Tag Archives: Maine

Marching in Maine

13 Apr

Today’s post might not hold much interest outside of Maine but hey the title of this blog is Black Girl in Maine; so occasionally I like to speak about what’s happening in my corner of the world. Lately it seems marches are all the rage in Maine, a few weeks ago we had a group of ladies who decided to march topless through the streets of our largest city, Portland. It seems these gals wanted to bring attention to the societal double standard that allows men to go topless in public but generally speaking does not extend to women. Turns out though in Maine, ladies you are free to go head out sans shirt and bra anytime you like as we have no law that prohibits you from doing so. The organizer was a tad pissed since it seemed her statement march attracted the attention of a bunch of men who wanted to look at the ladies marching without shirts. I don’t know… march if you like but from my view it seems that to not expect folks to stare is akin to sitting a dish of ice cream in front of most folks…it will be eaten. It’s just the nature of the beast..right or wrong. Though I must be honest I really don’t want to see anyone topless, hell only time I want to see the Spousal Unit sans a top is when…you know where I am going.

After the success of the topless ladies, it seems the open carry folks have set their eyes on our largest city for a gathering. These would be the folks who like to demonstrate that the constitution of these divided states is still valid and like walking around in public like they are wandering through the Ole West fully strapped.

I have been following the accounts of these folks and I guess if I could ask one question it would be why? Seriously, I understand out in California the open carry folks have been gathering in Starbucks….um, is there a high chance of getting jacked for your double shot mocha? For real, aside from the fact that you make others uncomfortable, why wear a gun where we can all see? Funny thing I often wonder how many of these folks carrying guns openly live in areas where it might stop a person from robbing you on the street?

I admit I am not much of a gun person, but hey if you want one in your house I get it. It’s just that when you decide to stand next to me inline flexing your gun on your hip I wonder what is the point? Other than to make me think let me get the hell away from you quickly.

So readers if you like to strap up with the gun when you head out, I would love to hear your reasons why…I am serious.

Blame it on the darkies

3 Mar

It’s Saturday night at the local mall, like all malls there is a pseudo swank jewelry store selling diamonds, gold and other treats. It’s no Tiffany’s but for the area it fits the bill. So you are working at this shop which is located in a fairly homogenous area where there aren’t a great deal of people of color. What walks in? Three Black people!

Let’s see the first fella is 6’7 and about 220lbs and he has bad teeth. His male companion is a nondescript cat who is about 5’10 and the female companion has yellow-orange hair that is up in a ponytail and oh she has large mole on the side of her face. Damn, this motley trio sounds rather unattractive and I know you are thinking damn BGIM, where are you going with this. Just sit tight readers.

So the motley three walks in and apparently the staff at this establishment  did not wish to appear racist despite the fact these three were rather curious looking individuals. So instead of doing their fucking jobs and keeping an eye on the joint, the staff allowed two of the crew to distract them while a third popped open the jewel cases, all the while the staff was oblivious that they were being robbed. It was only after the trio left that they realized they had been robbed, but darn it the store has no cameras so we have no photos just the amazing memories of the folks who work there. Who lets face it, they stood there and allowed the joint to get robbed.

Shit sounds like a bad skit but its true, here’s the link to the local story. I nearly fell out my seat when I read this story since I am Black and I have been jewelry shopping and lets just say even as middle class college educated Black person there are certain stores where it seems the staff is trained to keep all eyes on you. Look, these folks if they exist and let me say that again if they exist, walked in a jewelry store looking like  bad stereotypes and looted the place but no one saw a damn thing. Yeah right, tell that to someone who was born last night.

No, my money is on the fact that  this is an inside job after all do the clerks at these places really make a lot of money? Last I heard the jewelry industry is not what it used to be with times tough and maybe someone needed some extra cash. So somebody planned the heist knowing there are no cameras to capture the event and hey when in doubt and you need a villain, pin it on the Black folks. Hell go for the gold, not just one darkie, get three and as a nod to the fact they are not all violent we will make them gentler robbers. No mere brutes, they use their charm to distract the staff and get the goods.

Nope, not buying it and until you show me 3 Black folks matching those descriptions and either there is iron clad evidence or they confess. I say this is a case of blame the darkie. We all recall how in the last two decades we have seen a rise in crimes where upstanding white folks blame shit on the Black bogeyman. He stole my kids, he killed my wife, etc.

Look on behalf of my Black brothas and sistas who are upstanding citizens I say please stop blaming invisible Black folks for shit..how come no one ever blames a Chinese fella or the guy from Eastern Europe?.

That’s right…I am a Black Girl in Maine

11 Sep

Its been a strange day. Today was the last day of girl child attending the program she has been in since she was 13 months old. When she started at the center, over 3 years ago I was teaching part-time and after having spent the first 13 months at home being a very attached parent, to say I was nervous about putting her in daycare was an understatement. Yet very quickly the lovely staff at the center became like extended members of our family, for months they held her while she fell asleep, dealt with cloth diapers, and never once seemed put off with my overbearing ways.

Needless to say in recent weeks it was one of the hardest decisions we made when we had to face the reality that our finances could no longer support girl child staying in their wonderful preschool program. Actually last year we couldn’t afford it but sacrified everything to keep her there in hopes that our work situations would pick up, instead after landing my position last fall, things got worse. A month ago it hit me that we could not continue to live so close to the bone. Yet for the past several weeks, I kept hoping somehow things would work out, that someone would contact either I or the Spousal Unit for a contract position but it didn’t happen.

So we awoke this morning once again reminding girl child that today was her last day, we sent notes to her closet buddies and hope that they take us up on our offer to have some playdates. Truly a sad moment though we may be able to volunteer a few times a month and girl child will be able to go and play with her friends. What is unique about this center is that for being located in Maine which is a really white state, there were other children of color there. In fact her class was about 40% non-white and her closet friend is also biracial. Due to the make up of the school, I have been insulated from the reality of how white Maine is and how that might impact girl child but tonight well…we got the wake up call.

After saying our good-byes this afternoon, we had to rush off to the open house at the new and affordable preschool she will be attending. The new preschool is actually affiliated with the daycare/preschool she has been attending since they are both part of the YMCA but the daycare is a full-time program that runs full days whereas the preschool is only a few hours a week and they are in separate locations. Demographically the folks who send their kids to the full-time program either work or are in school whereas the new program is generally kids who have never been in a program.

So we (that would be me, girl child and Spousal Unit) roll up to the open house, walk in and well lets just say it was um…interesting. Every kid and corresponding parental unit was white, ok its Maine, that’s not the end of the world I say to myself.

Well as I noticed parents glancing at us and not making eye contact I started to get a tad uncomfortable but what really has me writing a rare second post in a day is the fact that girl child being the outgoing character that she is walked over to another girl and started playing, the little girl looked tentative but the child’s Mama looked bothered. She actually at one point grabbed her kid and when I started talking to her looked like she really did not want to respond to me.

Thankfully girl child was oblivious and the woman did eventually allow her child to play with mine, but that scene has me disturbed to my core. As my child went to wander and play some more, I noticed the looks of the kids and parents and it took everything for me to not cry…the Spousal Unit saw the look on my face, the one that generally means I am about to lose my cool and get gutter. Thankfully I did not, instead I brushed it off and put on my best damn snooty voice and held my head high but tonight as I write this the tears fall. They fall as I remember every miserable fucking year I spent as the only Black kid in the class, that was hard enough but at least I went home and saw Black folks.

I cry tonight wondering about our future and how long we will be here, truth is unloading this house would take an act of God so leaving is not an option. It’s funny because tonight I am reminded that Maine is a really white place yet whiteness has so many levels. I generally operate in that space here where I am surrounded by more liberal open types who embrace diversity which while at times as its drawbacks, it generally means folks who if they have beef with me, it’s because I am an asshole and not because I am Black. On the flip side are those who have less exposure to folks from different backgrounds and like tonight it shows.

So I have no idea what the future holds though girl child was oblivious which is a blessing and wants to go back and I have cautiously agreed to try it next week while we explore our options. But tonight I am reminded that I am a Black Girl in Maine raising a Black girl and at times it’s a lonely road.

Turn down the temperature

27 Jul

After a summer of wondering when summer was going to actually arrive, it seems summer has decided to arrive with a vengeance up here in my corner of the world. People always assume that people of color dislike cold weather and prefer hot weather, of course that is a silly stereotype but like many stereotypes they can sometimes be based in reality. (Though an informal poll amongst my friends of color shows only a handful share my love of cool weather) Take my father, he loves hot weather.  However his love of hot weather did not rub off on me, anything over 75 degrees is officially too hot and humidity? I hate humidity, of course being a seasonal allergy sufferer humidity only seems to make me feel even worse and combined with heat, I become a cranky lady.

I on the other hand love crisp cool days, thankfully summer is a brief season in Maine so I am trying not to complain too much, though beach trips are fun, so summer has some uses!

So while its nice to see the sun, the fact that its 80+ with humidity is making me cranky and sadly my resolve to not use air conditioning this summer has gone out the window. Can someone please turn down the heat? Or at the very least turn off the humidity switch? Thanks!

Joys of Maine…a day in the life of BGIM

26 Jul

I realize that sometimes I rant so much that it might be hard to imagine why I continue to stay in Maine aside from the fact who in their right mind would buy an old ass house that needs tons of work from me? But yesterday was one of those days that reminds me of why I enjoy Maine.

We left the house after doing our usual Sat trek to the farmers market and library and ended up going for a drive. The drive took us to one of the lighthouses here in Southern Maine as well to park with a neat fort….amazing entertainment that is free and appeals to the almost 4 year old in the house. (Elder boy decided to sleep all day…gotta love teens!) After exploring the lighthouse and fort, our tummies were rumbling so we found the coolest cafe/bakery near the lighthouse with mostly cheap fresh food. Though $4.50 was a tad high for a plate of eggs and toast for girl child, the plate was filled to almost overflowing with eggs.

After eating, we ventured to a never seen before Goodwill which I discovered was the best one I have found thus far in Maine since all the prices were $4.99, scored a lovely vintage summer dress…made Mama very happy. At that point it was time to head home along the way we stopped off for ice cream at a local candy shop and a chance to view the life size chocolate moose.

Clearly it was a full day and I would have been happy to call it a day but not wanting elder child to be left out, I took him out last night to hear some live music at a new venue in the town next door…it was a night that included good music, hanging with my son, chatting with friends and a special treat for Mama…3 glasses of sangria (why have I only just discovered sangria…must get a recipe). Regular readers know I have a driving phobia so we walked home from the venue, about a mile or so at 11 at night and it was a peaceful walk, the type of walk that back home in Chicago I could not imagine doing late at night after a few drinks.

Anyway that’s a day in the life of the Black Girl in Maine and just a snapshot into why I live here.

The follow-up

22 Jul

In case you are interested in the follow up to my last post, I am posting the column that was accepted by my editor…which has spawned a conversation with my editor and a meeting for next week. I will keep you posted on whether or not, I will keep writing professionally since its really just a side thing I do since my real day is non-profit hack! By the way I have not responded to any of the comments on the last post but may do so in a separate post since I think the comments are interesting and actually speak to some of what happens with multiracial discussions take place.

Me, myself and race

I have been told by many different people at many different times that I put too much thought into race. That perhaps I overreact to things and see race as a factor when it might not be.

You should have met me years ago if you think that, because I really don’t obsess on race that much. To be honest, my White husband is far more likely to get into protracted battles of words online with people about race and White privilege than I ever would in any situation.

However, I do have a column called Diverse-City, race is still an important issue in this country, and I’m still Black. And a lot of people just won’t let me forget the color of my skin, because they still treat me differently than every white person around me. It doesn’t matter how many letters I have amassed after my name. It doesn’t matter what my job is. It doesn’t matter how law-abiding I am. What matters is that, like it or not, people assume things about Black people in general. This is not something that happens to White people.

Oh, I know that White people of various kinds can be judged on various things, like weight or gender. But as a race, White people don’t ever have to worry about most of the population looking at them and assuming that the color of their skin means they will behave in certain ways, like certain foods, enjoy certain music, be more prone to commit crimes, be more likely to have children they can’t afford, and so on.

Problem is, when I point out that I’m being treated in a certain way probably because of my race, I am often asked to prove it. My judgment is questioned. My experiences of an entire lifetime are discarded as irrelevant. My instincts are cast into doubt. Studies that show how Blacks are inequitably treated all the time are inadmissible. In other words, short of being able to bring in a team of researchers to study my life for a few years, nothing will prove to a naysayer that my feelings are on the money.

So, if I speak up, I must be prepared to get all sorts of alternate scenarios and reminders of how far our nation has come. All to invalidate my very real concerns and the evidence of my own experience.

If a parent takes a child away from a playground because someone seems a bit creepy, even if they haven’t gone near a single child in an improper fashion, that’s considered good parenting. I agree.

If a woman flees from a man she thinks might be dangerous, that is considered a wise and proactive move. I agree.

So why does no one else agree that I can claim racism when:

My Black son is harassed by police, multiple times, for merely walking down the street.

My White husband is asked during a traffic stop to explain who I am and why I’m in the car.

Five White people in front of me in line don’t get a second glance when they hand over a credit card, yet I am expected to provide one or two forms of ID, and the cashier looks them over intently for 10 seconds or longer.

I am asked to explain how all Black people feel about a certain issue.

I get my food long after several later-arriving White patrons already got theirs, and their food is nice and steamy while mine is room temperature.

I could go on, but the fact is that I let most of these things slide, and don’t want to dwell on them. It’s just that I occasionally get fresh reminders that are so hard to ignore.

Oh, like eminent Harvard professor Henry Louis “Skip” Gates Jr. being arrested this week for breaking into his own home, even though he had ID to prove he lived there. Because we all know that the nice police officer would have done that to a White homeowner. Yeah, right.

And we wonder why we are still talking race in post-racial America

20 Jul

If you are sensitive to discussions about race, do me and you a favor and just skip this post…I am talking race today and it might start feeling a smidge uncomfortable. What you are about to read is a column I wrote for a local publication that was rejected by my editor on the basis that maybe when I am talking race, I am the one with the chip on my shoulder. It was suggested that I need to look at why I get so bothered by racial things…I don’t know maybe its because as a Black woman living in these divided  States of America that despite having a Black president racism is still a fact of life and as much as I wish race wasn’t an issue that I didn’t haveto think about, that just is not the world I live in….

Uncomfortable in my own skin

I’m proud to be Black. I sometimes joke with my husband that I’d like a “White suit” for those days I don’t want to deal with preconceptions from other people that derive from the color of my skin but the fact is: I wouldn’t want to be White.

Then again, lately I feel conspicuous in my dark skin. So, what’s the trigger for that?

Hell, what aren’t the triggers?

In the nearly three months since David Okot was killed by the Portland Police after reportedly waving a gun around in a threatening fashion, I’ve watched the continued deterioration of relations between Somali and Sudanese immigrants and the police. Seems like whenever police have to chase a Somali or Sudanese kid for stealing something, now they’re accused of harassing these two groups. And lately, there have been rumblings that when the police are called by some Somali and Sudanese residents of Portland, the calls might be ruses to lure police into confrontations.

Closer to my home, Rory Holland of Biddeford in late June reportedly shot dead, at 1 a.m., brothers Gage and Derek Greene–aged 19 and 21–outside his home. Holland has a criminal record going way back, for a variety of unsavory crimes, and is the kind of guy who seems to like to file lawsuits against people for fun and profit.

Also, there is Shalom Odokara, who runs Women in Need and was vice chairwoman of Portland’s Planning Board until city officials learned that she recently pled guilty to criminal charges in federal court. She was already on probation after pleading guilty in 2006 for embezzling $108,000 from the World Bank, and in 1989 she was convicted for trafficking heroin from Nigeria to Maryland.

As if that’s not enough, it turns out that Portland city council member and current mayor Jill Duson apparently knew about at least portions of Odokara’s criminal past already, and didn’t tell her colleagues, nor ask Odokara to resign.

Can you guess what Okot, Holland, Odokara and Duson all have in common?

Yeah, they’re Black.

And I feel sometimes like the rest of us Black people are being judged in light of that. Any time even one Black person makes the news prominently for a crime in this state, I get tense because people almost invariably start look at me harder and more suspiciously. And in a short span of time, three major stories in which four black people and a couple of entire immigrant African populations figure prominently.

Oh, joy!

Partly, I sense the judgmentalism in the comments I see online in response to news articles about these events. But while I realize that those aren’t allMainers, why is it that so often, when I sit down in a restaurant or coffee shop and settle into my “eavesdropping for entertainment” mode as usual, someone starts talking about Rory Holland or Odokara or the “Somali problem” within seconds? And why am I getting more grumpy looks from people after living in my community for six years now?

And no, I don’t mean the Canadian tourists; I’m used to getting weird looks from them every damn summer. I’m talking people who see me in passing on a regular basis.

In African-American culture, many of us are raised to understand that, for right or wrong, our actions will be seen as representative of the entire Black community. My 17-year-old at times tells me this thinking is outdated. But even he has come to realize that  wearing the baggy pants and gym shoes that is so popular with youth is a surefire way to invite trouble from racists and attention from police even though he doesn’t do anything nefarious or suspicious.

So I would urge all of you to please remember that it’s White people who commit the vast majority of crimes around here–and no, aside from having run into Rory Holland in downtown Biddeford from time to time and steering clear of him because I thought he was creepy, too, I don’t know these people. And I certainly shouldn’t be judged based on them.

End of column……

Obviously this piece has a local slant so feel free to google additional information if you really want to know what goes on in Maine. Now it was funny because as the Spousal Unit (aka resident white guy in my house) and I were discussing how I should proceed with my column, we got news of this story. Seems Skip Gates, a well known Black scholar and Harvard faculty member was arrested for breaking into his own house. Now having read the police report it appears Gates forgot the rules of Blackness in America…when dealing with the police, they don’t give a damn who the fuck you are, and you can best believe Barack Obama in a few years when he is out of office if his ass ever gets caught without Secret Service detail and the local police think he is suspicious, he too could get locked up.

If you think I am tripping as the young folks used to say, well you are asleep at the switch. There may be a few times when Black folks cry race when its something else but too many times race is the issue, it never stops being an issue.  Sadly too many well meaning white folks these days point to the fact that we have a Black president as hard evidence that racism is mostly dead. Look, truth is Obama won because the economy sucked and folks realized that with McCain and Palin we would really big screwed…when it comes to folks and their money, they will do what advances their best interest and McCain was not in most folks best interest. You think the economy is screwed now? Imagine life under the maverick duo? I know…nasty thought!

Instead we have to look at ways to get around issues of race and not let it be an issue but that still does not stop us from having days when we shake our heads and go damn!  As for me, well I am gonna do some soul searching and figure why oh why I get so bothered by race..maybe its because every time my son leaves the house there is a part of me that prays and wants to tell him no don’t go. Maybe its because I hear the stories of abuse that Black and biracial kids put up from their peers here in Maine for the crime of not being white…maybe its because despite the fancy letters that go after my name, I still encounter folks daily who question who I am and whether or not I am qualified to do my job. Just little stuff that keeps me wondering….

Spring is here..

3 Apr

Its been a week of gloom and doom around here but its time to look on the positive side, after all while its easy to sit around and feel sorry for myself, truth is my life could be a whole lot worse. I got an email a few days that brought this home quite clearly, a woman I know but not well was just diagnosed withbreast cancer. Thing is we are similar in age, have kids in the same age range and are walking a similiar path in life with regards to our faith. She is actually one of the ministers at our church and we have talked briefly about my thoughts on going to seminary (I will share more on this later), in some ways she reminds me of myself. Which is why I was stunned to hear she is battling cancer, yet she wrote an amazing letter to our congregation that was filled with such an upbeat spirit that I must admit it made me feel bad about bitching about my life recently.

After all, as far as I know I am in in good health as are my immediate family members. I have a roof over my head, no utilities have been turned off, plenty of food in the house, car is running and the Spousal Unit and I do have jobs. Yeah, we may make less than we used to or less than we think we need but our needs are getting met.

So in the spirit of looking on the bright side, lets talk about Spring in Maine. First off there is no real spring, instead we have Mud Season…see it snows forever in Maine, shit, it may be April here but snowstorms in Maine in April are not unusual..in fact the first year here I was stunned to see so much snow. Thing is when its not snowing during spring, all the snow that has been piled up in the yard since December is only now finally melting thus creating a muddy effect otherwise known as Mud Season. I was just walking in my yard yesterday and my feet just sank into the mud…fun times.

Bright side though is that the birds are chirping and thanks to my neighbors bird feeders, I get to hear plenty of birds, I must admit the birds are far prettier than the flying rats (aka pigeons) I grew up with in Chicago. Of course this year, we have a new addition to the backyard wildlife, the arrival of a possum. A nice ugly looking beast though it seems they are harmless…I do wish it would get the hell out of my yard.

Other signs of spring include the opening of all seasonal businesses such as the local clam shacks and ice cream stands…nothing like homemade ice cream.

Anyway there are plenty of signs that spring is here including the thick rolling fog that prior to Maine, I had only seen in San Francisco though this fog at times is scary. Think a Stephen King novel, and you can imagine the fog here.

So happy Friday, happy Spring and what signs of Spring are you seeing in your area?

Eating local

17 Mar

 

These glorious pics are far our first pickup from our Spring share of our CSA, as regular readers know I strive to eat locally. One of the joys of living in Maine is that I have easy access to farms which means fresh food is easily accessible, yes it costs a tad more but from a taste perspective, nothing beats local eating.

We started buying locally about 6 years ago, I joined our CSA and was immediately hooked, though Mister Spousal Unit is not as sold on the concept as I am of buying local though he admits the local ground beef we get is far tastier than the regular stuff at the store.

Anyway spring is in the air with the arrival of greenhouse greens and other goodies. By the way our first share has eggs which mini me had the pleasure of playing with the lovely hens that laid the eggs when her and Papa did the pickup. In addition we had onions, cabbage, carrots, greenhouse salad greens and beets…oh, can’t forget the beans (red).  Its been great having daily salads again now that I can get real lettuce, the stuff available at the grocery store is tasteless in comparison.

Not much time for a long post since my computer spent most of the day at the computer shop being repaired, apparently she wanted a vacation…catch ya later.

How to raise a racist

5 Feb

This a true story that I am about to share with you, one that I almost hesitate to share because I know some of my readers in my daily life but one that I think needs to be shared for all those who think that the election of Barack Obama has done away with racism in America. For all the talk of post racial America, I call bullshit loud and clear. No, racism is still woven into the very fabric of this nation and our culture and I have discovered the seeds of racism are still planted very young and will ensure that we still will grapple with this evil for at least another generation.

Up until a few months ago, I worked at a freelance grant-writer and consultant, a job that after a while was starting to wear on me. Too many of my clients looked to me as a miracle worker and in the current economic climate I started to realize a little job security might be a good thing. Which is why when the opportunity came up to become Executive Director of a center that serves poor and working class families in a neighboring community came up, I jumped at the position.

Now as a Black woman in Maine, I was a tad hesitant about how this might work since all the families we serve are white, however as a person who was raised poor and working class I can relate to these folks. Well, initially I thought things were going well and while the board (aka my bosses) probably feel they are going well, I am starting to realize that for some of our families my blackness is an issue.

 Recently due to a staffing shortage, I have had to take over running of the after school program myself some days which means that I have a lot more contact with the kids and their families then either I or the board thought would be necessary. The only alternative was to be closed until I can bring on the necessary staff which for some our families would have had a devastating effect since our program is free and these are not cheap services. I will be the first to tell you that watching the kids myself is outside my comfort zone, I like kids, shit, I own a couple myself but watching someone else’s kids is a different situation then watching your own kids especially when you are watching 20+ at a time.

Well at first, it looked liked things were going good, several parents I spoke with last week were happy that I was there and that we were going to be open albeit for less hours while I resolve the staff shortage. However a kid told me something last week that cut to my core and honestly unnerved me initially….little boy A generally comes everyday with his cousin, little boy B. So I noticed that little boy B had not been coming, so I asked his cousin A where was B. Little boy A told me that his cousin B was not allowed to come if our site manager was not there.

Now I have lived 36 years as a Black woman in America so you know where my mind went but I didn’t push and just left it alone, though it was still in the back of my mind until yesterday. A couple days ago, I saw little boy B and his Mama outside the center, well the Mama looked in and saw me and then put boy B back in the car and drove off….and no the site manager wasn’t there so it was just me.

Again, I pushed the doubts aside but yesterday well they came out again, yesterday our site manager was in which meant I could go back to my job of running the agency instead of overseeing this program, but boy B told me something that knocked me off my axis. So both boys were in yesterday and I commented to little boy A that it must be nice that his cousin was there and he said to me in the presence of the site manager that Little Boy B again can’t come if I am just there because Little Boy B’s parents don’t like me. Mind you he said it in that childlike naïve way that kids repeat what they hear at home. The site manager asked why all the while turning beet red and the little boy just repeated his statement again and said because……and that was it.

 Now some might say “Blackgirl, you are jumping to conclusions” Um, no….like I said earlier I have been Black 36 years and some shit you just know, you don’t need a map or a GPS system in this case to get to the conclusion. Mind you until recently little boy B always came up to me and issued me a big hug and was always talkative, this kid is a sweetheart, in fact a truly likable kid. I have noticed that now he stays away from me as if he has been instructed to stay away from the nigger.

See, this is how you raise a racist and start em young. I will be honest I went home last night almost thinking what the fuck am I doing here. However I prayed to forgive that family and at this point it’s between them and the man upstairs, anger is not an emotion I either need or want though there is still sadness to see that such a warm loving kid is being raised to hate early on. So while for my more educated and open minded country men and women of the paler hue racism may seem like a thing of the past, I tell you nope it is not.