Not Guilty: Another Case of the Wrong Path

As we were riding home and waiting for the jury’s verdict, I happened to glance at my youngest son as he sat in the back seat of the car leaning forward as if he were watching the events unfold through the radio.  His face was full of anticipation. His eyes were intent. His belief in the justice system was untarnished.  My heart was racing and I began to feel queasy.  I took a few deep breaths to try and control the sense of impending disappointment that I have become accustomed to preparing myself for.  In matters such as these, I’ve learned to prepare for the worse…to have no expectations.  It’s a defense mechanism that I’ve worked on for as long as I can remember. 

You see, being a black person in America has been quite a challenge.  While I am a proud American, I have always felt a clear distinction between being American and being African American.  There has always seemed to be two existing paths to everything.  There’s one that is traveled by Americans and another for the journey of the African American.  While both paths can arguably lead to success, the road that I have access to is wrought with obstacles, pitfalls and hidden agendas.  It’s filled with dead ends, detours and setbacks.  It’s dark, uphill, and challenging to navigate. The very design seems downright sinister. Because the other road was developed to help Americans reach their goals, they are able to make it safely to their intended destination without incidence.  This makes it difficult for them to understand the challenges that I face. 

After all, how would they know when they have never been on the path?  I mean really, could I expect that a jury of six made up of at least five Americans would see that Trayvon Martin should have been able to return home safely from the store that fateful night?  Could I really expect them to see that he did not deserve to die?  Could I expect them to see that George Zimmerman had no right to approach him?  Could I expect them to see that George Zimmerman should have followed the advisement of the dispatcher who told him not to follow Trayvon?  Could I really expect them to put themselves in Trayvon’s shoes and think about how they would feel if a stranger were following them?  Could I really expect them to see the value in Trayvon’s life?  Probably not. 

Unfortunately, Trayvon Martin was just another kid on the wrong path and that’s all Americans seem to be able to see.  Oh how I long to travel on the American path.  I stand in front of it often and peer down its open and bright entryway.  Every now and again I find the courage to take a few awkward steps on that road.  Americans notice me immediately and redirect me to my own familiar path.  That’s what happened tonight.  Tonight the “Not Guilty” verdict ripped the innocence from my youngest son’s eyes while simultaneously proving that the blindfold on lady justice’s eyes has slipped just beneath them.  The small glimmer of hope that I could gain access to the American path was gone in an instant.  I felt a sense of defeat, a bit of anger, a smidgeon of disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment.  All are reminders of the journey that I must endure as an African American.  Rest in peace Trayvon.

There's a Hole in the Sidewalk..Can You See It?

I stumbled across this piece several years ago and have found it to be instrumental in self-reflection.  It is applicable to many aspects of our lives and helps us to think about the decisions and choices we make each day.  Take a few minutes to carefully read each "chapter" and then answer this question:  What chapter am I in?

An Autobiography in 5 Short Chapters, by Portia Nelson

Chapter I: I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn’t my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.



Chapter II: I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I am in the same place, but it isn’t my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.


Chapter III: I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. It’s a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.


Chapter IV: I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.


Chapter V: I walk down a different street.”

                                                                                                             — Portia Nelson

What Makes You Happy???

The other day I realized that making other people happy is the thing that makes me happy. Oddly, the realization made me sad. Of course I find happiness in many things, but nothing beats doing something to make someone else happy. When I’m spending quality time with my husband, I can’t help but think about my son at home. When I’m spending time with my husband and my younger son, I can’t help but wish my older son was with us. When I’m vacationing, I wish my mom and my sister were with me. When I cook something, I give the best looking part to others. When I’m enjoying lunch with friends, I save some for my kids. When I finish a meal at a restaurant, I habitually stack all of the plates, cups, silverware, and napkins, to make things a little easier for the busser or waiter. When I’m shopping, I find myself hanging clothes up that others tossed on the floor (I used to work at Marshall’s Department Store when I was 16). When I’m relaxing, my mind wanders off to thoughts of all of the things I could be doing. When hosting a party, I need to make sure that everyone else is having a good time. When attending a party, I’ve got to help the host…after all, I totally understand what it’s like to organize and tidy up to avoid chaos. I can go on for hours, but I trust that you get the point.


The next thing that I did was to think about things that made me happy that had nothing to do with others. It was such a struggle for me but here’s what I came up with: I love listening to music—all genres, just really good music. I like reading good books. I love eating at good restaurants—I LOVE good food. I enjoy days that I don’t have an itinerary—sometimes it’s good to have nothing to do. I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I like watching HGTV and OWN. I like bubble baths, manicures, pedicures, and massages. I like to sleep on freshly laundered sheets. I like to shop and browse for hours, and I love to laugh.

While random acts of kindness and taking care of those I love will always be a part of my happiness, I have decided that I will spend a little more time making me happy. After all, I’m pretty good at this “happy” thing.

I challenge you to do the same.

Today the World Ended

According to the Mayan calendar, the world is set to end next Friday.  I have heard quite a few jokes regarding the same.  Well, for those who lost loved ones in the tragic shooting spree at Sandy Hook elementary school today, it must seem like the world ended a week sooner.

This morning I started my day in the usual way.  I woke my son up for school, kissed him on the forehead, and gave him ten minutes to lay in our bed with us—smack dab in the middle; that’s his favorite spot.  After ten minutes of cuddling, I got him out of bed and assumed my new role as drill sergeant.  As part of the routine I gave him instructions to help ensure that he would be ready to catch the bus.  These instructions also included tasks that should have been completed the night before, but as usual, they were not completed in a satisfactory manner.  As the morning proceeded, I checked to see where he was in the process and pointed out tasks that were yet to be completed.  I provided updates on the time about every ten minutes or so.  After each time update, it was apparent that once again he was not on schedule to make the bus.  The verbal prompts became more urgent and my frustration more apparent.  My son does not know how to move faster; he operates at the same pace despite the time crunch we are in.  It. Is. Extremely. Annoying.  At this point, I begin to do the necessary things to get him out on time.  “Get your lunch box!”  “Take the lotion in the car…the back of your leg is still dry!”  “Let’s go…we have to leave right now!”  “If you miss this bus you are not playing that game this weekend!”  “Where’s your sweater?  Yes, you need it!  Go back and get it!”  “Hurry up!  What’s taking you so long to get in the car!?”  “You are nine years old…this is ridiculous!”  “You have got to do better than this.  I am tired of telling you the same things over and over again!”  “There’s the bus.  Hurry up.  OK, have a nice day…I love you.” “Hey!!  You forgot your sweater…here.”  I watched him get on the bus, waited until I saw his silhouette as he took his seat on the bus, then I pulled off…mentally exhausted.   

I cannot imagine what it must be like to receive a telephone call or message advising of a shooting your child’s school.  It is completely unfathomable to understand how it must feel to learn that your child has been murdered while at school.  The thought of the sheer terror that those children experienced is heart wrenching.  When I put myself in the position of the parent’s of those innocent children, I can’t help but to become emotional.  How do you reconcile such a loss?  How do you make it through the day?  How do you breathe?  How do you identify your deceased child who you sent to school earlier?  How do you go home and see all of the things that made your house their home?  How do you make sense of something so senseless?  I wish that I had the answers, but I don’t. 
Today the world ended for those who lost their lives in this tragedy.  Many of their loved ones must feel as though a part of them died too.  Many of us feel helpless and only wish there were something that we could do to help ease their pain.  Would tougher gun laws, or locked school campuses have prevented this act of unspeakable violence?  Perhaps, but we can't be sure.  

What we can do is realize that so many things that we think are important, really aren’t. We can stop taking things for granted. Tomorrow may not come for some of us or for those we love, so we have to make every second of every day count. We can stop postponing living by waiting until next week, or next month, or next year to do the things that we can do for, and with those we love, today. We can ask ourselves the question "If I knew that a loved one would no longer be here next week, what would I do differently?"  I know I plan to be a little bit more patient on Monday morning. One more hug and one less demand.

The Mayans were a week off in their prediction, because today, the world ended.

                                                                                                                        Written 12/14/12

There was no Calm Before the Storm

As news and personal accounts of the impact and aftermath of Hurricane Sandy continues to come in, I find myself feeling awkward. It’s a feeling that can best be explained with the example of a person who narrowly escapes injury or death and walks out of a situation that others were unable to avoid. Please understand, in no way are my feeling equivalent to such a plight, it is however, the best way I can describe it. You see, I am a product of Far Rockaway, Queens. I know the beauty of the beaches, I rode my bicycle up and down the boardwalk as a kid. I rode the A train, the Q 22, the dollar van, and used the Q footy footy to get around town and out of town (although, we didn’t leave Far Rockaway much back then…everything we needed was there—at least we thought so). I went to P.S. 105 back when it was known as “The Bay School”, traveled to the opposite end of the town to attend P.S. 114 in Belle Harbor and junior high school 180 in Rockaway Beach, and made a u-turn to attend Far Rockaway high school smack dab in the middle of Far Rockaway, NY. I lived in public housing in what some considered one of the worst housing projects in the New York City—Edgemere Houses. Some years back, the name was changed to Ocean Bay Houses, but it will always be Edgemere to me.
When I think of growing up there, I remember a sense of community. The tenant patrol was the watch group of concerned citizens who wanted to keep the neighborhood safe. As a teen ager, I thought they were a bunch of nosey old people. Now I know better. I recall having friends who lived on nearly every floor in my building. They were like family. There was no need to go out of the building to meet people, but we did. We walked up and down the blocks to see our friends from other buildings too. We all knew each other and could spot an outsider in a heartbeat. We played hop scotch with a piece of broken glass or a rock. We played skelly with candle wax or gum pressed into a milk top. We played hand ball on the wall underneath the buildings. We played “Red light, green light” and “Mother may I?” We played tag, red rover, kick the can, spin the bottle…oh I could go on forever!
There was however, an ugly side to life there. Gun violence claimed the lives of friends and acquaintances on a regular basis. People went to Rikers Island jail so often that it became a rites of passage for many young boys. It was not uncommon to answer the public telephone on the corner of 54th Street and talk with someone incarcerated who used the telephone number of the pay phone as a life line to the community. Poverty ran rampant in my old neighborhood. So much so, we didn’t even realize that we were poor. Making the most of what you had was normal. Sharing a cup of sugar, two eggs, or $5 until next week, was a regular thing. We looked out for each other. We knew how to handle adversity because it was an everyday thing.

For as long as I can remember, there was always talk of the bay and the ocean meeting and causing devastation. I’d heard it so often that it didn’t scare me at all. But then again, neither did the gun violence, robberies, drug dealing, or regular police activity. It was all a part of life in my neighborhood.
As the years passed, I was exposed to life outside of my neighborhood. The experiences opened my eyes to a brighter future and I stepped into the light. I got out before the storm. Lots of people did. However, there are those who didn’t see it coming. They were unprepared or under-prepared. They were blinded by the winds of reality. Some fell victim to low expectations and statistics. Some were overcome by a sense of hopelessness. Some made a conscious decision to stay. The awkward feeling comes in when I realize that many are in complete darkness trying to find their way, and struggling to survive the chaos, while I am doing just fine. You see, the trouble didn’t begin when the bay met the ocean; there has always been a black cloud over my old neighborhood. We just didn’t notice it, because it was always there. When you’ve lived in a tumultuous environment for your entire life, you’d never imagine that a little storm could be a problem.

I am certain that those remaining in my old neck of the woods will come out of this bruised and battered…but better. They’ve always had the skills to overcome adversity…we learned them through our lives filled with challenge and struggle. It is my hope that this experience has changed the definition of “normal”. The notion of the bay and ocean meeting is no longer just an old wives tale. It’s a reality. Hopefully, people will begin to rebuild not only their homes, but their lives. There is light just beyond the darkness, but leaving the familiar is a personal choice. Those who choose to stay must prepare for the storm while there is calm because one thing we know now is, it’s coming.

A Good Day for a Resolution

Psst. Psst. Hey…hey you. We are approaching the last quarter of the year and I just want to know how well you did with your resolutions. Did you make any at the start of the year? In an effort to avoid the commercialism, did you make your resolutions before the year began or a month or two into 2012? Did you abandon the term “resolution” and simply challenge yourself to do better? Did you decide that this would be the year that you wouldn’t broadcast your resolution, opting instead to wait for others to notice your achievement? Perhaps you didn’t even make any personal self improvement commitments at all, but somehow knew that you should have. Either way, I just wanted to point out the fact that even though it seems like we just celebrated the New Year, its September. Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day are in the history books, and that’s no April Fools prank. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day have come and gone, as have the 4th of July and Labor Day. Halloween is just around the corner and many of you have yet to accomplish the goal that you set. That’s pretty scary.


No, no, no…don’t start feeling down though; it’s not the end of the world. Now is the perfect time for evaluation. It’s important to evaluate your goals periodically. When you recognize what is working it encourages you to continue. When you identify what isn’t working, it doesn’t mean you’ve failed, it simply means that you need to make some adjustments to your strategy—and sometimes, it means you have to revise your goal. Finding the courage to try again is just as noteworthy as finding the courage to begin. So whether you fell off the wagon or never even got on, I challenge you to make a commitment to improve some aspect of your life today. Don’t wait for the perfect time, because there isn’t one. You’ve just got to decide that you are worth the commitment and do it! I can’t think of a better day than today. Happy Monday! Cheers!

You Can Have It (if you really want it)

Have you ever wanted something so badly, but couldn't have it? Ahh, I see the wheels turning...you're thinking about it. I'm guessing that you may be a little hesitant to fully commit to answering, because of the fear that it might be a "trick question". Go ahead...answer it. No one will know except you. OK, if you answered "NO", start over from the beginning, and this time, be honest. If you answered "Yes", welcome to the club. You are not alone. If we're honest, we've all had something that we felt was beyond our reach and decided that we couldn't have it. Once the decision is made and we have accepted it as fact, we move in another direction. Sometimes the whole idea is dismissed. We let it die because it's just easier that way. Some of us return to the burial site of that thing we wanted so badly and lament. All the while convincing ourselves that there was no way for us to have what we wanted.
I know, I know—there really was no way that you could have had that thing. No one understands just how hard you tried. No one has walked in your shoes. It just doesn't happen that way. It's beyond your control. The timing just wasn't right. If you knew then, what you know now... yada, yada, yada. Yeah, been there, done that—sucked on that pacifier, but it only keeps you going for a little while. In most cases, these are phrases that make up the elaborate smoke screen that hides our truths. Some of us are afraid of failure, afraid of losing, afraid of rejection, or afraid of being vulnerable. Some of us are deterred by the obstacles, overwhelmed by the enormous amount of work, effort, or time required and still others are held captive by negative thoughts and self-doubt. Sadly, the smokescreen gives us permission to quit before we even start.

Motivational speaker Tony Robbins said “The only thing keeping you from what you want is your story about why you can’t have it”. What’s your story?
If you were granted a reasonable amount of time to acquire that thing, and also given the caveat that if you did not acquire it by that time, you would die, what would you do differently? If it were a matter of life and death, how would you alter your approach? Would your sense of urgency increase? Would you ask for help? Would you ask a second time even if the person who could help you didn’t respond the first time? How would you manage your time differently? Would finding the time in a day to work on accomplishing the goal become a priority? Would you try harder? Would you keep working even though you couldn’t see results? Would you hope? Would you believe? Would you be worth it then?

You’re worth it now. Stop making excuses and start making a way. Work as if your life depends on it, for it is then that success will be inevitable.