Futile and Worthwhile Endeavors

I took one art class in high school. I discovered what I already suspected: I do not have much talent in standard art methods; painting, drawing, etc. But I wanted to have some pretty badly. In fact, I still have an occasional urge to enroll in a community art class. I may still do it, but only when I have time. And I won't have the added motivation for joining that I did in high school (to be near a boy) LOL! I liked boys a lot back then. At least now that I am in a wonderfully solid and fulfilling relationship, all of my hobbies and fly-by-night endeavors are wholly and completely for my own gratification, not in pursuit of a the maler sex. :)

One high note of my artistic wishes is that my daughter has a very strong natural talent with drawing! I'm barely envious! I'm very proud!

Onto my latest endeavor and a renewed one. I'm making jewelry. I was inspired to make my own wedding jewelry by browsing Etsy. I've made some pretty things in addition to a traditional pearl necklace with embellishments! Maybe I'll sell some. I'd love to be able to buy more semi-precious stones rather than glass and plastic. I'd love to be able to buy more gold, silver, and gold-filled items. But maybe down the line. I'm in love with bead stores. I may definitely take a few classes to get my basic skills fine tuned.

My renewed endeavor is crochet. I used to make and sell hats in like '94-'96. It was fun and I at least got my moneys worth! Indeed, at a health food store the other day, a young man asked me if I was still crocheting hats! He remembered me from those days! I have no idea what his name is, but I knew his face. I told him I hadn't sold any in many years, but that I had my crochet bag in the car right now! I love how the universe messages us that we're doing the right thing.

Seeing With Clearer Eyes

The past 7 days have been so very trying! My daughter LOST HER DAMN MIND (another post later, maybe.) My main struggle this past week has been: I learn that my grandmother has passed. A wonderful 95 year long life with plenty of family that can look on her as their reason for existing. It has been 12 long years since I last looked upon her face, though 2 years since I heard her voice. There was no way for me to get across country to attend her memorial services, but I have entertained all my memories in my mind. One great thing that has come of this concentrated remembrance is finally realizing everything I learned from her. Her simple day-to-day doings were the stuff of life; of being a mother and grandmother; of being a woman who has lived a full life and took joy in her children's children. And if I could budget like she did with what she had! I need to start working on that! Amazing.

Despite my own personal struggles with not feeling accepted by those closest to me, as well as my peers, she always accepted me as I was and who I was. This is a great gift for me and it has helped me so much lately. Also, the big lesson with her passing and my not having seen her or had steady communication with her in these last years: Don't let things of the past that pulled you away, keep you away! In the end, most unfortunate events don't matter. I think of her with love, and, finally, deep admiration. I'm so glad I had that last conversation with her, though I didn't know it was such.

I love you Grandma. Neosha M. Banks. 1915-2010

Blurb

Wow.  Reading my previous blogs, I felt like, "dang, am I actually negative?"  I don't think that.  Not at all.  Usually, most of the time the urge to write hits me, it's for a catharsis.  Processing and getting out something that's rattling around in my psyche and mind that needs air and release.  

I'm going to make it a point to write some happy stuff too.  LOL

Aww Dammit! I'm Grown! (another 2.5 year old post)

Wednesday, November 01, 2006 

Aww dammit... I'm Grown... Current mood:  contemplative  Category: Life Damn, every-so-often I contemplate stuff, and realize that I'm grown.  It sure as hell doesn't have anything to do with age. [( cuz I don't intend to ever fully be a clueless adult), and we all know that 40 or 50 year old that still ain't got shit (not talking about material things neetha.)] I see my child about to hit puberty (please give me 2 more years...) I have responsibilities:  My stepson has a disability and will probably need us for the rest of our lives; I have a brilliant child who I have to help guide and shape so that she (hopefully) skip at least 9 tenths of the bullshit I waded through trying to figure shit out; and I want to make more children. Grown. One thing further that lets me know I'm grown.  The crap that happens: crises, beef, misunderstandings, betrayals, etc.  has a much faster turnaround time when it comes to understanding and gaining wisdom from them.  Instead of 5-10 years down the road, I'm experiencing my 20/20 hindsight within a year or sooner.  Sometimes later.  It's great! Losing some of my idealism.  Some of my naievte.  Some of my faith in humanity, and some of my faith in us black folk.  I believe the term is "Jaded."  Even somewhat cynical.  I consider these 'losses' as maturity and living in realism.  And I also accept that reality now can and does change often.  It's a matter of perspective. Yet I am still silly, still love Hip Hop (like a favorite ex-lover - reminiscing about old times... that's another blog.)  I'm still corny as hell and cool as a muthafka.  I may add to this at some point.  I gotta go pick up my man from work right now.  Think I'll pop some Fishbone in the tape deck on the way and rock out - LOUD.  Seriously, a Tape Deck.  "'90 Probe, Bitch!"  (Fishbone album: Give a Monkey a Brain...)

Same Ol' Bullshit!! (2.5 year old post by me)

Saturday, October 28, 2006 

same ol bullshit... Current mood:  awake  Category: Life Thursday, October 19, 2006   I write this before I go to bed so that I can clear my mind and hopefully go to sleep easily.   I am so pissed off.  My child is going through some shit with these petty little girls at her school.  They harass her, seek opportunities to start shit with her, insult and berate her.  And there are a few that befriend her then turn on her at opportune moments, withdrawing their friendship with cruel barbs, vicious laughter and taunts.    And this creates a famine/feast crisis within her.  So starved for friendship and acceptance from her peers that when it seems they have seen the error of their misjudgment of her, that they seem to see her for the nice girl she knows she is, she falls headlong, basking in their false light until the time that they cut her down again, plunging her into turmoil, despair and abject self-pity and doubt.    She tells me with that candor and insight that has always moved me to wonder and admiration at the level of introspection and observation she is capable of:  'Mommy, I don't know why I do this.  They are mean to me and I'm still nice to them.  They act like they are my friend then they are mean again.  And I keep being nice to them.  I know I shouldn't be…'  And more in keeping with her age: 'I don't have any friends!' 'No one likes me!' I have heard these things from her over two years now.    She sees the folly of seeking approval from these cruel children.  And she doesn't have the answer as to why she does it.  Or she can't verbalize it.  Either doesn't know how or doesn't understand.   It causes me so much pain.  I went through the same thing, yet worse on many levels (physical assaults, gang-up confrontations, being ostracized and scoffed at.)    I was (am) smart, pretty, light complexioned, wavy hair, nice.  These were things I simply was.  Simply possessed.  And these were the things I was attacked for.  Of course at 33, I can look back on these experiences with minimal emotional reaction. I see how silly they were.  I can only feel regret that I wasn't stronger at the time. That I "didn't know then what I know now."    And I push on.  I am proud of myself and of the child I created.  I am still healing from that damage during adolescence and the subsequent self-damage from low self-worth.  I am doing well.   I have always been very conscientious of not telling these horror stories to my daughter and truly hope I have avoided imprinting on her my insecurities and weakness in the face of the cruelty of others.  Yet I feel I have failed to a degree because she is exhibiting the same reactions in the face of similar circumstances.  I can only give the source as inherited emotional disposition.  A thing I could not stop, apparently.   She is still stronger than I was.  I made sure to help her be strong in her character. And she is.  Yet these experiences are chipping away at the armor she has not been able to fully don.  And oh how I wish it were ok to knock the crap out of the intimidators and bullies.  It's ok to me; I yearn for her to do it.  And she has the skill set to do it so efficiently that they would Stop.  Period.  But she doesn't want to get into trouble with school.  She loves school and she knows the importance of a clean disciplinary record.  (She is extraordinary!)  And I can't begrudge her for this.  It is said it is more difficult to do the right thing.  And when the right thing causes more harm to my child, then what?   So where is her alternative?  It seems she can only 'take it.'  They drive her to tears. Tease her about her hair.  Her clothes.  Anything they can.  I have been the concerned parent.  Tattling to the appropriate staff that can help her (I hope;) help stem the flow of vitriol coming from individuals.  And it's for naught, though the authorities have followed a good, proactive procedure.  I admire the Life Skills section on bullying and the like.  And she wouldn't speak up to share her past or immediate experiences because of fear of reprisal!  So now what?   These damaged children do what they know.  Damage others.  This, in addition to the primal nature of attempting to cull the 'weak.'  Because they see her as weak:  She won't defend herself to the degree that will cause them to stop.  Their sympathy is overridden by their own poor self-worth and feelings of inadequacy.  These girls (and boys) can't help but be cruel.  Such is one of the curses of being Black in America. Color/Hair complexes, lack of Confidence in Self, etc.   That is my only explanation for this vicious cycle that has lost no momentum since my time.  And we have plenty of history and stories from… well, since!  What do I do?  As a mother, I want to help my child.  To help her be strong.  To put a stop to this NOW.  And I feel especially sad because following proper and proactive procedures have garnered temporary and now fruitless results.  And due to the fault of no one.  These Tries were Attempts, and these Tries are Fails thus far.   God blesses you in your suffering, it is said.  And I know the God blesses you with what you need when you need it, and sometimes what you want as well.  Yet I think this rule becomes understood far to often in retrospective observation.  When the onslaught of projected negative energy is not immediately present.

Steamrolling Spin

It is so distasteful how those with the connections and cojones can seek to destroy another person in order to profit and achieve selfish goals... ah, our litigious society...

 

I can't elaborate until certain things come to pass.  But I can say that a dedicated, exceedingly proficient young woman who does good for her students has been railroaded by manipulated evidence and because of the connections of the complaining parties with the judge and the media person that is running the expose.  

 

Where is her recourse?  Where is the accountability for those who aren't impartial where the law and ethics say they should be?  We don't have money, so we get flung around from the Spin.

 

Is this more of my innocence being carved away

From the Mouths of Babes

It came back to me today on the incredible insight and understanding that my daughter has had since she could speak.  

This one time, when she wasn't more than 7, I picked her up from her afterschool program.  Getting into the car, I dropped into the seat as usual but hit my ear on a metal latch.  Blood started running from my ear onto my top.  I exclaimed "Oh no!  There's blood on my shirt!"  My little girl says "Mommy, your ear is more important than your shirt..."

Just the clarity, simplicity and profoundness in which she would sometimes make statements always blows me away.  

And today, at 12, while she is constantly acting her age (at least she's not acting more than her age, ya'll know what I mean), she is also constantly impressing her social studies teacher with her opinions and her ability to express them.

I'm very proud of her!