~Adah~’s Neighborhood

][originally posted 10 August 2009 via  Journey Back to Me ][

A Damn Shame

The other day while I was cleaning up my Blogrolls, I happened on a link to a Youtube video on Lady Kinnks’ Blog titled “Nappy Ass Hair” and clicked on it our of sheer curiosity.  What I saw both enraged and saddened me.

Posted there on Youtube, for the world to see, was a recording of a relatively “young” mother performing an act of child abuse under the guise of combing the beautifully full head of hair of what I assume to be her multi-racial daughter.  For approximately five minutes and eight seconds, this mother, who’s facial expression was one of fury reserved for a legitimate beef with an adult, uses a plastic bristled paddle brush to savagely rake through the child’s “dry” hair, oblivious to any snags or snarls, in a fashion that makes my own scalp hurt in sympathy.  In addition to this atrocity, behind the camera is the child’s aunt OLDER SISTER engaging in a bevy of belly laughs, guffaws if you will, at the child’s expense as the mother pins the child to her leg, the floor and the couch while grabbing handfuls of the child’s hair, uttering such phrases as “Move your fucking hand!” and “I’ll fuck you up!” to the screaming girl who could not be more than six years old… if that.  If that isn’t enough, at about FIVE MINUTES and ten seconds of this five minutes forty-six second video, a little boy, who could be seen running back and forth in front of the  camera and was alternately taunted by the aunt older sister about his turn coming up, is enlisted to wrangle the child back to her mother after she successfully breaks away.  His attempts prove futile after ten seconds, so the mother has no other choice but to get up and pull the child by her arms back to the couch, where she continues her assault.  This time with a pick.

NOTE: If you can not tell from the still above, the video is pretty brutal so I will not post it or a link to it here, but if you really want to see it, Google the video title and Youtube and it will be the first result, if it’s still there by the time this is posted.

From what I gather the original video was flagged as inappropriate and yanked from the site, but apparently someone else* got a hold to it and uploaded it again.  As you could guess, aside from a few yokels the responses to this video, both in text and via video, were filled with anger and disbelief at the mother, as well as sympathy for this girl.  I personally was livid and had to fight to hold back tears for this child I don’t know from Adam’s house cat.  The first thing that went through my mind was how could this woman who gave birth to and raised this little girl 1. treat her so brutally, 2. allow other family members to stand by and encourage the abuse while ridiculing the child, and 3. agree to this being documented via video and uploaded to the Internet.  The second thing that went through my mind was, thanks to someone else feeling the need to rebroadcast this vicious attack yet not REPORT IT, will this be used as an example to others as to how black mothers handle their child’s “nappy ass hair”?  Honestly, what I really thought was, will this serve as an example as to how all black mother’s handle their children, period?

While it is painfully obvious this mother — whose hair looks relatively neat, well cared for and “freshly” permed — needs more than a few parenting lessons, or  better yet, to be taken outside and having her “hair treated in the same manner” (read that as a metaphor for having her ass kicked),  it is also evident that this woman could stand a lesson on how to properly detangle and brush her daughter’s hair.  As far as the detangling lessons, what’s sad is there are tons of tutorials on the very same site the video was posted on, and at least three video pleas for the woman to contact them personally show her how it’s done.  Chances are the woman will never see the comments (the video was uploaded in mid July… there’s not one response from her at all) and thereby never get help with taking care of the little girl’s hair or being a better mother.

Even though the immediate physical and verbal abuse is apparent within the video, one can’t help but imagine the perceptions this girl will take  of herself into her teen years and womanhood.  On top of the overall stigmas attached to ethnic hair that are already prevalent in society, with her mother treating her hair as if it is an abomination and an inconvenience, there is no doubt in my mind that unless there is an intervention to stop this sort of treatment, that beautiful little girl will grow up fostering a deep disdain for herself by virtue of how she views her hair.  More than the violent combing of the child’s hair, this is the point that bothers me the most.  I took me over 30 years to consciously to accept my hair just based on society’s belief that black hair is “bad” hair.  I couldn’t imagine how long it would have taken if I’d suffered any personal “attacks” on that pinpointed my hair specifically.  It’s like this baby doesn’t have a chance, and it’s because of her mother’s actions that she’ll fight a personal battle, possibly for the rest of her life.  My heart bleeds for her, especially since the baby’s only means of defense is to kick and scream and yell “I hate you!” at assailant; her mother.

If you have a chance to view the video, tell a friend and spread the word.  Not just to get the video flagged, which I honestly think should not happen in the event that someone who knows this mother and child and may get them both the help they need.  But spread the word so that all of us who embrace ethnic hair, whether relaxed or natural, know that this type of stuff is still going on within our community, placing five more bricks on the wall of ignorance for every one we try to tear down.  Spread the word so that the jealousy involved in pitting “good” hair against “bad” hair loses just a bit more strength between us, and hopefully stops being passed from mother to daughter.  And, if you watch the video, please come back and tell me what you thought. It would be much appreciated.

NOTE: After reading this blog post on TheRoot.com I have been made aware that the “mother” and child are from my home city, which hurts my heart to no end and makes me really take this personal.  Fortunately, the authorities were alerted (this gives me hope that Detroit isn’t fully dead).  For more information, surf on over HERE.  KinkyKeeper with comment #30 says it better than I ever could.  And sadly, it seems there was more than one video taken of this horror show.

Blessed Be…

M. Michelle

* The someone else who posted the video after it was taken down by administrators had this to say:

“its just a trip how the girl is actin all that screamin and stuff and throwing stuff cuz she dont want her hair brushed the little girl is actin way over the top and the mother means no harm.”

I’m sure HE posted it thinking it would get him a laugh or two from the Black community.  And that is really a damn shame.

From your Boo Bear...remember when you said maybe its best we kept our other relationships to ourself? Yet you went ahead and asked in spite of. I was thinking maybe I talked too much. None the less, I don't regret a thing. So many times I set back and think a lot about what ifs. All these whys and not enough answers.

    Its simple, two people that attract can't just be friends. Its next to impossible. Only way I can see it happening is if we allowed someone else to occupy that space in my heart that you have held so long. For my love for you some times seems surreal. For we have been apart longer than together, yet what we have has always remained.

So many times when I have been down just the thought of what we could have or will have has always made things so much smoother. I mean everytime I think of a future it has always been with you in it. Shoot, I never wanted to except any other path. Yet, I still have to let life takes its course.

    Lord knows I want you. I want to be that man at the alter quoting the vows and meeting all your family in Indiana. I want to piss your dad off because he can't size me up. (So I heard fathers tend to do) I want to hear you fuss about not turning the the lights off or leaving my boxers on the kitchen sink. I want to experience all the small things in life with you, Holly Noel Guynn.

    I just feel like we have a quiet lowkey relationship that you like to spark everytime you feel the need too. Then once something happens you run on into your own life and leave a brotha stuck on stupid. Ahh naw playah. I put it so blunt but thats what it is.Now after what I said about Lydia I know you still have that second guess about me. What can I say I'm human. I understand how you felt when you broke things off with me. You needed raw emotion. The intimacy and affection that I couldn't provide from a far. 

    A beautiful and strong woman like you can have any mannnnn you want. I'm sure when you go to Ivy Tech you'll find somebody that share the same morals and beliefs as you. Someone who can appreciate you for who you are as I have. For I know I will never find another Holly. You are like a needle in a haystack, but with the on going on and off and on and off and so forth...I'm tired.

    For I need a lady like yesterday. Whats to become of us....IDK. Until this point on I been kinda avoiding relationships and dating to a degree. For one I think my standards have been a bit high. I feel now that with it all, I need to step out. Waiting for a female to walk into my life seems like a fairytale now a days. I sound like a broken female waiting to be swept of my feet or some ish aye? Naw, Im just at wit ends.

Im only human and to sit up endure the hardship of being alone, makes me a dayum fool. Ahhhhh naw playah. Im sick of my current situation and I want more. I the whole being patient thingy and letting life take its course not workn for me. You do you and Im going to do me. It seems to be best at this moment. As of the other day, I see somethings are better left unsaid, but...this has to be said.

    I love you. BELIEVE IT. If you were here or I was there, I'd be trying to put a ring on your finger. I tried to make it work. Even after you in so many words...dumped me. I could put up with distance knowing that we would have something worth waiting every minute for. Im just sick of waiting around on stupid mode. Its not your fault. You didn't put a gun to my head and make me wait. For I just loved every thing about you. I just needed the Lord to send me a sign. He seemed to be cool with me waiting, but time is of essence. This is life.

    With that...stay you and and I will remain.

This morning I woke up from a dream whose topic matter would be far from suitable for anything short of a very adult dvd.. sure that doesn’t surprise many or any for that matter.  Initially I was tickled at how good the dream felt and actually considered being consumed with the subject matter of the dream. What surprised me was what I was able to take from that dream.  I realized that a void in my life that I’m always trying to fill is not one that is some very simple its complex.  In a recent conversation with a non-genetic sibling (sister from another) a question was posed to me that touched on the subject of human existence and human nature.  She wanted to know why things ALWAYS have to be so complex… so hard.  I gave the answer I have come to accept, as an aspect of the reality that I see.  Things in life are hard because WE as people make them hard.  Concepts like Algebra and Calculus complicated the simple reality that 1 + 1 = 2. Why the complication was necessary I don’t know but apparently it had something to do with the necessary challenges that help make us feel as though something has been accomplished that everyone else couldn’t just as easily accomplish.

What I discerned in thinking about my dream is the same thing I realized about the person in the dream and the person I was thinking about before I went to sleep and the person I spoke to on the phone before I decided to call it a night and my fraternity brothers and a plate of mashed potatoes and chicken fried steak with cream gravy they have all proven to be something I seek to have as a constant in my life – comfort. Comfort food eases the spirit and soothes the soul and makes us forget that something may have been wrong. Funny enough a person that brings that comfort has the ability to do the same thing so long as I allow them to serve that purpose in my life.  While each person in my life serves their own individual purpose, they all work in a web to help me stay afloat over the pit of despair and depression that plagues us all at sometime or another.  Perception allows us all to spread the weight and strength of comfort in ways that don’t usually allow a singular person to be too intricately woven into the fabric of our comfort.  However there are those of us that suffer the slings and arrows that life uses to assault us when we find too much comfort in others and not in ourselves.  For those devout religious figures this would be the part where they would say that the best thing to do is to make sure that you remember that GOD is the ultimate comforter and that allowing GOD in your life is what helps.  I could argue the point either way and probably get a kick out of the process but what I will say is that the presence of a higher power in an individuals life is still contingent upon that individual which points to something that I, and maybe others have missed for so long, the main source of comfort may well be housed right in ourselves.

I’ve found comfort in hanging out with my rowdy frat brothers because it’s a chance to be one of the wild boys and to let it all hang out.  I’ve found comfort in my jobs because I’ve felt that I’ve been able to help people with aspects of their lives that have proven to be a challenge.  I’ve found comfort in the arms and affections of women as they allow me the chance to feel as though even for a fleet moment I’m either the match or the wood but most importantly I’m part of the fire that burns in passion.  I’ve found comfort in writing as it gives my words a chance to get out of my head and maybe touch more people than I could by talking.  I’ve found comfort in the peace that comes from being alone while I’m walking or swimming as I take that time to clear my mind and just be. 

If you’ve taken up the mantle – once or numerous times – thank you for being a comforter in my life, you’ve helped more than you might ever realize.

so a little over a year ago I walked into walmart... it was late and most of the world had already called it a night, but me I was getting off work and I knew I needed to get some diapers for my son, so hi-ho the merrio a-Walmarting-I-must go. I was wondering what else I might need when my eyes locked on her.  I was pretty sure she wasn't on sale but I knew she was indeed want worthy.  I looked a little harder and realized I knew her, kinda.  I had recently met her at a house party but I couldn't remember her name...  She was checking out, I was walking in so I stood by her line and asked her if she was getting enough cash for me.  She laughed and then realized, "Oh snap I do know him!"

I talked her into walking around the store with me inspite of the fact she had already made her purchase and thus a friendship... an opportunity... a situation... a something was born.  We realized that we knew plenty of the same people and that knowing each other wouldn't be so bad.  A month and some change later she drove away to another part of the world and a little part of me died.  That month made me feel like I was a bug - because while it was only a month it felt like a life time had passed.  We continued to communicate and get to know each other, thankful that we hadn't "taken the big plunge".

When she flew into town I was estatic, like a kid that had a golden ticket to the chocolate factory and won that yearly shopping spree to toys r'us that we all prayed we'd win back in the day.  She walked down the ramp towards baggage claim smiling and there I stood smiling like an idiot... or a fool that had fallen in love.  I made her cookies from scratch - two kind and she made me a cd.  We saw a movie about lovers that couldn't be together or they would become weak and die and our hearts cried sadly... later that night we loved each other and she cried joyfully...

and now just over a year from when we met I cry a monson inside because the situation that kept us apart is being resolved but our together is now blocked by her together... with someone else.  I hold strong to my feelings and am known for my tenacity, but in this situation I wonder if my tenacity won't be but a pipe dream.  He's a great guy apparently and she's very happy, and as her friend I want to be happy for her.  But as the lover that is left alone I am simply that... the lover left alone... in a world full of others. a fool in some respects a brave soul in others.  I loved.  I care.  I  wait.  I live. I am.

sky art

 naw... it's just me, deciding to update this thing.

how's it going for everyone?  for me... it's cool for the most part.  can't complain. i'm still here in columbus trying to get established and what not.  so far, the process has been a major exercise in "hurry up and wait," but  guess that's par for the course given the state of the economy and what not.  beyond that i've been largely chilling here in the lion's den, writing and plotting.  i have four new blog sites:

scattered word pictures - where i post random thoughts and other trivialities.

journey back to me - my natural hair spot.

triple goddess productions - freelance writing/editing and small press.

life through the lense - my photoblog.

the last two are "in development" at the moment, but the first two are in full swing.  sooner or later my webmistress/BFF will throw my personalized themes up and i'll be fully in business, but for right now i'm quite pleased with what's up there.

the e-quad are okay.  i spoke with saburo a couple of day ago and he's missing me something terrible.  i can't wait until i finally have my own place and can bring him down cause i miss his smiles and hugs just as much.  adah is still pregnant and from what i hear she and the idiot friend boy are doing well (he lives with them now... don't ask... i don't know).  taro is scheduled to go back to cali this month as soon as his grandmother goes to get him, and jiro is working hard to bring his grades up in school.  so all in all they are doing well.  i was supposed to go up this coming weekend to spend mother's day with them but belladonna is down and money for bus fare is nonexistant. *sigh* if  nothing else i'll be able to talk to them each again on sunday and the opportunity for me to go visit will re-present itself in two weeks.

other than all that... life is pretty dull and tame for me, and i won't complain about that either.  after so much drama for such a long time as i was experiencing it, it's kinda nice to have nothing to "write home" about most days.

so what's new with alla you?  i'm just dying to hear the latest word.

blessed be...
m. michelle
 

    Not matter what I do or where I go, when I look back its forever there. I can't hide from it for its who I am. At times it seems like a burden I don't want to bare, but none the less I am a fighter. I am a writer. I am a dancer. I will get crump on the hatefulness. I will gracefully hustle on the stupidity. I will diligently let my pen move smoothly across the page to invite the past head on. Not to disdain it or speak down upon it, but to pray for it. To pray for the future. I am a musician. Ill let my keys paint a picture on this place of which we call air. Let it resonate against the everyday struggle of my fellow brothers and sisters and I. Let it peace to you high tides, but still remind us where we have come from. Born into a society thats set up for me to fail. Its not that I don't want to succeed, but it because I lack the knowledge on how. Everyone dreams of going to college, but what does that matter if you don't make it out of highschool? So you turn to what you know. The streets. Now I can't speak for the sadly confused. The few who are fortunate. The brothahs who parents paved away so they could have a better life. Yet they feel they have to tough? The negros that have to be the hardest students in school when mommy and daddy have busted their chops just to live a middle class life. Yet they have to act "black". Stereotypical...yes, but its the life as it is. True enough poverty leads to crime, but its sad that we use that aspect of our lives to define us. I refuse. For I know that it will for ever be against me, but ya know. IM BLACK and I LOVE IT. If I have to give 110% to get to where you only had to give 75% well dammit I will. For life is a beautiful struggle. For it makes success that much sweeter. So when I ever I look back, you don't have to tell me that I'm black, I see it. I live it. I know it. I will never forget it. IM BLACK.

Wait a minute!
Take your time.
Think about...
What?
You!
Think about self.
Who are you....
What defines thee?...
Me?
Who am I?
Pshh..
I'm...
I'm ahhhhh...
I'm Nate....?
Cheaaa, Nate.
What defines me?
Easy.
The life I have lived.
Where I have come from...
Where I have come from to where I am now.
Nate.
Nate?
...but I was born Nathaniel.

Many times I sit back and try to evaluate self.
Im a happy?
Im I living in His name?
Could I do better?
Why am I here?
What my next step?
Step...
They say you must crawl before you walk.
You must 'gu gu and gah gah' before you can talk.
You must hurt before you can understand pain.
You must lose before you know what it is to gain.
...they say alot of things.
The wise listen, while the fools wait to talk...
You dont make mistakes, mistakes make you.
And so on and so on.
I like to call it wisdom.

Road signs guides us,
But knowing the path is different from following it.
God shows us the way, but its up to you to take it.
The story of my life....

So many times I try to come to grips with myself,
But so often I can't be found.
I seems like Im bound to fall back right where I started.
I work so hard to turn a new leaf.
I fight
I cry
I sweat
I push
I pull
I run
I swim
...then when I look down..
It seems I havent moved at all.
To give up is not an option.
To give in seems to often there.
To find what hasn't been found...
Seems to be a distant memory.
So I continue to lean into the wind.
Living like theres is no end.
While death lurks in the corner.
WE live to die...true enough.
How will I be remembered?
Will my good deeds speak for me?
Then again does it matter...
I mean when Im gone....
IM GONE.
Yet while Im here what will I do about.
Sometimes I feel all that I do now is my ticket.
All the ups and downs are just a big test.
A big test to see if I make it on the morning train to glory.
To see if I deserve the life we seek.
She puts it in her pocket...
He puts it in his closet...
Im too young to try to live righteous.
Im a wait til I get older.
So many people tell me Im rather young to be living the life that I do.
To chill and take it easy.
For I am not perfect and Im just lying to myself.
That God is going to forgive anyways so enjoy it while I can.
Yet, I try.
I try live by the book.
Put on my whole armor of God and fight...
and fight...
and fight...
and fight...
and what do you know...Im still fighting.
Thats when that so often is there...
"You are too young. All it is going to do is break you."
Thats when it really gets hard and I dont lean into wind no more...
I try to flow with it.
Then again...maybe being broken is what we all need.
See...that battle is not my mine alone.
It is the Lord.
This is when I look down and see that Im not where I use to be.
So many times we are lost in life and we dont want to be found.
We want to just go with the flow.
It seems so much easier.
Then many get older and realize the mistakes they made
and they change.
They turn to God.
Hmph.
Maybe I should take that road.
Just liveeeee a little bit.
Listen to the old kats and young fools...
NANNNN
I think all I have to do is pray more.
For when I do, I find myself standing some where new everytime.
Lost?....
Not so much..
Found?....
I NEVER LEFT.

Funny when I do my job I have to advise people of a very important but true point.  In the process of trying to help anyone else, dealing with anyone else, dare I say loving someone else you have to make sure you take of yourself.  As hard as we love and as much as we give, we can’t do much if we don’t have a base of operation from which to launch these acts of kindness.  The hard part of loving and living for many people is the taking care of self part… or maybe that’s just me?

As I sit here bobbing my head to this bomb ass playlist I have to smirk to myself.  I made this playlist like people used to make tape for people when the words from our mouth were just prone to get in their own way.  The funny part is in making any gift for someone we care for we take something, in this case a bunch of songs I didn’t help produce but I think are dope, and painstakingly arrange them in a way that when played they might say what I’m not able to say.  When I made it I could just see the receiver being overjoyed by the gift and even happier upon listening to it and clearly understanding what I want to say and scream the same thing back at the top of their lungs

*insert the sound of a needle being pulled across a record*

What matters is that I did something to show I cared.  Whether or not that individual is able to reciprocate shouldn’t have as much of an impact on the gift as I like to believe.  What matters if I gave a gift based on my feelings and those feelings were expressed.  Simple, plain and true… also done and did.  No taking it back.  The cd gets played or I get played doesn’t much matter.

Though it’s been a long time coming what I’ve done is learned that my focus has to be redirected at the handsome fella who brushes my teeth in the morning.  I can give all I want but apparently no one will ever be able to love me like I want to be loved so I have to, while being able to accept that when the time comes the person that will love me will simply love me the best they can.

I just always wanted to believe that with affection, love and all other acts of kindness, reciprocity was an attainable plain of existence.  Now that I’ve accepted that a person can only give you what they want you to have I can honestly say I look forward to the day I don’t think that sucks so much.  The bright side is when that day comes… and even goes, I’ll be a more capable person on so many levels.

All my life I had to fight… sure it’s the line from a memorable scene featuring Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfree, but its also my truth.  I’ve had to fight because I wasn’t black enough, because I wasn’t smart enough, because I did this different or because I wanted to do that my way.  Society is filled with rules – telling people how to live.  Church has rules, work has rules, traffic has rules, sports have rules, hell even writing has rules.  Funny thing about those rules the people that are charged with making and monitoring those rules continue to show the world around them how much they respect those rules by not following them.  Hell a once beloved president of the united states said, he didn’t have to follow the rules because he was president.

Kids grow up seeking approval from their parents via their achievements, accomplishments, and accolades. The funny part is in growing up somewhere along the way you are supposed to learn to do your own thing… but only within the confines of the rules.  Well I’ve never been the best in the business when it comes to following the rules.  I’ve heard for years how I get away with more than a little bit, and more than the law allows.  I’ve been told how I’m spoiled and informed that I think the world owes me something, and for once I think maybe just maybe some of those voices are right.  I feel owed a little something called respect.  I’ve fought against being like every other guy that I hear about, come across and see on a lot of levels because I see the levels of discourse and displeasure they are capable of creating.  I give til it hurts and then keep on giving and am wrong because I have the bastardized belief and opinion that people should give back to me in the same fashion.  Oddly enough when I meet most people, though they probably forget, I let them know I believe in reciprocity and that’s how I try to live my life.  But alas there go yet again another set of rules.  Either way, when that reciprocity is anything but reciprocal people can’t understand why I’m upset.  I’m being irrational…I’m being selfish…I’m just not understanding them… I’m stifling them… I’m crowding them… and the list goes on.

I got married because I was fighting to show myself and others what a good healthy relationship based on communication looked like.  I fought against short coming and insecurities – mine and my own, in an effort to hold things together.  I fought against neglect, mistreatment, Postpartum and regular depression, I fought against memories past of relationships fucked off, I fought against my own selfish whims in an effort to give like I never gave before because we talked about that being our “rule of thumb” to sustain a healthy “us”.  When those things didn’t work out and I found myself unhappy and broken hearted and tired of crying out to be heard I took various actions of my own.  I sought out attention and reassurance from others because I felt that I had persevered as best I could in one place without any positive results.  I fought for myself for once and the results thus far have been less than I would’ve expected.  That lackluster response is probably related to my desire to not hurt others though I continue to run into the reality that others have no problem hurting me.  I will continue to fight as I continue to live because sometimes its all I got and until I am able to get something else it will have to do.