“I smelled the stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night.” ~Iceberg Slim, Pimp: The Story of My Life
This morning as I searched for a positive quote for today I stumbled across a man called “Iceberg Slim.” His birth name was Robert Beck. Apparently he took the easy road to securing his financial future by honing the craft of manipulating others and becoming a pimp at the age of 18. From the sounds of things he truly capitalized on using the sexual gifts God gave to women to please their husbands for his selfish purpose.
After being released from a short stint in jail Robert Beck ended his pimping career at the age of 42. One would say, “Good ridden to bad rubbish.” But! No! He didn’t crawl into a hole underneath a rock and disappear from all good society! Instead he became an author and wrote about his exploitation experiences as a pimp.
What makes his career choices gut wrenching for me, as a woman and mother, is how the literary community sought to tell and sell his story. I just gotta ask why publishers and movie makers, especially black movie makers, sought to make money from a story that exploited women? And even though I know the answer, I still find the need to ask such a naïve question in a cynical way.
My heart goes out to the women he exploited. And my prayers are for the family members that lost loved ones that didn’t make it to tell their stories. And my soul cries for the women that were and are affected by his tell all book of “man’s inhumanity to man.”
When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. — Paul The Apostle
My mom Gloria Mae – Photographer: Unknown
When I was a child between the ages of four and eleven I was very envious of my cousins. To me they had the cookie cutter mom and the all American home life.
Their mom stayed home. And since my aunt didn’t work she was able to shower her children with love and guidance. On the other hand, my mom, her sister, was a working woman. My mom worked two jobs and she had little to no time for her children. Therefore, me and my siblings were forsaken the love, understanding, and guidance that came from healthy parenting.
My aunt was a woman that took her role as a mom seriously. Each of her children had swimming lessons one day and was taken to the library the next day. She was a mom that made sure dinner was cooked everyday. She was a mom that afforded her children the luxury to explore the heights of their imaginations. She was the kind of mom that all children wish they had but seldom got or get. And even though she was my aunt and a supermom I being her niece was living in parental poverty.
Parental poverty is a doorway that starves the mind from reaching its full life’s potential. Most times parental poverty emotionally starves children of healthy emotions, as it slowly sends the souls of children into hardship. It cripples children from learning and hampers childhood dreams. It cast shadows over the lives of children and makes them question their existence.
And, sadly, my poor mom never realized the full meaning of being a parent. She never really understood her role as a mom or a single mother. Therefore, she never figured out she was for a temporary moment the captain of her children’s lives. In her efforts to provide for her young she failed to see her children were starving for character building nourishment only a parent could give. And as I grew so did my expectations concerning how my mom should parent me.
I hated my mom for not parenting like her sister. I so desperately wanted to learn how to swim. But my mom’s obligation to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table kept her from fulfilling my wishes. And each time one of my child desires went unmet I began to nurture the love hate emotions I cultivated towards my mom.
I was never easy to get along with. I hated my parents and with the exception of my aunt Pearl and her children I hated the rest of my mom’s family. And most of all I hated being black, therefore, I hated my life. And because my mom lacked experience as a nurturer the demands to shelter and feed became a lethal combination.
My mom had no idea she was killing my spirit when she told others I was retarded. And hearing her unkind words cut deeply. But my will to survive was stronger than the words she expressed to others. My will to succeed was predestined and I knew that!
So when I was a child I made clear to self I was going to be someone special. I was going to give to myself what my mom never gave to me, and rebuild what her mean-spirited words had torn down. I was going to show my mom who was retarded!
My mom and me
My long awaited day of exoneration never came the way I thought. My mom has grown old and is now sickly. I became a parent that also made mistakes. And as my mom’s health continues to decline the thoughts of revenge are replaced with compassion. I no longer seek vindication nor does the thought of it appease my wounded soul. By realizing my mom did the best she could with the understanding she had my broken heart was healed. And in acknowledging her deficiency as my mom her overdrawn parental account is paid in full.
They’re born everyday! They walk among us and they seek who the can destroy. They spiritually feed off misery and the ignorance of others becomes their playground.
Some believe such people come from homes where there is no love and or where hate is taught. But that is not true! Mean-spirited people come from all walks of life. They are born to every race and every gender; and prejudice of any kind makes it harder to discover such people. For example, I learned in the circle I once traveled that all whites were bad, most if not all white men molested children, white people smell, white people have no color, white people are from the devil, and finally “all white people are rich”. And even though I know better now by understanding people are people, there are still people (white, black, blue, purple and brown) that buy into racial nonsense. And that’s the reason I’m blogging about mean people coming from all walks of life. And had it not been for my encounter this past weekend, as a black woman, with a mean-spirited white man I know I would have not come up with such a blog post; because, like I stated, had I not known about the evils of humanity or understood mean-spirited people I could see where the confrontation could have gotten out of control.
The Simple Truth Is
We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. We all have the ability to be bad. We all can become sexually deviant. We all have the capability to smell when we forego bathing. We all have skin pigmentation. We all have the ability to do the devil’s bidding. And not all white people are rich! People are people despite race, creed, religion, gender, and sexual orientation. What make us different spiritually when it comes to our existence are choices. Really, it’s just that simple.
Choices
People chose to be cruel. And sadly they use race, gender, sexual preferences, religion, politics and such to carry out their unkind deeds. They’ve rehearsed role-playing so much in their small minds that they seek the perfect conditions to be spirit exterminators. It’s never hard to figure out their agenda after cavy encounters. They’re usually standing/sitting with smirks of satisfactions on their faces. They are usually braggers that are empty vessels. And they try to fill their emptiness by insulting people publicly or privately as they exercise the power of choice.
Lesson Learned
Never stoop to their level. Recognize mean-spirited people for who they are [empty vessels] and remove yourself from their presence [period].
John Newton is the author of this spiritually enlightenment hymn. At the age of eleven he became a seaman and later was imprisoned. After escaping from those that held him captive he found work on a slave-trading ship. It was then God began to work on his conscience about the cruelties of slavery. And it was then when he wrote this beautiful hymn as a testament to his transformation from being a slave-ship captain to becoming a Christian.
Most often God takes our wrong to right the wrong of man’s inhumanity to man. We’re His wonderful creation with the flaw of cruelty attached to our characters. It is only by God’s amazing grace that saves us from always extending the hand of destruction to our brothers and sisters.
– Prayer –
I pray this day for God’s peace in your life. I ask God to give you His grace. For the Bible says, His grace is enough for you and His power is perfect in your weakness as His grace is new every morning. Have a wonderful day!
Amazing Grace
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.
‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved; How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed!
Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come; ‘Tis grace has brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures; He will my shield and portion be As long as life endures.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years, Bright shining as the sun, We’ve no less dys to sing God’s praise Than when we’d first begun.
Lord, I have read and heard a lot this week. Many of those stories made me feel like I was traveling through a portal of stupidity. Often I found myself asking the following questions: Lord, is my thinking off track? Or are people now enjoying conflict? And why are they enjoying being hoodwinked? What is making them so gullible? And why can’t they see they are being invalidated?
Lord, as I sat in bewilderment over the troubles of the world, I asked, yet, another question, “Where is common sense?” Has it left the world? Has it found a hiding place? Is it sad because humankind no longer has a need for it? Lord, where is common sense? Because as I see things, who would enjoy heartaches, trials and tribulations?
Nothing I read or heard this week made any sense at all except for: “Something that sounds correct could be incorrect.”
— Prayer —
Lord, please bless the world with common sense. For without it mankind will become void in all their ways. So, again, please Lord bless the world with common sense. Amen
I just got back from a five-day camping trip. My family and I decided to join a friend and her family at a local state park. I knew preparing for the mini-vacation would be a chore; since, I have been emotionally and physically tired for years. But a vacation of some sort was a high priority. So, when my friend told me that she and her family was going camping at Boyd Lake State Park, I reserved a camping spot for my family and me to join her and her family.
My friend was too excited to have us come with. She had made plans for us as a group to do this and that. She had made her trailer as the command central. She had even planned several of our meals (without consulting me). Her efforts were those of a true friend but her services were not totally needed. As you can see, my dearest and sweetest friend took it upon herself to make plans for everyone without consulting with anybody. And had the women of both families checked with each other about the trip perhaps hurt feelings could have been avoided.
My friend had failed to see I wanted some me time. I wanted to escape the demands of my demanding life. I wanted to sit and or lay in the comforts of cleanliness. I wanted to enjoy my trailer that has been for years a BIG source of disappointment in some mental capacity. But, nevertheless [sigh], the trailer belongs to me and mine and we love it despite of all the headaches it has given us. And we are always overjoyed to use it when it is not in the shop for months at a time because it was poorly made.
However, with all that was going on mentally, I had very little time to freely think about the direction of my life until now.
I got the below YouTube video from a fellow blogger and I thought I would share the powerful message with you:
Well, Lord, I have finally gotten up from the couch. Mostly because your spirit has urged me to write a pray.
But, Lord, I feel torn about what I should pray. There are so many life situations that need your help. So, again, I feel torn about what I should pray about. However the situation that seems to be heaviest on my heart is the spiritual and cancerous choice of Americans.
The choice to remove you from our country is drowning this wonderful nation in the pool of political correctness; thus, giving birth to spiritual chaos.
We have taken you out of everything! We have taken you out of our governmental institutions, our business, our schools, our churches, our homes, our children, our families and our daily actions. And because we have taken you out of everything we are now experiencing the following: high unemployment, high divorce rates, high rate of children born out-of-wedlock, high rates of child exploitation’s, extreme amounts of mental illness, and people having disregards for life.
Sadly, Lord, as we the American people bicker over small things such as who should or should not get married. Or should the NRA step in and help make stiffer laws for obtaining firearms! Or if a black man is making good or bad choices up on Capitol Hill! Lord, the country that I love is quickly falling into a perilous state.
Lord the catalyst for what is happening in America is our ease in removing you from our lives! It’s not the black man up on Capitol Hill! He’s just one man! It’s not Joe marrying Johnny or Susan marring Sally! And it’s certainly not mandating tougher gun laws! It was removing you!
Lord, the American people need to hear from you! We need to hear from the God that got this American party started. We’re a young nation. And we’re making our fair share of mistakes. But, Lord, the biggest mistake we have made thus far was removing you!
I’m praying for my country. I’m asking you for your mercy upon me and my country. I’m asking you God to show us how to repair our relationship with you. I’m asking you to forgive the arrogance of the American people. I’m praying that you will do a historical roll call in their minds and in their hearts. I’m asking Lord that they remember the blood that was shade for our freedoms; and how you fought along the men that were fighting for all to be freed men and women. I’m asking you to remind them that our ancestors came here to freely worship you. I’m asking you to remind them this country was born from a divine dream and supported and encouraged by spiritual God.
For George Santayana once wrote, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” And in Numbers 14:26-38 people perished and wondered in the wilderness because they had lost faith in you and your abilities to create a new land for a people of promise. Lord, help the country that I love. Heal the heart of this country because America is a land of promise and we are a people of promise.
A young woman told her mother about her life and how things were so hard. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed that as one problem was solved, a new one arose.
Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word.
In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She then pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl.
Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me, what do you see?”
“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.
She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma.
The daughter then asked, “What does it mean, Mother?”
Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity — boiling water — but each reacted differently. The carrot went in
strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. However, the ground coffee beans were unique. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.
“Which are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”
Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?
Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?
Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor of your life. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate to another level?
How do you handle adversity? Are you changed by your surroundings or do you bring life, flavor, to them?
Black Women Have It Going On 