Tackling Tomfoolery: Wed Dread

Tackling Tomfoolery: Wed Dread

Wed Dread

http://www.sacbee.com/2010/11/06/3164774/blacks-struggle-with-72-percent.html?storylink=pluck_commented

I read the attached article today and was equal parts irritated and disappointed. Though I am the first to admit I absolutely love and completely believe in the institution of marriage and the great importance of a child growing up in a home with married parents, I have to say the theories of some of those listed in this article completely missed the mark for me.

I saw a number of misconceptions and thought patterns on both ends of the argument that lead to generalizations and it concerns me to see these things perpetuated. Encouraging marriage is one thing but promoting it without considering all the information can prove detrimental to those involved. I noticed about six points of contention:

1. Men are irrelevant. - When interviewing 30 year old fast food manager and mother of three with one on the way, Sherhonda Mouton, she expressed how the father of her first child shot her and her baby, the father of children two and three is not an active participant, and that the father of baby number four is "...around. He helps with the kids". She further expressed that marriage is another obligation she doesn't need. I found all of this disturbing. Mouton, like many single women, feel that because they are somehow managing to "get by" with their children it is proof that fathers are an unnecessary evil. How wrong that is. Just as two are required to create a child, two are needed to pour into that child everything they possibly can. Children may appear well rounded, grounded, and potentially successful but that doesn't mean there is no void in that child's life because of the lack of a father. Not only do fathers serve a huge purpose in the lives of their children, they set an example to young boys about how they should be as men, they show their daughters what to expect from a man, and as husbands, they serve as an example to their children of how a husband should function within a marriage. A man's role in the lives of his children is not to be negated and rendered irrelevant. Too many women make that mistake and never consider the ramifications for their children.
2. Women think babies love them. - In this article and many other documentaries, news reports, and personal conversations I've had with mothers, women are of the mind that having a baby will provide them with someone to love them. I can't stress enough how untrue this is. I've never met a baby who loved anyone or one who was concerned about the happiness and well being of anyone other than his or her self. It's true that babies are sweet, cute, and soft but it's also true that they are selfish and demanding. Their sole concern is getting what they need and want. Love is a learned behavior and it comes much later. Lack of love in one's life cannot be cured by having a baby. Babies only serve to exacerbate one's insecurity so loving oneself first is key.
3. Folks think marriage will fix everything. - As I mentioned before, I am a huge proponent of marriage. I believe it to be the ultimate partnership. However, I don't believe in sugar coating it. Marriage is difficult, tedious, back breaking work. It is physically, psychologically, and emotionally taxing and that is in the "good" marriages. That said, marriage has not EVER repaired an already unstable relationship. Marrying someone who is abusive, disrespectful, irresponsible, involved in criminal activities, or emotionally indifferent will not help the children involved in any way. Taking a less than ideal situation and making it even more volatile for the sake of appearances can provide a far worse fate to a child than raising him or her alone. That said, women need to think more clearly when choosing a mate. If he is terrible in the beginning, he'll be terrible in the end. Having a baby fixes nothing.
4. Society places the onus solely on the mother. - In all my experiences reading or listening to people speak, I've never heard a man referred to as an unwed father. However, I constantly hear statistical data and disparaging remarks about unwed mothers. It stands to reason that if the woman isn't married to the man, he's just as unwed as she is. It is unrealistic and unfair to place the "blame" with the woman only. Though the woman is the one who gives birth, the man is just as responsible for the life of that baby. So far I have heard of no movement to encourage men to marry the women they impregnate. Where can I find information on that?
5. The relevance of marriage is not properly explained. - In this particular article it appears as though women were told to get married and that it would be good for their children but there was no discussion on the real relevance of marriage. Marrying only because one is with child almost always proves disastrous. Staying in a bad situation "for the kids" has done little more than destroy the lives of many parents and the very children they were trying to save. Marriage shouldn't be about children. It should be about a commitment to a life partnership between two people based on love, truthfulness, mutual respect, common interest, and friendship, among other things. Simply implying folks should marry because there is a baby on the way is hogwash and changes the intention of marriage into a business transaction instead of an emotional commitment. If more people understood what marriage is intended to be, they'd a) take it more seriously b) get married only when sure of the promise they'd be making and c) stay together longer because they'd be involved for the right reasons. Until that happens, simply admonishing folks to marry because of a baby on the way will only lead to more divorce and more broken hearts and homes.

I saw other things in the article that disturbed me like the implication that marrying a white man instead will fix everything but I only see those as subtle implications and not as the main problem. Marriage is a wonderful undertaking and growing up in a home with happily married parents certainly works to the benefit of children. They seem more well adjusted, happier, more confident, and better prepared for adulthood. That said, marriage alone is not what helps a child become a productive member of society. Many single parents have raised some wonderful and successful children who didn't repeat the cycle. That said, there has to be a realistic approach to the lesson. Touting the virtues of marriage is wonderful but only under the right conditions. In the meantime, I'd like to see more emphasis placed on prevention instead of band aid remedies.

Lame Blame

The past few weeks of You Tube videos shared on Facebook and subsequent posts and discussions about "why black women can't find a good black man" have exhausted me. If it isn't Facebook, it's a talk show or special news report showing countless pathetic professional black women who are perpetually single and consequently pitiful. I am so disappointed in the way black men and women have begun to see one another and wish we would work to find a common ground instead of continuing to tear each other apart.

These days I am quite weary of all the black man/black woman bashing. All the men talk crazy about how wack black women are and all the women talk about how wack the men are and I just don't have the ability to deal with the nonsense of it all. All black women are accused of ignoring decent black men in exchange for thugs and other "n'er do wells". Black men are accused of being able to offer little more than that of an intellectual dunce with the sexual prowess of a Mandingo warrior. Together we have managed to reduce our value to little worth having.

What I see most in the break down of black relationships is a lack of personal accountability, informed assumptions, and truthful communication. Black folks spend so much time finger pointing and building up bitterness they miss their opportunities to love and be loved.

It goes without saying that men AND women are often attracted to what they shouldn't have. I love french fries and know they aren't good for me. However, they are fried, greasy, salty goodness that tastes delicious. I don't love french fries because I am a woman. I love them because I am human an salty tastes good to HUMANS. It is the same with men and women. We choose that which feels good but rarely is good for us. That's human nature, not some sort of gender predisposition.

The day we stop trying to rule one another by way of emotional manipulation, vague communication meant to keep up confusion, and an air of bravado in an attempt to ward off hurt feelings is the day we will all be better equipped for relationships with one another. If is the preconceived notions that continue to keep us apart. The more men and women buy into these misconceptions, the further apart we find ourselves.

I have never nor will I EVER look for a man. No one will ever hear me say I cannot FIND a good man because I believe the Bible when it says, "Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing and obtaineth favour of the Lord" (Proverbs 18:22). I expect to be found, not to find. I believe that is women's first mistake. We are out of pocket from jump when we try to find someone who should be looking for us. Men are seekers and that dates back to the beginning of time. Flirting notwithstanding, I believe men and women have forgotten their rightful places in romantic pursuits. I realize that sounds "old school", but I very much believe that.

I also think as women have become overly aggressive, men have become passive, wussy, and even entitled with expectation that the women chase them. Unfortunately, women do it willingly and the cycle is perpetuated. Men begin to feel as though they are more valuable than anything as if they should be chased. They take advantage of their increased value and use it to manipulate women's affections. Women, in turn, bite the bait and chase after someone who they will never really have.

We all continue to play ourselves because we aren't prepared to perform our roles. Everything is out of order and bad behavior on both ends is often rewarded because one is handsome, muscular, curvy, tall, wealthy, etc... I hate the way we blame one another instead of figuring out what each of us can do to make our lives and our relationships better.

Tiny Bubbles

Yesterday I was exhausted. I work on a job I don't like and the work coupled with the people can prove tiresome. I had a project due in class that nobody on my team bothered to do, I had to run to the grocery store, AND I had to use my lunch break to go get a six month overdue smog check. It was definitely one of those days. Hell, it was one of those weeks. HOWEVER, despite the stress, frustration, and exhaustion that weighed down my body, I still made time to review my sample ballot and get myself to my designated polling place to speak my political mind.

There have been plenty of election days in my 18 years of voting eligibility when I have not felt like going to the polls. Yesterday wasn't the first day I was tired on an election Tuesday. But any time I even entertain the idea of not going to the polls my mind is filled with visions of water hoses, billy clubs, burning crosses, bloodied bodies, and corpses laying in the streets. All of those suffering have faces that look like mine. They had hard days at work too. They had crying babies, overdue bills, and lived under the Jim Crow regime yet they still sacrificed everything so I would be able to go to the polls. Those are the reasons I vote. I cannot justify resting at home on my couch because I have had a hard day when those who came before me had hard lives and still fought for my right to vote. So, hurt feet, hurt heart, tired body, and all - I trudged to the polls yesterday. If for no other reason, it was to say thank you to those who made it possible for me to walk into a booth and fill in several tiny bubbles. There is no other alternative.

Dealt It and Smelt It

In between my emotional tangents on feeling as if I'll be single forever, I revel in the joys of living alone. My little piece of the world is the one place I can always go for solace. There is no one asking me for anything, nobody is arguing with me, my supervisor isn't annoying me with his mere presence, and I can watch whatever I want on TV which generally means all the Law & Order episodes my mind can stand. I'm a bit of a neat freak but there is a certain pleasure in knowing I can leave the "draws" I was wearing in the middle of the floor should I chose to do so. I decorate as I please, I pick the paint I want, and when it's time to go to bed, I can curl up in the fetal position or stretch out and take up every bit of mattress space if I want. I've often said one of the best things about living alone is the right to fart unapologetically.

All the benefits aside, I sometimes wonder if I'll be able to live with another person again. Is there a possibility that all this freedom makes me more likely to be impossible to endure? Should the off chance of me experiencing love again arise, I'd hate to ruin it all because of how particular I am about cup placement in the cabinet or the position of the toilet seat (Still, who really doesn't close the cap on the toothpaste these days?). Despite my occasional concern about what kind of cohabitant I will be, I have to believe that the right one for me will make the transition easy. Whatever makes me love him will also help me to relax when I see him using my bathroom towels to wash his car. At least, that's what I think about at night when I'm sprawled across my bed staring at my undies on the floor. Ah, good times.

Hip Hop Hobblin'

I could be in a dead sleep but put on Busta's "Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See", and you'll get at list one fist pumping in the air. On a good day, I'm shaking my hips- the good one AND the one that aches right before it rains. That's what good hip hop does for me. The lyrics incite reflection, laughter, and learning. The beats move my body almost involuntarily as I scream out, "Heeeeeey"!. I have been loving on and listening to hip hop for almost as long as I've been living. This is probably the main reason for this post.

Since I've arrived in the thirty somethings, I've been wondering if I'm too old for hip hop. I've pondered giving up my shell toes, turning in my bucket hat, and listening to nothing but the sweet, sweet sounds of the Isley Brothers. The stuff I hear on the radio exhausts me and I am almost guaranteed to hate the latest popular rapper. I don't want to Dougie, do the stanky leg, or Superman a ho. However, every time I hear Electric Relaxation I'm reminded why I stay. Hip Hop is amazing and it is a representation of my life from childhood to the ripe old age of ...{inaudible}. Besides, I feel obligated to share what happened before everything got watered down with my little brother. At 18 he has an expansive knowledge of old school hip hop and current underground artists who are still representing the world of hip hop in its most raw form and I like to think I had plenty to do with that. There's something about putting on some Dilla tracks and watching his face light up that reminds me why I love it so much and why I'm not quite ready to give up my bamboo earrings (at least two pair).

I suppose in the end I'll be one of those older people standing in the back of a show, away from the "babies", hands in the air, bifocals on, wearing a big rope chain and shaking whatever is left. I plan to keep my hand up for hip hop for as long as I can.

Best If Used By...

The other day I used the last of a bag of rice that had been sitting in my cabinet since last December. It had a flavor I didn't really care for and was not something I would buy. Instead, it was purchased by a guy I dated all of two weeks who brought it over to use for the dinner he cooked me. That delicious dinner, the great company, and the out of the ordinary conversation made me think there was promise for something that would go past the first few dates. Unfortunately, the bag of rice lasted much longer than he did.

In reviewing my "relationships" I have noticed that few have lasted past ninety days. They all start with a spark and end with a fizzle or sometimes a huge, five alarm mental and emotional fire set by yours truly leaving nothing but smoky rubble. Though I tell myself I want something long term and meaningful, I wonder if I am somehow sabotaging the process or if ninety days is about how long it takes for one to stop pretending to be a kinder, gentler version of himself and let his real tail show.

The first thirty days are wonderful. Phone conversations until the wee hours, fun dates, good morning texts, and fiery physical attraction. The next thirty seem to level out. Real life interferes and dates get cancelled or rescheduled because of work, school and family obligations. People get a little lazy because they feel they've already scored. The throughout the day texts turn into one half ass good morning text and a good night text if you're lucky. It is during this time one starts to wonder if the situation is really going to work but in the end is convinced it will because the good stuff from the first thirty must be coming back pretty soon, right?

The third month is usually a disaster. By then I've begun flirting with new prospects and collecting backup phone numbers to be called at day 91. The cute stuff done in the beginning has practically stopped, the dates are few and far between, and even the phone calls are a little light. At some point someone has farted proving the "cute" phase is over and I usually find out about his criminal record, extra kids, psycho ex, or prison record. Sometimes it's none of those things and it just fizzles out because the interest is lost and the fun is over.

So in all this reflection I keep wondering what the magical potion is to get past the expiration date. Surely there must be some secret in getting all the way to day 91. Maybe I really have just met people with whom I wasn't compatible or maybe I just don't know how to ziploc the relationship to keep it fresh for longer. Either way, from now on, I will be checking the label before I even engage.