I mentioned a few weeks ago about the cookout I was basically forced into having at my house for the 4th of July holiday. Well being that my family is quite ‘different’, everyone wanted the cook out to be held on the 5th of July. Go. Figure.  I don’t even bother asking questions, when it comes to some of the decisions my family makes.

So of course a few people had the video cameras in tow. I have a cousin who is a news director at NPR, so she takes her camera wherever she goes. Thankfully, yours truly was not caught on tape. To bad I can’t say the same thing for my poor grandmother. She decided to display her pole dancing skills to everyone at the cook out and now to the whole world.

And people wonder where I get my [fung'ke]‘ness and lack of rhythm from. Just look at some of my family members. Please, try to contain your laughter if you’re at work. And certain people wonder why I never invite friends to family functions. P O N D E R O U S.

As I was growing up, my siblings and I always lived in pretty diverse neighborhoods. Whether it was in NY or NJ, there always seemed to be a mix of white/black/asian/latino people. I appreciated the fact that early on in my life I was exposed to various cultures and languages. My best friend, who is Colombian, taught me my first Spanish curse words when I was a kid. Another friend of mine, had me saying ’sak passe’ in her native Creole language. Lunch time at my school in highschool was a smorgasborg  of international cuisines. We would have everything from Spanish dishes to Indian dishes. Not to say everything was this great Rainbow Coalition Utopian society, because there were still small cliques here and there, but everyone seemed to get along and respect each others differences.

I always wanted my son to have a similiar experience while he was in school. I wanted him to be able to make friends with people from varied backgrounds and learn to appreciate differences as well. So before he entered kindergarten I found the perfect area in Maryland and Columbia, MD, is about as diverse as you can get. I definitely enjoyed living in Columbia. The school he attended was excellent and the extracurricular activities were endless. My son loved going to school every morning, he would literally cry if he had to stay home for any reason. He had friends from every background you could possibly imagine. His best friend was Philip, a Chinese kid who had only been in the U.S. for two years, and although his english was not the best, they communicated and played well together. Their friendship reminded me of my friendship with my best friend when she first arrived in the U.S. from Cali, Colombia.

We stayed in Columbia for about 3 1/2 years. I felt that I was growing out of my townhouse and I needed more space. So I eventually started looking for a single family. Now the downside of Columbia, is the price of realestate. If you weren’t able to spend upwards of 800k, then trying to find a nice sized single family house was close to impossible. I realized I would have to broaden my search area, which led me to where I am now, a town in Prince Georges County, Maryland.

I love the neighborhood I’m in. It’s quiet, comprised of single family homes built in the 80’s and most of the people are long time residents. There’s privacy and unlike my townhouse, I don’t have to worry about nosey neighbors.

But unfortunately, that is not enough to keep me here.

So long Prince Georges County, for the sake of my son’s education, back to Howard County I go.

If there was ever a public school system that could be referred to as a “Historically Black Elementary School”, several of them would be in Prince Georges County. Now, I’m in no way saying that anything related to being “Historically Black” i.e, HBCUs, are negative, but when a county as rich as Prince Georges County, cannot provide a half decent education to the children of the county, that is when I have a problem. I’m not sure where the disconnect begins with PG County Schools, but they are doing a disservice to the children of the county. What is also disheartening is that these schools are primarily composed of black children.

The stories my son has brought home this past year were unbelievable. From students sexually harrassing each other (this is an elementary school from k-5), to the lunch monitors referring to kids as ‘idiots’, to a student telling the principal a strange man was in the courtyard and the principal not doing anything; the list goes on!

My son has gone from a student who was excited about attending school everyday, to a kid who has used every excuse in the book to not attend. The only positive is that although he hates the environment, his grades have not suffered, mainly because I do my part once he leaves the classroom. I’m not sure about any other parents in the county who send their kids to public schools, but I refuse to fail my son or allow him to fail at the hands of an inept educational system, so as of this upcoming school year, I refuse to have him attend school in this county.

I truly believe that a student can receive a great education from a public school system, but that school system has to have the means in providing a sound academic environment, and unfortuantely the proof is in the test scores that Prince Georges County’s school system has continued to fail it’s students. Maybe someone should remind them that a mind is truly a terrible thing to waste, especially the minds of young black children who are already becoming so disenfranchised at an early age.

Last night I cried but this time I wasn’t alone. On the other end of the phone was one of the most remarkable women I know, my siSTAR and kindred spirit, Pele .  Currently we’re both dealing with a lot of life changes, relationship, health and career-wise. We’re both usually stoic women when it comes to supporting each other. We don’t sugar coat the advise we give each other nor do we patronize each other and tell the other what we think the other wants to hear. I’d like to think that we’re two pretty strong women.

No matter how strong a person you are, everyone eventually reaches their breaking point. Either the emotional or physical stress will take it’s toll on a person eventually. I think that point was last night for each of us. As usual our conversation started out light hearted. She was on the phone while doing her commute in San Francisco and I was relaxing at home. For the past couple of weeks she’s been the most helpful in providing me with alternative health treatments because her ex husband and I share the same issue. Everyday she calls to see how I’m doing and if I’m making any progress. Today was no different. But I could tell she was going through something herself. So we talked about it.

We were both on emotional roller coaster rides due to past/present relationships. By the end of the conversation we were both in tears. Her fellow commuter offered her a napkin from Jack in the Box and I received a hug from my son. We laughed via text message in between tears because we both know that we took off our Super Woman cape for the night and purged emotionally. What’s unfortunate is that we’re on opposite coasts but we try to put in as much phone time as possible to check on each other. I am so thankful to have her in my life! Love ya, Pele! 

Around 2:30 a.m. this morning, my son came into my bedroom to check up on me. He knew before I laid down to go to sleep I wasn’t feeling well. At first he scared the crap out of me because while I was asleep he reached out and touched me on the forehead, so I woke up startled. In his hand he had a cup of apple juice for me. I really didn’t want anything to drink, but I took it just so he would know he was appreciated.

For the record, my son is 9 years old. For the past few weeks he has literally taken care of me. He’s made sure I didn’t have to do anything extra around the house. He’s been a constant fixture in my room and made sure I knew he was there to help me. Today when I woke up, he asked if I needed him to stay at home with me today. For the past two weeks, he hasn’t gone to his day camp and really haven’t had any ‘kiddie’ time with his friends, besides his cousin. He was already dressed, so I knew he was anxious to walk to his camp.

“Of course you can go, Jaden”, is what I told him.

I gave him one of the biggest hugs I think I’ve ever given him. It still amazes me how mature and caring  he is for his age. This boy will give you the shirt off  his back if you needed it. Now, believe me, we have had our moments. They usually happen when he gets a little too smart mouthed. But I can say he gets it honestly.

Most people ask me or assume that my son is spoiled because he’s an only child. Not hardly. He’s far from greedy and rarely asks for anything. For his birthday this past May, I asked him what did he want and he told me just a bike. I asked if that was all he wanted and he said yes. For Christmas, once again I asked him what did he want, and he went online and pulled up a watch that was only $12.00. When he asks for a new video game, he always makes sure he has the money to buy it, another game to take as a trade in, or asks the salesperson if they have a used/cheaper version.

These past few weeks have shown me that everyday my son is growing up, not only physically (at 5′1 & 125 lbs..he definitely isn’t the average 9 yr old) but mentally and becoming more independent. I couldn’t ask for a greater kid!

I detest family gatherings, large or small.

Tidbit #304,394

I detest them even more if they’re being held at my house.

A few weeks ago, my aunt calls me to ask, well more like inform me, that the 5th of July cook out (we never have one on the 4th) would be held at my house this year because her townhouse was too small to hold so many people, and so was her cousin’s house in Virginia. Mind you, when I received this phone call I was in the middle of waiting for a medical diagnosis and wasn’t in the best of spirits. The last thing that was on my mind was a fucking cook out. In her best guilty plea, she reminded me about all of the times it was held at her house and how she would never ask this of me if so many people in my family weren’t coming in from out of town. Also, my house was better suited because of the large patio and backyard area, so 100 people could easily fit.

Yes. 100 people. 100 family members. 85 people who I had no desire to socialize with EVER, especially if I wasn’t feeling well.

Needless to say, I was dreading the whole 4th of July weekend. Of course the weekend arrived quick. I hoped that she would eventually understand that I wasn’t in the best condition to host anything at my house and she would call it off.

That’s called wishful thinking. It works for other people, not me.

As of this past Thursday, my normally quiet 4 bdrm house because a hostel for displaced family members who were too damn cheap to get a hotel room. If I see another fucking air mattress for as long as I live, I’m going to scream! If someone else asks me why is it that my house seems so ‘not lived in’, I might haul off and smack someone. Excuse me for wanting to have ’space’ in my house and not have a bunch of odds & ends, i.e, dust collectors, sitting in every corner.

So here comes Saturday. The day of our cook-out. Thank god for my grandmother and my uncle who came to help out before the crowd arrived. My aunt’s boyfriend was on the grill. Not just any ordinary grill either. This thing had to be attached to the back of his Suburban! The picture below is a smaller version of what he had:

This video reminds me of my mother and her sisters. I remember as a kid, I would ask my mother if that was them all the time!

I remember the first time I heard Lauryn Hill sing about reciprocity in her song, “Ex-Factor”:

It could all be so simple
But you’d rather make it hard
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will

This past year has shown me that I can’t be everyone’s friend and I can’t be the family member that looks out for everyone anymore. I can only worry about my own affairs. It’s somewhat a harsh reality, but I think the lack of selfishness that I’ve been practicing has done me more harm than good.

The Art of Reciprocity is dead.