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.

The Future Awaits You

1962.  The inaugural season of the New York Mets.  1979.  The year Johan Santana was born.  As you may know, Johan Santana is currently a starting pitcher for the New York Mets.  Last month, he pitched a no-hitter.  Now, a no-hitter by any pitcher, in any ball club is a cause for celebration—but for the Mets, it was historical.  Why? Because it was the first time that any New York Mets pitcher had pitched a no-hitter in the history of the franchise.  Since 1962, no one had ever pitched a no-hitter.  If you’re trying to do the math, let me help…50 years.
Johan Santana was born in Venezuela, right before the start of the 18^th regular Major League Baseball season.  Throughout his childhood, the Mets started some notable pitchers.  None of them pitched a no-hitter for the Mets.  Growing up, Santana played center field.  After being discovered and entering the training academy in 1994, he was told he would be a pitcher.  He wasn’t happy about that decision, because he considered himself a center fielder.  That’s what he was good at.  That’s where he’d always played.  Reluctantly, he accepted the role.  Six years later, he pitched his first game, for the Minnesota Twins in April of 2000.  He didn’t make his way over to Shea Stadium to play for the Mets until 2008.  Still, a no-hitter had not been pitched there.  Santana sat out of the 2011 season due to surgery, and came back hoping that he would be able to make an impact during the 2012 season.  That he did.  On June 1, 2012, he went down as the first, and only, New York Mets pitcher to pitch a no-hitter.

Today, I want you to believe in yourself—your potential for greatness.  I want you to wrap your thoughts around the fact that on the day you were born, you began a journey towards your destiny.  You have skills, talents and abilities that many others have, but the future is waiting for YOU to make history.  Your destiny could be tied to something or someone in another city, state, or country.  Your destiny could be tied to an unrecognized talent, skill or ability.  The key is preparation.  Vince Lombardi once said, “The only place sucess comes before work is in the dictionary.”  Don’t expect for success to come knocking on your door…go out and find it.  Surround yourself with people who are experts at doing the very thing that you want to do.  Seek out advice and constructive feedback from them.  Be open to their suggestions about the direction of your career.  Work on your weaknesses—real and perceived and when opportunity presents itself, give it everything you’ve got.

No one can do it alone.  Johan Santana is the one who will be remembered for the no-hitter, but there were others who helped make it possible.  One teammate caught a fly ball, an umpire made a questionable call in favor of Santana, and the team manager kept him in the game when he seemed to be struggling.  Don’t worry, if you’re prepared and working your hardest, your help will come in various forms.  It’s not going to happen overnight.  There will be many highs and lows on your journey, don’t spend too much time lamenting the lows, and spend even less time celebrating the highs.  View all of these as rest stops en route to your destination.  Keep moving forward.  

Always believe that you have a greater purpose than the one you see or have imagined.  You do.  In fact, it is my belief that the future is waiting on YOU to make history.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Each day that we live, we choose how we will respond to situations that arise. From the trivial, to the grand, consciously and subconsciously, we send these responses into the universe—affecting our lives, and the lives of others both directly and indirectly. Often, unaware of our tendency to take things for granted, we fail to see the wonder around us.

From the time the alarm clock sounds, many of us begin complaining. “Uh, it’s too early to be up”. “I hate mornings.” “I’m not a morning person”. “It’s too hot/cold outside” “I don’t feel like going to work today”. “I hate my hair”. “I don’t like the way I look in this outfit”. “I hate this job”. “The people I work with get on my last nerve”. “I’ve got too much on my plate”. “I can’t wait for this day to be over”. “They don’t pay me enough for this”. “I hate my commute”. “These kids get on my nerves”. “There aren’t enough hours in a day”. “I don’t feel like cooking”. “I’m tired of eating the same things”. “I’m not happy”. “There’s nothing on cable”. …and then we go to bed, wake up, and do it all again.

I challenge you to start your day with an attitude of gratitude. When your alarm clock rings, and you wake up, I want you to be cognizant of the fact that there are some who won’t wake up. Every time we open our eyes, we are fortunate. When you’re fed up with your job, think about the many unemployed people desperately seeking the opportunity that you are taking for granted. Better yet, think about how happy you were to get the job in the first place. When you’re praying for a day or a week to be over, remember, tomorrow is not promised. Live in the moment. When you’re stuck in traffic, think about the people who will be involved in a car accident, and won’t make it home. When you can’t find anything to watch on television, remember, there are many people who don’t own a television. Consider yourself privileged. When you find yourself annoyed with the kids, think about the many people who want to start a family but have been unable to conceive. The next time you open your refrigerator, or reach into your cupboard/pantry for something to cook or eat, reflect for a moment, on the families that will go to bed hungry.

It’s very easy to lose site of our blessings—especially when we are faced with challenges. However, it is important to be grateful for the things that make up our individual life experience. Begin your day with intentional gratitude because there’s so much to be thankful for. There’s always someone who would prefer to deal with your “problems” than to face their own.

Two Kinds of Smart People...

Have you ever talked with someone who used every word in the dictionary to form a simple sentence—the kind of person who regurgitates his intellect and rolls around on the floor in it? You know the type...they look for every opportunity to broadcast their brilliance. The effort is deliberate and overbearing--even obnoxious. Quite frankly, it's disgusting. However, this person doesn't seem to have any idea of that. They are so caught up in making sure you see them in the way that they want to be seen, and don't even realize that they've rammed their genius down your throat. I've watched this type of person change the mood in a room. Most of the time I’m able to fight off the urge to call the person out on it (I've got quite the reputation for being brutally honest...matter-of-fact...direct), but, more than a few times, I've been the person who said what everyone else was thinking. You don't have to wear a "Brainpower" t-shirt or shout your I.Q. score through a megaphone in order to let people know that you're smart. In fact, you don't have to tell people anything, they can always figure out more about you by what you do than by what you say.


When Christine Romans of CNN asked Van Jones to share the best advice he had ever gotten, he told her what his dad had advised him just before he went off to law school:

"Listen, when you get there, you're going to see, there are two kinds of smart people. There are smart people that take very simple things and make them sound very complicated so they can enrich themselves, and there are people who take very complicated things and make them sound simple to empower other people. I want you to be that kind of smart kid when you come back home."

I absolutely love and live by that advice!

...and I'll admit, I get a real kick out of seeing the "smart" guys light bulb dim as he begins to realize that the "cut-ups" in the room are brighter than he could ever dream of being, but have chosen to leave their megaphones at home.

Learning to Forgive...the Hard Way

When you think about “forgiving” you probably immediately think of a person who has wronged you.  The idea of forgiving the person (or persons) may bring on feelings of guilt too—especially when the person wants your forgiveness, but you can’t seem to move beyond your indignation.  Sometimes trying to explain why you can’t forgive to someone else is even more difficult…because you actually have to hear how petty or illogical your rationale sounds.  In some cases, forgiveness is a challenge because of painful memories or scars (physical or mental).  These can be tough to overcome. 

We all struggle with the notion of forgiving, sometimes choosing to embrace it, other times deciding to dismiss it.  The decision is always personal—no one can make you forgive.  I am not writing to try and change that either.  However, I will share that I learned the importance of forgiving the hard way.  When I was a teenager, I lost my dearest friend in a car accident.  At the time I was not speaking to her because of something that was so irrelevant but seemed reason enough at the time.  When I received the news that she had been in a car accident, I pleaded with God to spare her life.  I begged for one more opportunity to tell her that I loved her.  I never got that opportunity.  I was devastated.  You see, it had never occurred to me that we wouldn’t have the chance to make amends.  We were 18…we had so many years ahead of us.  That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. 

As a result of that experience, I have always asked myself an important question whenever the issue of forgiveness is on the table.  I reflect on the person who I am upset with and I ask myself this:  If something were to happen that resulted in the death of this person, would it matter to me?  Would I wish that I had handled the situation differently?  If I can’t say “No” then I have to let it go.  Whatever you decide to do, make sure that you can live with the decision because pleading, begging, and bargaining with God will not turn back the hands of time.

Trayvon Martin was My Son

I am saddened by the death of Trayvon Martin and sickened by the circumstances that led to his death, and the handling of the case. At this point, I don’t find it necessary to write all of the details because his name alone has become a household word. Although his death was clearly racially motivated in the very least, it seems to me that it was a calculated and sinister execution. The coward that killed him should have been arrested that very night, or maybe I’m confused because my experience with law enforcement has always been viewed through the eyes of a black woman. In my experience, black men have always been arrested first, and then the details are sorted out. In my experience, young black boys are harassed, frisked, and questioned without parental consent. In my experience, young black men are killed and authorities try and find evidence that the deceased was a problem child with poor character, and a history of some form of delinquency. In my experience, many young black boys have been arrested, beaten, and charged with misdemeanor offenses like disorderly conduct, for denying an officer the opportunity to search them without probable cause.
As a result of these personal experiences, I grew more concerned about my son as he entered his teenage years. Of course, all parents worry about their children, but for minority parents, teaching our sons—and daughters about racial profiling by people and law enforcement is a rite of passage. I’m raising my sons in a suburban neighborhood—a gated community. They are intelligent, articulate, respectful, and personable. However, my oldest son is seventeen and stands nearly 6’4 inches tall. Unfortunately, because of the color of his skin, in a hoodie, he fits the description of a criminal. He cannot congregate in front of the movie theatre with a group of black boys and laugh and crack jokes the way he can if he is out with his white friends. The behavior is viewed as obnoxious in the least and even menacing by some.
As a pre-teen, the neighborhood boys would play a game called “Manhunt”. This is a game that has to be played outdoors and in the dark. I don’t remember all of the details of the game, but from his description, it sounds like “Hide and Go Seek”. When he ran anxiously into the house for a flashlight to look for his friends and explained the game, I told him he could not play. He couldn’t understand why and thought that I was overreacting. I recall him being very upset. It didn’t matter. The rule still applied. I knew that we were new to the neighborhood, and one of only three black families living here. I was not willing to take the chance that people would see my son hiding in the bushes and have an initial thought of him being an innocent kid playing a game. He didn’t understand it then, but he does now.
Prior to him getting his car, we described what he should do if he was stopped by a police officer. Part of this dialogue that nearly every minority parent has with their kids—no matter their social or economic status, included: Keep both hands on the steering wheel, answer every question politely, don’t make any sudden movements, if asked to get out of the car or for permission to search the car, ask if you can contact your parents because you are a minor and may need an attorney. However, if all of this is disregarded and you are taken out of the car, do not resist. If they ask you to sit on the curb, sit on the curb. If they ask you to lie face down on the pavement without probable cause, lie face down on the pavement. It’s better to be arrested than to be killed. My son knows those rules like he knows his name. Sadly, for the rest of his life, those rules could be the difference between life and death for him.
Trayvon Martin was my son. Trayvon Martin was your son. What can we do differently to ensure that young black boys have a fair chance at living? That is certainly not too much to ask. No one should die because of the color of their skin. Regardless of the color of your skin, it is my hope that you can either relate to, or understand this plight. I hope that it sickens and outrages you to the point of action. I hope it moves you to do something. It really is up to us. Lady Justice is supposed to be blind, but I hate to say it, she’s cheating. She has managed to slip that blindfold just below her eyelid and we have got to put it back in place and tie it tighter. Would you join me in signing the petition for justice on behalf of Trayvon Martin? We are the change, and together we can make a difference. Go to www.change.org and sign the petition.

Black History Month...Big Deal. (Reposted from last year by request)

Twenty-eight days. I guess the fact that I’m not impressed makes me ungrateful. Well, I’m still not impressed. Each year during the month of February, kids in schools across America get to hear about Martin Luther King Jr., George Washington Carver, Harriet Tubman, Garrett Morgan and Jackie Robinson. Bulletin boards in schools across the nation are adorned with pictures, artwork, and biographical data in tribute to these and other black historical figures. African American communities host events to celebrate and corporate giants buy radio and television ads to show that they are culturally aware and committed to diversity. There are 365 days in a year and Black History gets 28 of them. Big deal. I sincerely believe that there was a time—many years ago, when acknowledging Black History for one month really meant something. I’m sure that when Carter G. Woodson started Negro History Week in 1926, he never envisioned that fifty years later, an entire month would be designated to commemorate the history of African Americans. I’m guessing that in 1976, African American parents were elated when their young children came home with a picture of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or were assigned to write a book report on a famous African American person. In 1976, the recognition of Black History month was a sign that our country had taken a huge step in the right direction. The country as a whole had moved from blatant discrimination to tolerance. I’d like to think that in 1976, the parents of school aged children felt the same kind of pride that I felt when my kindergartener wore his Barack Obama t-shirt to school the day after the 2008 elections. For on that day, we were celebrating something unprecedented. We were celebrating the day that our nation—as a whole moved from mere tolerance to acceptance. Although “acceptance” still implies inferiority (since the person who accepts someone or something is bestowing approval or favor), it still felt like a major hurdle had been crossed. I think it’s time for our nation to embrace the notion of equality. I subscribe to that notion. If one is an American, he or she should be afforded the same opportunities and privileges as any other American. Carter G. Woodson started Negro History with the dual purpose of getting African Americans to take pride in their worth as a people and getting others to embrace African Americans history as an important part of American History. To achieve the latter, our history must be infused into the history of our country—making every day black history day. As a nation, we have to go beyond the mere shout outs and mentions. We have to shift from the ideal of pacifying a people with trivial acts of tolerance and acceptance and instead, employ the universal ideology that tolerance and acceptance are patronizing at best, and at worst, insulting to the intelligence of the rational man. I’m not suggesting that we do away with Black History Month, I’m suggesting we work harder at being inclusive and treating every American equally. When that happens, there would no longer be a need for the twenty-eight day garbage time, where second string citizens get to have their moment in the spotlight. Until then, Happy Black History Month. I’m still not impressed.