The Terrace

Last night I was sitting out on my terrace like I do every night. For the past week I've had a friend to sit with. I've been talking to the man that lives on the second floor and directly across from me. He's dating my neighbor (who's a sweetheart as well). He's intrigued by the fact that I'm a writer and we've had some pretty awesome conversations. Last night we were sitting and talking and he said that he'd gone to court earlier that day. He's going through an ugly divorce and had to be escorted in and out of the court house. He made several pleas to me. The first was if I really didn't like who I was in a relationship with, I needed to let him go before it even got so far as to what he was dealing with. I told him I understood completely (damn if that didn't make me think) but that's when the conversation got just a little bit more heavy. His children are the products of an interracial relationship. Their mother is Korean and he's white. He began to cry and he went on to explain how he was raised in Manassas, VA where racism was very prevalent but he hadn't been on the losing end . . . until now. Racism is all he sees and it's through the eyes of his children. He started to sob uncontrollably and he admitted to me that he's heard his children called names like "chinks" on the soccer field or he'd be asked ignorant questions like, "Whose children are those? Are they adopted?" Such a heartbreaking yet eye-opening discussion. His final plea to me was to write something that included his children. Something that almost obliterated the ubiquitous nature of race and made us all human and not a color. I promised I'd do so and then he called his phone number out to me and this was the very last thing that he said, "Call me anytime. I have so much to talk about and there's something about you that makes me trust you. We can have coffee some time soon." I agreed and promised to call him this week. Finally he said, "I don't know what it is about you. I know that you're black but I wouldn't know you if I saw you walk past me on the street. I've never seen your face. But I can't wait to shake your hand and give you the biggest hug I've ever given anyone." Because we're always out there after sunset we've never seen each other's faces and I think that little tidbit makes this exchange all the more beautiful. I'm really not sure why I'm sharing this with you guys but . . . . that's my life and I'm living and loving it. It's a blessing the way that I've been given so much inspiration in just a matter of months. I'm writing my heart out and I won't stop until there's nothing left to say . . .

Pandemonium

Hopefully I wasn’t alone last night while I watched the third and final presidential debate. This one out of all of them – to me – was the most influential. I try but in this case I can’t help but to be partial. I don’t know all of the political lingo like the analysts on CNN, MSNBC, and the dreaded sly FOX News, but I do know that my boy held it down. His entrance epitomized authority. Even the way that he answered questions, keeping his cool while being interrupted and over-talked. I think he did a wonderful job and I really think there isn’t much question as to who’s about to take charge and run this country. I will say that November 4th is going to be a very interesting day. History will be made (and already has been made) but . . . my prayer is no longer “Lord, let the right man get into the White House.” My prayer now is, “Lord, cover him with your blood, grace and mercy.” With only three weeks left on the campaign trail, the pot thickens. The conversations of Americans are changing and the awareness of all of us – even our children – is centered around the state of this country. Tuesday I was in the grocery store and the young man responsible for bagging my groceries noticed that I was wearing an Obama tee shirt. He asked if I liked Obama and then went on to say how he was afraid for his life. I asked how old he was. He was only 17 and wouldn’t be able to vote until the next election. Then I asked him why he was afraid and he said . . . “Well, because the KKK is going to try to kill him. But if I could vote, I'd vote for Obama. I think he's gonna win!” A young white kid and his innocence was what struck me with the bitter reality that our country really isn’t above the race card. So, this (in addition to my other political posts) may sound overly emotional and scatter-brained but I think you all know what I’m getting at. We’ve been given the keys to change. Go to the polls early or on the 4th and do what our ancestors fought for us to be able to do. While you’re standing in line pray for the safety of our future leaders, the state of our country and most of all . . . . pray for change.

Big ups to Ms. Wiggins’ 7th grade language arts students for allowing me to participate in the beginning stages of their political essays. You guys ROCK!!!!

And in closing all I gotta say is . . . OBAMA ’08!!!!!!!

Captive Collective!!!!!

Hello readers! I wanted to take this opportunity to shout out a group of dope designers. Pretty good friends of mine that have launched a custom tee shirt biz. One of the designers even hooked up a custom shirt for my Libra! LOL!! So check out the site. The address is below . . . it’s some pretty hot *ish. These are my homies so show ‘em some love! That’s all! Peace out!

www.captivecollective.com