a white girl will drop her hand, or step slightly away from her when he sees a sista coming his way. Come on man, if that’s your girl, then be with your girl. Yes, we see you with your white girl, but we are also going to think that you are weak if you can just leave your girl hanging just because another Black woman is walking in your direction. Anyway, I digress.

            I can honestly say, that in my eyes, Black men are the best thing since sliced bread. I love them, and yes, Brothas I realize how difficult it is to be a black man in this country. You are constantly being bombarded with images of crime and success equals money, cars, gold teeth and big booty women. Education is becoming less and less accessible and the Black family has honestly all but disappeared. It’s scary to think that a Black man surviving past the age of 21 is a minor miracle in about 80 percent of this country. Constantly, daily, Black men are being told that they aren’t shit and will never be shit in this country. You can only be told something so many times before you begin to believe it. So it is no wonder that a Brotha who was able to escape these barriers, get past this thinking and get an education and define his own measure of success, is a hot commodity amongst Black women.

            Talking with my boys the other night, they explained that a lot of times these men have too many options and take advantage of these options because they know they can. I personally dated a man who told me that because he had more than one degree behind his name and that he had a job and his own place that I was the one who needed to work to keep his attention. I needed to show him how interested I was in him, and prove to him that I was worth his time and interested enough in him to keep him around. Needless to say he got dropped like a bad habit, but honestly, you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.  I could have stayed with him and sacrificed myself in order to please him, or I could date someone who stands for something completely opposite of my ideals, or I could just get a couple of cats and call it a day. What is the answer? I know one thing is that a lot of times we overlook that good brotha who is trying to do his thing. A lot of times we set in our minds this perfect ideal who is exactly every single thing you think the perfect man should be. I hate to say it, but that doesn’t exist. No one is perfect and everyone will do and say things that will get on your nerves, or that you don’t like, but the trick is to find someone who is most compatible with you and make it work. Find someone who is perfect for you and step out of the fantasy created by television and the media. There are so many good men who just want to treat you right and be good to you but may not fall into the educational, or financial criteria you may have set for yourself. Instead of complaining that there are no good Black men out there, maybe we should stop discounting men before they even open their mouths. The media is doing an excellent job of breaking brothas down, but Sistas, so are we. Maybe that is something we should think about.

Peace!

Posted by Brandelyn at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

            It is a really beautiful thing when you realize that you love someone. I’m not specifically talking about being ‘in love’ with someone, on a relationship level. I’m talking about the love you have for someone who is going to be in your life forever. I’ve been staying at my friends house for the past week or so (long story) but we have been friends for about five years now…(Wow, has it been that long?!) and he is someone that I can say I genuinely love. I know that if he ever needed anything, it wouldn’t even be a question, and vice versa. That is an amazing feeling to know that someone has your back. And its not like we talk every day!  There are times when we don’t talk for months at a time. We will pass those little “Hey I was just thinking about you, hope everything is cool, get at me” messages, or crack little jokes about each other on our facebook pages, but we won’t actually see each other or have a conversations for a minute. But when we do finally hook up, we talk for hours, fill each other in, work everything out and its like no time has passed! I love that kind of friendship! The ones that are extremely low maintenance and incredibly worthwhile. There are those people, that you know without a doubt are going to be in your life forever. I’m going to send my kids to him for their check-ups and various medical needs (because Brandelyn does not do body fluids, or blood, or anything pertaining to being sick or whatever… I am not the one!!!!!!!!!) But it is so true when they say that the friends you make in college are the friends you will have forever. I have some truly incredible people in my life. Amazing. They are all a little, shall we say touched, but birds of a feather…so its all good! LOL! But I was thinking this weekend how blessed I am to have the friends in my life. People dating all way back to freshman year in college during those good ole Xavier days…to my 04’s from Cal…My ROSAS and my “sands”, my little homies that I have watched grow into mature young men and women…people that have enriched my life so much, just by being themselves. I often wonder how different my life would be had I made just one different decision. Like what if I had actually gone to Davis instead of Berkeley? (I know, perish the thought, but it almost happened…) Or what if I had stayed at Xavier those four years…where would I be right now? That’s crazy how one turn can change your entire life. I love the possibility of the day. I guess Forrest was right…you never know what you’re gonna get, but man is it fun to sample!!!

*AC Transit story of the day…So my cousin and I were in OAKLAND waiting for the bus. A man, who was not quite homeless looking with all of his gold and turquoise jewelry and fresh shoes on, was approaching everyone who passed him and asking for money. Not uncommon, however, it was his style of approach that warrants this shout out. Cousin and I are standing there, minding our own business and all of a sudden we hear “Aye, aye you…give me some change so I can get me a GotDamn drink…” Cousin and I turn and look behind us to see what the commotion is about, and we see ole boy standing there looking at us expectantly with his hand out. Cousin, who had just come back from buying a soda says, “I just told you that I didn’t have any change when you asked me inside the store…” He replies… ‘Oh that’s right…I didn’t see you from the front…I was just looking at you from behind” as he proceeds to bend down and take a closer look at Cousin’s behind…Next thing I know, I turn around and dude is like an inch away from me…I move and he starts yelling, “you ain’t got to move and get all scared…I’m not gonna do anything to you…people always wanna get all scared and Sh*t…I ain’t gonna do nothin’ to y’all, I’m just tryna get some change so I can get me a GotDamn drink.” Cousin and I look at him, then each other, and proceed to turn back to the street to continue waiting for the bus. Next thing we know…ole boy is talking to a group of Latino ladies that had approached the bus stop. “Damn…are we in the land of the midgets?” he says yelling at the group of tiny women, ‘I mean damn…I know I’m tall, but you all are midgets…do you think you will ever grow? How can you live being that GotDamn short? Aye, do y’all have some change so I can get my GotDamn drink?”…

Yes…another wonderful day in the life of an AC Transit rider! LOL!!!!!!!!!! sigh….

Posted by Brandelyn at 10:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)