My Baby Daddy

Now that I'm working at the high school, I have the same thought as I leave to go home every day. I can't believe that two of my male students are fathers. Yes, I know that almost anybody can reproduce, but these two should not have been given that opportunity.

The first student had his baby in middle school. He's now in 10th grade. He sleeps, does nothing and curses like a sailor. (How old is that saying? It's the best one I could come up with. LOL!) He doesn't work hard. Hell, he doesn't work. He's raising a child. Hard work should be in his vocabulary if not his favorite term to use. IMO

The second student loves to be a clown. That's not the problem. The problem is that he farts on purpose just to get a rise out of his classmates. This kid is raising a child. If the child could know better, do you think he would be proud of his papa?

Ugh. Judgmental, I know. I just can't get over the fact that those children are going to raise our next generation. The issues that these children will experience because they;re being raised by children. They won't all be statistics, but many will.

The Dirty Thirties!

Your 30s are your best years. Seriously.

Let me start in the beginning. From 0-5, you don't know what's going on. EVERY single one of your needs and wants is fed to you by adults. Heck, you don't even know what your wants are. From 5-10, you just want to play on the playground. From 10-15, you're just trying to fit in. Which group am I apart of? Am I a nerd? Am I a rebel? Do I belong with the emo kids? Am I a loner? Is everyone up my butt because I'm that darn popular?! You're trying to figure it out. And lastly, from 15-20, you just want to be an adult. Little do you know, although you're 18, you're not really an adult. Yes, you can vote, but YOU HAVE NO IDEA what it means to be an adult. 

Let's get to your 20s. Again, those first few years, you think you're an adult but you still have no idea. More than likely, you're partying and clubbing your butt off because you have a level of independence that you've never experienced before. If you're in college, you're taking full advantage. That's the way it should be. 

But ba-bee, come 25, ish gets real. If you're a college grad not born with a silver spoon in your mouth, Sallie Mae is more than likely breathing down your neck. You're probably thinking, "Oh, so this is what they call life." However, you're still fond of that independence you've been experiencing for the last 5 or so years, so you're still teetering the line between ALL FUN v. ADULTHOOD.  But that's ok; you're entitled, you're 20something. 

Here come your 30s. They signify the fact that you're a survivor. You survived your 20s. (I read that somewhere; it's definitely true.) Yes, they're scary, especially 30. You get a week before your birthday to freak out and that's it. Move on. Why? Because you are about to have experience REAL life. REAL life, Shameka? Yes, REAL life. Hopefully, you've learned how to manage your responsibilities while interspersing some fun up in there. At this point, you realize that life is short, and it is definitely time to live, whatever that means to you. You've figured out the true meaning of friendship and can recognize real friends in your life. You also know that people play different roles in your life, whether they're the person you go to for advice, the person that you travel with occasionally but not talk to on a daily basis because they irk your spirit and you can only deal with them in small doses. You also don't have time for BS. Point. Blank. Period. 

Your 30s are your best years because it's only downhill from there, right? Once you hit 40, they call it "over the hill", right? Then there's your 50s. And your 60s. No shade to these ages, as there is still life to be lived. But enjoy your 30s before you start that decline on that "hill."

#100HappyDays - Day 2

Day 2: Quite a few things happened to make me extremely happy today, but the best was making Sloppy Joe Pockets with my nephew. Got the idea from Pinterest. 

I love Pinterest! 

#100HappyDays

I started the #100HappyDays challenge. Go here (100happydays.com) to find out more information. I hope I make it to day 100. Word on the street is that people tend to not finish because they're "too busy." Too busy to be happy??!

Day 1: Being a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc. has brought awesome women into my life. My Soror in Brooklyn took time out of her BUSY schedule to comb over a special project I'm working on and share with me her thoughts and insight. Right afterwards, I spoke to a Soror here in Florida who took time to pray with me over the phone after finding out that I'm currently in the midst of making a big decision. And what a powerful prayer it was! 

I love my Sorors! 

I love ZPhiB!

If You Want To Make God Laugh...

Tell Him your plans. God must think that I'm a comedian right now; I bet I have Him in stitches. Let me explain.

I recently saw this on a family member's IG page. I immediately thought of myself. I used to think that I was on that bicycle peddling on to my happiness. Instead, I found myself in that boat in the water in that valley thinking of how to grab hold of that lifeline above. 

I recently quit my job and left New York City. (Cue the gasps.) I did that for a number of reasons, not just one. I wasn't happy in the city (although there were parts that I loved and miss) and I wasn't happy doing my job. Over the last few months, SEVERAL events have taken place that have led me to believe that I must follow my passion, the reason that God placed me in this earth. That purpose is working with the youth. In my previous job, I didn't have that opportunity and it was weighing on me. Also, I needed to resolve some family issues that I won't go into on here. 

When I made the decision to leave the city, I was in a new relationship that was going pretty damn well. But my guy was very supportive and understood my need to follow my dreams. 

Also, there was a school social worker position open in my hometown that I knew I'd be perfect for and it would put me in a great position to do the things that I wanted to do with the youth of my hometown. 

The above details me on the bicycle in the picture. Let's move on to reality-the picture with the valleys and hills and rainy days. 

I didn't get that dream job I wanted. Me and the guy broke up. The familial issues are just horrible and not improving at the rate I'd like. I got a teaching position at the high school, however, I've yet to start and there's only a month and a half remaining in the school year = hardly no money to be made. I don't have a car (I sold mine since I don't need it in NYC.)

But here's the good news. What I see in that picture above is that God doesn't just leave you, and He sets you up to go higher than you thought you could ever go. 

Look at the finish line. The finish in the bottom half is much higher than the finish the person imagined they'd get to. 

In one of the valleys on the bottom half, there's a bridge to get to the other side. Sometimes we just have to work a bit to get to the other side. 

Another valley has a boat on water with a lifeline above to get the person to the other side. My thoughts are: it could've been worse. There could be no boat. There could be no lifeline. But there is. But God. 

Right now, I feel as though I'm in a valley, but I just need to work to get to the other side. I will be in a few uncomfortable situations (judgement and criticism from others as well as running low on funds) however, He's right there with a lifeline. Example: I waited until the last minute to do my taxes because I thought I would be paying as I did last year. Not the case. He gave me a lifeline. 

Also, I believe that sometimes I need to wait on His timing (which is not the easiest thing for me). I see the person in the boat on the water with the lifeline above. The person can't reach it yet but if  s/he waits thru a storm, the rainwater will help that boat rise to the point where that person can reach that line and then be able to get to the other side. Example: the romance didn't work out. It's ok. That guy was good. But the guy that's waiting on the other side is going to be SPECTACULAR! 

Wait on Him. 

I'm trying. I know that I made the right move in leaving NYC. Things aren't going how I thought they would, initially. However, I know that God's just getting me in position to take me to a greater place than I ever thought I could go. 

I'm ready, Lord! I'll wait on you. 

This Is So HILARIOUS.....To Me

Have you ever just cracked up for no good reason at all? Have you just continued laughing, with each laugh causing the next to the point that you have tears in your eyes? I definitely have. And I did today. 

Let me set the scene for you. I walked out of my bedroom into the kitchen. As I walked past the kitchen table, I saw this: 

I started laughing so hard that I ended up crying! You're probably saying, "That's just two pickles in a jar. Why on earth does she find that funny?" Well, 1. Laughter is good for the soul, and 2. I recently caught Marlon Wayans on "The Breakfast Club" radio show a few days ago.

Do you get it yet? No? Let me continue. 

He was talking about his brothers and their time on their show, In Loving Color. 

Do you get it yet? No? I'll continue. 

Do you not remember the character, Anton Jackson, the homeless guy who Damon Wayans made famous? Remember his makeshift bathroom? 

Now you get it, right? Nah? Geez. 

Just watch the video below. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1BNgRpRuWGs&sns=em

By the way, his "apartment" was the size of mine in New York. Haha. 

I Didn't Know Her, But She Touched Me

I did not write the following article. I came across it on Facebook. I read it and was saddened, yet inspired. Another blogpost detailing why will soon follow. Please read the following excerpt cut from Christelyn Karazin. You can find the entire post here.

Founder of “For Brown Girls,” and Advocate for US, Karyn Washington Committed Suicide, and I Suck.

April 10, 2014 by Christelyn Karazin

Today I’ve been whining about breaking the screen on my laptop computer and complaining about a radio show that went horribly, terribly wrong, and I missed some major news that should have been discussed and that I was remiss in reporting. Karyn Washington, founder of www.forbrowngirls.com and the “Dark Skin, Red Lips” project has died at the tender age of 22. And this was not a natural death. This was a suicide.

Washington, who dedicated herself to the uplifting of dark-skinned black girls and women, and worked so that they would have a sense of well-being, was struggling with depression and mental illness, and was unable to extend the love she gave to others to herself.

This is often par for the course with black women, who often shoulder so much burden (one of the only things the community will give us kudos for, the quintessential ‘struggle’) and to admit any weakness of the mind and body is to be considered defective. Vulnerability is not allowed. Tears are discouraged. Victims are incessantly blamed. We are hard on our women, and suffer as a result.

When your community tells you that you’re better off praying than seeking the advice of medical professionals and medication, you feel shame when you feel your mind is breaking. There is no safe place. To admit to any mental frialty is to invite scorn and mockery, accusations of “acting white.”
Because only white people suffer from depression. Only white people commit suicide.

Black women are strong.

Black women are not human.

And this is a LIE.

I have suffered for bouts of depression and anxiety for the majority of my life. When I acted out, my mother told me I was possessed by the devil and once called our minister. I told her how I felt, she told me to pray. When I became an adult and went to college, I FINALLY was given an outlet to speak on my affliction. Medication and counseling changed my life. It’s not fun sleeping for 16 hours a day and crying for no reason, or feeling like your heart is going to beat right out of your chest. Thank God for Zoloft. And I refuse to allow anyone to shame me for allowing myself to be healed.

Ladies, stop allowing others to shame you out of seeking help if you need it. African Americans are the most undiagnosed group of mental illnesses, because we are so ashamed to admit we can not always hold it down. The struggle is literally killing us. Yes; blacks may be the least likely group to commit IMMEDIATE suicide, but look around you–you’ll see black women killing themselves slowly with food, which is a more socially acceptable way to kill yourself. Look at the streets, all the boys so eager to off themselves in front of bullets. We’re committing suicide alright, but we like to take the long way around.

As far as I’m concerned, Karyn Washington is a martyr. Let her be a martyr for change. Click here to read the entire post.