The Irrelevancy of Donald Trump

Let me preface this by saying that I do not agree with anything that Donald J. Trump says, nor do I support him in his bid for the Republican nomination for President of the United States in the upcoming 2016 election. When he first announced that he was throwing his hat into the ring to seek the nomination, I laughed. Certainly no one would take him seriously! And then he made those comments, calling Mexicans a bunch of drug dealers, rapists and murderers. Well, certainly that would seal his fate, and his bid for the nomination would be over before it started... right?

WRONG! Somehow, someway, he has risen to the top of the lot for the GOP nomination. Now, we are about a year away from the Republican National Convention and the official decision on who will ultimately run on the ticket for President. And the leading hopeful will likely change a dozen times or more between now and then. But how is this guy even relevant?

Personally, to me, he is the personification of what ails our nation. He is a greedy, entitled, pompous ass who inherited his fortune. He is not the self-made success he claims to be. It was his father, Fred, who was the true real estate tycoon. But even he, Fred, had to rely on government funding programs to make his fortune. It was money from the Federal Housing Administration that allowed Fred Trump to revive his failing real estate business of building homes during the Depression. As the US entered into WWII, he received government contracts to build FHA-backed housing units for US Naval personnel.

So, with Daddy's money, Donald Trump received a world class education and took the helm of Daddy's company in 1974. But by 1990, he was in financial trouble. It was a BAIL OUT that saved him. The banks that backed his ventures gave him a $65 million rescue package that was pretty much squandered. Less than a year after the bail out, he was nearly $4 billion in debt. Trump Entertainment Resorts Inc. has declared bankruptcy three times. The Trump Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City also declared bankruptcy. It was slated to close in 2014, but Trump received yet another bail out to keep it open through at least the end of 2015.

But back to the matter at hand... HOW did this jackass become relevant? I think it's because even though his words are hateful and stupid, he's being honest. For him. Whether you agree with him or not, he's not giving us the usual rhetoric that politicians give us. That people in general give us. Most folks, whether they aspire to a political office or not, have to choose their words carefully. They have to be careful to not offend this group or that, and make sure whatever they're saying is vague enough that they can waffle back and forth on really important issues, depending on what the need of the moment is. Donald Trump doesn't do that. He gives us his opinions straight up, with no apologies.

It's actually a little refreshing. There's no mistaking what side of an issue he is on, whatever the issue is. He beats us over the head with his opinions. As disgusting as they may be.

And yes, he's the favorite at the moment, but it won't last. The truth of the matter is that whether it's the Republicans or Democrats, the person that will ultimately get the nomination is the person that they believe will have the best chance to win. And that's just not Donald Trump. He alienates too many people. 

It can happen to YOU too!

So a few weeks ago, I got into a debate with a very good friend of mine, who happens to be a gay man, over police brutality, the Black Lives Matter movement, and my position of being on the side of the people. I listened closely to his argument that this is an increasingly fucked up world. Police are on the front lines, not knowing what kind of situation they’re walking into and that we the people need to be more aware of that. We the people need to not do anything that would make the police concerned for their, and others around them, lives. He argued that hindsight is 20/20, and that we need to be more willing to put ourselves into the police’s shoes in the moment of the crisis.

All very valid points. I mean, this IS a fucked up world. Don’t believe me? Listen to one news broadcast or read one newspaper. Kidnappings, rapes, assaults, robberies. Violence has become our way of life. And yes, people still overwhelmingly believe that in moments of crisis, call the police.

But I counter-argued that unarmed kids like Mike Brown had his hands up, and was shot anyway. Tamir Rice was killed within seconds of police arrival. The deaths, no… the MURDERS, that have people enraged and protesting have unacceptable similarities: there is no weapon in the dead citizen’s hands, the dead citizen is disproportionately Black, and there is NO ACCOUNTABILITY for their murderers.

As a white woman, I will never know what it’s like to be a Black Man. I will never understand how it feels to be a Black Woman. I will never know how it feels to have this intrinsic feeling that just by existing, I am predisposed to being followed, suspicious, or having people follow me around in the store because they’re sure I am going to steal something. When I go down into the subway with a backpack on my back, I don’t get nervous when I see police with tables set up, fearful that they are going to target me because of the color of my skin. I don’t have to counsel my nephews about how to act, what to say and what to do if they are stopped by police walking down the street with their friends. And although I will never know what that’s like, because all these things are realities for Black men and women every day of their lives, I can try to identify by imagining what it’s like; by listening to their testimony of incidents they have lived through; and my opening my eyes and being aware of what’s happening around me.

So I counter-argued to my friend that one of the things he was not taking into account was that growing up, we learned about Officer Friendly, the cop who was there to protect us. We learned that police were our friends, that we could trust them, and that they wouldn’t harm us. Officer Friendly is not who Black children meet. They meet Officer Enemy. Officer Enemy is called to help, but when he arrives, assaults, beats, and arrests the person he was called to help. It’s a very different relationship, and both sides see the other as enemy.

My next question to him, he says, hurt him. I asked him to consider how he would feel if dead body after dead body of the unarmed citizens, instead of being Black boys and men, belonged to LGBTQ individuals, and that they were targeted because of their orientation/identification the way Black men and boys were targeted because of the color of their skin. He was offended by my question, saying being gay has nothing to do with it. He is a person first and foremost, after all.

That my friend, I replied, is my point. You want the world to see you as a Man. Not as a gay Man. But as a human being. Because you’re white, you get your wish. People can’t look at you and see your sexual orientation. But how many people change the way they speak to you, how they deal with you, once they find out you’re gay as compared to when they thought you were straight? How many times have you heard “Hey, you’re all right for a gay guy”? That’s just one more luxury that Black boys, girls, men and women don’t have. They are seen for their skin first, and everything else second.

He dismissed my argument in its entirety, which is his right. I have not wavered in my position, and so far, neither has he. But when I shared this article with him (http://www.dnainfo.com/new-york/20150629/west-village/gay-activists-zero-on-police-encounters-as-next-step-rights-fight), pointing out that unfair treatment by police is identified as a next step in achieving equality for the LGBTQ segments of society, and reminded him of our past conversation, I received silence in response.

In the end, I say this: no one is obligated to share my views and opinions on anything. All I ask is that when deciding how YOU feel about someone or something; try to find a way to relate to the opposition before dismissing them. It’s easy to dismiss something we do not understand, or do not relate to. It doesn’t mean we can’t find common ground, or that we cannot empathize. In a split second, the whole shit can change and we can find ourselves as the outsiders. Wouldn’t we want people to stand up for us and our rights too?

Protesters are NOT the problem

There are many people who are condemning the protesters in Baltimore for their behavior, citing violent outbursts with police, looting, and destruction of private and commercial property. The criticism seems reasonable, right? Well... let's look at the BIG picture.  

This all started in Baltimore due to unanswered questions of how a 25 year old Black man named Freddie Gray died in police custody after being arrested for possession of a switchblade. Police disarmed him and placed him under arrest. The arrest was, per Officer Garrett Miller of the Baltimore PD, "without force or incident". However, within one hour of his arrest, Mr. Gray was in the hospital, in a coma, with 3 broken vertebrae, a crushed larynx, and a spinal code that was 80% severed at the neck. Within a week, Mr. Gray succumbed to his injuries and died. 

Police have admitted that there was a failure on at least 3 occasions to get Mr. Gray medical attention. 3 chances. In less than an hour. Yet there is still no explanation from police, when the arrest was without force and without incident, how this man sustained life-ending injuries.  

OK so fast forward to events as they are unraveling. Mr. Gray's family has been joined by the community to protest and demand answers and justice. Though the protests started out mostly peaceful, there has been a spattering of confrontations between the police and protesters, some looting, and some property destruction. Today, the violence has escalated. People.... mostly white folks... have jumped on these protesters, condemning them for their violence. They conveniently declare that ALL lives matter... Black, White, and Blue (police)... all. Though it should be noted that most of these folks have never once spoken up about the Black and Brown lives lost at the hands of police, and how those lives mattered. But I digress. 

These same people thump their chests and declare their love for America, and how these protesters are turning our great country into a nation "no better than the Middle East". Really? Let's consider this. 

How exactly was this country founded? Ah yes... the British sent over some settlers to STEAL the land from Native Americans and establish the 13 colonies for the British Empire. When the colonists got tired of taxation without representation, they revolted. So after slaughtering the Native Americans, stealing and raping their lands, we fought for independence from Britain. HOORAY! Freedom! And in our Declaration of Independence, we declared that ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL! 

Well... not ALL men. Certainly not men that weren't White. Certainly not those pesky Native Americans, and absolutely not Black men! Black men, and women, and children, were property. Owned, just like a dress or a horse or furniture or any other inanimate object. But not only were they non-human property, they were slaves. I can't even begin to describe what slave life was like. Films like Roots, 12 Years a Slave, Glory, Amistad... they gave a glimpse into the life, but it was so much worse than it could ever be portrayed. The violence that was a common part of their lives... whippings, rape, lynching, being attacked and ripped apart by dogs, the fights to the death between Black men for the entertainment of the slave owners...  the list of violent assaults goes on and on.

And, Lord we were not ready or willing to give up that ownership and domination over Black lives. We declared war on ourselves in order to try to hang onto that ownership. Families torn apart, a country that is still, to this day, split over this issue. Down south, they still fly that Confederate Flag. To this day, men and women all over the nation are hunted and killed for no reason other than the color of their skin. Emmitt Till, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X... Mike Brown, Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant, Tamir Rice, Akai Gurley, Kajieme Powell, Ezell Ford, Eric Garner, Yvette Smith, Jordan Baker, Miriam Carey, Jonathan Ferrell, Kimani Gray, Rekia Boyd. I could go on and on and on, but I think you get my point.  

So, even after the Civil War, when slaves were freed, they still weren't really free. Every step forward was a struggle. The Ku Klux Klan, Jim Crow laws, segregation. Every single right that Blacks "got" was a long, hard, bloody battle. For every Medgar Evers or Martin Luther King Jr. that famously lost their lives, there are dozens... maybe even hundreds of nameless, faceless men and women who lost their lives for the Cause.  And despite all the struggles, the sit-ins, the marches, the blood and sweat and tears, the deaths that were in the name of the Cause, the Supreme Court of the United States has repealed important pieces of the Voting Rights Act. We are going backwards, my friends. Backwards.  

So let's come back to what's happening in Baltimore right now. Mr. Gray is the latest in a long line of Black and Brown lives lost at the hands of "law enforcement" where there is no justice. Sure the police department is investigating itself. During the investigation, all officers involved are on paid leave. I am sure we all know what's going to happen. These naughty cops should have gotten Mr. Gray to the hospital sooner, but there was "no" wrongdoing outside of that. There were "no" improprieties in how Mr. Gray got those broken vertebrae or severed spine. They "just happened" and probably will somehow be found to have been self-inflicted.  

I pose the following questions to every person condemning the protesters: what if police or people protected by police, for hundreds of years, had killed your friends, family members, people who looked like you and never had to answer for it. Few indictments, fewer convictions. Peacefully assembling, protesting, demanding accountability and justice for a young man who suffered a horrific, painful death. Being met by those same killer police armed to the hilt and in riot gear. Peace met with force. Is it really so surprising that people have reached the breaking point? I do not condone the violence.... but I do understand. 

As for the shock and horror of what "these protesters" are turning the country into. My God, how incredibly stupid are we? We are not the land of the free or the home of the brave. We are the land of capitalism and the home of violence. We were founded on violence. The land was stolen from Native Americans and was built on the backs of slaves. We release our armed forces not because there are grave wrongs being perpetrated against the peoples of other nations, but because we have some vested interest, be it placing a puppet government that we can control from afar, or oil, or some other natural resource. We are not the Righter of Wrongs. We are greed. IF we as a nation were so worried about what was right and wrong, we wouldn't have people living on the streets, digging through dumpsters for food, sleeping on grates in the dead of winter trying not to freeze to death. We certainly wouldn't allow our Veterans, who fought for this country, to be relegated to such circumstances.  

No, we are so blindly and stupidly "patriotic". Whatever we do is right. The rest of the world is wrong. Those who use terrorism to fight the American Ideals are evil. We are righteous. Ok, so civilian lives are lost "over there". After so many hundreds of years of being programmed to hate us, there's really no hope for them anyway. We're actually doing them a favor by killing them. Right?

So we torture people who we think could be terrorists. We're saving American lives so it's ok. Right? We are a nation of patriots who live by the credo of "Do what we say, not what we do" and "The rules don't apply to us".  

Those terrorists "over there" are driven by hate. Why can't they be more like us? We're so perfect! Except, you know, we still don't see Black people as being equal, some of us don't see them as human at all. We hate all those gays who are trying to ruin our family values by wanting equal recognition of their love. Those people want to marry and have families? Hell no! And we don't really see women as equals either. Really, the world is all about White men and protecting their power and privilege. If everyone else would just recognize and accept that, everything would be perfect! Right? Can we really be so ignorant?

So, at the end of it all, I believe in personal choice and freedoms. Though I cannot understand anyone who takes the position that protesters across the country who assemble in peace are the cause of the shitstorm that is raging across this country, I believe they have the right to hold that opinion. But please do not defend your position by citing the moral high ground of our nation or the police force, because that just simply doesn't exist. OWN your racism and your own personal privilege. If you can't, well, that should speak volumes to you. It certainly does to me. 

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.