Why all the indignation over Thanksgiving shopping?

For many years now, some retail stores have advertised special, pre-Black Friday sales on Thanksgiving Day. I remember getting up early and hitting some of those sales before getting home and settling in for a day of food and football. Back then, the stores were only open until early afternoon, so that employees could go home for Thanksgiving dinner, too. These days, though, stores are open all day into the evening.

Over the last few years, it’s been a war between these retail stores and those family-loving folks who are indignant over retail workers being forced to work instead of spending the day with their families. From the stores’ position, Thanksgiving Day has become one of the most popular shopping days of the year. After all, this is a capitalist economy and profit is the only thing that matters. Except to the folks who are adamant that the day should be about family only. That is what the day’s all about anyway… isn’t it?

WRONG. Let’s be honest. Thanksgiving is a made up, let’s-create-a-reason-to-gorge-ourselves-with-food-and-not-go-to-work-holiday. There was no coming together in peace for the Pilgrims and the Indians. We came, we took, we conquered, and we destroyed. That is worth celebrating? No… it sure is not. Thanksgiving ranks right up there with Columbus Day as one of the most perverted, insensitive, downright ridiculous holidays. But I digress…

According to the United States Department of Labor Bureau of Labor Statistics (http://www.bls.gov/ooh/sales/retail-sales-workers.htm), in 2012, retail workers numbered over 4.6 million and earned on average barely over $20K per year. Many work part time, with few benefits. These are hard-working people, proud and strong, trying to create a life for themselves and their families. And while that, in and of itself, might lead one to think that the stores should close and give them some well-deserved time at home with their families, it’s just not that easy.

Working on Thanksgiving, a nationally-recognized paid holiday, means that those who are working receive their normal wage plus holiday pay. If they happen to be one of the lucky full time employees, it means double time. I can personally attest that in my younger years, I always volunteered to work not only on Thanksgiving, but every paid holiday possible. Why? Because I was making minimum wage and trying to survive. Working on a paid holiday meant not only extra money on my paycheck, but employers would often provide a free lunch for employees who worked that day (another savings to me) or provide other bonuses or incentives. Judge me if you will, but that money and those other incentives mattered.

And what about those people who don’t have families or simply aren’t close to their family? I live thousands of miles away from any of my family. For the first time in seven years, I’m actually going home for Thanksgiving this year. NOT because it’s so important for me to be with family on this specific day of the year, though. I’m going because I found a cheap flight and I don’t have to use any vacation time from work. But in years past, being away from my family was tough for me not because I wasn’t hanging out with family, but because everyone else around me treated me like some kind of pathetic nomad because of it.

But let’s get to the real truth. If you need to circle a specific day on the calendar in order to make time for your family, then that’s on you. And that’s not meant to be judgmental. If spending the day with your family is important, then please do that. Do whatever it is that is right for you. Stay out of the stores. I have no problem with that. Or shop if you want. That’s ok too.

However, if you’re someone who believes that the day is meant to be with your family, and if you feel personally affronted that other people are working their retail jobs… please do not go out to a restaurant for Thanksgiving brunch/lunch/dinner. Do not go out to the movies or to a jazz club or a bar. Please do not make that last-minute run to the supermarket because you forgot whatever it was that you forgot. Don’t call a cab to get anywhere. ALL of those people have families too. 

I deserve!

I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I don't think I've ever been the normal size for a girl my age. I was shopping for school clothes in the Women's section when I was maybe 10 years old. Back then, fashion options for plus size women was awful. It was either all black, or the clothes had these big, splashy flower prints. It was so clear to the world, by what I wore, that I wasn't shopping in the same stores. As I grew older, there was some "progress" in the clothes that were available but I still never wore anything that was trendy for pre-teens and teenagers because those clothes just weren't available in my size.

So like most of my brothers and sisters who have struggled with their weight, I have been on diets my entire life. Some have been more successful than others, but any such success was short-lived at best. No matter how much weight I may have lost during any such efforts, I always gained it back. Whatever I lost and then some.

So, when I was trying to lose the weight, people would be supportive and encouraging. Even when I didn't feel any differently, when my clothes still fit the same way, they would be kind and tell me how good I was looking, and how I should keep it up. But for various reasons, I didn't. I stopped watching what I ate, sat around being inactive, and all the lost weight was found. Not once, when that was happening, did anyone ever take a moment to ask me what was happening that made me stop trying to get healthy and revert to bad behavior. I mean, obviously people who cared about me wouldn't humiliate me by saying something cruel like "Hey chubbo, I see you're plumping up again!" but certainly they could see the weight coming back on! Couldn't anyone pull me to the side and ask why I was throwing all of my hard work away? Why was I punishing myself with overeating again, and eating all the wrong food? Why did I feel the need to receive love and acceptance from ice cream, pizza, Doritos and chocolate instead of receiving affection from the people who were around me?

But we are not a society that knows how to constructively confront uncomfortable truths. We don't know how to receive concern. We want, perhaps even need, the perception of perfection that the recognition of imperfection sends us spiraling into self-hate, self-abuse, and negativity. The self-awareness that my success had been surrendered did not prompt me to stop the cycle and return to better care for myself. Instead, I punished myself by eating more and moving less, gaining back all the lost weight plus. I stopped believing that I deserved love, health, acceptance and happiness.

And now, well into my 40s, I am finally realizing that despite all the failed attempts, mistakes and bad decisions, I most definitely deserve all these things and more. It may take the rest of my days, and I may stumble and fall countless times along the way, but I will never stop trying to find all the positive things in this life that we ALL deserve.

Sorry to say this, but a lot of today's Single Moms are bullshit

NOW, before you crucify me, take a moment, feel all your righteous indignation and get it out of your system, take a deep breath, clear your mind, and read on.

This blog is borne out of watching actor Terry Crews on The View here: http://blacklikemoi.com/2014/06/terry-crews-says-every-child-needs-father-pummeled-tv/

His basic argument is that there are things only a Father (or Father Figure) can give a child. And holy shit, does Jenny McCarthy go off on him. Her reaction was about HER ego, not about the validity of his statement. She was clearly offended at the suggestion that she couldn't be the be-all-end-all for her son Evan.

Take a look at social media at any given time, but especially around Mother's Day and Father's Day, and listen to all the man-bashing that a lot of single moms do. They dog the deadbeat baby daddy for not being around, not taking care of their kids, etc. Watch any episode of Maury and hear how these fatherless babies have to go without ample food and clothes and diapers all because the daddy isn't around and providing financial support. Children grow and sometimes develop into juvenile delinquents and the first thing people talk about is the absence of his or her father in their lives. Men talk about their relationships with dysfunctional women and chalk up the difficulties to her "Daddy issues". All because of an absent father.

So now, when men are becoming more and more aware of the adverse effects that the absence of a father has on the lives of their children, and the conversations are happening in our communities, now we have these single moms saying "Screw you! My children don't need a father"??? Are you serious?

The only innocent victims in parent wars is the child. Not a single child born, under any circumstance, came into being of their own free will. Two adults laid down together and created a child. BOTH parents need to set their own egos aside and do what needs to be done in the best interest of the child. And yes ladies, sometimes that means accepting that you are NOT the center of attention, that a man does not want YOU but wants to be with his child. And you need to get over it.

If you don't think your child needs a father, then stop bitching about being a single mother.

Father's Day for the Father-less

When I was little, Father's Day was for my Grandpa. I didn't have a dad, but I had Grandpa and I loved him more than anything. Then, something happened and we weren't as close as we once had been. Father's Day was still for Grandpa though. I still didn't have a dad, but I still had Grandpa. Then as I got older, I still didn't feel as close to my Grandpa as when I was little, but things were better than they were in my teenage years. Father's Day didn't mean a whole lot. I don't even remember if I made the effort to go "home" for the cook out that we had every year. I'm guessing I rolled through for a minute but I doubt I made any concerted effort. By this time, I was completely self-absorbed in my own life and doing my own thing.

And then my Grandpa died. And with it, Father's Day. I didn't have a dad, and now I didn't have a Grandpa anymore. So what was the point?

See, I never had a dad. My dad wasn't absent from my life... he was non-existent. For the first decade or so of my life, I assumed my dad was the same dad that my brother and sister had. He was an alcoholic who spent his days in various states of oblivion. He never came around on any of our birthdays or Christmas or Father's Day or, well, ever. When I was about 10, my mom pulled me aside and told me that my dad was not the same as  my brother and sister's. She had been split from their dad and got together with this other guy ("Ed"). She loved him and all, but found out he was married (separated, really, according to her. But it was 1969 and divorce was not common like it is now). She broke it off with him, and found out she was pregnant with me. She never told him that she was pregnant, and hid the pregnancy under baggy sweaters until she went into labor.

Only immediate family was told about me those first few days... I guess they wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be given up for adoption before everyone got the news. But she kept me and there I was. We never talked about my biological father again, not for a really long time. I was always curious, but I felt like if I asked any questions, it would be mistaken as some kind of slight against my mom or my grandparents and the sacrifices they made to keep me and raise me. So I kept my questions to myself.

In my mid-to-late 20s, my mom started dating this guy Ed. In what seemed like a heartbeat, she was living with him. The house my great grandfather built and the one I grew up in was being taken by the bank, Grandpa was moving into a retirement home and mom and Ed were getting their own apartment.

Ed was... well... a piece of work. Another alcoholic, one who was in and out of jail SO many times, mostly for drunk driving. He was inappropriate, making overt sexual comments and innuendos all the time. I could go on and on and on about all the ways in which he was an awful excuse for a human being, but suffice it to say that no one in our family liked him.

Fast forward to Mother's Day one year. I organized a family dinner to celebrate the day: me, my brother, my sister and her family, my uncle (my mom's brother) and his family, my mom and Ed. Once everyone arrives, my mom makes her BIG announcement: She has a new daughter!

See, years and years ago, before Ed went off to Vietnam, he impregnated a woman who gave birth to a daughter. She told him he was a father; he abandoned the woman and the child. The child, now an adult with a daughter of her own and living in California, tracked down Ed, made contact, and was coming out to Green Bay to meet her daddy. Coincidentally, this meeting was scheduled for Father's Day weekend and my mom would like to cordially invite all of us to come out and welcome the newest members of our family.

None of us reacted well. It was the quietest family dinner in the history of the world. We all went our separate ways the moment dinner was over. By the time I got home, my mom was on the phone having her usual "woe-is-me, I'm-such-a-victim" moment, and I lost my cool. I gave her one chance, and one chance only, to back away from the door she was about to open with me. Instead of leaving well enough alone, she not only opened the door but she ripped the door off its hinges.

I went IN on her! How could she be so insensitive to her own children, especially me? I mean, at least my brother and sister knew who their father was. For over 30 years, she had kept who my father was secret. He never knew she was pregnant, so didn't know he had a daughter in the world. She stole over 30 of my birthdays and more than 30 of his birthdays and Christmases and summer vacations and my high school graduation and my college graduation away from me and MY father. And now she expected everyone to accept "her new daughter" with open arms? After this pathetic excuse of a man had knowingly abandoned his own child? Knowingly and purposely missed out on all of those birthdays and Christmases and summer vacations and graduations with his daughter?

Over the course of the next few months, I had several conversations with my mom about my biological father and who he was. Each conversation offered a different story about who he was, how they met and why his identity was kept a secret. Each story was not thought out very well though, and I exposed all of her lies. So many lies that I can't believe anything she says. Ever. About anything. But based on the last story I got, my biological father was an only child, born to a mother and a father who were both themselves only children. And they're all dead.

So here we are, another Father's Day that is just another day to me. I don't have a dad, and I don't have a Grandpa anymore.

The Clippers' Silent Support of Donald Sterling

Friday night, April 26^th, I had the pleasure to see the film NOTHING BUT A MAN, a film originally released 50 years ago, directed by Jewish Holocaust survivor Michael Roemer, depicting what he saw as the Black experience in 1950s-60s America.

Saturday, April 27^th, sports news was dominated by the racially-charged recording between LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling (white) and his girlfriend (mixed Black and Mexican). The recording was offensive, no doubt. But I am pretty outraged at the reaction of the Clippers players and many of the NBA Talking Heads.

In a press conference with Doc Rivers, he was asked and answered as follows:

Q: Did you consider boycotting the game?
A: “We’re playing. We’re playing Golden State, and Golden State is our enemy right now. … We heard about all of the boycotts and all of the other stuff. That’s all stuff we could do. We choose to play. … The biggest statement we can make as men – not as black men, but as men – is to stick together and show how strong we are as a group. Not splinter. Not walk. It’s easy to protest. The protest will show in our play.”

Mr. Rivers, you are wrong. The easy thing to do is to play the game and take this jerk one step closer to a Championship. I understand as a pro athlete, the Championship is why they play. But this is bigger than a Game, the 1^st round of the playoffs, a Ring and/or a Trophy. For decades, people have sacrificed and suffered and too many have laid down their lives so that Black players could even be invited to play in the NBA.

Listening to Shaq, Charles Barkley and Kenny Anderson on TNT, all were understandably outraged. All called for an immediate suspension and fine by NBA Commissioner Adam Silver. But when the idea of a player boycott was raised? All of them put on the brakes. Barkley opined that the players shouldn’t have to pay because the owner was a “jackass”.

During the Civil Rights era, and the decades before and since, so many nameless people suffered and sacrificed in order to stand up for equality. They lost jobs, their homes, in many cases, lost their lives. But we can’t ask a group of MILLIONAIRE basketball players to sacrifice? Really? If those 12 players banded together and chose to not show up for the game (even better, if the 12 Clippers players and the 12 Warriors players refused to play the game), the message that would be sent would be louder and clearer than anything we anonymous but outraged folks could hope to send.

But no… we can’t ask those players to sacrifice. We can ask the fans to sacrifice and stay away from the games. But we can’t ask the players to sacrifice. Playing the game is tantamount to silently supporting Sterling’s words and actions. THAT is unacceptable.

Spitting on Black History

I don't know if I'm necessarily "allowed" to have ask the (forthcoming) question or not. After all, this is a "black" issue and I'm a white girl. And when white folks are brought into the discussion... well, it's usually not a good thing. What's the issue? The N word.

Me, myself? I hate the word and everything it means. I don't care if it's pronounced with an "er" at the end of it, or an "a". I don't care what color the person is who says it... although to be fair, I won't admonish a black person for saying it because, quite honestly, I don't believe a white person can tell a black person not to say it. Let's be real about that. I wish I had a superpower that would allow me to eradicate it from everyone's vocabulary. Whatever context it's ever used in, there are better alternatives available.

The word is always at or near the forefront of conversation. But it seems to me, over the last several months, it's simply everywhere. It's a part of the conversation in entertainment, thanks to movies like The Butler, Fruitvale Station, and 12 Years a Slave. It's a part of the conversation in sports, thanks to Matt Barnes' recent tweet using the "a" version of the word, the Richie Incognito/Jonathan Martin fiasco in Miami, Riley Cooper's rant caught on videotape before the 2013-14 season started and the Trent Williams/Roy Ellison incident. And it's always a part of the conversation in police/community relations.

When the use of the N word comes up in conversations, many will say something to the effect that black people use the word all the time, so what's the big deal? And I have already confessed that if a black person uses the word in my presence, I won't say anything. And maybe I really don't have the right to ask this question. But I am going to ask any way... Why do black people use this word?

The word is ugly. It was meant to make slaves feel less than... meant to belittle, marginalize, shame. It was used in hatred. And I understand that when it is spoken by a white person, at a black person, it conjures up a different feeling than when used between black people with each other. I have black friends who use the word... frequently... as a term of endearment. But are you really, really telling me that people cannot think of other endearing words that could be used among friends, family and loved ones?

When you think about what slaves had to endure... the struggle for freedom... the continued struggle for rights and protections that still continue today... when you really think about the ugly, cruel, hateful meaning that word has in this nation... I can't help but think that every time that word is uttered among black folks to and at each other, that is spitting on the legacy and struggles of the ones who had to fight and bleed and die.

Crying Rape?

Ex-NFL player and current on-air personality at NFL Network, Darren Sharper has been arrested for two incidents of sexual assault in Los Angeles in October 2013 and January 2014.  In addition, he is being investigated for sexual assault that allegedly occurred in New Orleans in September 2013.

There are no details about the women who have made these allegations. But I don’t need to know the details to see some concerns. The accused is a black man, a professional athlete with some money and fame. He has a public life, a good looking guy, with women everywhere who are more than willing to do whatever it is that gets him off.

But, rape isn’t a crime about sex. It’s a crime about power and privilege. Prisons are filled with sex offenders who, at first glance, are attractive and “good catches”. Often times, these men are used to getting whatever they want, from whoever they want.

I have a friend who is a New Orleans Saints fan. The years that Sharper played there, and still today, she has a little crush on him. Her reaction to the news of the arrest was not a surprise, and is probably quite common. She said, in no uncertain terms, that she will believe this woman was assaulted if she does NOT settle out-of-court for money. Wow.

Anyone who has been assaulted will tell you that reporting the assault and everything afterwards is almost worse than the assault itself. A woman’s sexual history, fashion sense, relationship choices, personality and behaviors (does she drink? ever smoke anything? did she flirt? etc.) are examined over and over and over. HIS past behavior is off limits… hers will be on full display. Rape is one of the hardest, if not the hardest crime to prosecute successfully. Even with DNA evidence, it often boils down to he-said-she-said.

It’s a no-win situation for all parties involved. If they do not prosecute him, it’s inevitable that the accuser(s) file civil actions. When they do, the general public will assume they are liars and they are after the money. If they do prosecute and he’s acquitted, people will still always wonder if he did it. He will always have the allegation of being a rapist hanging over his head. And the accuser(s) will probably file civil actions under these circumstances too. And of course if he’s convicted, he goes to prison, has to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life, and she has to live with the rape for the rest of hers.  Honestly, I will be shocked if there’s an actual trial on the two rape charges in LA, and if anything transpires from the investigation in New Orleans. I predict this will end up in civil court and that there will be settlements reached.

But why believe the women are lying if they settle, and not believe he’s the liar? I mean, if it was me being accused of sexual assault, and I have the money to hire proper legal representation, I am going to court. I am taking the risk that I will lose, but no matter what the outcome of the civil action, I can always stand tall and say “Hey! I didn’t do it, and I went to court to prove it!” By settling, doesn’t he kind of admit that he’d rather pay whatever the settlement is, than have his dirty laundry aired in public? She’s willing to let it all out by bringing the civil action, so him settling… doesn’t that make him the “bad guy” and not her?

Regardless, every false report of a sexual assault makes it just that much harder for the next woman who really is assaulted to report. And while I do not wish for any woman to have been raped, I hope these women are not just “crying rape”.