“The only difference between African slaves and European or British slaves was that the latter could run away and melt into the population. But if you were black, you were noticeable.”

~Toni Morrison

i have always wondered what it was like to be white.

i have always wondered what it's like to navigate a world that is not suspicious of your presence, to be able to blend seamlessly into the background without much notice. i wonder what it's like to not represent everyone that looks like you. i know, white people have their own issues & crosses to bear, but growing up as a Black girl in America, i was keenly aware that no matter where i went, or how i behaved...eyes were always watching and judging.

early on, my parents--slightly militant--told me i always had to be on my A-game. they instilled in me an intense determination to achieve, not only for myself, but for each member of my family (and race) who did not have the opportunity to "make it." if i didn't make a good grade in school, my grandmother would tell me about the trouble she had attending school in rural Arkansas. she would say how she had to wake up early to work the cotton field, go to school, and come home to continue working the fields, all while she and her family faced racist Jim Crow laws. she would recount having to attend segregated schools in subpar environments, all to illustrate her point that i had it so much better and had no reason at all NOT to achieve.

i have always carried this idea in my head, that black people must be better than. while i know that i am not able to represent all black people, i do know that for some, i am the only (positive) representative that they see.

i was listening to NPR the other day and Toni Morrison was discussing her new book, A Mercy. her book deals with issues of slavery, but without the slaves being "raced," meaning, she is taking a look at slavery across racial lines, before any sort of racial implications were used to delineate types of servants. as i tried to wrap my mind around the idea of being "raced," or rather NOT being raced, i listened to This American Life as they traveled through Pennsylvania with both presidential campaigns. unsurprisingly, Obama volunteers were finding some resistance to Obama, not on issues of the economy or the war, but solely on the issue of race. in September, The Wall Street Journal reported

Barack Obama’s race could be the deciding factor if the presidential battle remains a dead heat on Election Day, according to an Associated Press poll released today in conjunction with Stanford University. The survey finds that many white Americans — particularly Democrats and Independent voters — still hold deep-seated reservations about African Americans.

The survey of 2,227 adults has a 2% margin of error and showed one-third of white Democrats hold negative views of blacks.

as i listened to both broadcasts, read countless articles, and overdosed on political news, i started to think about ways in which race is applied and used as a tool suppress achievement.

there is no secret that this country was founded on the basis of systematic white supremacy, which coldly annihilated the indigenous population and treated Africans as chattel. instead of bestowing the right of citizenship to enslaved Africans, our forefathers thought up the three-fifths compromise, which essentially resolved that African-Americans were less than human. despite great gains in civil rights and racial equality, this institutional supremacy has continued to permeate all aspects of our society. the inequality found in our schools, our communities, and our legal system are just reminders that the playing field is not level.

as we sit on the cusp of possibly electing an African-American president, i am both hopeful and suspicious of what this will mean for our nation. will we use this momentous act as catalyst to once and for all deal with the racist systems still in place in our country? or we will act as if all has been healed, and that the election of Obama will represent reparations for all that has been done to America's blacks?

as Cornel West once stated, "A fully functional multiracial society cannot be achieved without a sense of history and open, honest dialogue." despite all of our imperfections, i am still hopeful that we can/will continue this honest dialogue and move past the issues that continue to impede our progress.

so, i've been toying with the idea of throwing the munchkin a birthday party in a few weeks. to date, he hasn't had a "real" party. he's had some birthday dinners, but what does that really mean to a 2 year old? my argument has always been that he would never remember a party & it would mean absolutely nothing to him anyway, but apparently, those around me are looking at me like i'm depriving my child of some sort of right of passage.

as i sit here and search for a site (Chuck E. Cheese?) for a party, the sheer amount of money people spend on these celebrations is sort of daunting. first, the venue. i don't have the luxury of a backyard, so having it at home is out. there's Chuck E. Cheese, which is fairly cheap if you have the party during the week, and a bit more expensive on the weekends. then you have your specialty places such as The Little Gym or Kid's Concept which is asking approximately $500 for the venue and a "party attendant," which just sounds absurd to me. and finally, there's the park, which is my personal favorite, but seeing as the kid's birthday is close to the end of October, the weather can be a bit dicey. i'm on the verge of just buying him another FABULOUS birthday cake & calling it a day.

all this talk about paying for a venue, and party favors, and a gift brings me back to the cost of raising a child on your own. because i like facts, i googled it and i found this:


(click to enlarge)

according to msn money's central, it will cost me approximately $250,000 to raise my son (which doesn't include the cost of college). when i think about that amount my mind is blown. it's so hard for me to wrap my mind around the money it takes to provide for my son, and going at it alone is even more stressful. i don't want him to miss out on anything simply because we are all we got (for right now), but i can't spend carelessly on gifts and parties either.

i was listening to This American Life the other day and they profiled Geoffery Canada and his project, The Harlem Children Zone. a friend of mind used to work there, and i was really intrigued and inspired by their work. Mr. Canada's mission is to provide education to the kids of Harlem from birth through college in the hopes that focusing on the child (not the parent) will help raise kids out of the cycle of poverty. listening to the broadcast solidified in my mind that no matter how much money you make, what matters is how much time and energy you invest on the things that actually count. reading to your child, letting him explore his world, tempering discipline, all of these things will mean more in the long run than how fabulous his 3rd birthday party was.

a.
it's a lazy day. for once, i don't have a sorority meeting to attend, or any other real plans for the day. my little brother borrowed my car, so we are also without wheels and the munchkin's stroller has been in the trunk of my mom's car ever since she picked us up from the airport last week, so walking is out (i ain't carrying no 34lb child to the park!). so we're stuck. bound to the house until further notice. it isn't so bad. i've been surfing the web looking up random things: music, real estate, the news, researching for a project i'm working on, reading a friend's manuscript & lots of other very random things. exciting, eh?

b.
i came across this song "Walk in My Shoes" by Emily King, & wanted to share it with y'all. i dig it. i love new artists. i'm sick of the same boring, preprogrammed songs we get on radio. i haven't really listened to the radio (except NPR) since i got my ipod, which has been great, but it has limited my exposure to new music. i like her voice. i miss listening to "real" music, whatever that really means. i'm sort of tired of listening to the songs i already love. i need fresh inspiration. new sounds and voices i can fall in love with.



c.
on some saturdays & sundays, either on the way to a hair appointment, or coming home from the early morning service at church, i tune into "This American Life" on NPR. the first episode i heard, "Harold" profiled Chicago's first black mayor, Harold Washington. i was totally enthralled by the adept storytelling of the show. until recently (old age?) i wasn't really into talk/news radio. but the older i get, the more impatient i become with the immaturity of urban radio. this show is a breath of fresh air. i am entertained and educated all at once. it has become a staple in my weekend routine. check it out.

what are you plans for the weekend? anything special?