I love you and “You’re just fine”…

I am a Mother. l think like a Mother, view the world and its inhabitants like a Mother, I even view problems like a Mother from time to time…with tenderness, understanding, nurturing, and protecting arms.

I have many children…but that wasn’t always the case. At the beginning, I only had one child. He was adopted and soooo special and because he was my first, all of my attention focused on him. He and I formed a very tight and special bond. And he was good at everything…sports, school, having the attention of girls and adulation of boys. So, he was always picked first for everything….Everyone loved him and everything in our world was beautiful and as I said, he was special.

I loved giving my baby attention. He was such a good child…so well behaved and did so great in school..he was just a perfect child…so perfect that when it came to giving him anything he wanted, all he had to do was ask. Financially, this was an easy thing to do. There were no other siblings to consider so, there was no competition for material things or even emotional attention. He had it all… because he was my only child. He became used to this special treatment. Who wouldn’t? He was a child, still too young to see the world as it truly is outside of this protective cocoon we call home, or most days, my arms…my embrace. I would lovingly hold him everyday so tightly that I thought my love was going to suffocate him…but I didn’t care, I didn’t want to let go. I pulled him close to me because I loved him so much but, like a mother, I also wanted to protect him from all of the ‘realities’ that awaited him outside of this door, or of my arms. He never complained of my embraces, my love…he was satisfied. He was a happy child. Very happy. I was happy. Life was good. Then…one day, everything changed.

I was expecting my second child….not only that, I decided that I loved children and being a mother so much, I wanted to have a bigger family, so I was also adopting 3 other children as well. Like my first child, I felt that they, too, needed good homes, love, shelter, attention, loving embraces from me. And because my baby and I had years to seal our bond of love for one another, I knew I would have enough love, extra love, to go around for all of my children, so I didn’t hesitate nor worry.

See, the love that was active and engaging between me and my first born was so strong that my heart actually grew bigger! Many parents will tell you about this miracle. They will tell you of the moment they fell in love with their child, or grandchild, or stepchild, or foster child, or extended family child. You get the idea. Any way, they will and can tell you the exact moment they fell in love. They felt their hearts grow bigger and bigger, deeper and deeper. This was my reaction too. So, through the years, my heart expanded so much that I knew the love that has grown over the years from loving a child, actually made more room, more space to love morel

Well, back to the story. I went to my only child, my baby and told him the great news! We were going to expand the family, open up our home and hearts to his newest siblings! I just knew he’d be excited!  Many times, late at night, before I went to sleep, I would lie in my bed, stare at the ceiling, say my prayers and worry about my baby. I worried that he was lonely. That I was being selfish having him, keeping him all to myself. I wasn’t sure what to do…so I prayed about it. I asked God for advice. What should I do? What is best for me AND my child? “Share the love, your love,” God replied. So, I did. I opened up my heart and prepared myself for the blessing of sharing my love, God’s love, with others in need. Sounds nice doesn’t it?

Well, my baby wasn’t having it! He was furious!!!!! To make a long story short…he threw tantrums, broke things, yelled at me, hit me, cried day and night…I really thought HE thought he was going to die! “I don’t want to share my toys!” “I don’t want to share my friends!” “I’m the only baby!” “We don’t need anyone else!” “I hate you!” “I hate you!” As any parent would tell you, that last insult really hurt. HATE. Such a nasty word. Full of passion and intensity like it’s something good like LOVE, but it’s just the opposite. It is destructive. This was not my baby. All of this yelling, was not my baby.

As I said, I view the world and my baby as a mother…so, I looked for other reasons and possibilities of why he would respond this way. I went deeper. And as I concentrated on his words, what he was saying, but most importantly, what he wasn’t saying verbally, but what he was saying with his energy, spirit, heart…I heard it clearly. When he declared, “I don’t want to share my toys, friends, we don’t need anyone else”  what he was really saying was that he didn’t want to share me, my love, my attention, and just didn’t want to share, in general. Now, I understood!

He was frightened that he would be placed last and the other children would get all of my attention. He was scared that I would love them more, prefer them more. He was afraid that the little space he and I created in the universe was just big enough for the two of us, never big enough for ‘others.’ He was afraid that his siblings might get all of the attention from the girls, boys would find his brothers or sisters as role models instead of him. He was afraid of competing with his future siblings because they might win from time to time. He was even afraid of sharing his food, bed, clothes. They all, Everything, had been his, and only his, for so long that he just couldn’t conceive of sharing anything and being happy and feeling loved all at the same time. I never knew my baby would grow up to act like this or feel like this. I guess his love didn’t grow in the same way mine did. Perhaps it’s because he is a child and I am an adult, a mother, who was made to love more than one. Oh boy…this is a problem. A problem I helped create.

I conditioned him to live in a cocoon, sheltered only by my love. I didn’t force him to accept others. Heck, he didn’t really have to learn to accept others. It was always whether or not they would accept him, and they always did. I told him he was the most special child in the world! He was everything good, special, unique, the only star in the sky that mattered. Growing up as a child, with a child’s vulnerable and malleable mind, easily influenced, he believed EVERY SINGLE WORD, literally. So….what happened? Where are we today?

Well, after all of the children came home, after he stopped trying to hurt them physically, verbally, and emotionally, because that’s what some children do when they feel their space is being threatened, after he stopped being a bully, letting his little brother accidentally roll off of the bed, sister locked in the bathroom, another sister he was supposed to be watching was mysteriously left outside somewhere, and after a 007 type investigation and discovered that each child wasn’t a criminal in the making from, “allegedly,” stealing things around the house that were curiously always found by my baby, the hero (see mommy, this is why you should love me more type trap, smiling), I’m happy to say that everything is beautiful, wonderful and loving.

Instead of chastising him for his feelings, I loved him even more and even harder through it all. I expanded his learning and understanding by explaining to him every day, and showing him every day, that I love him so much, how to love his brothers and sisters, share with them, embrace them, protect them, lose competitive engagements to them, even spanked him from time to time, and then had him stand directly in front of a full-length mirror every night in my room and see that “you’re just fine.” Nothing broken. Nothing hurt, and nothing bruised (except his ego from time to time). But, that’s just life…that’s just being human.

He soon discovered that mommy loved him just as much as I did the first day I kissed his newborn face. Now that he was older, and because he had been given so much of everything in the years before, it was time for him, my baby, to simply make some room for his sisters and brothers to receive the same type of treatment he received. I also told him that I expected him to do well with this because he had so much experience in being the only, special one, he would surely know how to create this type of safe and beautiful environment for his sisters and brothers. He also discovered that he, too, had more love to give and that his life actually became a little bit easier because he not only shared love, which continued to grow, he shared the burden and responsibility of creating a beautiful, safe and loving home with his sisters and brothers for others who needed more. Even the most difficult of children who needed more attention and support and love, we, as a family found ways to reach and teach them, lovingly. We, me, my baby, and babies, learned that in order to be loved, thoroughly, we have to give love, willingly, and without request. This way, the love that we extend and share between souls, human beings, will grow authentically, exponentially, …and in healthy ways….in beautiful ways.

Yes, we are truly a happy family. My babies of all different colors and shades are all loved and thriving and doing exceptionally well. They have love in their hearts that never ceases to grow….just like my love for them.They are my babies…all of them…and we are one happy family.

Before you ask or say that the problem was caused because I was a single mother. I was not. I was merely talking about the love between a mother and a child. In some ways, I feel that God made some people special, with special talents and skills. Some, were MADE-CREATED to be mothers or mothering. I am one of them who is of the “mothering’ kind. I believe that I am a good mother because I care for others more than myself. A selfless love that, while some may feel is not a healthy way of living, feels absolutely natural, healthy, and beautiful to me. Because I even have enough love for myself and with all of the love I get in return, I am never running on empty.

For those who know me, who never knew I had children, know that I have never lied. You know me well. But, I see the World as my children…as my family, and so I try and nurture and understand their growing pains…ALL of the children.

I wrote this story because this is how I truly feel. When I read about the painful situations that are creeping up between the races, between the children of the human race all over the world, this is my story. When I hear and read of white children lashing out at their black brothers and sisters, this is my story. For example, when I think of how some of the ‘white’ children, my children, my white brothers and sisters (children, meaning, inexperienced of any age) who were brought up to feel special, conditioned to be special and the “only ones,” have to now learn how to share, extend themselves to others outside of their comfort zones, for perhaps the first time in their lives, I see them as babies learning something new. Because they have been the “only ones,” for so long in this constructed country, of course they are going to feel threatened. Of course when people call out “the special ones” they are going to feel targeted, villianized, because they have and are of the ‘constructed’ dominant race in this country. They will even lash out. Some individuals from the Majority have NEVER been left out of ANYTHING in this country, so it is easy to gauge their responses of NO, “we don’t and won’t be left out of anything, any place, or any UNION!” It is the story of the special child.To me, it’s basic human interaction. It does not mean that they are hateful or mean. It means that they don’t have any experience of sharing with others without feeling left out, or diminished, or feeling like they are going to lose in this competitive, capitalistic infrastructure we call America. They feel dis-empowered. How would you feel if you felt, was told, believed your whole life that you were the only child and NOW you have to share with others, which may mean that you will have to work harder, longer, and without privilege or entitlement? Some of us would do well with this process, mostly because we have had to share all of our lives, and some of us would not, no matter the race, creed, ethnicity, or sex or gender. It is a conditioning. I’ve seen individuals who had NO POWER, get a Little bit of power and go absolutely bonkers with it. Exploitation, corruption. You just don’t know how people will respond. Get it?

Another way of looking at this is, if the odds have always been in your favor, and life is STILL hard, wouldn’t you want to keep the odds the way that they are? Darwinism…the fittest will win..or in this case, the construct of particular races will win if we leave the System as is. The System is flawed. The System has conditioned humans in this country to be competitive with one another…not loving…We do the loving ourselves. Says good things about us doesn’t it? Knowing that the challenges we have overcome is due to the love and acceptance and sharing we intentionally and deliberately engage in, outside of the infrastructure. Makes me feel good about the human race.

But, it’s ok. I believe that one day we will understand each other. Until then, I promise, there is enough room for everyone.

In no way am I excusing bad behavior or inappropriate behavior, or violence, or hate crimes, or hate speech. What I am saying is that, in spite of it all, I still love the human race. I still look at my sisters and brothers, white, black, yellow, brown, etc, and feel love, empathy, even pity in some situations. Don’t get me wrong, I can also get angry and fed up just like the next person, but my nurturing side always seems to take over for some reason and so I choose to hug, rather than hit. Perhaps it’s because I received so many hugs when I was growing up. (I’m going to hug ten strangers today). Perhaps, this is the way God made me.

When I read and view all of the craziness that is happening between AMERICANS! in addition to hearing hate, blasphemy, viciousness, I also hear pain, fear, insecurity, worry, beneath the actions and performances. This is also my story when I think about heteronormative versus homosexual, national versus international, mother versus daughter, father versus son, male versus female, Blue lives versus Black lives, gang members versus non gang members, and so on. Sometimes, it simply boils down to a lack of understanding, virtual, emotional, space, love and respect. But LOVE and RESPECT and UNDERSTANDING can narrow this GREAT DIVIDE. Some cannot, will not, understand my story, my perspective, but, that’s ok. I believe change is still possible and I believe this change can be accomplished in transformational ways….

It’s not just my mothering perspective or nature that is playing a role here. Other times, I see the mother figure of this story as the United States, the world, Mother Earth, or God, who watches over ALL the children of the world, us, and because some of us have been in particular spaces and played particular roles for so long, we don’t know how to share, don’t want to share, ANYTHING. But, I also believe that people can learn to do all of these things, must learn to do all of these wonderful things, learn to share, extend ourselves to others and be loved, so that we can all live as one, humongous, happy family, together, in peace, in love, in harmony.

Yes….this is my hope, my dream, my wish, and my prayer each and every day. We are ALL special babies…and I choose to view the world through a Mother’s eyes…the most precious of eyes who can love anyone…any child…even the one who is yelling in pain, wanting only to be understood, protected and loved. Know that, in spite of your bad behavior, I love you, and always will. That doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve a spanking every now and then, but you must learn to love others and support and share with your brothers and sisters….these are growing pains and, yes, I’m going to say it… “they are for your own good….” smiling…

Give it a try, repeatedly, and see what happens. The change won’t happen over night so, at the end of the day, when you do great things to help someone else, stand tall and proud in front of the full-length mirror, and you’ll see that….you’re ok. Stop the killing of your sisters and brothers. EVERYONE, stop the killing of your sisters and your brothers…..please….you are destroying our family.

Embracing, Hugging, Loving you…..hold me tightly….thank you….

Join Me: The Above Ground Railroad

I am Sandra Bland

I AM Sandra Bland

Join me: The Underground Railroad of the 21st Century

All Aboard!!!!!

I woke up this morning thinking about the trip that awaits me. My return home. 13 hours. Driving. Immediately, I thought of Sandra. Immediately, I felt as if I was thrown back in time….a time, before the Civil War. Wait…scratch that…a time after the Trayvon Martin case where I no longer feel safe on the streets of America. Yes, sadly, I don’t have to go back as far as the Civil War to feel vulnerable because of the color of my skin anymore. The last time I felt like this, I wrote my blog, “Come walk with me: I am Trayvon.” Feel free to read it sometime. And here we are today. While we’re arguing about where and if a particular flag made of ‘stagnant’ material should wave FREELY in the air…I’m sitting here, flesh and blood, contemplating my own freedom…lack of freedom. Freedom? Riding the Virtual Underground Railroad of 2015.  (more…)

Let the Sun go down on me Elton…just for a minute. It’s hot!

It’s January 4, 2014, 2:14 in the morning and I’m up writing on my laptop because I can’t sleep. I woke up rubbing my arms a little and felt something a little different.

IMG_1627Yep, I have a heat rash. When there is no escaping the heat I knew this was bound to happen or at least a good possibility. So, I decided to get up and try and get some fresh air. I’m writing from a sofa out on the back porch. Tomorrow, meaning Monday, first thing in the morning, we will head to Moyamba District for one day. It’s a Province and I’m not sure if it’s going to be any better there. I thought about going out to the front porch, near the ocean breeze but I didn’t want to wake Sylvia up…Mary’s sister that went through the war. I didn’t want her to hear the front door open in the middle of the night, which is something and a sound she may not be used to, and have a flashback. That may not be good for her or me. (more…)

And so another day….

And so another day has come and is now heading out the backdoor to make room for tomorrow…Friday..

Yes, I was impassioned the last time I wrote, yes, I told the truth the last time I wrote and yes, I wrote how I felt….yes…yes…yes…

And so what did I learn today? I learned, once again, that no matter how impassioned I am, no matter how much truth I tell, and no matter how I feel at any given moment, I am always amazed at the blessings that surprise me, when I least expect it … but ones that are so welcoming and moving. (more…)

Published in: on September 14, 2012 at 7:12 AM  Leave a Comment  
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Another Day of being Black in the White Public World

So, here I am again…asking anyone who wants to hear, do you want to know what it is like to be black in the public white world? I say public white world because the experiences I have had in this world are not the experiences that I had in the military world growing up as a military brat. In the military, there was one common goal…to secure the safety of America and everyone who lives here. Rank also mattered more than color…at times….But any way, that’s another blog for another time… Right now, I want to share with you what happened to ME last night… (more…)

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