The Need for Diversity

I’ve had a trifecta of race related issues meet me in the eyes in the last week and feel the call to address the need for diversity...here, there, everywhere. Although I am speaking from an American perspective, diversity on the global level is something that can not be swept under the proverbial rug. Much like global warming; some saw it then, some are seeing the light now, some have yet to join the party, but all of us will suffer the consequences if the issue is not addressed and a solution actively pursued.

Act I - College admissions in and out of the United States offer some surprising details. “Our” public universities here in CA, particularly the UC schools, continue to outlaw the same Affirmative Action initially designed to help campuses resemble the population a bit better. It’s now touted as reverse discrimination, though when it was in full effect, my being 1 of 500 black students of 18,000 at UCSB in an era of Affirmative Action speaks otherwise. Our schools are, as an AVID Weekly article expresses, are “becoming a mutant version of the Hunger Games,” with parents and counselors pushing students into one more varsity sport, one more musical competition and one more AP class, no matter how stressed, overworked and exasperated a student might be. That same article addresses a cheaper, faster and more diverse education at European universities where we are considered exotic, international scholars. Hmmm, a valuing of diversity. I saw this same article just after seeing a documentary on black men at UCLA and that the majority of black men there are athletes that will only graduate in dismal numbers. Yet, most believe nothing is needed to help level the playing field of schools with predominantly black and/or low income students from schools offering fewer AP classes and coming from communities where parents can not afford private tutors to help with the rigor of the coursework of their counterparts.

Part 2 - My personal journey of transitioning from “strait is great,” relaxed hairstyles to something that can’t decide if it wants to be an afro, twists and any combination of the many textures my God planted on my head, leads me to the second part of my diversity trifecta. The fact that I have to wonder how I will be received and perceived at my place of employment that includes over 50 staff members, none of which are black, and 1300 students of mostly not black heritage, makes me wonder why white folks don't have to go through this; but, it’s ok for me. On inaugural natural hair day, I did what I always do and blaze my trail nervously with a fake-ish smile planted on my face to a variety of positive comments, and puzzled, but not disapproving stares, and into a classroom only to hear, from a child of the white male persuasion, “What happened to your hair?” As I choked down the rising bile and fought the tear that I dared to make an appearance, I steered the child to my white, female partner and asked her to deal with it. While she nailed him for never commenting on a woman’s “fill in the blank,” I don’t think she could really understand the depths of this comment. It’s not just about being a woman, I’m not just a woman; but I’m a black woman, black not being more important than woman, and vice versa. My choices in the situation are to a) Ignore which many would say do and tell me I’m overreacting and that it’s just a kid, or b) give this little guy and his classmates a Black Studies 101 mini-lesson on white male privilege in America and that this was an example of how he is raised in a society that tells him that not only is it ok to make value judgements on those who are different from him, but to verbalize them, or c) address the issue of the power of words and how you don’t know “where” the person is coming from and how what you say may affect them. Also, that I should be able to come to work, and as long as I look neat and professional, have the right to work in a place where I should be free of ridicule. Also, that he should consider how each of my days is spent being the only one like me in a group of over 1300 people: the only one in class, the only one in school. Walk a mile in my moccasins and tell me it’s not something you keep subconsciously, at best, and have to think twice about when going into a new environment...and this is in “liberal” SoCal. You can decide what I did.

Episode III - After stewing, brewing and re-evaluating these occurrences, I saw a Facebook post about the need to get rid of political correctness and the trifecta was complete. The beautifully decorated post was about how America has stopped having dialogue because everyone is afraid they will offend someone else. Really? When I live in a country where I am underrepresented in environments generally deemed desirable, when I have to read about yet another case of adults in black face, Klan rallies, Treyvon Martin's, reverse discrimination and walk through a sea of stares because my hair is bigger than yours, I am shouting to the mountaintops that THE NEED FOR DIVERSITY IS REAL!

I have often been the only one; always having to explain my hair, my family’s Christmas Eve Gumbo, that yes, black people get sunburned, love to hike and the go to the beach. Explain that not all black people got into UCSB in 1989 because they were, “Lucky because I was black, female and smart,” (yes someone said that was why I got in), but the truth is, I got into UCSB in spite of being black and female and yes, I'm hella smart!

The answer, I don’t have one. Will I stop explaining how my hair is straight one day and curly the next, no. Will I quit addressing and educating about issues regarding race, no. Will I stop being the representative black voice for many well meaning whites who expect me to have all the answers, no.

And finally, am I an angry black woman, or “mad” black woman as Tyler Perry has coined it, no. I’m just one heart, one voice, one soul and one spirit fighting for my kids and grandkids not to experience being “the only one,” at least during sometime in their lifetimes. Until then, I sport my diversity as loud and proud as I can...At least in my little corner of this floating marble.

Weight Loss...Broken Down and Building Up

People I haven’t seen in a bit continue to surprise me by commenting on my loss and keeping off of 25 or so pounds. It happened so gradually and organically for me that I am still thrown by the words, “skinny,” and “you lost a ton of weight,” being attributed to me as according to society, I’m still teetering on obese. I think the weight loss is not only fat, but a burden and worry loss as well.

My number one response to the, “How’d you do it?” question has been, “I stopped eating my stress.” The puzzled mixed with a bit of “aha” look I receive in response has told me I need to examine my ability to express the hodgepodge of puzzle pieces that have come together to drop this little bit of physical and metaphysical weight.

My Food Truths:

1. Eat only if you’re hungry - Not because it’s time, not because you’re stressed, not because it’s there. If you eat good stuff, your body will tell you when it’s time to eat and when it’s full.
   
   
2. Increase water intake (Keep a water bottle nearby - reusable, not those throw away and overwhelm the landfill kinds) Sometimes you’re not hungry, just dehydrated. Water will keep all gears running smoothly and fill you up.
   
   
3. Increase fruit/veggie intake - Our bodies know how to deal with this type of food. Our bodies do a happy dance when these types of foods enter.
   
   
4. Limit processed foods - Our bodies spend way too much time trying to figure out how to break down and eliminate the chemicals in our “modern” foods. Our bodies have changed very little since our hunter-gatherer days and is baffled by the crap we put in and that it has to find a way to get it out. A lot of it doesn’t leave.
   
   
5. Up the lean/unprocessed proteins - I am not a big meat eater, but have increased skinless chicken, nuts, Greek yogurt and cheese. It fills you up and lasts.
   
   
6. Do some food math - Don’t focus on counting calories, but eating food in good combinations. ex. fruit+protein=good. bread+fat=bad.
   
   
7. Don’t waste calories on nasty food - If it doesn't throw a party in your mouth, don’t eat it. Just because your kid left it on their plate, does not mean you have to eat it to keep it from going to waste. Don’t put as much on their plate next time. See rule #1!
   
   
8. If you really want it, have it - Deprivation is lame. Life is too short. Eat that damn cookie if you want it, just make sure it’s good. Ask yourself if the calories were worth it. If they were, have that treat again, another day so it stays special. If it didn't taste like heaven, pass next time and wait for something good. If you've been eating “good” food, a little will be enough.
   
   
9. Shrink your portions - Do not eat on that giant, but oh so gorgeous platter. I use a pasta bowl often or only allow my food to fill the inner circle at the bottom of my plate. If I’m still hungry, I get more. Most of the time, it’s enough.
   
   
10. Food is not your enemy, nor your friend - Detach from your emotional relationship with food. You need to fuel the car that is your body with food. Food can not determine any long term happiness or angst. That’s a job for an animate object, not a bunch of calories.

When I, “Stopped eating my stress,” I was able to come to terms with my food truths above. We all know the main food rule - calories in vs. calories spent, but for so many of us, the foggy glasses of emotion and stress interfere with the clear food picture. For me, it was stress. What’s eating you? Be Katy Perry and “Roar” that you've, “got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire,” and that damned bowl of ice cream is going to hear you roar to tell it to go to you know where, because you are better, stronger, brighter and a fighter. (I know that was a bit much, but it cracked me up so it stays!) Bon Apetit!

How Do I Do What I Do...This Wonder Woman’s Prayer

My titles: Wife, mother, daughter, teacher, volunteer...none of which I profess to be perfect at. I've lost track of the number of times people have said, “I don’t know how you do it!” It’s almost to the point that I have to fight an automatic eye-roll every time I hear it. Part of me wants to say, “As if I have a choice not to keep going,” or “Everyone’s life is not as charmed as yours.” While there’s some truth in both statements, my kindergarten self says, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” So, my automatic reply to those statements is to smile and say nothing.

None of those responses are the real truth; at least not the truth that matters. The real truth is that this wonder woman has a very special prayer I say every morning. It goes a little something like this:

Dear Lord,Good morning. Thank you for waking me up to see another day and for helping me survive yesterday. I know you expect much of those who you have given much too, so I ask that you use me for whatever it is you need me to do. Show me who needs a hand, a kind word, a hug. Use my mouth to speak words of encouragement, support or humor to help someone in need so they may continue on their journey. Give me energy to keep going and doing. Forgive me for being selfish and worrying about my “what’s next” and “what if’s.” Help me enrich the lives of all those you've entrusted into my care and show me how to help.Use me for your work.Amen.

So, am I some superhuman with a secret potion for energy? Do I never sleep or need or want? Do I “know” something others don't? No. But, I know I am not here for me, but for something greater and if I devote my energy to fulfilling that destiny, countless possibilities come to fruition. What if we all surrendered to giving? My daily prayer is this wonder woman’s answer. I challenge you to find yours.

Grateful for the not so Great Moments: A Reflection in a Season of Gratitude

Many people spend the month of November practicing an attitude of gratitude. We use the month recognized for family, thankful pilgrims and forgotten Native Americans to look at our own lives and the things we are most thankful for. For some, it’s family, friends or a fulfilling career and for others, a time to be thankful for a roof over their heads, a healthy body and a full belly on a regular basis.

This month, I, as well, have decided an attitude of gratitude is due, but in a very different way. I am grateful for the experiences of my past, even those I wasn't so appreciative of in the moment.

I was inspired in the midst of this week’s Halloween festivities at my school. As I encouraged the next contestant in my ASB’s Halloween catwalk to go down the “red carpet” with as much attitude as was abundant in his bad greaser wig, I flashed back to the fundraiser fashion show I chaired in college and the moment when I told the model to walk with a rebellious strut as Public Enemy’s, “Fight the Power” played. In that same moment, I went further back in time to my own inaugural turn on the catwalk as a 14 year old who had dreams of being the next Beverly Johnson, but was told I was never going to be tall enough and to give up. Not becoming a model made me believe I was a failure, not making gobs of money for charity after the hours of planning that went into the charity fashion show, made me think I was a failure; but as that kiddo strutted his stuff down the center of our school with a smile and as I watched the high-five he received from a friend afterward, I realized all was not for naught. My “failures” were there to teach me how to enrich the lives of others that day and in many days to come.

A few days later, my poor girl-child sends me a texted photo of hair gone bad. I immediately began problem solving, and in the midst of my conference, texted words of comfort, sent a potential solution and contacted a professional for advice. A few hours later, a squeal of delight and bear hug helped me remember my relaxers turned scab fests, bad haircuts and date night hair woes, were devastating at the time, but were actually not truly about me. They were situations that trained me to help others in the future. This time, my own child.

So, for that, I am grateful for the moments that taught me to be creative, think on my feet, and move forward even when I thought my world was over. I am grateful for the heartache of mourning, the loss of friendships, bad hair, fatigue and all the other situations that taught me I “could,” even though I shouldn't have been able to make it through. Because now, I can enrich the lives of others. I can smile the grin I couldn't in the midst of past situations and can help to rescue others.

I do not say that I am Wonder Woman, only that I want to be like my hero and save the world and look fabulous while doing it. And for that, I am grateful, this month and always. For better or worse, I am grateful that I can give.