What I'm Thankful For....

Today there's so much
frustration abound...
there's hate in the world
so much darkness around

But in spite of that ache
in spite of that pain
There's much that makes me
Feel joy again
With a grateful heart
I remember each thing
remember each one

So I can begin again

A son graduating
Another finding his voice
One pulling his own
A daughter finding her joy
A marriage sustaining
And still growing closer
Finding new friendships
And growing strong

Able to withstand

I'm grateful for courage
For transparency
For clarity of mind
And more than anything

I'm so grateful
Today was a day
to be grateful.

You Being More

A mother working hard
Cuz each dollar counts
So every hour that she can
She's there on her grind

But this leaves a dilemma
Because suddenly there's
no help
no net
and she's truly alone.

No family or friend
Who will lend
a hand...
Just a society that
says well
what did you expect...

But she's steady working
and steady treading
water it seems
there's no end in sight
what more can be done
but work
one hour more.

And they scoff
at her tries
and wonder
why
her kids are a mess
and her house might be too
her cupboards are bare
don't you know
there's places to help you

But where can you go
when you work all you can
cuz each dollar counts
and there's no safety net
and the help that they think
you can easily get
is no longer there
does anyone care

so you who is working
as hard as you can
barely staying afloat
barely able to stand
don't quit
just know
that there are those that see
and we're trying to
be
what we can
be
to make a difference

and you who is judging
and sitting so far
why not leave your bubble
why not see who
'they' are
these 'those' that you
tsk
and shake your head at
please quit 
and know
that there are those
whose lives
aren't as easy as yours
and we need you to
be
what you can
be
to change the world

and not just
one blanket
one sandwich
one sweater
one scarf
one chair
one washcloth
one ride
isn't enough

we need you
to give more of
yourself.
your time
your talents
your friendship
your love.

Because she's steady working
and steady treading
water it seems
there's no end in sight
what more can be done...

what more can be done?

you being more.

It's a humanity thing.

I will never ever ever understand people who think that things are equitable in this country.  That each person has the same opportunities. The same chances they have.

The 'they'd get a job if they wanted a job' or 'pull yourselves up by your bootstraps' or 'just work hard' kind of folks.  I really wonder if they realize that not everyone's reality is their reality.  


And before you get into making a statement that will get yourself in trouble....I'm not trying to make this a race thing or political thing or gender thing. Not even a financial thing. A have and have not thing.

It's a humanity thing.

Some folks need help. Support. And I'm not talking about tangible help and support.

But someone to love them.
To encourage them.
To give them hope.
To listen.
To help them see.
To be present.

Who are the people in your life...that you need to see.

Who are the kids, those kids you don't let your kids play with....that need love.
Who are the parents, the parents you think don't know how to parent....that need encouragement.
Who are the neighbors, the isolated and recluse that you think are odd...that need hope.
Who are the coworkers, those that irritate you with their presence....that need someone to listen.
Who are the narrow minded, the critical you have written off....that just can't see.
Who are the lonely around you....trying each day to get through...that just need your presence.

You might think...I don't have those people in my life.

You do. I guarantee you.  You do.

But you haven't seen them.
Or chosen to see them.
But they are there just the same.

If you didn't have love, or encouragement, or hope, or someone to listen, or the ability to see or the presence of another....who would you be?  Where would you be?

Find them.

And you don't need to go to a shelter, a pantry, a mission, the "inner city" to find them.
Because "they"?  Are we.

Don't believe me?  Reread the list above.

Then start opening your eyes...and get to

Loving
Encouraging
Hoping
Listening
Seeing
Being.

That's what I got today.

Hope for Me.

Figuring out who I am after almost 21 years of marriage...being a parent for 27 years...working full time over 25 years...struggling with a diagnosis of bipolar isn't easy.  What I'm finding is that often I feel like I'm finding out more about who I am not than who I am. But I am more interested in who I am becoming than who I was. 

Two years ago I faced an honest truth that I needed to be under doctor's care for my bipolar diagnosis. For about 8 years I had been handling it myself....with a holistic approach...which progressively was not working.  Despite my best efforts and faith and hope and prayers...I had not been healed. But honestly, I did not need to be. Because there was a way for me to have a clear mind and emotional stability....and I knew that I had to take care of myself. For me that means medicine.  Being under a psychiatrist's care for the past 2 years has given me new perspective.

A year ago my husband and I became empty nesters. This was going to be unchartered territory for me. We had children before we were married and I had never been just a wife. I had a lot of apprehension about that. In the midst of figuring that out....I knew I had to figure myself out as well. 6 weeks into the new reality I wrote a blog about some of things that I was discovering. I went back and read it.  There were some good thoughts there.  I've gained a lot of new perspective over a year later. 

I'm not sure why I feel compelled to share this. But I know with every fiber that I am, that I am supposed to.  I don't know if that's God's prompting....the Holy Spirit's leading....or just my own vain need to share....but here it goes.

1. I am afraid. There is so much that scares me. Some health concerns have me wondering what is really going on. The safety of my children in this world that seems set upon killing young black men and hating my daughter for who she loves. My husband and I growing apart in a way that can't be repaired. My parents aging. Dying young. (that's always been there and sometimes I think symptomatic of my bipolar/depression.) So much.

2. I am insecure. For all I am certain about...there is so much more that I doubt. My abilities even at things I know that I know how to do can cause me to doubt. I fear that I am not enough of _____. Whatever it is. Kind enough. Motivated enough. Dedicated enough. Beautiful enough. (not speaking of just looks.)

3. I have forgotten how to sparkle.  I know it's there. I have the best dear ones who remind me to let all of my lovely glitter fall and whoever gets sprinkled, well lucky them. But it's like it's just under the surface and can't get out. I'm not sure if that makes any sense....it's the best way I know how to explain it.

4. I am complacent. I think somehow in all of my adult life of learning the amazing gift of being content with life and what is (because I do think that is something we do not do enough of learning)...I became complacent. It's not that I don't have dreams...but it's almost as though stepping into the unknown is too big a risk and that is all they remain.

Rereading this list. You might think that it makes me feel stuck or frustrated or even full of anxiety. But it doesn't. It makes me take a deep breath. And a bigger exhale. Because I have always been someone that believes once you name something and own something it no longer owns you. And though I believe the above is true....seeing it written down and spelled out...I also know the following is true.

1. I am badass. And I have faced fear before and remained standing.  I have come through some crazy shit. Fear has no hold on me. And I continue to live life. To seek answers for my health issues. To allow my children to live and experience their truth. To work hard everyday at my 20 year marriage. To enjoy my parents and seeing them live their best lives. To fully live. For however long that is.

2. I am powerful. Even in the places I doubt...and times that I question...I am enough. I do not have to be perfect. I don't have to be any more or less that who I am. If in a moment I am not kind, I am not motivated, I am not dedicated, I am not beautiful....it is okay. It is good.

3. I see the start of my sparkle. In my heart and tummy....there is the tickling of glitter that is ready to bust out of me. It's a ripple affect really.  When I am surrounded by other's allowing themselves to sparkle....whatever that looks like...I feel the beginning of my shine. When I have other's reminding me that they can see glimpse of my shine...I know that sparkle is coming.

4. I can move. There is nothing wrong with being content. In fact, I still value it as important and believe that we must do a better job of teaching our children to be content in the moment. But I do not want to be complacent. I do not want to smugly think that this is all there is. That I've fulfilled all there is to fulfill. I'm ready for risk.

Thinking about the 2nd list causes a little anxiety, but not as much as it gives me hope.

And for as dark and ugly as the world around me can seem sometimes. And as frustrated and angry as I can get at people. I am about hope. Always hope for others.

But it makes me smile in ways I can't explain to have hope for myself. 

That word....

There's been a lot in our local (Milwaukee area) news lately about the 'n' word. While I know some are comfortable spelling out or saying this word, I am not so just know throughout this text I will say the 'n' word.

Shorewood, a predominantly white high school in a predominantly white city...recently has been in the news/social media because they planned to perform To Kill A Mockingbird. I'm not sure at what point in the process students and parents began to express their concern for this....but the week before it was set to hit the stage....all hell broke loose. Maybe those opposing the performance began to express themselves with more fervor, maybe more folks took notice, maybe the 'right' folks took notice, but either way it led to a back and forth by the district to decide what exactly they were going to. After some backlash and a strong social media presence of those opposing the performance, they held a community forum to discuss this issue and announced they would only perform a dress rehearsal for the actors and their guests. After continued uproar and a threatening social media post on Instagram where a young man posted 'Fuck all the watermelon eating n***ers at Shorewood High School. We are the KKK and we're going to hang you at the play To Kill a Mockingbird 10/17/18', they decided not to carry on with any performance.

Greendale, a predominantly white high school in a predominantly white city...recently has been in the news/social media because of a black student who was suspended after VERBALLY defending herself against a white student who called her the 'n' word for at least a 2nd time. Administration felt that she APPEARED to be threatening in the video of the exchange in a hallway of the school so they suspended her and called the police in to talk to her-about her bordering on 'disorderly conduct' behavior and how it was unfitting of their no tolerance policy. This amidst other black students stepping forward to share that they as well have experienced this-being called racial slurs. The mother of the student has attempted to have the suspension overturned and get the district to realize that her daughter's response to being repeatedly called the 'n' word....is indicative of a deeper issue at the school. Her concerns have been met with canned cut'n'paste responses from the Principal and school board members.

I had a recent discussion with an acquaintance on FB that led to a heated debate because he wanted to talk about the black students at the school he teaches at, which is primarily black, calling their friends the 'n' word and connect that somehow to the above situations. When I refused to allow the conversation rabbit trail....he became so upset that he told me to just unfriend him...he wasn't going to be censored. So I did.

I have so many thoughts about all of this. My heart is so full because of this. My heart aches for the students of color that have to deal with bullshit on the daily.

It is personal.

As a Mexican/white student in a SUPER white school in a SUPER white town in the 80s, I was 'jokingly' called an illegal alien, I was 'jokingly' chased down the hall in middle school by students pretending to be cops and asking for my green card. I didn't stand up for myself.  Who was I going to stand with?  I uncomfortably giggled, turned red and walked away. And I hid my ethnicity as best I could at school.  I had to figure out how to cope and fit in with all of my white friends and saved my ethnicity for home when I listened to Selena, went to Mexico City with an exchange program and went to my grandma's house.

I think the first time my kids were called the 'n' word, they were at school and in 1st and 2nd grade. It was a daily occurrence and we got phone calls home that they were chasing other kids and hitting other kids. My response, 'We can talk with them about keeping their hands to themselves, but you had better do something about the kids calling them the 'n' word. If not, my boys are going to teach them they had better not say that crap around them.'

One day they came running home, a neighbor had called them the 'n' word in a derogatory way. Because it was a girl, and they knew they couldn't battle with a girl, they came and told me. I went to talk to the parent. I was told, 'I mean, how would she know...black people all call each other that word and if she heard that of course she's going to think it's ok to say that.'  I gave her a lesson quickly that not all black people say that word and even if she has heard that in her presence before, I find it hard to believe that she couldn't recognize the difference between 2 people who know each other saying that in a familiar way and her using it to tell my boys to get lost.  It's not like she went to dap them up and said, 'My 'n' word.' It was used as in, 'N' word get outta here, we don't want to play with you.'

What is it about that word....that makes many white people feel some kind of way about not being able to say it?  There are too many examples of times I have heard and seen white people make comments about 'well black people say it'.....'well I said it with the 'a' vs. 'er'....'it's a teaching tool'.

And I could spend multiple paragraphs giving creative, heartfelt answers with thoughtful and insightful language....spelling out the societal impact the word has....the deep seeded trauma it illicits....explaining what implicit bias is (and yes people you need to learn what that is if you don't know)...even taking time to help foster conversations to provide clarity.  I could.

But. I'm tired.  And frustrated.

So.

White people who want to figure out why some black people are okay with the 'n' word being used within friend and family circles in a familiar or even loving way......just stop.

Why?  Because.  There doesn't always need to be justification that you are comfortable with and approve of. And if you can't accept that?

That my friends is the epitome of white privilege.

A Jumbled Mind

the madness
of a mind
so clouded
that there
isn't a way out
can be

sometimes unexplainable
often uncontrollable
and mostly uncontainable

it can seem
light and smart
and big
and full
of love and soul
yet

sometimes unexplainable
often uncontrollable
and mostly uncontainable

when the
mind is yours
and thoughts
like waves
lash about
yet make you crave
the
out of control
the
can't be still
but still we must be

so the thoughts
and the mind
and the heart
and the soul
can be at peace
can be at rest
and

allow explaination
exhibit control
and be contained

until next time.

It's time to BLOOM

Yesterday I was privileged enough to spend 4ish hours with 5 other women at a BLOOM event.

It was divine.

We disagreed but listened.
The conversation was deep.
We laughed and got teary.
It was about connection and togetherness.
Although we had never all been connected or together before.

And it was exactly what I've envisioned in my heart when I've seen BLOOM.

Women
Black, white, old or young,
Married or single
Trans or cis
Loud or soft spoken
Women

 
It's caused me to think about dreams and how easily they get sidetracked and dismissed. The other day I went to coffee with a friend that I rarely get to see but who I still consider a sister. We talked about how easily we've both set things aside or put them on the back burner....yet can stay on top of handling other people's stuff. And I thought about my book and about BLOOM. And how there's been a stirring (sometimes stronger than others) for years about these two things coming to life. And while the book is still on a back burner somewhere, BLOOM has begun.  And as I put more time and energy into what it really might look like to bring life out of mess in a more formal, consistent and committed way...I am excited to see all of the different facets it can possess. Small times together with coffee and treats, larger gatherings with speakers, summer events in a park, meeting tangible needs or offering financial help, cooking classes....the list could go on.  I truly believe that it will grow as it should and when it should.

But I do believe that it's time to be diligent and take the plunge. I'm tired of getting sidetracked. And I'm definitely tired of dismissing my dream.  I can't let fear of failure or other's opinions keep me from moving forward.  I can't let distraction hinder my focus.

What are the plans or dreams you've set aside?  Where are the places you are hiding...maybe out of fear or lack of focus?  How can we help each other take the next step? Why are you waiting?

My ultimate dream is a place. Likely a home. Where women can come. And bring life out of mess.

Because we all have mess.
And we all can BLOOM.



 

Stories from a Momma Bear #6

My sons now are men
They are finding their way
We've done our best to prepare them
But I still remember the day

That the FIRST call came (it would come again)
They were just wee little ones
But still with contempt she said
'Your sons keep on fighting
Get them to stop if  you would.'

So we sat down to talk
Make wise choices-walk away
But that's quite hard to do
Being called n***a every day.

Have you told a teacher?
have you let them know?
You might hope they hadn't
But we knew that they had
Even at 5 and 6 they'd been taught their worth
They'd already been called that word...
More than they should.

The problem becomes
Not just that it's said
but that when it's known
Nothing is done.

Thus began a regular fight
Here come the Pitchford's
I'm gonna need you to get right.
Not just the boys
but Daddy and Momma Bear too.
Just so you know we aren't taking your shit
Soooo

They aren't going to be suspended
And they aren't staying in
Unless you begin

To handle this hate
To deal with the truth
That using that word
Carries some weight
And if you say it enough
You might not be safe.

And the ugly truth
Is there's still much to teach
Because you can't stop that word
It just flows from some people

But as a parent you can demand
That they listen
They watch
And then they act
Because yes there's great teachers
But there are also
Those who deep down inside
Might be saying that word
They just know to hide
The hate that they feel
Or might not even  know
They carry it around
And sometimes let show.

So it's always our job
While they are still in our care
To teach and to guide them
But remember that
We can't always protect
Those wee little ones especially
As they begin to leave our sight
As they grow and become

Young women and men
Then adults on their own
And that word
Still there
Continues to flow

So while I'm teaching mine to
Walk away-take a breath
And to remember that they are often
being watched and often
Won't get the benefit of the doubt
I need you to teach yours
To keep that word out their mouth

Arizonas, Hoodies and Skittles.

'If I had a son...'

President Barack Obama took 2 minutes to answer a question about his thoughts on the Trayvon Martin case in March 2012.

And all the white people lost their shit.


Even white people you thought wouldn't. I've never unfriended and been unfriended on social media by so many people before or since.


Conservative media, news sources and all the 'jump on the bandwagon' folks tried to say:

that he bought Arizona and skittles because he was going to make 'lean'.
that he was a thug (aka n---a) because he posted a picture flipping the bird and wearing a grill.
that he was a delinquent because he had been suspended for having some marijuana.
that his hoodie was as much to blame as George Zimmerman's gun.
that there were no issues in Sanford.

It was not uncommon for me to have arguments that I had to step away from because of the justification for reasons he was killed:

about how it was dark and rainy and he had his hands in his pockets.
about how he looked older than 17.
about how he should have just stopped and spoke to George Zimmerman.
about how he didn't live there-he was only visiting.
about how it was raining.

For those that don't remember...or whose privilege allowed them to have their head in the sand...the national uproar came initially because of how long it took them to arrest George Zimmerman.

Trayvon was killed on February 26th, 2012.
The arrest did not come until April 11th, 2012.

I worked with pretty much all conservative white people at the time. I did not have the same point of view as many of my co-workers. And I remember as I would post articles or newsclips....as I would lament for Trayvon's family....as I would try to have conversations about my feelings...a very common response was that....

this wouldn't happen to your kids...
you have good kids....
there's obviously more to the story....
you weren't there....

But

It definitely could...
That doesn't matter...
There might not be...
I didn't need to be to believe....


And I grew tired. Tired of having the same old conversation.  Tired of being reminded of how extreme the gap was that existed. Tired of having to explain.

It was the start of my decision that I no longer cared to try and reach people with racist ideology by trying to 'meet them halfway' by trying to 'understand their point of view' by trying to explain for the 100th time why I felt the way I did and so I wasn't going to try to.  I'm not saying I won't speak up if I see and hear racist shit...I'm not saying I might not tell you about yourself....but you can't say something like 'White people are oppressed' and then have a conversation with me.

I don't know if this is right or wrong.
I just know it is what is for me.

Sitting down to dialogue with someone who is realizing that inequity is real or who has questions about my experience as a wife to a black man and mother to black sons in this day and age is one thing.  I hope that when I share my heart...it makes people stop and think.  I hope it leads to asking questions. I love having those conversations.

but I have no desire to debate that which is my experience...my husband's experience...my son's experience....with someone who

'has a black co worker'
'slept with a black guy once'
'has a black friend'
'read an article about racism'

or just

'wishes we wouldn't make it about color'
'doesn't see color'
'would rather focus on the good stuff''
'thinks I'm exaggerating'

I am a sociology major partly because I wanted to get out of school quickly and didn't want to wait for the classes needed to be a social work major.  But also?  Because I love people. I love humanity. I love what makes a community tick and what makes it break down.  I love discovering patterns of society, how social norms influence growth and how social factors affect us (like race, age, gender, etc.)  This has always driven me. And likely will continue to.

I remember that day. Hearing about and then reading about Trayvon Martin.  Seeing my own sons...who often wore hoodies....who drank Arizon's....who sometimes walked home.

And I wept.

Because I do have a son.
And he could be Trayvon.
And George Zimmerman's lurk everywhere.

I just don't understand.

I just don't understand.

Black people just living

but Becky's gotta call the cops

I mean how is it possible 

Some don't see that it should stop.

Mexicans are rapists

and illegal-build that wall

Yet other countries' entering doesn't seem

to bother 'merica at all

Our president is filthy

ugly and full of lies

Yet Jesus lovers quickly 

defend him and consider him wise.

Women who've been assaulted

Mistreated and abused

are still seen as asking for it

we are so backwards and confused.

People care who other's marry

whether others sit or stand to pee

They think it is their business

and they can tell others how to be

Families in need are judged

for what they need

But if someone decides to give

post that picture if you please.

  

Racism runs rampant

and ignorance, it's growing

People look at others with hate

They don't care if it's showing

I just don't understand.

And just when i'm about

to lose all faith 

in humanity

the beauty of people

filled with abandon and love

draws me in.

A conversation with friends

full of laughter and tears

A grandiose gesture

that covers a need

Questions then listening

to better comprehend

An honest desire to 

follow Jesus

An open and kind 

outstretched hand.

So even though i don't understand

and likely never will

I cling to every little bit

of HOPE that there is.

My dad.

So my dad.

He really might be one of the best humans ever.

When I was little my dad was like a super hero. He was strong and brave. He was fun and silly. He was tough and sensitive.  My dad made funny faces. He talked in different voices. He pretended to be different characters like Little Boy Jackson and the Hulk. I remember once he actually tore off one of his t-shirts for effect with my cousins. We watched scary movies together and man could he dance! (still can) He worked hard and my sister and I had him wrapped around our finger.  I could share story after story of him being there. Of him stepping up. Of him exuding love and laughter.  From his forgetfulness to his devotion....he does everything larger than life.

I didn't know the things I would find out later. That his life wasn't easy like he worked hard to make mine. That he enlisted so his brothers wouldn't have to and was sent to Vietnam to proudly fight in a war only to return to hate. That he made mistakes and got in trouble. That his heart was broken.  That he almost didn't make it.

Finding those things out as I got older and could understand more only made me love him more.  He fought back against the darkest demons that haunt someone who has seen what he's seen so that he could live a full and free life....so that he could love.

He is honor embodied. And I am so thankful he's my daddy.

To be.

It's so easy to look at someone else

And to think you know their story.

It's so easy to look at yourself

And pretend what is...is not.

It's like we learn at a young age

To act right

To look good

To do it all

To make it count

And I'm not even sure 

Those messages are fully harmful

But I know we must also

Remind each other 

to be mindful

That acting right can be wrong

When you are having to fake it

That looking good does not matter

If you aren't feeling good

You can't do it all without

Losing some along the way

And you can't make it count

when you can't make it.

But dear one

In the midst of 

claiming your truth

Of proclaiming it's okay

to not be okay,

Don't neglect

to care for yourself

to get your rest

take your medicine

or see your doctor. 

Please take the time

That you need.

To be.

Because we need you to be.

Love love.

What if we only loved?
What if we stepped up and
stood for the love that we
love to receive?
But often choose not to give?
And how do i love
those that don't love me?
That dismiss and seek
to destroy
me, my lot, my people?
Can I love
Love

without pretending
without malice
without descending
into a place
where
love is really
just hate dressed up
to look good
and sound nice

If we only loved
we might need to
set aside
the people and places
that
we can't waste energy on
for everyone and everything
is not mine
is not for
me, my lot, my people.
Can i love
Love

without deceiving
without contempt
without believing
it doesn't matter that
love is really
fake and forced
because we think we must
"be good"

I can love
what and who is in front
of me
and stand in the gap
when they don't have
their voice or
a place
to belong
when they don't know
their way or
a journey
to be on

I must love
so i don't
fall prey
to hate and bitterness
to the ugly
that exists all around
and seeps into
my heart and my mind
when i take my eyes
off of Love.
Love.

#letthemwalk

Today another blow came with regards to the graduation debacle with Waukesha School District. I found out that a student was sent an email by their teacher advising them that since some of their school fees were waived instead of 'paid', they were no longer eligible to purchase their iPAD from the school.

What.
The.
Hell?

How is that even a thing and why is it even a thing?  Also, when was this communicated to anyone?

I don't get a society that is okay with this.  I mean, I believe it. And I know that there are so many who think, here she goes again....blah blah blah....but I don't care.

I don't get it.

Please hear me. I know that the fees and debt exists. Getting Wisconsin to change how fees are assessed and why the fees are so high in some districts is another battle for another day. I understand that currently fees are high and they are the responsibility of the parents or guardians of graduating seniors.

Fine.

But how and why was that chosen to be used to deny students the privilege and honor of participating in their graduation ceremonies?  Of celebrating that day, despite their financial situation, with their peers and having the pride that comes from taking that tassle and crossing it over their cap?

Who.
The.
Hell?

Which school board members thought this was a good idea?  Who thought, 'I know how we can get those people to pay!!! Let's keep their kids not just from their diploma but also from their ceremony!'  Did someone actually think that suddenly a family struggling to pay their fees or catch up from fees that were behind===would say, 'Oh here's $500, I just didn't feel like paying it!'

No. If you don't have it, you don't have it. You can't get blood out of a turnip.  You not only have the stress of financial obligations you can't meet....now you have to explain to your child that they have to miss this celebration of their accomplishment!! Who of them sleeps at night?  They should all be ashamed.

Why.
The.
Hell?

So back to that email.  Why?  Why is that happening?  Those iPAD's are not the highest quality and some of the students actually have older models that aren't worth shit anyway. The student was given permission to purchase it for $25 at the end of the school year. Then, today, recieves an email that she no longer can because she had fees waived.  Why does a teacher know that anyway?  What happened to privacy?  Does staff need to know who has fees waived and who doesn't?

I'm disappointed.

I'm disappointed in the district, in the school board.

I'm disappointed at how many people left comments on different social media posts talking about families who might owe fees.....

Calling them leeches.
Calling them welfare queens.
Calling them low lifes.
Calling them illegals.
Calling them thugs.
Calling them lazy.

and some of those people claim to be Christians.

No.

The message of Jesus is love. And doing for the least of these. And helping the powerless. Giving voice to the voiceless. Standing up for those that are unseen. Reminding the pharisees the error of their ways.

The seniors in Waukesha being denied this privilege needs to matter to you. I'm not saying that you need to donate (but it'd be great if you want to) but you do need to understand. And make others aware. And think about how this impacts a young life for the years to come.

Owing fees does not mean you are poor and indignant.
and it is not a reflection of some character flaw.
Just as having wealth is not a reflection of character.

I'm going to a graduation on June 9th, thanks to numerous people who helped make it possible. And I'm not going to shut up about how we can get many many more the same opportunity if we just keep spreading the word and donating!!!

https://www.gofundme.com/let-them-walk


#letthemwalk

Filling my Head.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. And quite honestly stressing.  Very likely what led to my brief stay in the ER the other day. I am trying to stay calm and peaceful, I am. My brain flows between my family and their well being, a personal financial burden, financial burdens of Waukesha seniors, school shootings, racism, people's ignorance of their neighbors and lack of ability to see beyond themselves, loss.  Someone asked me recently how I became this way---someone who speaks up, pursues justice and is okay standing alone. I let them know that I have no clue. I've been that way for a long time.

It's much sometimes.

What's been monopolizing a lot of my mind and heart lately is the new stance Waukesha South School District is planning to enforce this year. If a senior student owes any fees to the district, they will not be allowed to participate in their graduation ceremony.  I guess one of the three high schools has already been doing this, but now all three will be doing so. Since a news interview a mom and I did for TV and a local grass roots newspaper ran an article, the district is doing a little dance through their PR person by saying 'oh, no, no...nobody has ever not crossed the stage'....but the bottom line is that I am aware of ACTUAL families, living and breathing humans who have not been told this isn't so.  They've been told, and in written form in March 2018, that if they owe fees their senior will not cross the stage.

I don't understand it.
I'm not surprised by it. But I don't understand it.
And I understand even less, how so many folks do not think that this is an issue.
In fact, there's some folks that say this is a good lesson for the student to have to face the real world.
What the actual fuck.

I don't have the positivity to say that at some point we lost our way.  I'm not convinced we ever had it.

This country and even this local community pretends to be for the people. Pretends like a 6 year old playing make believe. It's so real to them that at some point others might even begin to buy in.

I don't want to ramble anymore than I already have while try to spell out a cohesive argument with eloquent words...so I'm just going to assemble my thoughts in a list. Maybe you already agree with the idea that high school seniors should be allowed to participate in their graduation ceremonies regardless if their families are unable to pay all of their fees prior to the ceremony.  Maybe you can't understand why so many of us would pool our resources together so that we can make a way for these same students to cross the stage.  Either way, I hope this list might make you stop and think.


1. The first FREE tax payer public school began in 1639. By 1870, all northern states had tax funded public elementary schools. Read up on what happened to public schools during the depression. No Child Left (NCLB) was signed into law in 2002 but by 2012 more than half of the states were granted waivers because they were unable to successfully meet the requirements of NCLB as it was. Since then, from what I've read and experienced and seen...things have been a mess.  This does not fall fully on the schools of course. Budget cuts and states refusal to value education tie the hands of the districts. Tax payers want lower taxes. And so that is often at the expense of the school. Ask any out of work teacher or current teacher who is using their own money to supply their classroom.  How great is the divide in this country that there are some states that public education is free and other's where the fees are incredibly high.

2. We've made human issues into partisan issues. I understand that on a 'ideology level' there are partisan differences in how we might tackle education and the great divide that currently exists in our country. But. If we all stop for a moment and just think. With both our heart and head....how could anyone say that they didn't want a child to receive a quality education?  How could anyone say that they didn't want their neighbor to achieve and grow and have?  How could anyone say that a child should be financially responsible for their own primary and secondary education? (that's roughly K5-8th grade for those that aren't aware)  I've read comments that the seniors at Waukesha high schools will learn a good lesson if they have to pay for their school. I can agree with that for college. I don't care how many ways you try to spin it---it is unacceptable in this country with the resources and money we have---to suggest that a 18 year old whose family might have financial struggles, should then become responsible for debt that occurred when they were a child.

3. This is not a race issue. This is an economic issue. Because there are struggling folks of all colors.  When the news station or a news paper questions might this be an issue of discrimination the answer is yes. But not racial discrimination. I saw a comment on a social media site telling people to stop making it a race issue. Um. Nobody was. There is a lot of ways to discriminate.  So that tells me that person didn't read the article and is assuming what it's about or that tells me that person might think the only folks that financially struggle are non white. So if we are saying it's discrimination we must be saying it's racially discriminatory. No.

4. There are all kinds of reasons that families might struggle to pay school fees. This does not make them freeloaders or 'bad' people. Having financial fluidity and freedom is not the only marker of character. If you have never struggled--then you might not be able to understand how it might happen that a student's fees might accumulate.  But I can tell you first hand that they can. And sometimes you are in the position to make the payments so that you catch up. And sometimes you can't. It's easy to toss out judgement and interrogation. It's harder to give what you might have to give when you want to keep it for yourself. It's harder to see need and want to do something about it. It's harder to decide that even if it's not your responsibility--you are going to step in and step up and not just help, but handle.  It is truly carrying someone else's burden.  So all ya'll Jesus lovers should REALLY be all over that.

Somehow I feel better spelling it all out, clearing it out of my heart and head. Hopefully this will help me sleep a little better.

Tomorrow is a new day.

My Momma

I know this day is hard for so many

My own momma included

Because I know she misses her own momma so.

But I wanted to make sure that 

I took some time today

to let her know

What she means to me

Why we all love her so

She was always there

When we needed her

I can't remember a time

That she wasn't.

Even in disappointment

In frustration

She stood by and loved

She showed up and stayed. 

From her I learned how to 

Be prepared and think of the details

How to make others comfortable

And stick to a plan

How to make your husband's lunch

How to make your children laugh

How to smile when you need to

And remember there's good after bad

I learned to work hard

Not to take things for granted

To appreciate and step up

And not to wait to be asked

To make each day count

To take a deep breath

That sometimes we roll with the punches

And have to learn how to embrace.

As a grandma she's amazing

and hilarious

Man she loves our kids

She reminds me of her mom

Telling stories more than once

Learning all the new lingo

but also teaching us all her own.

Thank you Linda for being a mom

I am blessed to celebrate today

You are special and loved.

One of kind

And I'll always be grateful 

That you are mine.

Stories from a Momma Bear (and wife) #5

Today on our way back from Iowa...we stopped to get gas at a nowhere little gas station in a nowhere little town. We've stopped there once before so it's a little familiar to us. But I know that we aren't familiar to them.

We pulled up to the gas pump and my son hopped out to go in and use the restroom and look for a snack. My husband got out to start pumping the gas. I'm quickly throwing on my shoes and jumping out of the car. Looking to my son heading in the gas station. Looking at my husband running the credit card in the pump. And I look around the parking lot taking surveillance of the patrons around us. Door. Son. Gas Pump. Husband. 

I feel a sense of panic. And I feel frozen. And I stood between the car and the store---making odd small talk with my husband--with one eye on my son now walking into the gas station---until he is pumping the gas and there is no more odd small talk to make and I head into the gas station. And I have somewhat bated breath until we are all in the store together figuring out what snacks we want and then heading to the car together. 

The day before?  My husband and I stopped for gas heading to Missouri...same kinda gas station...same kinda town. And we got out of our car at the same time that a man got out of his car on the other side of the pump. I see him glance. Once. Twice. And I hover. I hover around the car until my husband starts to pump the gas and he and the man are making a little small talk. Then I breathe and I enter the gas station. 

I let my husband and son know that how I hate being at gas stations and they separate. Because I want to stay at the pump with my husband. And I want to go in the gas station with my son. I want to see and hear if anything crazy pops off. I want to intervene if someone says something horrible. I want to be near if any officers show up. I want to keep them safe. 

I know that none of us can guarantee another person's safety...so I'm asking you to refrain from sharing the stranger danger kind of 'I know just how you feel' stories. 

I could list names upon names upon names and show videos upon videos that would curl your stomach and make your heart ache....of men, women and children being murdered by the police, by everyday citizens....and there would be so very, very few who paid any kind of legal consequence because of their actions. And there would be person after person, comment after comment of the many many justifying reasons and excuses that they deserved to die or they somehow brought it on upon themselves.

I could.

But I'm too tired.

Because you see...I have a husband and sons to keep alive.

And the reality is that I can't. 

And the reality is also that some days....some days that weighs so heavy in the deepest part of my heart that I just don't have the desire to verbally spar with others or help you understand.  I don't have the patience to reassure you that yes, I know there are good officers and I know there are nice white people and yes, my mom  is white and no, I haven't forgotten that means I'm white too. I don't have the heart to 'stand strong' and face adversity with 'peace and a desire for harmony' although I do understand your need to remind me of those things. I don't have the stomach to listen to one more MLK quote or the many suggestions of very nice and sweet pacifist ways to make a point without belittling others. I don't have energy to let you know what you can do to step up--figure it the fuck out yourself. 

Because you see....I have a husband and sons to keep alive.

And the reality is that I can't.  

Because if they

walk down the street,

play at a playground,

buy a hot CD,

wear a hoodie,

listen to their music too loud,

have a tail light out,

stop for directions,

seek help after a car accident,

enter our home,

they could be shot.

They could die.

And if that bullet comes?  There is absolutely I can do to stop it.  But I will 100% die trying.

Love, what if?

Love.
What if love isn't pretty
it isn't roses

What if love isn't sweet

it isn't soft

and it isn't meant
to be about
what we think or
what we wish
and what we pray for

It's messy
and ugly
and wandering
and lost.
It's rainy
and windy
and covering
the ground.
It's up
and it's down
and it
rarely is still.
It's more than my imagination
can begin to dream
It's more than my heart
can bear to feel

The man on the cross...
He loved
and we claim to be about
the love that he was
but
we aren't.
we judge and we fret
and we look away
we run when it's hard
and we hide our own pain

we ignore more than we listen
we avoid more than we face
I wonder if pretty and sweet
would make us feel
more willing and able
to be about the love
that he so freely gave

what if we set down
our own agenda
and instead looked
out
around
in
and embraced all the
good things
there are in our sight.

people
with stories
not like our own
and places
that seem strange
and far from home
but those
people and places
are where we must start
extending ourselves
as we begin to love.

when your soul begins to feel
and your tears are mixed
with heartache and joy
you are loving

and when you feel the warmth

of tenderness

even through your pain

you are being loved

and it may not be
what you thought
because you aren't in control
and you don't get to choose

It's messy

and ugly

but also lovely and kind.

It's rainy

and windy

but will also blow your mind.

Love.

Stories from a Momma Bear #4

Some days are harder than others
when you see that look in other's eyes
That look that is hard to explain
to someone
who might not know
who doesn't see
what you see
but you know when you know.

So this basketball tourney
Had me feeling that way
With teams from the city
as well as around the way

The white people stare
just a little bit longer
Wrinkle their noses
And give
that look.

But surrounded by folks who don't believe
the look is real
I mean get out of your feelings
don't you know that color doesn't
matter
and people are just people
and if you always make it
about race
it's you.
not them.

So my son might seem safe
in a school where he's one of a few
black kids on the team
with all the white parents who love
them so.
and don't know the look.

But as we approach the next court
 i see in the ref
that look.
up and down.
unsettled.
toward my son
who is loud and funny
full of spirit and fire
he backs down for noone
and he likes that just fine.

and i know that he knows
the look oh so well
he's in 8th grade and wise
he doesn't pretend.

The game begins.
every foul is his.
and i see this ref muttering
narrowing his eyes
and his gaze
does not deviate
as my son begins to dominate
and his whistle can't
blow fast enough

My son does his thing
but i am watching the ref
watch my son
and i am waiting.
Because now every foul
comes with a lecture
My son turns it up
Because that is his nature
He's tossing up 3's
since he's making a few
And I hear the rumbles
of parents beginning to wonder
why does that ref
seem to just not like my son.

A dad gets upset that he keeps
talking to my son
And he's wondering out loud
what it's all about
I try to explain
What I think it's is
but of course
that's too much,
of course that's not it.
but it's escalating
and my son is getting mad
i know his body language
i know when it's bad

Then the whistle blows and
he runs to my son
he's muttering something and
then starts to run
to the scorekeepers table
and my son is pissed
as he runs to the bench

I start to get up
they bought to learn today
but a dad steps in and tells me to stay
(believe that's another story for another day)
But i'm much too pissed so i let him go
and 'save the day'

My son looks at me
and i know.
i don't need that dad
having his 'man to man'
with the referee
to come back and tell me
what he 'discovered' just now
cuz my sons know the look
and they know that i know

So it seems
that all through the game
when my son gets a 3
he put up his hands
maybe you've seen it
in the NBA?
index finger to thumb
and a bump to the chest?

So the referee tells my son
'Hey, no gang signs in here.'
And my son told him that
he didn't know what he was talkin 'bout.

This went on a few more times until the last straw
When he kicked my son out of the game
for refusing to stop
putting up the gang signs
that were not.

So i ask this dad
what did he say
and he said that he told the ref
Oh know, i know that kid
and he's not  that way
but he understands his perspective
 and can appreciate.

My eyes met my sons.
and i looked to the dad,
and all the other folks up in the stands.
'Yea that doesn't cut it.
Not what I'm about.
Ya'll can think what you want
I already know what it's about.

So I find who's in charge
and give them the info
Then i get back in the gym.
And confront the ref
with many of the parents
giving disapproving looks
why am i so so much
why can't i leave well enough alone
I mean really,
can't we all just get along.

No we can't.

because my son knows that look
and he knows that i know
and it's my job to step up
so that he can always believe
that we don't let the look slide
we face every stage
And even when alone
we are alone but brave.

I don't know if that day
more people could see
that the look is real
and maybe believe.
I no longer worry
about what you believe
about the look
or me
doing the most


It might not be the way for most
Some might prefer more tact and hope
that i would smile and take it in
and not assume the look is real.

I love all my kids
and i can tell you this
i best not ever see
that look on your face
cuz you won't be pleased.

Misconceptions

I was talking with my coworkers the other day about our weary. We were discussing some of the families we work with; brainstorming ways to engage parents, encouraging each other to have that hard conversation and mostly just being there to listen to each other.

It is a difficult job. And with all the experience and knowledge I bring from 20+ years in a variety of social service jobs, it might be the most intimate and difficult. We are with families---in the midst of crisis--entering their lives to help them figure out how to get it back on track---without taking control or telling them this is the RIGHT way to do it. 

Because, in reality, the program believes, and quite honestly I do personally believe, that there is no RIGHT way.

Most jobs that I've worked---from a residential home for developmentally delayed adults in the early 90s to W2 and foodshare in the late 90s to independent living for aging out foster youth in the early 2000s to a women and family short term shelter in the 2010s---all have led me to dispel misconceptions of others. This job is no different.

Any of the families that I work with could be your family. Could be my family. There is no special recipe of disaster that crisis or breakdown from mental health issues or trauma.

They are not with us because they are criminals.

They are not with us because they are not trying.

They are not with us because they are abusers.

They are not with us because they are hateful.

They are not with us because they are addicts.

They are not with us because they are unworthy.

Their common denominator is that there is a mental health or behavioral health diagnosis and as a cause it is affecting an area of the youth's life. Education, socialization, family life, their health and well-being.  

Your family. My family.

It's so easy to judge.

Why don't they get a job.

Why don't they finish school.

Why don't they set them straight.

Why don't they

Why don't they

Why don't they.....

They are we.

Why don't we help.

Why don't we see.

Why don't we love.

Believe me, there are days when I can see the breakdown of a family blow up right before my eyes. 

A mom losing her cool and cussing out her daughter and all of us before walking out of a meeting because the truth is too hard to face.

A son showing out in court because he has to go to detention again for his anger, but anger is all he knows.

A dad who hasn't been involved-for a dozen different reasons-wanting to reconnect but nobody trusts that he means it this time.

A little girl getting suspended again for bullying, yet to her it's her only way to interact because the abuse she experienced has her so numb.

I just keep reminding myself....if I become weary from engaging with this familes life....how weary they must be from living it.  And many of the things they are experiencing, I've experienced. As a teen not being understood. As a young mom feeling lost. As a parent wondering if you've done all you can. Letting anger get the best of me. Hanging onto hurts. Pretending.

The truth is that

Sometimes situations suck.

Sometimes we are pissed.

Sometimes it is too much.

Sometimes it is our fault.

And while there is no RIGHT way to do it...there are right things we can practice doing.

Forgive.

Set boundaries.

Love.

Because another misconception is that the families I work with are a lost cause. That they will always be fractured and overwhelmed. That the mental health, behavioral concerns and trauma will forever permeate their ability to function in healthy and positive ways.

But.

Through forgiveness they, like all of us, can be released from the ugly that comes from holding on. From reliving and reminding. From being free.

Through boundaries they, like all of us, can have control over what they allow in their lives. We are only bound by what we allow. We make those choices.

Through love they, like all of us, can find restoration, acceptance, self worth. We can see glimpses of goodness, light and hope.

Who do you need to forgive today?

Where do you need to set boundaries?

How can you be about love?

Because, dear one, you are they.

That's what I got today.

Stories from Momma Bear #3

I remember the night
He came right back home 
Tears were in his eyes
It never gets easier
It's never okay
There's a story there
that you don't want to hear

Driving in our neighborhood
Going to pick up a friend
seeing lights behind him then
knowing what's to come

Remember what we taught you son
follow it carefully please
Make sure that you come home to us
this will always be my plea

Wallet out-because Philandro
Jordan died so music down
No quick moves because Oscar
We memorize these stories yes
They are you and you are them
Tamir looked like a man
And you are much larger than him

The flashlight out, he's moving slow
checking the car and him up and down
'What you up to tonight son?'
Just heading to see my friend

'Nothing in the back?'
'No.'
As he slowly scans the car
'Nothing on you son?'
'No.'
'Okay-just wait right here.'

Slowly take deep breaths
Hands stay still
You have no clue about this man
If he's the type that might kill
a kid who's just driving in town
who will cause him to say
'Oh-I feared for my life.'

He returns to the window
with all of the things
'I'm letting you go today'
Letting him go?
Oh my Jesus that pisses me off
What happened 
that you were going to hold?

Slowly take your items back
Make no eye contact please
'This is your parent's car?'
'Yes sir it is.'

Just as you think 
your interaction is done
He's got one last comment
Well, because

'Just a word-the car is loud,
And we don't like that around here.'
Then a slow saunter back
to his car and he's gone
And my son is
Left sitting there.
Til he comes back home
To process it all
And feel all the feels
Because the truth is
That 'around here'
Is 3 blocks from his home.



That's what I got today.

Stories from a Momma Bear #2

Today was a most
interesting day
Tired of the
passive aggressive
way

Folks wanna pretend
or continue to hide
the truth of the ugly
they're keeping inside

i can tell story after story
but people will choose
to believe what they want
to refuse to accept
the truth they don't know
but we keep tryin to tell
damn it's getting old

cuz i remember
the day
my son came home to ask
do i have an extra muscle
is that what makes me fast?

or came running home
i can't play outside
the neighbor said n****
with the hard ER

or a phone call came
your son was in a fight
and he was to blame
but then i find out
that "that word"
was tossed about
and he's just supposed to take it?
naw--knock him the hell out

turn the other cheek
place nice would you please
understand and have patience
i mean, where's your humanity
that is all well and fine
but i need you to see
that some days i can't
and some days i won't
and some days
are days
when i'm just holding on
trying not to scream
and fully explode




That's what i got today.

Stories from a Momma Bear #1

Freshman year
in a school so unknowing
It's not right he said
She's treats us different
This spanish class
of 'misfit' kids
with two 'sweet' girls
just stuck in the middle

he was right i knew
i'd seen it before
same teacher
different class
and suddenly they begin to show
their true self
their hidden ugly
they don't think is known
really don't care is shown

but our kids aren't quiet
and they will always stand
unless it's time to kneel
they will call you out
they will show you how
you are letting your hatred show

phone calls and chaos
the class escalated
phone call from me
cuz she needed to know
that i'm not quiet
and i'll always stand
unless it's time to kneel
i will call you out
i will show you how
you are letting your hatred show

no, no, ma'am
you certainly aren't right
i love all kids
i mean
i've worked in the city
i've worked in bad neighborhoods
WTF!
we're in waukesha fool
nobody mentioned that shit
'cept my son is black
and you changed that up quick

i have black friends
i like black people
lady shut up
cuz you're making me sick

then the final straw
i get a call
my son in the hall
being taken to a room
by the school officer
stay on the phone
you're dad's heading there

the story it seems
class was OC
students were arguing
about social media
in class
but the 'sweet' girls
'looked scared'
teacher's words not mine
so she had to call the cop
and when my son stood up
tall and fit
the officer later says
'he looked very aggressive'
so i had to take him out

hell no
wrong one
we don't play that
you see
so a huge meeting is held
to figure out
why he's so upset
what it's all about

my son so eloquent
calmly states
i've been in two classes
and it's not the same
we aren't trusted
the face looks disgusted
she doesn't like us
she doesn't know us

he's lying
misguided
it rolls off her tongue
so easy you wonder
when she's said it before
everyone's looking
our blood pressure's
rising
but needed not worry

cuz the next thing she says
is those Pitchford's have it wrong
i know what i'm doing
i've worked with all kinds
i know how to teach
poor bl...(pause)
poor (pause)
(look around the room)
at the shocked faces
before she can finish

my husband who isn't quiet
and will always stand
unless it's time to kneel
he will call you out
and will show you how
you are letting your hatred show

lady, do i look poor
and what's that got to do
with you treating the class
different except it obviously does

discussion ensues
let us figure this out
hell no
WE want him out
of her racist ass class
want her nowhere near him
and ya'll can figure out the rest

sometimes you can't change the world at once
but you let one teacher know
and one admin know
that
their true self
their hidden ugly
that they don't think is known
or really don't care is shown

has been seen
and we know
and you better get right

so when anger explodes
and frustration is high
but it's not your fight
and you don't understand the plight
just know others know
what they are talking about
and if  you aren't joining in
then know that you're out.


That's what i got today.

today

My heart is a big ol jumbled mess today
full of anger and pain
yet hope and joy...

because the world got a little
bit crazier today
without delay and

one bit of news sends my mind spinning
spinning
spinning

and  starts my heart breaking

and my soul just might stop

breathing.

Death and hate
and fear monopolize
people's energy

where is humanity

as our children lie in the streets
and more black men die
as guns are untouchable
and he continues to lie

each lie
defies
reason
it's so hard
believing

that some people still believe their right to having a gun
is more important
than the blood laying there

i can't be curious because
i have nothing to be curious of.
if the truth of my humanity...of my family has to be explained to you
in a way to convince of our worth
i'm not wondering
how you got that way

each tear
brings broken
dreams of
moving forward
we're going
nowhere


and one bit of news sends my mind spinning
and starts my heart breaking

but i must not let my soul stop

breathing.


That's what I  got today.

It's been a day....

Today is one of those days where I was paralyzed by feeling overwhelmed at all that needs to be done. Not personally---although that definitely weighs on me from time to time---but around me, all around me.

I know so many say start right here. Just start with the person in front of you.

But when you live and work such that there are many in front of you...then that isn't such an easy statement.

At my job I have 13 families that I have been entrusted with....and what I need everyone to understand is that they are any family.  Me, you, us. There is no them.

Through BLOOM I seek to offer gatherings, afternoons, moments of reprieve for women from all walks of life to learn together to 'bring life out of mess'. We all have mess of some kind.

My kids and their ability to love others have led me to have many extra kids and I take that seriously...being available to them.

So many. So much.

Sometimes I want to look around and say....what are you doing?  where are you?  how are you stepping up? And I know that's not fair. Because, like me, others get tired. Or they might be in their wilderness season or their resting season. Also, because I know that on any given day...there are many who step up and say, let me know how to help--how to step in.  And I am so grateful for the generosity of others. For the willingness to give of their time and their resources.

But yet, I still feel this need to challenge.
Challenge those with the thinking of self preservation and accomplishment.
Challenge those who are adamant on focusing inward...on their own achievements. 
Challenge myself.

Never think there isn't a place to get started. Never think there isn't a place that you can be involved.

There is. And the world around you....it needs you to open your eyes and more importantly, your heart....and go.

That's what I got today.

Picture this....

Many of you know that I am a care coordinator for a social service agency in Milwaukee. I love working in the city and being in the trenches.  Aside of 6 years at Elmbrook....I have worked in the city since 1995.  I've pretty much experienced it all.  From cockroaches on the wall that I was informed were pets....to my car being stolen....to finding naked girls hiding in a bathroom....to putting a youth out of my car.  This current position is draining and life giving at the same time. It is too much work for one person but we roll up our sleeves and get the work done because the families are there.  My role is helping families with youth who have a mental health diagnosis that is hindering them in some area of their life. Often revolving around school and home life.  As the young people I work with near the teen years, it can often also lead to delinquency, truancy, run away behavior.  The parents play a big role...often times more than they are willing to admit or allow themselves to see.  Our goal is to put together a team of providers to help meet the youth's needs.

I want to share an experience I had today with you.  All in a day's work.

Picture, if you would, this situation in your mind.

Today I saw a young lady express herself clearly in an appointment. Share what she was thinking. Talk about some of the things frustrating her. She is living in a group home and there are definitely strained family dynamics. She is beautiful. Big smile, hair always up, often shuffling along in slipper/shoes and almost always on her phone.

At the end of the appointment, as we were preparing to walk out, her mom showed up. Late. And neither of us had known she was coming.  The appointment was over.

Despite my best efforts their conversation and verbal aggression escalated as we walked to the cars. Daughter wanted mom to know she's maturing and she's not who she was. Mom wants to know why she isn't going to school and sits on social media all day. There was back and forth about other things as well. The discussion grew heated to the point of each of them calling the other all kinds of bitches and retard and stupid ass.  As each stepped to the other...I reminded them of all the coping strategies they could use...actually wondering if I was gonna have to call the mobile crisis team or dust off my boxing gloves to bring about calm.  Mom interrupted me to say that her daughter had started it.  I encouraged her to take a moment and compose herself and walk away.

As she walked away, she gave her daughter a smug smile and said, 'Oh yea-so mature. That's great. Be mature. Keep makin all those smart choices you're makin. Right. Okayyyyyy.'

Grateful I was able to have a good conversation with the young lady as I drove her back to the group home. She is a gem. Bright, funny.... full of attitude and pain.  So much creativity. So much heart.  Lots of hurt there.  Little hope. And I get to try and do my little piece to switch that reality so that someday there might be little hurt there and lots of hope.

Some days I am feel more equipped than others. That's part of working with people.  I choose to and know I am meant to do that.  It's a combination of social worker, therapist, case manager, big sister, friend, confidant, teacher.  It's part of the fabric of who I am.



Also part of the fabric of who I am....challenges you to answer the following honestly.  If you truly pictured this situation in your head (and if not feel free to go back now and read it again)



This daughter.


This mother.



In your mind.....




What race/ethnicity did you see them as?

Because they are white.


That's what I got today.

How come?

Last night we took two of our sons out to eat and 7 of their friends as well.  As we entered the Chinese Buffet and they each walked past the counter to find a table, put their coats up and grab their food....you could see eyes follow us. Some with a small smile, some with a scowl, some looking nervous, and the woman behind the counter staring very....intensely. I'm not sure what these folks all saw....

Me?

I saw respectful, goofy, dedicated, college athletes....all from different backgrounds....all working on making their dreams reality....all trying to find ways to buy groceries and toiletries and pay their bills. They talked about parties and school work and practice. They live on Snapchat and 4 hours of sleep and laughter and stress. And as we separated after the meal and each young person came and thanked us---hugs for me, handshakes for Marlon---and we got in the car to head to our hotel---I couldn't stop smiling.  I'm better for having experienced that evening.

But part of me gets angry too....

Because I know that there are those that would 'label' this group of young black people as "some of the good ones" and view young black people who maybe aren't in college--maybe not making the best choices right now--as "bad" "thugs" or "ghetto".  You know, all the politically correct ways to say N***A without actually saying it.  You know, keep that shit private in your own home where you can toss N***A out with a braveness you can't muster in public.

And that pisses me off.  Seriously, like put down my Jesus, knock someone out pissed off.

You might have thought you were about to read one kind of blog. Get ready to read another. Because this has been brewing and if you aren't ready to read/see/hear the truth then I suggest you stop reading. I can only share the truth as what I've experienced and observed, so there's no point in telling me this isn't true or doesn't happen. Perhaps your nice little life allows you to ignore or not see this truth. Perhaps you choose to keep your eyes closed and pretend that you know not of what I speak. But also, perhaps....if you are willing and brave....after reading this....you will allow yourself to see these situations too.  And if you willing and brave.....after reading this....you will allow yourself to say something the next time you do.

1. How come a white young adult can be living at home, running the streets, occasionally getting high, not keep a job, have sex with whoever and they are 'finding themselves' or they are 'just young'.  But a young black person does the same and they are going nowhere, have nothing going for them, aren't going to amount to anything??

2. How come a little person of color can have trouble at school sitting still or focusing, can say things they shouldn't and is almost always either coddled by a teacher because they must have a horrible home life with no daddy and they must be saved OR they are labeled a 'bad' kid and parents are told to put them on medicine,called to pick them up from school or treated with disdain by the teacher?

3. How come the young black person who is accepted to college is still not given credit...but instead there're whispers of affirmative action and of course black kids get all the scholarships and money in the world you know? Hey ignorant person it doesn't work that way. (and if you believe that without doing any research but simply because your non black butt couldn't get in college-then you are ignorant to the process of applying to college so I'm not name calling) Why can't they have worked hard to get there and are paying for college with loans and will be in debt for decades like the rest of young 'merica?

4. How come there are not the same punishments for same behavior?  In school, in sports, in life. You can almost feel the racial bias exuding from certain teachers, coaches, staff.  But it's the gap in arrests and punishment for marajuana possession and use that makes me seethe. The rate of marajuana use is pretty evenly matched between black and whites. This is able to be tracked by the census so I'm not making stuff up. However, the arrest rates are incredibly different. In some states black are over 8 times more likely to be arrested for marajuana possession!?!

5. How come my sons....who by all accounts are mostly seen by people who know them as respectful, thoughtful, successful young people...are still seen as dangerous, up to no good, questionable by many in society. By some store clerks, security, average citizen, law enforcement?  How come their size, their hoodie, their backpack, their color.....indicates that they must have an eye kept on them? That they might do something shady?

6. How come a white person doesn't go to college, has kids young, finds a decent job and struggles to make ends meet, receives foodshare and medical assistance and they are doing their best.....making the most of their situation and providing for their family?  How come a black person doesn't go to college, has kids young, finds a decent job and struggles to make ends meet, receives foodshare and medical assistance and they are living off of the system, draining our taxes and welfare queens? (Which coincidentally REALLY pisses me off because the ignorance of thinking welfare and food stamps still exist--just makes me want to explode!)

How?  How does this happen?

It happens because of racism. It happens not because 'I make everything about race' but because our country was founded on systemic racial divides that continue to this day. It happens because we raped and murdered and removed the occupants on this land because we wanted it and because we could. It happens because we built this country to what it is on the backs of those we could control and abuse and exploit. It happens because the constitution everyone is so proud of wasn't written for everyone and still to this day doesn't apply to everyone.

Racism isn't racial prejudice.

Racial prejudice is any race having preconceived notions about any other race and judging them for it. Jewish people are cheap, Asian people are cold, Mexican people are lazy, Black people are criminals or athletes, White people are rich.

Racism...and don't look to the white privilege Webster's definition of racism to fully explain racism.... is entire social systems in our country being built on racist ideology and constructed to provide and esteem white america and withhold abundance from people of color.  The labor market, owning land, the education system, the criminal justice system....all reflect biased and inequity. This isn't up for debate. The information and proof is there if you desire to see it to believe it.

Can a young person of color find success and live a wonderfully sweet and stable life?

Of course.

But believe me, it is in spite of what this society expects of them and readily and accessibly offers them.

And that. Is the injustice.



That's what I got today.