bag lady

On this crisp morning as I am riding to work my mind begins to wonder. I wonder on 11-28-2011 where my father is...I wonder if hes in a safe, warm, loving place. As I wonder where he is on this day 28 of the 11th month during the year 2011, I cant help but take a jog down memory lane.

This man, short in stature with a smile of a million miles surfaced ever so often during my younger years. I remember spending days in the screen door waiting to see him from afar and listening to the drum beats of my heart. When I saw him my heart would race with anxiety not knowing what to expect but knowing that a treat awaited me. When he never showed my heart beat would stop as I sat in great disappointment. I could see him far off as there weren't many trees in my neighborhood. just complexes in close proximity to one another but enough open space to see the happenings of the hood. His walk was swift as he approached in his cut off jeans, v neck white T and duffel bag. There was always something in that bag for me and my sister from hot chips, to lip gloss, perfumes, and even bra/panty sets. I never questioned what was the motivation for such items or even how they were retrieved but later on my mother explained that my father was a thief. As a social worker and being privyed to working with the homeless population I am led to believe he carried personal belongings as well. My dad never had a place that he could call his own from what I can remember. He usually resided with his mother, other family members, prison, half way houses and I am assuming constituents he would meet on his road to .......who knows where but on "his road".

Over the years I would receive a letter or phone call that would pretty much say the same thing they have said since the beginning of time. The letters had a standard "im getting myself together" "forgive and pray for me" concept. He was really good at printing poems and religious sacraments from the internet. When he would call there was always an awkward silence after asking the standard questions how you doing, hows ivory, hows eula, and the other kids? So often my dad would ask the same question over and over again and me and my sister would just laugh telling him he had already said it. He would ask us how we were doing over and over again. I wonder if he thought the answer would change in a matter of 5 minutes or if he just didnt know what else to say.....i think i will go with the latter.lol.

The older I get the more I cant help but wonder if some of my struggles and/or success can be traced back to my parents, regardless of their lack of rearing; something like a spiritual or DNA transfer ie. nature vs. nurture. I must say that most of the spiritual and DNA make-up probably pre determined my destiny but some kind of interruption said 'not so'. As I allow my mind to wonder, I cant help but be grateful that I have had the privilege of living a life that my parents have only dreamed of and I am led to believe (a little birdy told me) that the best is yet to come. As I embark on new journeys I still think of you dad. I wonder if you are in a safe, warm, and loving place. I wonder if I saw you today what would you pull out of your duffle bag in an attempt to give me a just a piece of what you had. I realize over the years that you did not have much to give and I am sure that was the main motivation for you staying away. Your struggles with drugs and institutions stole a needed intrigal piece needed for restoration....TIME (which I've learned waits for noone). Its easy for me to say that all I really wanted was your love, but today I realize you didnt have that to give either. I am blessed that just as my mother, in the midst of lifes turmoil which caused some mental incapacities (sometimes while high and/or drunk) I am convinced you found it necessary to pray well wishes upon my life. As you walked around with your duffle bag going to and fro, I can see you in my dreams wishing that I would not experience the life you had experienced. Although, my life has seen its fair share of ashes...I want you to know that I am now receiving beauty for them. Day by day, moment by moment I am being freed from every encounter and experience that I use to hate you for not saving me from.-As I am being freed, I free you :).

Naturally so, I dont know what its like to be a bag lady (by the grace of God), but spiritually I know what it feels like to carry around a duffel filled with things Ive picked up along the way. Not quite feeling like I found a place that I no longer needed to carry this bag for security and comfort. It had become an act of habit...I learned to live with my duffel even though I knew I had a place to stay. Now that I am settling in....Im finding that I have no use to carry around this duffel anymore. I dont know what this lil ol' bag lady is gone do now that she is lighter on her feet.lol. But before I retire it I have a few things that were stored at the bottom that I forgot I put in here as it was buried beneath some hurtful things but I am so glad I found it and I want you to have it....daddy I want to give you this forgiveness, love, peace, joy, health, and prosperity. On this crisp day, I hope you are in a safe, warm, loving place :).

From your honorary bag lady,

-ebony eyes

Daddy...evenme....and you know what evenyou.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OqN0jsSeqPo&ob=av2e

food and family

The season of thanksgiving has come and is now going. One month of thanksgiving just to transition to a month of wish lists. The energy of gratitude that flows from one person to another I wish was more consistent throughout the year. The month of November causes millions of people to put life into its proper perspective. We focus on what is important, we focus on what we have, we focus on how bad things could be....WE FOCUS. The busyness of life causes us as a people to to be a focus-less people. We become compulsive and less sensitive to our needs and the needs of others. The Holidays force you to acknowledge that the season is not filled with pleasant greetings for all. As I sit around the thanksgiving table at Hope Royale (post tx housing where my mom is staying) in rural Missouri I look at the faces of those in the room and cant help but wonder about the details of their "story". As a man shares that his wife passed in April, and another is calling family members who are too far for touch to wish them a happy holiday my heart mourned for those whose thanksgiving is not filled with family and food. Moments later, I was reminded of the prayer that was executed that labeled everyone at the table as one big family. Yeah, it was non traditional when compared to the mom, dad, kids, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins...that we consider as family, but it was sure doing the trick for those (for whatever reason) did not have access to that formula. Many people across the world spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with no one to share it with or with the absence of loved ones. Although it is expected as we live on this side of heaven that loss will visit us all, it doesn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow. So, as this season comes and goes my prayer is that the lonely and desolate will be comforted and know that there is nothing traditional about being traditional at all. Food and Family feeds the heart in a way nothing else can. My family today consists of siblings, my mom, and adopted extended family. As the siblings grow older we will establish our own families and life as we know it will look different. As seasons of life change ones family will look different: From churches to nursing homes to prisons to neighbors to work to roommates to pets.....I thank God for family (whatever that may look like). Until next time.....evenme :)

Sexual Health.....and Wellness.

Ahhhh Haaaa! There is no greater feeling than finding your niche, your purpose, your "calling". I had the privilege of attending the United States Conference on Aids this weekend in Chicago, Illinois. Something happend this weekend that cannot exactly be explained in words but there was definitely a shift. I went from "I hope I receive a tool that will assist me in my position as a medical social worker" to "I am excited about being a part of a movement!"

When i interviewed at the Good Samaritan Project over a year ago I wondered what brought me there. My motivation was to have the opportunity to work in a hospital setting---for anyone who knows about the struggling salary of a social worker, having the opportunity to work in a hospital setting would open doors for a greater income, greater benefits, and upward mobility. I tell people all the time that my interview was very much a spiritual experience....there was a connection that I had with the Director that i felt compelled to take the offer although the original position I had applied for was no longer available. Now, I was still working with those infected with HIV/Aids but I was not in a hospital setting. I had never worked with this population before and had never had an interest in this epidemic. Fast forward to today....the year that i have been with this agency had been the greatest year of growth and self realization that I have ever had. As a survivor of sexual abuse and exploitation, through this position I had become comfortable with SEXUALITY. I can talk about sex in its most healthy form as well as in its most unhealthiest form. Who would ever think that someone who had experienced a life of sexual violation would have the ability to work in such a field. Ahhhh Haaaaa! Although, i would never justify such an experience it amazes me how the very thing that tried to take my life is now giving my life purpose. Within my first year at GSP my director had moved on and I still asked myself soooo....although you are a good social worker where does this whole HIV/AIDS concept fit in to the big picture. I would continually ask myself: what is your niche? I have a co-workers who have niches that included: insurance, africa, families, prison...etc all around this HIV/Aids phenomenon. Then I find myself at the United States Conference on Aids crying after a session titled: Many Women, One Voice. The energy in that one room I believe shifted the purpose of my own existence. I was overwhelmed yet inspired about my willingness and ability to: speak life, after death. WOW! MY connection to the lack of sexual health and wellness in the black community put off invisible fireworks right above my head. My spirit screamed at the importance of: breaking the silence and the conservative morals that keep us in bondage. There are so many concepts that are wrapped up in this idea of sexual health and wellness from....insurance, sexual abuse, stds, domestic violence, mental health....I came to the conclusion that a lack of education and self love has caused our communities to die without experiencing a life of healthy sexuality, self love, and freedom. The idea of sex and love needs to be redefined! I was ecstatic to hear that the conversation had started! I am excited about being a part of this conversation. I am excited about being a part of this movement. I am excited about looking a black woman in her face and saying: You are beautiful, You are worth it, You can own it, You deserve it, and You can do it~GET TESTED! This is not an act of accusing but an act of self-love. This is not an act of betrayal but an act of responsibility. This is a major step in taking control of your life, owning the results and learning how to move forward. This is a deliberate act of faith! We can catch illness...but we cannot catch health! Getting Tested it the just the beginning of Choosing Life!

A sexual experience is a very spiritual one. Realizing this, we must also realize....when done right it can add to your life but when done wrong it will take away. It can rob you of your freedom, your esteem, your ability to love.... and this we carry with us. This monkey on your back makes it difficult to get a pap or breast exam. This monkey makes it difficult to get a pat down at the airport. This monkey makes it difficult to trust friends, family, and significant others. This monkey, puts up limits and bars of fear. We learn to live with this monkey, when we internally have the power to demand that it get off of our back! Many Women, One Voice-----the conversation has begun and I believe the movement of sexual liberation/freedom through WELLNESS will cause many to break the silence and in turn break the cycle so that our little black girls and boys will learn that sex was never meant to hurt or add sorrow to ones life.

I am inspired and as a result I commit to inspiring another :).

balls and barrettes

No, I didnt have her but I feel as if she is one of my own. I remember vaguely her as a new born baby but my memory returns of the thought of dirty diapers in which I changed as she looked up with those big beautiful eyes but not yet having a vocabulary to express what she may have been thinking. I wondered then what she was thinking and I still wonder that today. She grew right before my very eyes and I watched myself give her what I always wanted. What I enjoyed most was the ability to comb all that long pretty thick hair. Walking to JMart on Independence Ave just to pick out color coordinated balls and barrettes was a joy for me. From zig zag parts to cornrolled balls I was able to express my love with every part. She sure hated when I grabbed her face with my greasy hands as I gestured her to turn to the right to insure I got the rubber band on tight. Blue Magic glazed her scalp and I am sure that she was frying in the summer sun as she would run and play in her nicely picked out outfits twinned up with her brother and the best balls and barrettes money could buy. I remember the day she graduated from pre-school in her red cap and gown. The balls and barrettes didnt match the cap and gown but I am sure they matched the outfit underneath. With not much to look forward to living in the projects, a womans hair was definately her glory. From finger wavs, to wraps, to braids, to cornrolls, to shirly temple curls...your hair was your joy. I then fast forward to May 2011 as I watched her walk the stage of Park Hill High School in her red cap and gown; obviously, this one was much bigger in size. I did have the privilege of helping her put together what would go underneath but I was not able to give her balls and barrettes. Oh, how I wish I could give her balls and barretttes once more. I guess I just had to settle for clipping her ends before she molds the wrap in which she has so flawlessly worn in her teenage years. I remember asking myself as I had to guide her off to college was it a blessing or a curse that I had to play such a role in her life. Well... now I know...IT WAS A BLESSING! Was it easy, not at all...Was it worth it...absolutely! She is growing into a beautiful young woman and I am extremely proud of her. Do I agree with everything she does...nope. Would I rather she didnt post pics on facebook in a sports bra and bed shorts...yep. If I could I would drive to prairie view a&m and whoop her ass and make her do some pumps, but I cant.lol. So now, I just pray that just as me and Ivory found our way unharmed that the Lord would do the same for her. She is my Angel. She saved my life because through her I had purpose. I am glad that my life resulted in me having to stay home and do hair because my story could have been different. Because I had an Angel, I chose to make decisions that would bless her life. Was it fair....no, will it work for my ultimate good...yes! Now that she is 13 hours away my purpose is being redefined but my new revelation is that as I reared her I was just in a safe holding place and now I shall break free! My Angel, My Angel, My Angel----oh how I love thee!