One year is cause for celebration

I finished re-reading a friend's post on a wedding she attended and her feelings regarding her decision to have a civil ceremony. I thought about the realness she spoke of that exists after the newness fades. I have often thought about having a 10 year vow renewal - something simple - perhaps beach front with just a few friends and family. Thinking on this stirs up a bit of excitement but I know more importantly that I need to focus on my "now" success.

I have only been married three years but in that short time I realize that every year of marriage that my husband and I complete is cause for celebration and REAL reflection. I don't mean the traditional anniversary gift and night out together but taking some time and appreciating the fact that "we made it" another year. I heard that one celebrity couple renews their vows every year to put them in remembrance of the commitment they made. They do it with no one looking on and then have a celebration with their family and friends. The core of that struck me. You don't need to wait for a 10 or 25 year mark to renew your vows. You need to keep yourself in remembrance as often as possible. Celebrate each year of success (just the two of you). On that special day, think about: what we can do better this year, what new goals we have and simply let the other know how much we appreciate them.

Maybe most of you do this but speaking for myself, I want to look at my anniversary in a different light. I want to make that ten year mark a celebration of 10 years of celebrating life together.

From my Video Twenties to Thirty Something & Med School Bound

So I should be working on the second part of my previous post but have found neither the mind set nor cohesiveness to put it together. I was getting ready for my routine job of washing dishes, picking up every one's things off of the floor, couch and whatever inconceivable spot they managed to stick something when I thought about sharing a little bit of my future ambitions.

Picture it, Harlem, New York, 1984... just kidding. This isn't an episode of the Golden Girls (sorry, you have to know the show to understand that dry joke). Seriously, growing up I wanted nothing else but to be a doctor and a writer. Actually, I figured I would be a doctor who wrote books... but nothing to do with medicine (go figure!). As all of us do in life, I was faced with decisions and didn't make all the best ones. Instead of pre-med at Columbia, I started a two year school with a four month old baby. Without proper guidance, I thought that med school was no longer an option for me and looked for a short way to making money to support my new responsibility. I spent a year there before deciding I needed to be in a four year university where my "brilliance" could be put to use (hey, all those teachers and family members can't be wrong - lol). I worked full time for another year before starting my four year program.

I was now 22 and focused more on the writing part of my hopes and dreams. I was undeclared and bouncing around thoughts of a major until one day it came to me. I wish I could say that there were trumpets blowing and lights shining down from the heavens giving me this grand epiphanic experience... but it was definitely on the lack luster side of the scale. I loved movies, could always pick apart plots before a film would even get underway (I annoyed many of my fellow movie going friends with that one) and thought, "Wow, I could do this!" And at that moment, I had my major: "Media Communications specializing in Film & Video Production". The early part of my studies was in screenwriting and film history (I later graduated with a minor in history- world not film) - it was great. My junior and senior years focused more on the actual production part of filmmaking.

During all this time, I never shook my love of medicine. I didn't speak of it. It almost felt like I shouldn't speak about it but let someone bring up the subject and the little fire in my stomach would flare up. I felt like my time was really over and needed to focus on media. I guess I should have realized that I was still unsure... but hey that's what your twenties are for. Some are sure what they want to do with their lives from day one and some of us want to do so much that our trouble is what to tackle first! I was studying film production, writing a thesis on the Draft Riots of 1863 for my history honors program, researching the effects of HIV/AIDS on Black women for my Scholars fellowship, tutoring/teaching writing, and on top of that, I was trying to think about how to spearhead the next great woman's movement (still working on that one). I should have known my life was anything but ordinary. Anyway, I finally graduated and again faced bringing another little person into the world. I was now 26 with two children doing a little freelance camera work here and there and of all things, teaching to make a living.

I don't want to gloss over this next section because it has a lot to do with where I am now. I spent the next two years of my life not knowing what I was doing. I was often challenged by my dad (also the pastor of my church) to make moves in my field. I didn't understand it the first year and a half but I was frozen with fear. Even though I did take little jobs here and there, I didn't let myself go further. I kept looking at what I thought I didn't know compared to my peers. By the time I really understood that it was fear staring me in the face and that failing at something was better than not doing anything, I was on my way to my third child. It was a rough pregnancy and I could barely move let alone take over the world but my inside wo(man) had changed. By my 28th birthday I had begun offering professional video services and worked freelance on the projects of many of my peers. Whenever I face a new challenge (on any subject or level) and fear rears its ugly head, I ask a simple question, "What's the worst that could happen?" and the answer is always trivial at best... the person says no, i don't get what i want, i have to try again... oooh! Sounds silly, right? but these silly things hold many of us back... not me... not anymore. Now let's back track a little.

During my pregnancy, I had to stay five weeks in the hospital where my baby girl was born. I came to really love and respect my ObGyn. We talked often about life and family. I talked as well with many of the nurses and patient care aids (many of whom were studying to become nurses) and med students. If you're thinking about that fire in my stomach, you are so reading me right now. During one of my follow up appointments, I expressed the desire to possibly go back to school to be a physician's assistant. My Doctor said that it was a great idea, but he said "I hope you don't think you're too old for med school?" I felt like he could see right through me. I just smiled. He went on to tell me how he knew many people much older than me and with far more difficulties in terms of home life and responsibility. He even went on to tell me that his own wife started one career and went back to school and was also an ObGyn. It was a turn around for me.

I went back to school and began taking two of the seven classes I needed to qualify for medical school - it was not easy. My baby was not even one but I stuck it out for one semester. After another heart to heart talk with my dad, I realized something. One, I needed to finish something I started, video production and after a talk with God, I realized two, I was not in some race against time. I had already conquered the big "F" (fear) I knew that there was nothing for me to fear in anything. So what happens if I don't become the top documentary filmmaker? nothing. What happens if I never put my ideas down on paper and film the ones I'm passionate about? I'll have regret. I no longer believe in failure. I think failure is not trying something. There is an opportunity to learn from everything we do so there can never be failure in "doing". I can live with something turning out differently from what what I expected, but I can't live with the "what ifs". We have to stop thinking that we have to be #1 in everything. In some areas, we're meant to help people get to #1 in other areas we're meant to be #1. Life is a co-op. I will keep working my creative talents and cranking out those film projects and I will work towards obtaining my MD.

I am now 30 and getting ready to take another two classes towards medical school. My dad teased me once and asked if I was going to be a doctor at 50? You know something, I will. Although I want to be done with medical school by 36, I'm not pressed for time. Some people would look at my life and think that there's nothing so special about it. I look rather "content" and they would be right about the latter. I'm content because I know I'm doing everything I am suppose to be doing now. I'm working with what's on my plate, scoping out what's in front of me and gleaning what I need from what's behind me. I don't need to look busy. I have much work ahead making sure my family is straight and God already promised He has my back with everything else. Fear knows it has no place anymore in my house... and don't let him take root in yours. I have a lot to offer this world and I've only begun to use my talents. Maybe I won't be a doctor before I'm 50 but guess what? From the words of another mom who went back to school to become an MD: "I'm going to be 50 anyway!

Puerto Plata part I: "Self Preservation"

It's been twenty four hours since I touched down on American soil.
Honestly, although my body is present, my heart is still in the Dominican Republic. I spent five days and four nights in the beautiful city of Puerto Plata. I traveled with my soon to be 83 year old grandmother (don't let the number fool you - she's got a lot of bite left in her bark). As a child, I never vacationed - unless you count that one trip to Florida when I was nine... and no I DIDN'T go to Disney. My grandmother worked hard and didn't know the meaning of getting away. This was a special trip because it was our first trip anywhere together, her first time on a plane and her first time out of the country. Getting her to go was (excuse the cliche) like pulling teeth. Her biggest problem was the airplane. Let's just say that while she was amazed by the flight, she never took her eyes off the wing. With light hearts, we arrived at our resort - The Grand Oasis Marien. This resort is already beautiful... no GORGEOUS and they are about to open the new additions at the end of next month. This was my first vacation without my family and might I add - MUCH NEEDED.

As I began my five day - four night get away, I thought about my grandmother and how much stress she has endured in her life. Even as a young girl, I knew that I wanted a different life for myself and my family. I wanted pictures on my wall and little to no drama (without going into much detail, we dealt with all kind of "ictions & isms" in my house. Couple that with four generations under one roof and needless to say it was at best, explosive). A decade plus some later, and here I lay under the same sun I see in New York but in someone else's backyard paradise. I lay thinking how I've already done more for myself in terms of enjoying life than my grandmother ever allowed herself to do. While I appreciate all that she has done for me, I know that in order to keep my world right, I have to have time for myself away from the usual. We "worry" (even if we don't admit to it or choose to use that word) about what we will do with our lives, what our children will do with their lives, money, relationships, family, possessions but too many of us don't take time to relax and take care of ourselves. We forget that if we don't take care of ourselves, we will be of no good use to our spouses, children or other significant loved ones. With this very much in mind, I lay on the beach, by the pool, took long walks, had an afternoon at the spa and relaxed.

More than a Scarf

A little history on headwraps.

You can preview this book through google.

Getting Back to Our Roots without Tearing Them Out

Besides my weakened edges, (brought on by the tight pontytails of my tween years) I have been blessed with a full head of growing hair. As a child, I had hairstyles consisting of variations of one to four ponytails, braids pinned to the top of my head, tons of bobby pins and lets not forget the inches of ribbon hanging from each braid (my grandmother bought them in bulk). My grandmother was unskilled in the art of cornrowing so I was instead subjected to painful combing on a daily basis. Washing was what I could only describe as a suffocating mini-drama. The early years had me laid across our washing machine (it sat next to our porcelain double sink) with my head hanging under the raised faucet. The later years saw me standing over the deep sink while my long tresses and steam stifled the flow of air to my lungs (I was well into my teens/early adulthood before I could wash my hair in the sink without having to carefully think through each breath). My grandmother had done everything under the sun to her hair (she described it as having "fried and died" her hair) and she refused to let anyone get near me with even a THOUGHT of a hot comb let alone anything that came out of a lab - that was until about the fifth grade.

Somewhere around my eleventh year, my grandmother could no longer take my anguishing cries for mercy and with much pain in her heart, sent me to a trusted beautician for a "kiddie perm". I thought it was neat that a fine toothed comb could run from root to end without losing any teeth! I was able to get the "cute" shirley temple styles and I didn't look like the "sun" when I washed my hair (This was what my cousin said during our childhood to describe my hair after it was washed. He annoyed me with that). Beyond this teasing, I was never made to feel like there was something wrong with my hair. On the contrary, I was always told that my hair was beautiful. I heard this from family, friends and strangers (I point this out for a reason).

Fast forward three years. I am now in high school and have already grown tired of the process to which my hair had been subjected. I was not very good at taking care of my hair and had experienced breakage at the very back of my hair at least once every year since I had begun relaxing it. I decided that I would reclaim my natural roots. I had become very taken by locs and approached my grandmother with the idea of letting me loc up. Let's just say the conversation including the words "not" & "under my roof." I was unfortunately ignorant to what going natural meant. Before long, my hair was at battle with itself and after about four or five months, Dark n Lovely prevailed. It was very disheartening but I resigned myself to the burning of the "no lye" relaxer and the $10 Dominican wash and set to seal the deal.

Fast forward to college and I was finally on my way to my first set of locs (i have had two sets and will undoubtedly don a third... maybe even a fourth during my life). The first few months were trying but patience prevailed and I soon had the natural beautiful locs I had always wanted. Now, due to some personal reasons and direction from my Father in heaven, I had to do some searching and went through some cutting. During that time I have rocked everything from a big afro, twists, a boy cut and even a short curly fro. This brings me to the heart of this blog.

Having lived on both sides of the fence, I know that natural is the way for me. I love myself in every way and don't feel the pressure that some black people feel to have to straighten their hair. While saying that, I in no way look down on the sista who wants to press, perm or rock her weave. It is a blatant fact that black people have been systematically made to feel inferior to the whiter world in which we live. So many of us are brainwashed to the extent that we perpetuate these thoughts into our own children. I have heard black people make comments, in the presence of children, about "good" hair, nappy hair, and many other ignorant statements that point to natural hair being less than desirable. I despise any action that results in any person feeling inadequate in any way! You might say that because of this any one with true consciousness should embrace their natural self and reject the trend of pressing and perming because of where and why these things are in existence. I hear that and in many ways agree... but where's the balance?

I am a woman. I am a black woman. I am a black, conscious woman... and guess what? sometimes I like to rock a headwrap with a skirt and sometimes I like to rock an afro with my converse and then there are those days where I like to put on a pretty dress with four inch heels... I LOVE self expression. STOP thinking that every woman walking around in a weave and extensions is closeting self hate. Contrary to the stereotype, I have plenty of friends with long, thick hair who occasionally get a weave just so they don't have to do their hair during the summer or while on vacation. I'm aware that this is often the exception and not the rule but our attitudes have to change. Don't define me or others by your issues. I'm tired of us beating up ourselves. LOVE yourself. Teach our youth to love who God made them. Love your brothers and sisters. If we could just do that, we wouldn't spend so much time tearing each other down and we would really be able to reach that sister or brother who has been taught to think that they are imperfect the way God made them. Let's question conformity but let's not get so caught up in our personal causes that they cease to inspire change and instead become destructive.

Who Do I Say I Am?

Woman, Artist, Wife, Mother, Daughter, Friend, Future = Amoi

I often reflect on the different components of my life. I think about what I have accomplished, what I have in the works and what I have yet only dared to conceive. It is easy to be looked at and defined by others simply based on a role you play. It is up to you to accept that definition or to define yourself by the sum of your parts. My life is just beginning and I will not let anyone define me. I am the sum of my parts and what I do today builds tomorrow... What are you doing today?