Priorities.

Today I met with a classmate of mine to discuss a reading for the class we have tomorrow. While the class is a seminar class and the whole point is discussion of the reading, we have opted to meet every Sunday to decide what points we need to bring up in class so as to be sure sure our thoughts are heard on the subjects. We are the black students in the class. I, a fresh master's student, she, a new PhD student. My prof loved the idea of the black kids setting the agenda. He is a white man legitimately holding a black card for all intents and purposes. Let me say, another black classmate of mine who had him as a professor at another school thought he was an albino the first two years she knew him. Yes. He is a white black man. I'd go so far as to say African. He is an African man. In a white guys body.

Anyway, I got to meet with my new friend and we discussed the reading, briefly. But we also got to share our stories of struggles in school and how we overcame those struggles. She is amazing. Let's call her Fancy. Fancy is from Kenya but she is Ethiopian. She has a husband and a two year old and she is smart. I am thrilled. I admire so much what she has gone through to ensure good grades and quality education. But what is more amazing to me is how they live here. As an international student, they have little money. All the money she receives from the school goes towards bills. We do not receive large stipends at all. In fact, of the schools she was accepted to, she choose this one because it offered the largest stipend. She says her son grows too fast and she purchases all of his clothes at second hand stores. Unless she gets some extra money. Then she buys him new things.

The first day of our T.A. training, she came up to me and said how she is so happy to see there are three Africans in our program. She told me that despite being African American, we are sisters and we have to stick together in our department because we are all we got. And she is SO right! I was thrilled as well to see her and the other girl but the way she embraced me was surprising. In undergrad, I was very involved with our African Student Council. But I have been told more times than once that I was not truly African because I was born here and so were my parents. The African students would laugh at us or some times be irate that we were attempting some faux brand of Africanity. Initially, I would fall silent and get hurt feelings, but eventually I realized they were as blind as some of the Africans on this continent. We are all the same people. My new response became, if your sibling was kidnapped away from your family and taken to another place and then they grew and married and had children and you found one another again, would your children be cousins? Are they still your sibling? In the same way, we are all the same people. Especially because the students I was dealing with then were all from West African countries.

But Fancy is from East Africa. And without any hesitation she claimed me as her friend. I feel very close to her already. I know there is so much I can learn from her. At the same time, she wants her minor focus to be on African American Studies. So she has much to learn from me. We had a lovely time. I made dinner and then I showed her the decades old photographs salvaged from the sociology department's incinerator pile and residing in my office while I decide on how to archive them. She was thrilled. Historian's are like that. We get off on historical documents.

I was able to give her all of Sun's winter and fall clothes from last year. It's too small but just the right size for her son. She walked out with four bags of clothes and shoes! I felt good but in the same way, I felt like I should be living way simpler. I am a student. That is my life. Yet I know I have spent over a grand in the past month on clothes and accessories. I am not exaggerating. I have so many clothes and shoes and everyday I find a reason to buy more. I love to buy food from restaurants. I hate fast food so any lunch I buy, even to go is costing at least $10. I dress nice to campus every day. Not undergrad nice, but office nice. I get compliments all day, every day and I love it but now I wonder if I am dressing for the compliments rather than to be appropriately attired. I feel foolish. What is really important to me?

Fancy was able to attend a Midwestern university after getting in bachelor's in Nairobi. Her school gave the top female student full tuition scholarship plus an assistantship at the Midwestern school every year. When she graduated she was that student. When I graduated, I had to finagle my way into grad school on a hope and a prayer. Nonetheless, she says we will push each other to be the very best because as Black women we can do anything. I believe her.

My seven cycle

So I've always known, but come to appreciate even more today, that my life works out in these seven year cycles. Most understand seven is a divine number. But seven is also my number. I recognized it from the time I was six and wanted to be seven badly and decided it was my number forever. Numerologically, it is also my number. I feel this simply represents my direct cosmic connection to the ethers, various dimensions, ancestral spirits and of course, source energy. As a human being, it has manifested itself in the way my life has played out. Seven years after I lost my virginity, I got married (yes I was a baby). Seven years from when I initially began, I obtained my bachelor's. I overindulged in herbal remedies, trying to soothe my depression, for seven years before I was forced to quit. I also suffered depression for seven years. This year, I finally feel I am the woman I aimed to become once I was able to decide exactly what it is that is me. I defined all that in 2002. Today is 2009, seven years. It was a work in progress, an will continue to evolve, but I can say I have reached my initial vision.

So, in 2002, I decided I wanted to be happy in my skin. I no longer wanted other people's perceptions, ideas and socialization to affect how I carried myself. Because before that point I did. I had a friend, a negative little girl, who was the official naysayer to whatever I expressed interest in. When I would attempt to wear my hair out in an afro, people would say stuff like, "who she think she is? Erykah Badu wannabe." I'd go and tie my hair down. Oh, how could I forget? My last perm was in 2002. Seven years ago and now I have made this final dedication to loc'ing my hair without taking it down or cutting it for at least 6 years. Maybe I'll switch it to seven just in case. So in 2002, I met some great people who were all at various stages of fighting to be themselves. Everyone was nappy. I decided I no longer desired to have the latest fashion just because its what everyone else was wearing (it never felt right on me). I began to speak openly about what I believed and my perceptions on various ideas in the classroom even if it went completely against the grain of what everyone else was saying. I spoke firmly but would always end my statements with, "I don't even know if I'm making any sense," as a way provide a disclaimer, or apologize for what I said. But people began to smile, the "normal" people, black kids and professors with the latest styles, the cool kids, the greek people, girls with weave wraps. The moment I felt I was becoming new was the day in class when we discussed the idea of black women having to make a choice between careers and having a family. While most of the class said there was no choice, I argued that even if you get married, have kids AND a career, something would suffer. You can either be a super mom and be mediocre in your job or be a ball buster, pulling in loot and respect, but having to rely on sitters, teachers and television to raise your child. I have since re-evaluated my position, but that day, in 2002, when I made my five minute long comment, no one said a word afterwards. I felt as I must have said the dumbest thing. Then my professor leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and asked, "class?" They broke out in applause. I still get red faced thinking of it. But at that moment, I began to understand I had very different ideas and it only served for the greater of all to be sure they were heard. Today, seven years later, I am taking steps to ensure I just don't say whatever whenever. Rather, I want to implement what I know will make a difference. I started my first blog back in 2002 and since that time I've been told several times over I should write a book. I always figured I would, but I also figured who would want to read it if it's not about sex? You see, I would only want to write with a black audience in mind. Because that is what makes the most sense to me. That is who I am and who I aim to help. I don't know what it is that I will write on, but it will be something. I just am now pulling it together. I just now have the conviction that I can accomplish something like a book. Previously I thought it was procrastination and laziness that would hold me back. But once I determined it was depression that tied my hands and mind down, and after being able to pinpoint the source of that depression, I feel as I have emerged the woman I always wanted to be.

I had more to say, but something just threw me terribly off.

Eyeshadow, Sneezing, and Africana Intellect

Hubby, the future dietitian, said he thinks coffee is my culprit. I think so too. Weening myself will NOT be fun.

So recently, my youtube browsing has created an new hobby. I went from having 2 Maybelline eyeshadow trios to this:


Not much except it's been acquired in a matter of weeks. I've more since I snapped that pic. I LOVE the youtube contests that get you to try different looks. But I seem to be color blind or something when it comes to putting these things together. Yesterday, me and the sis played with my stash:



Since I woke up I haven't stopped sneezing. I think it's the over abundant sta sof fro in my hair at the moment. My hair kept falling in my face today. But when I had my wrap on earlier, that was really the only time my sneezes left. So I hope that's it. When we woke this morning Sun told me I was hot. I didn't think nothing of it. Til' hubby said the same. Then I started feeling yucky. THEN, I thought I was only feeling yucky because I was thinking I might be sick. So I cleaned up my kitchen, arranged for the kid to get picked up and headed to the gym. That's when "it" happened (see below). Maybe it was a mixture of caffeine withdrawal and being slightly under the weather.

Anyway, I want to feel better.

I started a new book the other day, The Feminine Mistake by Leslie Bennetts. I'm feeling it thusfar but can't fight the feeling that this largely does not apply to African American women. I got to thinking, maybe there isn't much that DOES apply to African American women in regards to feminism other than it being the white woman's realm. There could be something worth exploring here. I've only recently begun to delve into the realm of Audrey Lorde. I think many may dismiss her on a personal level because she is a lesbian. I had slowly begun to consider just this semester that perhaps, when I begin my PhD studies, I will focus on African Feminisim. During this past decade, I have shyed away from anything even remotely associated with feminism, women's rights and so forth. WHY? Somehow, somewhere I picked up the awful idea that people would think I'm a lesbian, and a bitch, if even assumed to perhaps be interested in feminism. Fortunately for me, I have an awesome muse. Said muse informed me those ideas were largely outdated. No one thinks that way anymore. Outdated is correct. Thougtwise, incorrect. Just as someone convinced me of this foolishness, others have been convinced as well. For instance: the car I recently acquired had this god awful orange construction looking sticker stuck to it which read: "Woman Working." It annoyed me only because it appeared to me to be such an in your face, I am woman hear me roar, feel to it. Not my steelo. But hubby, dear god, he HATES it. He said, "I can't have everyone thinking your into this American Feminist crap." No, he's not American. But why does it have to be crap. Personally, I don't think he really understands what feminism is. And honestly I didn't until I began to slowly give it a chance sometime last fall. In fact, it was reading up on various African matriarchal systems that spurred my interests. "Marriage," as we know, appears to exists only within patriarchal societies across the global. Marriage is, in effect, the monopoly on another person's sexuality. In Matriarchal societies, there is no you belong to me. All this, I own you as my spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever and the expectation that as humans we are only to bind ourselves to one singular individual for the entirety of our lives despite how we and they may evolve, is rubbish. That is why we live in a nation of psychos. At least, that is my take.

But this is my area to expound on and I already shared too much.

I will hunt you down and kill you if you steal my idea. You've been forewarned. :-)

I just felt a need to get my intellect somewhere in this blog. My blog description is so much to live up to. It's what I ponder daily. My old blog was all over my descript, but alas, I grew out of it.

Laws of Attraction:

Yes, i'm an avid "The secret" fan, and I believe in the laws of attraction. In fact i've attracted much thus far. I promise to make a list of all that i've received thus far, but for now, I wanted to list the things I want to attract.

*Now that I am officially in my History M.A. program, I want to be accepted to Emory University for the PhD program in African History. It is number 9 in the country.
*Upon being accepted, I want to be offered The Emory Graduate Diversity Fellowship, to last my entire time of study.
*When I begin my PhD studies I want to live in a modern, spacious, two bedroom apartment with dishwasher and washer and dryer in a multi-unit apartment building complete with security and free wireless hi-speed internet. This apartment will be $800 or less per month and include water, a dedicated parking space and have a lot of sunlight.
*I want to receive my Master's in History with a 4.0 cumulative GPA.
*I want to complete my Master's program in History in August 2010.
*I want to begin the PhD program in African History in the Fall of 2010.
*I want to obtain and fully own a black Mazda3 hatchback before I move to Atlanta.
*I want to live in Atlanta, Georgia when I begin working on my PhD.
*I want Femi to attend an African-centered school in Atlanta and for him to begin that schooling at 4 years old.
*I want my locs to be bra strap length without stretching by August 2010.


I am currently on track to graduate with my M.A. in August 2010. My husband, however, will not be finished with his program until Spring 2011. We have decided that we will not prolong my time here, but that I will go ahead and move to Atlanta with our Sun. I want a two bedroom so we can be comfortable though a large one bedroom will be fine for Sun and I. However, we are seeking for hubby to be placed into a dietetics internship at Emory University Hospital once he completes this degree. This internship will take up all of his time and is unpaid. So if I already have a two bedroom, it will be fine to keep once he arrives. While we are living separately, we want him to have a position as a resident adviser in the dorms or as a dorm parent at the local private high school. In fact, we are seeking for him to get one of those positions for this upcoming fall. For the most part, we live off of my grad money now which is absolute minimal. He works part-time once a week which is less than part time but also does a few personal training sessions. We get by fine. When he begins at the hospital, we will completely rely what I bring in, but I think that is fine. We completely own our cars and anything we receive in the future will be the same way. I know living simply for a few years will pay of manifold in the future.