From "Fight the Power" to "Flavor of Love"?

[Originally posted in October]
Since the month of October celebrates the 40th anniversary of the Black Panther Party, I put a photo of my shero, Kathleen Cleaver (Eldridge Cleaver's former wife and the Communication Secretary of the Pather Party) on my page and I played Public Enemy's "Fight the Power." I think later that night, an episode of Flavor of Love came on T.V. and it got me thinkin'. . .

How the hell did Flava Flav go from being a member of the most revolutionary hip hop groups in history to starring in one of the most sensationalistic, offensive, exploitative, misogynistic, television shows on contemporary television? I mean, true enough, even when he was in Public Enemy he was still kind of the minstrel of that group with the outlandish outfits, the clock around his neck and the whole thing, but how can you go from one end of the spectrum to the other? How can you preach about black power and fighting for black rights and then star on that God-awful show with Brigit Nielsen where he decided that he loved her after she slapped the shit out of him? And on Flavor of Love, it's really about how much ass he can get from these women. He plays himself-- showing himself to be a completely illiterate, inarticulate jackass, using words like "romantical" and "habitatural" [these quotes are borrowed from a recent Essence article by another young black woman who is also offended by the former self-proclaimed "hip-hop intellectual" who treats women like trash and who can barely form a complete sentence]. Chuck D still raps, does radio talk shows, and lectures around the country yet this is what has become of the hypeman of Public Enemy?

Needless to say, I felt compelled to change the music on my page. I still love Public Enemy and "Fight the Power" is still a classic, but it just didn't sit well with me considering I was using the song to honor true Revolutionaries.

"Yo baby, can't you see that's nonsense you watchin'? Look, don't
nobody look like that, nobody even live that, you know what I'm sayin'? You watchin' garbage, nothin' but garbage. Straight up garbage. Yo, why don't you just back up from the TV, read a book or something. Read about yourself, learn your culture, you know what I'm sayin'?"

-Flavor Flav on Public Enemy's "She Watch Channel Zero" (1988)

Black Girls: Is Our Hair Our Religion?

[Originally written Oct. 9th, 2006-- The day before I loc'd my hair]

Okay, many of you who know me know I'm obsessed with my hair. I admit it. However, my obsession stems from other people's reaction to my hair rather than any sort of love for it myself. In reality, I don't really like my hair. It's not "black" enough, it's kinda thin, and it's too blond. However, my whole life, people have obsessed about my hair, making my hair part of my identity. When I was young, people used to comment on the little tanned girl with the long blond wild hair. My white grandma used to threaten to cut it off because it was too "frizzy" to comb. My black folks used to say it was soooo pretty because it was long, soft and considered "good" hair. When I was a young teenager, I always kept it pressed out because I wanted it to look like the other black girls hair. But it never did. Girls would hate on me for my hair; boys would love me for it. --> -->

As I got older and started going to the salon to get my hair done, I would feel uncomfortable as black women sitting under the hair dryers would stare at me as my hair dresser would style my light colored locks. I could feel myself shrinking down in the chair as I felt all eyes were on me. I would think to myself, "What are they looking at? What are they thinking?" Was it hate? Was it envy? Was it simply the sight of something different? I'm sure it was a little bit of everything but I didn't like it. I wished that one time I could walk into the salon like any other black girl and get her hair done without the all the looks, stares, or comments when my hair was done—like "Okay, Ms. Mariah Carey!" "Work it out Blue Cantrell!" "You look just like Nicole Richie!" or whatever other light skinned girl was popular at the time. I never looked like any of 'em but the point was that once the hair was laid out, I apparently looked like everyone's favorite mixed girl.

Now true enough, my hair has a certain versatility and I have been known to wear it many different ways—natural curls, pressed out, braided, twisted—you name it, I've done it. But it seems like the more I try and embrace my hair, the more people want to get involved. I'm sure some of my Packard sisters (Packard—Um PHI!) remember several confrontations freshman year when dudes felt the need to reach out and grab a handful of hair. (Everyone knows not to touch a black woman's hair without permission) Yes, I almost beat some ass over my hair. At Freaknic '97 I nearly got my ass beat cause some dude was trippin' and wouldn't leave me or my hair alone. Shit, less than a year ago, I backed a dude down into a corner, cursing him out for walking by me and pulling my hair in a club. He said he just had to see if it was real. Out of control!
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I say all of this because tomorrow morning I am locing my hair. Say what you will but I have been considering dread locs for about two years. I am not one for commitment (read that any way you want) so I had to make sure this is really what I want. When I told people about my decision, people's reactions were mixed. I expected that. Most folks told me I was crazy. People were like, "But your hair is your thing!" I'm like, "No, my hair is YOUR thing." But in reality this is a huge step. My hair is kinda my thing BECAUSE it is everyone else's obsession. For the most part, my friends with locs support me. Most of my girlfriends with perms don't understand me. The reality is, I've been a dread locked sista for a long time—just without the locs. I am a deeply spiritual woman who believes that The Almighty is omnipresent and in everything that I am and everything that I do. I have a revolutionary Panther-esque spirit and I am all the way down for my people. I am an educator seeking to teach the next generation about the strength, courage, and wisdom of our ancestors. Locs are simply an extension of my inner self—getting in touch with my roots (literally and figuratively). I also feel that by locking my hair, I will finally be able to disassociate myself from some of the artificial bullshit folks get wrapped up in. When my hair is pressed out straight, I seem to attract a lot more attention from men. I am always skeptical of this attention because I don't know if men are interested in me for me or because they were initially attracted to my hair. Sometimes men will come right out and tell me they like my hair or my light eyes or they may go as far as to tell me how we would have "pretty [read: light-skinned] babies." Nothing is a greater turn off to me. I am an accomplished woman with an eye toward the future. If the most attractive thing about me is my mixed-girl "breeding" qualities, you need to keep steppin'.

Hair is so critical to black women and it really is like our religion. I'm not saying we don't love the Lord, but we love our hair too! Hair issues are always present and they really do help shape who we are and who we become. It is time for me to shed my past, my hair insecurities, my security blanket of sorts and get in touch with my deepest, truest self.

--> --> That is the most beautiful thing of all.

A Good Man is Hard to Find

So I'm getting older. We all are-- it's undeniable. And I guess with age comes responsibility and the desire to settle down and do the grown up thang-- find a partner, start a family, have a successful career-- ya know, the whole thing. I am over the whole dating thing and I am getting serious about my relationships (I can't even believe I am saying this but it's true. For those of you who knew me back in the day, you are probably laughing right now).

Now I have been told repeatedly that my standards for marriage and partnership are too high. Of course the people most often telling me this are men with whom I have ended relationships (go figure. It just that YOU weren't the "one," dude). Actually I think my outlook on relationships is pretty simple and I think what I am looking for in a partner and in a partnership is uncomplicated. Now, I am not saying that my standards aren't high-- they are-- but they definitely aren't too high or unreasonable. I AM looking for that ultimate partnership-- true enough-- but why is that wrong? I am looking to have a strong and beautiful black family and I will not settle for a substandard relationship simply to avoid being alone. That is just setting myself up for failure. My standards have nothing to do with the kind of car you drive or the kind of clothes you wear, but the kind of person you are and the kind of connection we have together. Isn't that the way it should be?

Let me put it down in no uncertain terms:

I am looking for the kind of man who respects me and respects what we have built together. He values education, his community, his family, and above all the Creator. He can rap about politics, current world events, and still talk about Talib Kweli or The Roots' last album. I like a man with a bit of a swagger but he shouldn't be conceited. When he is at work, he is a professional, but he can still drink, chill, and burn it down on the weekends with me. He has various interests or hobbies and wants to share those experiences with me (I am tired of men who just play video games and watch t.v.). What makes life interesting is sharing knowlege-- put me onto something new! I have my own interests too-- we can enrich one another's lives. He cares deeply about social and political causes affecting the black community and does his part to make this world a better place-- there is nothing sexier than a man who can take his tie off and get down on a grassroots level to help the people. He wants to travel the world with me-- even if we can't afford to do it right now, we can sit and dream about it together. He is someone who I want to spend real time with-- not just out on the town on a Friday night but on a low-key "Blockbuster" night. He makes me laugh--laughter is important because life has it's ups and downs and sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying. We need to be able to entertain one another into our old age. He knows my personal family history and knows I have issues trusting men-- he loves me and is patient with me anyway. He believes in an all encompassing God-- a God that accepts people of all faiths seeking a Higher Power. Eventually when we get to "that" level, our relationship should come second only to his relationship with the Most High. He honors me-- even when I'm not around or when he is with his boys. He is affectionate toward me and he makes the occasional romantic gesture to keep the spark alive and to remind me why we fell in love. He makes an effort to compliment me and make me feel important, loved, and feel like I am the sexiest woman in the world! When we start a family he should take an active role as a father-- show his children what it means to be a strong black man, a loving husband, and a role model. Sometimes a man has to sacrifice opportunities at work to make time for our relationship or (in the future) for our family.

Now, that may seem like a lot, but it is really a lot of detail about basic characteristics. My standards are high, but not unrealistic. I have been in enough relationships in my life to know what I want. Also, I am a good woman so I don't think it is unreasonable to demand a good man.

I am an independent woman-- I can think for myself, I live by myself, I pay my own bills. I don't need a man to support me financially. I want someone to share my life with, which means mutual support-- emotionally, financially, spiritually, and physically. I am a Cancer woman which does mean that I can be emotional and (overly) sensitive at times, but it also means that I am nurturing. I believe in supporting my brothas in all their endeavors. Too many black men and women face daily discrimination and hardships at work and in society-- when we come home we should feel supported and loved by our partners. One of the beautiful things about being a woman is that we have that female, spiritual power-- that ability to strengthen ourselves and heal our parters and our families with our kisses, our soothing touch, and our uplifting words of encouragement. There is also that physical aspect to nurturing-- did I mention I can cook? (Low key, I can burn!) There ain't nothing wrong with making Sunday breakfast after we sleep late, chill out, and read the paper in bed. Maybe we can go for a bike ride afterward and work off all that food or find some other way to get our sweat on. . . . hmmm. . . . (I can burn in the bedroom too but that is only for my man to know about!).

Alright, alright, I could go on forever, but basically, relationships are all about love, sacrifice, balance, reciprocity, openness, friendship, communication, and a little thoughtfulness and romance.

Is that really too much to ask for? If not, then why is it so hard to find? Damn!

Post Script: I first wrote this blog and posted it to my myspace back in August '06. Since posting this blog, I found the man who "fit the description"-- I guess I failed to address the potential problems with meeting Mr. Right. Sometimes, timing is everything. He acknowleges that we are "kindred spirits" (his words) but he wasn't ready for the responsibility and intensity of the relationship. He saw the potential for something deep and real and he turned and "ran like a coward" (also his words). Our meeting came at a time where he was getting ready to move to a new state and take a new job and he wouldn't allow any personal feelings between us to influence his career decisions. Sometimes Mr. Right can be Mr. Wrong if he comes along at the wrong time. This was a very hard lesson and I am currently revamping my opinions about what I am looking for in a potential partner. As long as I am single, I'm sure the blogs regarding relationships will continue to come. . .