I really have to thank God every day that I am not who I used to be on so many levels. Any girls/women in messed up/abusive relationships, I feel for you—mostly because I used to be you….
My Joy and I witnessed a domestic situation between two strangers late last night. And she’s talking about how scared she is… and why this and why that…
Eventually, I had to pull over and tell her to never let anyone talk to her like that and how I would not have let him do anything to her and ask her if she wanted me to pray over her so she wouldn’t be scared (My Joy doesnt like to pray yet, but she said yes lol). But I know from experience and witnessing other people’s experiences that it could have been more tragic.
I tell my youth all the time that “leadership is self-control” and I’m thankful that the fool who rolled up on the side of my car last night trying to get to another woman calmed down and displayed an ounce of self-control when I addressed him and had enough sense to at least apologize to my four year old watching him in a terror thinking he was trying to get to her mother.
I’m reflecting on how my own situation could have looked to my family and friends and strangers. Or how it could have looked to a child like my own. And I can only think about how we have to do better in the way of creating stronger families and villages. We have to do better in the way of how we talk and communicate with one another. We have to do better with controlling our anger and not letting it build and fester.
How do we fix this cycle of broken relationships and heal generational curses?
I’m glad I was able to calm My Joy down… but I’m still torn about a solution…
UPDATE: I named this post “A Laying of God’s Hand,” to pay tribute to the Ntozake Shange monologue of similar name from the choreopoem, “For colored girls who have considered suicide/When the rainbow is enuf.” Not only does this piece of art tackle the generational curse of abuse, but it serves as a timeless-albeit fictional-reminder of the oftentimes fatal damage that can result from toxic relationships. Additionally, it pays homage to all the people who may be in abusive relationships and are searching for a laying of peace-bearing hands. Occasionally, our abusers lay this kind of hand after the abuse. So, in essence, the title is also a soft prayer that if our significant others/abusers are not consistently laying this type of life-giving hand on us physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually that we find the strength to leave them or the vulnerability to ask for help.
Please share the following resources for helping victims of abuse:
On the L tryin not to think about splattered blood; the tears shed in this seat; or worry why we’ve been sitting here so long.
Rest in peace, Jessica Hampton.
On my way; homebound. Praying nothing jumps off as I pass the Green Line. Who knows how many bullets have flown by
this very spot within a week’s time.
Could be Bryson in my ears, got me in my feelings. Willing to bet it’s not as sirens blaring and blue lights flaring pass us. It’s dangerous in the city. Wishing that the violence would one day past us.
Love and hate my town. Love picnics by the lake, the food truck fests and how our mindset is to never stay down for too long. Hate hearing these broken records on the news about chilrdren dying to gun play. Say now, isn’t it time for a new song?
The footage and updates of the #JusticeForLaquan protest happening right now on the streets of downtown Chicago have me deep in my feelings tonight (Feelings of disgust, abandonment, and overall distrust for my Black elected officials AND feelings of worry for tonight’s foot soldiers as I’m praying no more of them will be retaliated against for practicing their rights). One question has been weighing heavy on my mind: where were our (insert: ESPECIALLY Black) elected officials tonight???!!! I was not in attendance, but I’m curious as to which ones were and weren’t there since I KNOW they’ll be door knocking & “peace protesting” come election time. I (and surely others) just want safe neighborhoods equipped with safe, fully-funded schools; empathetic police districts and officers that are grown from the struggle/community; a damn trauma center. So if you’re reading this (elected officials) and your agenda sounds dissimilar, don’t come door knocking this election season. At least not at my/or any of my family’s homes–because you ain’t getting our vote=our money to sit still on these issues or stay at home when the next protest happens.
Crazy quilts are unique and innovative quilts created from scraps of materials. My hope is for a world that uses all the scraps, rough cut diamonds and hidden treasures. I blog to make IPOC authors and their works more accessible.