The Long Wreck According to Dollar

wreck noun \ˈrek\ n.

Mega Church Preacher Creflo Dollar admonished the members of New Birth Missionary Baptist Church. Seems that Dollar felt that Bishop Long’s church members were being judgmental, not Christian-like and unsupportive when some of them left the church following Long’s undisclosed settlement to the four young men who accused him of sexual coercion.An indepth look at the multiple meanings of the word “wreck” shows that Dollar’s analogy, if not his reasoning, is on point. This was a wreck.

In defense of his friend, Dollar made it seem like Long’s “wreck” was something that people could easily move past. But according to Webster’s Dictionary, a wreck is more than just the fender bender that Dollar alluded to in his recent Sunday sermon.

1: the action of wrecking or fact or state of being wrecked : DESTRUCTION c: a violent and destructive crash

A wreck implies that there was damage, injuries, maybe even fatalities. There is no such thing as a no-fault accident—something caused the collision. And in the world of insurance someone’s going to pay. In this case, Long voluntarily paid for the damages done. Dollar went on to say that Long’s premiums had been paid by the blood of Jesus. Does Dollar have a direct line to Jesus? Was he in on the three-way when Jesus told Bishop, “Don’t worry, I got you.” Often times in an accident, premiums go up. Did Jesus raise Long’s premiums or cancel his insurance? Were the vehicles involved totaled?

2: the broken remains of something wrecked or otherwise ruined c: something disabled or in a state of ruin or dilapidation ;

Dollar accused the parishioners of abandoning their preacher in his time of need. But maybe they thought their spiritual leader was a reckless driver. Perhaps the images of the mangled minds and bodies of the men in the wreck kept them up at night. Did they see the gaping holes in the young men’s souls and decide not to return to New Birth?

3: a person or animal of broken constitution, health, or spirits

An out of court settlement cannot fix what was broken; bring back what was taken. Dollar is right in his assertion that a wreck doesn't mean the end of the world. It is possible to come back after a wreck. So, in this case, let’s pray that Long and his accusers are on the road to recovery.

The Price Of Living

$60.11. I stood there staring at the numbers willing them to change. Then I blinked. Nothing happened. $60.11. That’s what it cost me to fill up my 2 door, dull black, in-need-of-antifreeze Honda Accord 2002 Special Edition.
I had seen the prices and had done my fare share of SMH, but the reality of the gas hike hadn’t hit me because I rarely fill up my tank. When I see my car getting low on gas I put in 10 gallons or $40.00 –which ever registers first. But the other day, the gas light was on and I decided to fill up. To say that I was shocked is an understatement.

Because I earn a decent wage and have a manageable amount of debt, I can afford to put gas in my car. But this trip to the gas station cruelly reminded me of our country’s economic downfall and the fragility of my place in the work world. Teaching was always considered a “safe” profession, but with budget deficits looming large, teachers are being let go without the safety net of yester year.
That’s happened to me last year. I went to work on Monday and was out of work by Wednesday of the second week of June with benefits lasting through the end of the month. I took a position that was guaranteed for a year, and now I’m once again looking for employment. For the second time in my 18 years with the Board of Education, I’m teaching summer school—buying time until principals get their budget in July.

If nothing else, the reality check of my $60.11 trip to the gas station will force me to be more resourceful. I’ll put some air in my bike tires and ride my bike if I’m not traveling far. I can ride to the barber shop or the health club. I was a latent driver so I spent a lot of time on buses and trains so, I know that Chicago has an excellent public transportation system that I can utilize. A friend of mine is 50+ years old, doesn’t drive but manages to get anywhere she needs to go via public transportation. And last but not least, I bought a new HD flat screen, got Cable (finally!) I also have a great backyard, so I can create some wonderful stay-cations this year. I might not be able to beat the high cost of gas, but I can improvise.

Dirty Ghetto Kids - Part 2

I recently ran across this photo of slave children while perusing articles on the internet. The article claims that it is a 150-year-old photo found in a moving sale in Charlotte, North Carolina. One of the two boys is identified as John while the other child’s identify remains unknown. Along with the photo was a document detailing the sale of John for $1,150.

After reading the article, I looked long and hard at their dark chocolate, somber faces, their torn and tattered clothes, the slump in their shoulders and shook my head. What’s distressing about the photo is these children from the 1800s don’t look much different from the children I encounter every day in the 21st century.

As I stared at these “dirty ghetto kids” from back in the day, I wondered how they’d feel about the DGK brand of modern day?

Dirty Ghetto Kids

I've fought for as long as I could. But it's over now. I have to accept the fact that I am comfortably couched in middle age where I feel the chasm between me and young people widening to the point that I have become one of the adults of my childhood who just didn't get the young folk of my day. A trip to the mall has me SMH and asking WTH is really going on in the world today.

The other day I was doing something out of character: walking through the mall. Contrary, to popular belief, I am not a woman who loves to shop, but I needed to pick up a couple of items and was in no hurry as I strolled through Chicago Ridge Mall when I happened upon a store called Zumez. In the window was a mannequin wearing a white, girl's t-shirt with red "Dirty Ghetto Kids" lettering. I stood there stuck in the moment as all-kinds-of-ways it was wrong smacked me all upside my head. I walked away. But I came back. I had to find out about the shirt.

A white young man in an over-sized red t-shirt, jeans and a baseball cap turned sideways explained to me that the shirt was part of DGK line. He enthusiastically shared with me his love for DGK and how many DGK shirts he owned. Discomfort must have registered on my face because he said, "You don't like DGK?" I shook my head. He said the girls didn't like the shirt either but he'd like to see all girls in DGK. I nodded not knowing what to say and I left.

DGK is a line of skate boards and apparel founded by Stevie Williams, an African-American professional skateboarder who pays "homage to his Philly days when he and his skate crew would be taunted at skate spots throughout the city. . ." An unsubstantiated online story is that when a skater did a trick on his board and lost it, the "dirty ghetto kids" would run off with the board. Even if the story isn't true,I can't embrace "dirty ghetto kids" as positive.

In my work as an educator I am bothered by the number of children who show up to school dirty every day--matted, uncombed, broken-off hair; shoes with no strings and no socks; clothes so dingy it's hard to tell what the original color was; lunch stains from Monday's lunch and it's Thursday. These children look bad, smell bad and become fodder for conversation among faculty and students.

These "dirty ghetto kids" remind me of our short coming as a nation; that we continue to fail certain segments of our population and write them off as worthless. So, now we have a black man exploiting a marginalized segment of the population for financial gain by hocking his wares to skateboarders, many of whom are white and think it's cool to wear DGK.

Is something wrong with this picture or am I old, out of touch and just a wee bit sensitive?

Why You Should See Jumping the Broom

While casting my vote for the cutest kid contest on WGCI, I saw an advertisement for the new movie Jumping the Broom and an opportunity to win tickets to an advanced screening. I’m not one of those lucky people who seem to win things, but my luck changed and I won a pass for two to see Jumping the Broom, a romantic comedy about two families from opposite sides of the economic divide that come together for a weekend wedding on Martha’s Vineyard. For all my Roger Ebert-like readers, it’s not a film for critical analysis; this one is for pure enjoyment.

No complex characters, no multiple layers to peel back; it is typical boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy and girl reunite for the happily-ever-after-ending that fairy tales are made of. I loved it because I needed it.

Here are five reasons why you should skip on over to your nearest movie theater and see it this weekend.

1. With so much drama, trauma and just plain old bad things going on in the world, for an hour and 53 minutes you can kick back, relax and enjoy. It’s a feel good movie.

2. In a world gone mad, stripped of too much of its goodness and goodwill toward mankind, this is a morality tale when far too many of us are filing for moral bankruptcy. Who can’t use a moral deposit now and then?

3. It’s not a Tyler Perry movie. Enough said.

4. It’s a depiction of the power of love coming on the heels of another fairytale wedding. That one was real, this one’s not, but hey - we can pretend. Yes, the ending is predictable. But who isn’t a sucker for a sappy, happy ending? If you’re not, you need to go back and re- read reasons 1 and 2.

5. For my fellow African-Americans, we have been whining in public and private about the destructive images of black people, and some of us have bought into the hype and fueled the fire about our lack of love as men and women. Disarm yourselves and bask in the glory of the beauty of black love.

See you at the theater!

The Trouble with My and Mine - Part 2

My man, My woman, My husband, My wife. Proclamations of ownership are scary because people are not possessions even though we often times think in those terms. My and Mine - two small words that cause BIG drama.

We mistakenly believe that when get intimately involved with people and/or marry them, that they come with a bill of sales stamped paid in full. We think we own them. But the truth is we do not. We cannot claim ownership over another human being; we can only acknowledge the relationship that we share. And we have to be true to ourselves in that acknowledgment. People have been hurt and killed because of their desire to own the actions of another because we think He or She is Mine.
The tragic story of Rhoni Reuter, the girlfriend of former Bears Shaun Gayle who was pregnant with his child and was killed by Marni Yang,a woman who thought that Sayers was Hers and she didn't want to share. So, she eliminated her coompetition.

When we're invloved with someone, and we find that they're spreading themselves around, there are only two things we can do: accept it or not accept it. We can't act like dogs and start pissing around the hydrant to mark our territory. I can't count how many times I've watched this drama unfold with ugly consequences and it never stops the partner from stepping out.

People are who they are. Dating or marrying them doesn't change that. If the person wasn't monogamus when you were dating, he or she is not going to miracously change during marriage. The question you have to ask is Am I going to stay or move on? People do not belong to us. We cannot control their actions, only our response to it.

I want to date and be in a relationship, but I don't want to be claimed like a possession: the man who says I'm His woman; the man who says that he can't live without me, or the man who thinks if he can't have me no one else can. I've always said don't love me to death; love me to life.

Every relationship has its challenges, but if we need to shift our personal pronoun paradigm so we can make our relationships work.

The Trouble with My and Mine

The tragedy of Lashanda Armstrong clings to me like rain-drenched clothes on a blistery day; no matter what I do I can't shake the chill that it gives me when I think about it. Lasahanda along with three of children 5,2 and 11 months of age drowned. The 10-year old managed to roll down the window and escape. We shake our heads and wonder how could a mother drive her minivan carrying her four children into an icy body of water?

It seems like an unspeakable horror to intentionally harm children, but I'm beginning to wonder how many of us have a little of Lashanda in us because for far too many of us, people are possessions--things we think we own like our homes, our cars etc. We're quick to claim my and mine reminding me of the self-indulgent immature nature of a child who becomes obsessed with something she thinks is hers.

Back in the day, we chuckled at the absurdity of our parents words: "I brought you into this world and I'll take you out," because we never thought that our parents would actually kill us. And maybe back then our parents spoke out of frustration and/or fear, but today with our country's economic instability and people's stress levels at all-time highs, there are far too many parents that take these words to heart.

The Lashanda Armstrong case is not an isolated news story. There seems to be a disturbing trend of parents killing children before killing themselves,and in the case of married couples killing their spouses as well. Lashanda had been arguing with the three younger children's father on that fated day. Why didn't she leave the children with Their father?

Even in death the problems of My and Mine continued when the children's father, Jean Pierre decided against Lashanda's family wishes to bury His children with Their mother. Tension was thick as the relatives of Lashanda felt that were not welcome at the children's funeral.

So, often in custody battles that I've witnessed I often hear parents argue about MY children who belong to ME because they are MINE. There's no longer a thought of what WE should do in the best interest of OUR children. Even when they're not fighting, parents are possessive, and it's not healthy.

The words of Khalil Gibran captures the essence of parenthood.And if parents take these words to heart, there will be no room for My and Mine.


Children

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.'

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.