Money, Power, Disrespect

I know I’m late, but I started watching the new Stars drama “Power” last night. I know most of y’all were so busy watching Omari Harwick that you didn’t even see the show. I was watching the show. Not Omari. I ain’t even notice Omari and his rippling muscles and tattoos and glistening nekkid skin. Nope not even a little bit.

I’m only one episode into the series but I’ve got beef already. Not because he’s going to step out on his wife with the cute Puerto Rican blast from the past. That’s wack but I’m not surprised. MY beef is with Naturi Naughton’s character, “Tasha St. Patrick ”.

Why in the name of Black Jesus was she jilling off in the back seat for the driver in all her pretty brown skinned glory? Lawd. I cant. She needs to have a seat. With her clothes on. And her legs closed. She should have carried her ass home if she was mad. I don’t know if she was listening to Yonce and got confused but Partition is about rolling UP the partition. Not rolling it down. Aint nothing flawless about being petty and childish enough to put on a freak show for someone that works for your husband because you didn’t get the attention you wanted.

Not only are these hoes not loyal they aren’t even smart or strategic. Maybe it’s me, but I would have sidled up right next to my husband, introduced myself to the mystery woman as his wife, gushed over her dress and gave that chick a silent warning a la nivea “don’t mess with my man, imma be the one to bring it to ya”

Don’t act like you don’t remember that song. You remember, and that chick would have remembered too when she was blasting Alanis Morisette’s Ironic and crying into her Hagan daas that night.

Maybe it’s me but I think that if you marry a man in a seat of power you must also rise to that level of power. Ghost shouldn’t have had to tell Tasha to stop looking like a chick desperate to get into a club he owns. She should known to put on a sexy yet respectable dress instead of putting it all out there. It’s not rocket science and the feminists can be mad at me if they want to but how you dress matters. If you dress like a doctor do people not expect you to be a medically trained professional? Same goes for freakem dresses. People will treat you like a freak.

It makes no sense that she would rather her husband remain a drug dealer to amass more wealth when they clearly have more than they need to build a legit legacy. These heffas love money but can’t even stay focused enough to stop distracting their husbands with BS. Nothing good can come of Tasha’s antics.

“Power” is just a show but the problem extends beyond fictional characters. Real life wifes are out here struggling to get it together too. If Tameka “Tiny” Harris doesn’t sit her $5 ass down TI is gonna make change! All the trouble they have been into minus the gun charges that sent TIP to jail have been centered around some childish, petty shit Tiny did. Jacking him off in the visiting station, ecstasy pills in the Maybach , kee-keeing it up with Floyd Mayweather, and now she wrote a ratchet girl anthem “WTFUGD?”. It’s the new “earn me”. Side chicks and baby mamas everywhere are changing their ringtones this very instant.

I’m no relationship expert by any means. I’ve only been in two that mattered and one of them was an epic fail. We’ll see how this new one pans out. However, I do know deacons’ wives and first ladies aren’t the only ones with roles to play. If you marry a powerful man you have to stop thinking like a down ass chick and be a boss chick. Fighting for attention and disrespecting your man in public is never a good idea but it’s even worse if you’re in the spotlight and/or have a lot to lose.

What do y’all think? Does money and power require relationship parameters and expectations to change? Am I missing something? Are Tasha and Tiny justified?

Fat is not a bad word

“I drew this picture because I wanted to analyze how unnecessary it is to collapse a heroine into one specific mold,” said Trumble, “to give them all the same sparkly fashion, the same tiny figures, and the same homogenized plastic smile. My experience of female role models both in culture and in life has shown me that there is no mold for what makes someone a role model.”

Trumble’s illustration is of iconic women; Rosa Parks, Anne Frank, Marie Curie, Anne Franke etc. I saw it yesterday and thought it was cool and terrible all at once. Cool because any bit of male feminism is cool in my book.  His point sheds light on thoughts and feelings women face every day; the idea that as a woman you can win a Nobel prized and still not escape how you measure up on the standards of beauty. break through barriers in your field and still

 I’m vain and happen to value “pretty”.  I’m also the mother of a very serious 6-year-old girl, Eden. I do my best to raise her with girl power’s optimism and focus on her brains and character rather than aesthetics.  I am silently grateful for her interest in cars and robots rather than princesses and baby dolls. She’s  smart, charming, adventurous, and very serious- nothing like what I imagined a daughter of mine would be.  She’s perfect. On the way home from school I noticed she had gotten uncomfortable.  I turned the music off and waited. She squirmed and remained silent. When pressed, my sweet introvert blurted out that Beyonce has said “fat” in her song and fat is a bad word.  I explained to her that fat isn’t a bad word and she could still love Beyonce because my feelings weren’t hurt. She quickly requested I play King Bey’s  “End of Time”.

I’m a card carrying member of the fat girl crew. Eden’s body type does not mirror mine. People stop and ask me how she got so muscular. Those same folks are surprised I complete Couch25k workouts on a regular basis. Eden once said she wanted her stomach to go “go all the way to street” because being fat like Mommy was a good thing. The world of public school has clearly taught her something different. I started wondering what the world is teaching her about women. What does she think makes us valuable? So I asked her what she loves most about being a girl, can someone be fat and pretty,  if pretty is important all, and how you decide what makes someone pretty. Check her answers:

What does it mean to be a girl: “It means wonderful times… what’s awesome about being a girl is I can play any time and anywhere!”

Is it important to be pretty?: “No, not really. It’s important to be myself. I’m pretty but that’s not important.”

What is pretty:  “When you look neat. Their hair is nice and their clothes are nice. If you smile you look pretty.”

I was nervous my know-it-all had bought into the bullshit. Seems like, at least she knows the “right” answers.

Thank goodness she hasn’t bought into the bullshit. Can you buy into pretty politics with your self esteem in tact as a little black girl? Does my penchant for wigs and make-up make me a hypocrite? I’m not sure. I miss the girl power messages of the 90s where the messages weren’t isolated. There was no pressure to choose between pretty politics and power plays.

 In a world where little girls are given doe-eyes princesses, impossibly proportioned Barbie and toy babies to mother how do we get our girls to womanhood with the concept of girl power still in tact?  Can I legitimately push girl power in all it’s glory while wearing 5 inch heels and 20-inch bundles of Brazilian hair? 

Building A Girl

I’m a feminist who wanted a princess for a daughter. Before you drag me on Twitter let me be clear. I wanted a kick ass hero of her own story princess. Throughout my pregnancy I daydreamed about tutus and twist outs and imagined a prissy princess stumbling around in my pumps. Sugar and spice and everything nice is what I expected.

Thank goodness I didn’t get what I expected. I am mother to a 6-year-old girl, Eden. She wants to be a rockstar and an engineer when she grows up. Her current loves are Pizza, tap dancing, and the Spy Kids movie. I am silently grateful for her interest in cars and robots rather than princesses and baby dolls. She’s smart, charming, adventurous, and very serious- nothing like what I imagined a daughter of mine would be.  She’s perfect. Today she said, “I can’t wait to be a grown up so I can invent things.”  After explaining that children can invent things she walked around my mother’s house looking for problems she could invent a solution for. The result is “The Quiet-n-ater”,  vacuum that sucks quietly because sometimes vacuums can be too loud. She decided since you can inhale strongly without making sound that she should be able to invent the “Quiet-n-ater”. According to her its going to take a long time to invent and we shouldn’t rush her.

This has been an interesting week to parent a girl interested in STEM because of the women over at GoldieBlox .  When the GoldieBlox video went viral last week I was excited.  Actually, I was giddy. STEM based toys for girls? Girl power is back? YES!  If you haven’t seen the adorable commercial, check it out:

A lot of moms, bloggers,  and women in STEM didn’t share my excitement. Glosswitch said it was sexist. Some say the instruction led play isn’t teaching engineering at all. Others say the add was too anti-pink, that it suggests a girl can’t be into princesses and STEM.

I attempted undergrad several times at one point I studied my 2nd love, marketing and graphic design. My natural response is, “this commercial is genius”. All press is good press and people ARE talking.  Also, relax. It’s a commercial. Are they leveraging the 90’s Girl Power mantra, pink, princesses, and the standard Eurocentric idea of beauty? Is the interactive book and construction set starring Goldie, a blonde girl who “loves to build” over priced and a bit simplistic? Absolutely.  I disagree that the toy excludes “girly-girls” and is sexist.  The toys themselves are pink, purple, and yellow. Some of the girls had on tutus.  I’m sure it is princess approved. The point is they can be MORE than princesses. Not that they can’t be princesses at all.

At the end of the day an engineering student created a marketable toy that would have appealed to her as a kid. There IS a huge gap in the marketplace and GoldieBlox is the first thing I’ve seen in a long time that even begins to attempt to build the gap and get the press and backing to start a real conversation about girls in STEM.  I don’t really care that the doll is “Goldie”. The commercial is adorable and the toy costs was less than an American Girl Doll or Barbie dreamhouse.  I am here for GoldieBlox. Girls involved in STEM by any means necessary.  My mother was on the team that invented all waiting for Bell Labs. Yes, that call waiting. I work in IT. Eden’s dad is a super nerd. I am here for creative geniuses in a STEM environment. I am here for girls. All girls. In Tutus and firemen’s hats. Or both.

Last week during one of my random interview I asked Eden what she thought it meant to be a girl. Her answer: “It means wonderful times in my life… what’s awesome about being a girl is I can play anytime and anywhere!” Right on Eden. Clearly being a girl means you get to play. Kudos to GoldieBlox for spotlighting a dialogue that obviously needs to be had on both a large and small scale and for inspiring me to find more STEM based toys and activities (regardless of which gender they are marketed to) for my future engineer.

Women in STEM, would you have played with GoldieBlox as a kid? Parents, are you going to be giving any of these away as gifts this holiday season? Let me know in the comments.

Wives are homemade Mac + Cheese

All weekend people asked if I had seen the latest episode of Scandal. Yes, I saw “Everything’s Coming Up Mellie” (Yes they intended that horrible, insensitive pun.) and its brutal rape scene on Thursday with the rest of y’all. I’ve actually seen the episode more than once. The now infamous rape scene deserves to be written about  and talked about but I can’t. I wasn’t ready to watch it and I’m not ready to discuss it. The end.

However, something else stuck out to me from this episode. This:

I AM HIS WIFE

“I AM HIS WIFE.”

American television has never been particularly kind to wives. Their characters are rarely fully developed. Wives are written as either the pillar of “perfection” or the insecure, flighty nag.  Mellie’s character is complex and has been since her introduction in the first season. As a former actress, there is no character on Shonda Rhimes’ Scandal,  that I’d rather play than Mellie Grant. No, not even Olivia Pope.

It’s not because I have some big moral stance against Olivia’s character. She’s dynamic and I’m not judging. I have been a side-chick. It was the sweetest, most care-free, sexually gratifying, and fun relationship of my life to date.   He was mostly everything I thought I wanted in a boyfriend: cute, kind, creative, go-getter who had hood sensibilities AND an inclination for nerdy things. I loved him. Then I found out his live in girlfriend who he had been dating since their freshman year in high school and fathered three children with loved him too.

WIFE : Side-chick :: Homemade Mac & cheese : Restaurant Soul Food

If wives and side-chicks were food, a wife would be your favorite home-cooked meal, on your favorite plate with your favorite dessert. A side-chick would 3.5 star dining at the newest soul food restaurant in town. They are both good. That home cooked meal was cooked especially for you with love and Peach cobbler a la mode. There’s really no comparison. I’m not saying wives are perfect.  There is no escaping the fact that Fitz and Mellie have a dysfunctional  relationship. She seems to trigger all of his childhood dramas in a way he can’t get over. Yes, he claims to want nothing more than to divorce her. I doubt it. While we live in a world where marriage rates are low and divorce rates are high, there is something to be said about vows and promises.  For Richer or poorer, better or worse… Til death do us part.

Wives KNOW who they’re married to.

Wives know. They always know.  Mellie knew Fitz was a killer long before Verna. Sally didn’t bat not one single eyelash when Mellie explained that her husband had gotten handsy with her aide. Know why? Because she knew damn well her husband was gay. Cyrus asked if James had his morning shake because his body chemistry was off. Because wives know. She knows his family. She know what side of the bed he sleeps on, if he leaves the water running while he brushes his teeth.

I had no idea I was his secret. He later said it was planned that way. “I’m selfish. I knew you would leave if you knew. I wanted you to be in love before I told you.”   My scarlet letter lover’s live-in girlfriend (In Texas that’s a WIFE) knew he was a cheater. I’m sure she knew the tell for his lies. Where all his secrets were. All I knew was the mask. That initial… please-love-me-because-I’m-so-dope front we all put on for someone new. No amount of neatly wrapped lies and half-truths can dissolve that level of familiarity and experience. A wife means history and no third-party entering that situation can compete with that. Period.  

 

 

 

#TeamWives

I believe in the sanctity of marriage. I’ve never been a wife. But I’ve been cheated on. What’d I do on the other side? I did what any “good” woman would do. I got drunk in a bar with some of my best friends. Cried. Cussed the lying, cheating bastard out. Slept with him that two last times (don’t judge me) and broke it off.  Every week someone says its hypocritical to hate adultery and love Scandal… Simple bitches make simple points? IDK. Yes, Olivia Pope is a side-piece who creeps around with a married man. Week after week, millions of Gladiators root for Olivia. There are fan pages dedicated to her adulterous relationship. Does her character’s likability make her adultery acceptable? Doubt it. I think the fact that her character is fictional  and Fitz is her only major flaw have more to do with it than anything else.  Either way, last week’s episode was a game changer for a lot of people because of its rape scene.  For me it reaffirmed some choices I made years ago. I was unknowingly a side-chick and it was fun and gratifying in a lot of ways. It’s also very Scarecrow in the Wiz… YOU. CAN’T. WIN.  I’m not about that life. If Olivia Pope wants to build monuments to Whitney Houston’s Waiting to Exhale character with her life choices … good for her. I’m cool on that. 

Happy marriage or not: “show up for me” takes “earn me” any day. Show up for me is backed by a promise that was already made. Earn me is a desperate ultimatum.  Mellie doesn’t need a special phone. She knows all of his dirty secrets and takes “over a cliff” and gladiating to a whole new level. Does Mellie like power? Yes. But she also dropped everything in her life to support Fitz. Period.

What do you think? Does Mellie love power more than she loves Fitz? Are you #TeamOlitz? #TeamMellie? Have you been a side-chick? 

Context + Cluelessness

I have always talked too much and been a know-it-all.  As I barrel towards 30 I have a new awareness of those facts. Awareness. Not change in behavior.  You know… knowing is half the battle. I’m working on it. Black Jesus knows my heart.

Anyway, last weekend I was drinking wine in a small, cozy bar that didn’t serve Pinot Grigio or Riesling only house Chardonnay (and I think they played Marvin Gaye- word to Big Sean)  and also has free chili dogs on Wednesday (gross.com). In between the bar stool kareoke of a fantastically drunken white man and visits from our sundress-wearing-in 47 degree-weather waitress I was trying to cheer up a friend and have semi-meaningful conversation.

Friend is a dope grad student studying fine art at SMU and we were discussing his sense of responsibility as a black, male artist to create meaningful work that does not under mind their experience and still create the work he feels compelled to create. I retorted with a spewing, rambling monologue of how I did not feel that responsibility. That as a black woman I felt all my work both black and womanist by default. I wasn’t making art for people that don’t relate and I could care less how they interpret it. I said all that thinking I was a bad ass. Dumb ass.

We also discussed whether Kanye is a genius ( I vote yes. Friend doesn’t object or endorse.) At the point in time we had those two converstations they weren’t related. Then I saw Kanye’s new concert merch…

                          Photo: @virgilabloh’s Instagram

All confederate flag and grim reaper skeleton errythang.  I get it. He’s an artist first and he doesn’t a single fuck how y’all look at it. Kanye has decided his vision is genius and his art will speak for itself. Those of you that don’t get it will either get it later or ain’t on his level. Period.

He’s black. Male. American. Approaching his work from a fine art perspective- which lots of people in his very own demographic don’t have an understanding of. I suddenly understood how the framework of context and execution could be EVERYTHING. How important it is that as an artist I create the work that calls me but also cause no harm to my own community. Leave no room for misunderstanding the message. No room for error.

It seemed so clear that the artist has a responsibility whether s/he accepts it or not. The viewers WILL swallow you up in the responsibility of whatever social boundries they (and you) reside in whether you like it or not. Black, male, endorsing the confederate flag? Oh ok. So… Kanye is cool and he says this is ok. Which means it’s ok for me to wear it too says the little suburban white kid. Can I say Nigga now too?

These peices paired with “No New Slaves” and Kanye’s speeches/interviews all wrapped neatly in a multimedia gallery installation would’ve been dope. Critics would be applauding him for taking risks and calling social constructs into question. As t-shirts and tote bags it falls short.

This brings several things to the forefront for me. 1. I still have no idea what I’m talking about and 2. I need to alter the way I work. If I’m going to write little black girl anthems and love stories for women who are difficult to love then I need to frame it for both those tat already understand and the bystanders who have no idea where to begin. 3. I like bars. 4. I think Le Artiste might be my Agent of Fortune. I always have something to write when we depart.