Staying Tuned!

So I have decided that I am going to be one of those parents who doesn’t allow her children to watch television. I know. I know. I must be crazy right? Especially being a person who is 1) cable deprived and 2) can spend an entire Saturday afternoon in Rum Punch’s basement watching a Real Housewives (insert whatever city here) marathon (of course Rum Punch is out living her life and therefore isn’t there). I mean I remember actually snickering at the girl in my Spanish class who had no television in her house. She was such a weird-4.0 having, Harvard University on a full scholarship, sneaking to watch MTV at her friend’s house, probably rich as sh*t now-girl.

I mean I love television ya’ll. But I think children born after the great 80s have difficulty understanding that what they see on TV is not real, it’s for entertainment only! That for the most part, life ain’t like that even if it’s classified as reality. My coworker was talking about how her 12 year old sister got upset that she only got $40 to shop with at the mall. We are talking upset to the point that she threw a fit and was calling people names. Say what? Does this child know what I can do with $40? Can we say lunch for week, or a few new shirts at Target! But I ask what a 12 year old needs $40 for? And maybe my parents thought the same when I asked for the $20 that I spent on a movie ticket, some ice cream maybe something from Mickey D’s. And I’m almost sure I came back with change…I never said that it wasn’t enough. But we are in a recession now…

I guess in the world of My Sweet 16 and the Suite Life of Zack and Cody…showing these young folks faking like they earned the money they spend like the rich and fabulous; it’s hard for the young and impressionable viewer to realize that it ain’t their money…but the parents. I really don’t know because I am neither a psychologist or a parent. but I do feel like violence will ensure if my child looks at me sideways because I won’t allow them to have their way with my credit card. In my mind I can see how it’s just easier to let television working its soothing mind numbing magic.

But after watching an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race…which I found to be oh, so hilarious! And secretly I can’t wait to see the next episode. It blows my mind to think how a medium that once portrayed the likes of the Cosby kids less than 3 decades ago, has now expanded to show the fabulous thoughts and feelings of a Ms. BeBe Zahara Benet! You betta work it “girl”!

I don’t know ya’ll, I shudder to think about what our youngins will be exposed to in the years to come… Well actually I am shuddering more at the thought that maybe…they won’t be able to recognize reality from good ole entertaining fiction. But as a girl who loves tv but also enjoyed playing with cardboard boxes, I hope that there can be some sort of balance…so no one has to be that weird totally clueless kid in the class.

See You In Seven

be the right statistic

A stone’s throw from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, you have black school children running amok. And no ladies and gentlemen, there was not a track meet, football or basketball game being played. We have black high school students who don’t understand their ass is supposed to be gettin’ an education. Allegedly these petty mofos don’t like each other so a brawl ensued. “"People don't like each other, so they start fighting," said ninth-grader Tianna Taylor. ”It's wild. Crazy. Indescribable. . . . People fighting everywhere you look."” Ladies we have got to do better. "All indications are it might have occurred over something as minor as somebody pulling somebody's hair” on Monday. Next thing you know, "a large group of females engaging in just a big fight" in the lunchroom.

So of course police came and locked the school down. I wish I was a fly on the wall in the homes of these mofos because part of me wonders what they’re parents told them last night? I wonder if today their homeroom teachers might share this article by Courtland Milloy, Education is Still the Pathway to Freedom. Dammit, fools get an education. “And so it is today. With more than 40 percent of blacks failing to graduate from some of the nation's largest urban school systems…” Somebody tell these kids don’t be that statistic. Be this one: “Yet, if you really want to cut black unemployment, who better to look at than those of us who have jobs? What you'll see is a strong correlation between work and education…Of the 6.8 million black men who are employed, the vast majority have at least a high school diploma. Many have college degrees or diplomas from technical schools. The same is true for the 8.4 million working black women… Now, give them each a professional degree -- and the unemployment rate all but disappears.”

If you make it out of high school and you can’t read, write, or count – no one gives a fcuk. You’ll be another statistic and folks will just pity the fool. Damn, how many times do I have to reiterate the point!

cheers,

Bellini

saturday school

a few weeks ago I was chatting with rum punch about what it was like growing up in the south and how I wondered if my as yet unborn youngins would have the same experience. heck will my as yet unmet huzband have the same experience. having attended THE hbcu for black women, i've learned that black folks come in all kinds of varieties depending on where they or they people hail from: west indian, african, west coast, and the urrreaaa. and while at a majority white grad school, i encountered time and again black folks who had no idea about my experience growing up in the south. no clue about what it meant for me to know only that my peoples came from st. helena's island south cakalak and be unable to trace my heritage no further back.

so then i got to thinkin' dammit i want my kids to KNOW! cause what if i settle back in the northeast with my future family and my kids don't grow up in the south. or what if my husband doesn't share my story altho he might be "black" like me. what if he's second generation real african american or what if he's british black or grew up in laid back cali. how will i make sure that my kids will laugh when auntie rum punch wants to tell them about the world and the way things RRRRRRR.....dit dit dit dit!

every saturday morning i'm wakin' my kids up bright and early for a lil lesson.

The Arts
Pedagogy of the oppressed
the autobiography of malcolm x
the 23rd psalm and reciting it before school every morning
Attending a Black college homecoming (preferably the Marching 100)
Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes
The Elements
Learning the bus stop
Sparkle
The wiz
Five heartbeats
Boys in the hood
Amistad
Rosewood
School daze
Different world
Cosby show
Roots
Queen
the color purple

Life Skills Training
Cornrows with beads on the end
killing a flying cockroaches
Vacation bible school
Easter speeches
Walking in the mlk parade
Seeing a Klan robe up close and personal
Getting baptized in that secret compartment under the pulpit
Learning how put the needle on the record player
How to identify the nearest exit in .3 seconds when folks start runnin
how to play spades and how not to renig
Watchnight and candlelight communion
Singing in the junior choir with them hot robes
Going to Sunday school
Staying at Grandmama house for at least a weekend with no cable and no air conditioning
How to open and eat blue crabs with no utensils and no help from ya mama nem
Knowing what "mamanem" means
How to hit the floor when folks start shooting

Field Trips
Martin Luther the King Junior historic site
Bainbridge Georgia
Memphis tenn
st Helena's island
Family reunions

Cooking Class
Fish fry
oyster roast
low country boil
making a thrill
waffle house after the club


for my folks who were raised in the south or spent some quality time there, what would you add?

Good, Better, Best...Never Let it Rest

Hey y’all! Happy New Year and all that jazz! I hope everyone had a safe and great New Year’s Eve and Day. I know that I got my pork, black eyed peas and greens, so I hope 2009 treats me right! So last night after dinner, Bellini, Amaretto and I sat around and chatted. We talked about everything from Obama to the viability of HBCUs to Biggie vs. Tupac to recasting Waiting to Exhale (well at least Whitney Houston’s role). And somewhere in there we talked about today’s Black parents and whether or not they are properly equipping their children for the world.

I mentioned how one day my former boss (a Black woman) said to me, “Sometimes I don’t like for my kids to listen to Tom Joyner’s show, cause they get to talking that race stuff and I don’t want to them to hear all that.” Say what? Your kids do know they’re black right? And they do know what that means for better or for worse? Here were two girls, ages 10 and 13, attending a majority white girl private school, and saying things like, “those girls are soo smart.” Like they weren’t. Already feeling inadequate. Confidence shook. Coveting what the rich, white girls have and do. And you don’t want them to hear about race stuff? Um ok.

Here’s a Rum Punch story from the vault. Senior year of high school I took AP English. The teacher was in a word, crazy. No, two words, pure craziness. When we took practice exams I did really well on reading and interpreting passages. However, when we would have to write essays on our assigned literature, she stayed giving me low scores. And her patented phrase was, “I grade on the AP scale. So this is what you would get on the AP exam.” Ok this heffa was givin me 2s and 3s which translated into real life Cs in English on my report card. Now if you don’t know, a 4 is what you usually need to receive college credit. Best score is a 5.

Needless to say my confidence was shook. I pressed on. I worked harder. Met with the teacher. Tried to dig deeper and find extra symbolism in every aspect of every book we had to read. My mother even helped me with essays. And this woman didn’t change the score/grade she gave me. As the test date grew nearer, I said to my mom, “I don’t see why I should take that test. If she grades on the AP scale, I probably won’t pass.” Well Mama Rum Punch wasn’t having that. “Oh you’re taking that test.” And I did. And I scored a wait for it, wait for it, 5. And once the test results came in, my mother stormed off to the school, found my teacher and said, “In your face btich.” Or something like that. But knowing my mother it was probably just that.

That whole experience was truly a turning point in my life. Even though I had been told by so many people, my parents, extended family, friends of the family, and church folk that I was the best. It truly didn't crystalize until that moment when I was faced with the options of pressing on or running away. And so it hurt my heart to hear my boss's children say they were less than and not have their mother, stop in her tracks and dispute that fact. Let them know their history. Who they are and what they're made of. And make sure they let no one tell them differently. I'm thankful that I was pushed past what I thought was my potential. And if even today I were to fix my lips to doubt myself, Mama Rum Punch would give me the look. That girl you musta fell and bumped your head and lost your mind look. And the moment would pass. And I'd be ready to take on the world once again. Because that's what I was raised to do.

That's my time y'all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

dysfunctional tales, vol. i

So a cousin of mine has 4 kids and she’s not 30, nor did she commence having children in her 20s. Over the weekend, I spent some time with 2 of her kids (both girls). So the littlest one was eager to tell me she had books – the initial indicator that the girl is smart and is willing to learn, so I told her to show me. The child is 5 and is in kindergarten – remember this tidbit as the story evolves…

She gets the book and I point to each word in the title, however she’s creating her own title. Initially, I thought it was being done in jest, but as we turned the pages to the book she couldn’t logically sound out words. So, then I blurt out “Can you read?” And she says "yeah" a pet peeve of mine – it’s YES. So, I point to the word ‘the’ – and her response is a singular letter ‘a’ or ‘i’ – clearly my ass is lost. So, I close the book and ask do you know your alphabet. She retorts, “A, B, C, D, EFG, H, I, JK, LMP… just because she half-ass knows the song doesn’t mean she knows her alphabet. So, now I ask the easiest question of them all – spell your name… A.. y – enough, she doesn’t know how to spell her name.

Time for plan B.

"Get me a sheet of paper, I’m going to write the alphabet." Interestingly enough, she brought me writing tablet paper and not regular college ruled paper—that was a second indicator that the girl is smart and nobody is working with her. So, I write her the alphabet, capital and lowercase letters adjacent to each other and on the final line I write her first and last name. After the letters and her name were written, I began to quiz her on phonics. "What begins with A – name me a fruit, what begins with B — name a color…" This is the process I follow until we hit all 26 letters. So, I inform her that the next time I see her she needs to know how to spell her first name.

Now did the adults really think just because the proper tools were present for thriving learning environment, that osomosis would take place and ooze through the girl's brain and BAM -- she's a reader?

In this household on this given Sunday was the mother, grandmother, and grandfather. Mom is upstairs watching “Two Can Play that Game”, Pa Pa is yapping on the phone, and grandma is watching t.v. and braiding her great neice’s hair. The grandmother was present for my mini-school session. And she claims, "I had no idea all this summer the littlest one couldn’t spell her name." Lord forgive me, but had you struck her ass Bellini would have understood right then and there.

You have a child willing and eager to learn and no adult can put their fucking life on mute and dote on the child.

Ironically enough, I asked the Mother during the beginning of the school year how the 5 year old was adjusting to school and she replied “just fine”. Clearly “just fine” means two different things. I had the impression that she was on point as a 5 year old: could read, or was an emergent reader, identify letters of the alphabet, understood the phonetics of sounds, etc. cue Deneice Williams “Silly of me…” Be’cuz that’s what 'just fine' meant to me.

Unfortunately, the parents seem indifferent to the window of opportunity children have; where there could never be endless of hours of learning and their engagement is full throttle, it will be sad if this little girls aptitude for learning diminishes in the same year she officially started grammar school. And I pity the schoolteacher who has to teach this girl, but can not count on the parents to do their part. And folks holler and shout about the state of public schools, and yet the assumption is parents are doing their part, when clearly that is not the case.

So, I leave with you an op-ed piece from William Raspberry – a former Washington Post columnist during the 90’s who wrote provocative opinions about the state of black America.
Enjoy this kick-ass piece featured in the Post yesterday.

cheers,

Bellini

state of affairs, vol.ii--education chronicles

It's been 6 onths since I last broached this subject. And after viewing CNN over the weekend and mulling over Soledad O'Brien's special--Reclaiming the Dream, I learned something about black folks. Half of us are elitists-- and it doesn't necessarily mean they're pompous or arrogant. We mean well, but sometimes we must admit we're clueless. Okay Bellini, what are you gettin' at?

So, there was a segment on education-- how to increase the graduation rates of the youth. And, so they feature an economist (and forgive me be'cuz I can't recall the brotha's name) whose applying his theories into practice in a school district in Texas. And one of his solutions is to pay the students money to learn -- a nominal fee ~$250 for the year. Dr. Juliane Malveaux, another renowned economist and college president (Bennett College), wasn't having it. She couldn't fathom giving children money to learn and of course she was wating for the logitudinal study to affirm or undermine the other economist's theory. I must admit 5 years ago, I would have shared the same sentiments as Dr. Malveaux. But now, not so sure. I say go ahead and give the students the money. A friend of mine who teaches at an inner-city arts magnet high school has acknowledged that the students aren't amped up to do projects or extra without the lure of the carrot ta da money! Damn, his it come to this?

My rationalization for giving the students money is this: if students are more inclined to do their studies and perform better due to the lure of money --is that a bad thing-- when we have an exceedingly high dropout rate? And if we can grasp a child's attention from grammar school thru secondary school and perhaps they'll have greater self-assuredness to complete high school and thus graduate. And maybe I'm reaching (hold on folks), but perhaps the kids will associate brain power with higher pay and understand their worth?

When did it all get so complicated and convoluted like this ?

For those of you who don't agree, you're probably an elitist. Sorry folks, I got to call it as I see it. Unless you're able to state otherwise. And I will remind you being an elitist ain't doing the current generation or the next generation of children any good. The inner-city students is facing a different set of issues than most have been accustomed too.

If you're able to view CNN tonight (i think 9p.m. EST) they will debut their 2 part-series: Being Black in America. Watch it.


cheers,

Bellini

It's bigger than you and I

Over the weekend, my cousin matriculated and received her MBA. It was truly a family affair. The Bellini clan was very proud, we partied, popped champagne, and spread the love with friends. My Dad roasted my cousin, reminder her and attendees that this moment is bigger than all of us. And that we must take things for granted and strive to improve conditions for ourselves and look out for others. Have you ever seen the movie Annapolis (starring Tyrese) and the scene in the beginning where the character Marcus Nance is thumbing through the slides on his lap top – looking at home. The pride the town –not just the family- felt that he was accepted in a prestigious institution. That’s how it is for the Bellini clan. So, the spiel I hear all the time -- has resonated with me a long time ago – since I was little girl. Now what has dawned on me the older I’ve gotten is that my existence is an anomaly. What’cha ya saying Bellini?

It was not until I reached college, that I realized how far we have to come. Remember back when I shared that my bread ‘n’ butter major is political science – well of the classes I took to satisfy my major’s requirements—oftentimes than not I was the only person of color in a sea of white folks. Now, if you know me that is not problematic – that’s been the story of my life. But, what I didn’t realize is that for many of us – we are used to being amongst each other and everyone else composes our periphery (i.e. the mainstream). And that we either feel out of place, ashamed, and/or yet inferior to our surroundings. Here’s a situation that still haunts me today.

Last year I traveled to Chicago for work, I had dinner on the southside – after being the minority /anomaly all day, I needed reacclimation with my kinfolk. As I order a martini as an ice breaker, so I could mellow out. I remember all the stares I received maybe be’cuz I was young Bellini has a baby face, dining alone, and in business suit. Folks seemed to have trouble grasping their minds around the image. I’m not sure why – (on a sidenote- I remember sharing my encounter w/ dark’n’stormy and she was like why did you eat alone implying why I didn’t dine with my colleagues—well, a girl has to eat on company travel or not, second I had decided days prior to my trip that I was dining on the southside and I didn’t bother to invite colleagues I’m trying to wine down and not be pc about shit all night.

So, my waitress decides to ask the burnin’ question. And I told her my profession, why I was in town, blah, blah… She then shares she’s in school tryin’ barely holding on… that she has no family support. Family is undermining her goals and wasn’t sure if she should push on. My mouth dropped to the floor not be’cuz I know everyone didn’t grow up the way I did, but be’cuz the stakes were too high for her. And that I knew she needed a conviction to finish and that usual place to receive such affirmation comes from the home and that she couldn’t obtain support from there. Damn.

I have never felt so hopeless in my life. To add insult to injury all my business cards were in my hotel room—I can’t recall if I gave her my mobile? She couldn’t see the light at the end of tunnel and you know what happens why you don’t have faith—you will retreat. And I attempted to stress to her to not give in too temptation. That life ain’t easy, that her soul needed her to finish ‘cuz she knew deep down inside she was making the right decision. And yet, I’ve also learned in life that some messages must come from certain people or else risk having no significance at all. It’s sad, but that’s a stark truth I’ve come to accept, but that doesn’t mean it absolves my responsibility from inspiring hope and droppin’ jewels of knowledge ‘cuz if I don’t who will. Are you? Now, Bellini is not hear to preach, it just ain’t my style, but please remember shit is bigger than you and I.

cheers,

Bellini

state of affairs, vol. i

Anyone who knows me, know that I am a die-hard advocate of public schools. I for one, was reared in public schooling. I remember when my dad contemplated enrolling me in a exclusive private school for high school -- how dare he -- you know Bellini stood firm and won her ground. Now as an adult, I am a bit more receptive to the horror studies of inner-city public schooling. People have been telling me there is a difference, my public schooling came from the suburbs of a top 5 school district in the nation. As my girl from Philly would tell me, I might as well have been enrolled in private school. My naivete.

Education is 50% attitude: I can do it, I will make the attempt . . . kinda of attitude. Half of the problem beseiging our inner-city public schools is attitude. I hear stories of kids cussin' in class huh, throwing things at a teacher wtf, and not doing shit get the f*** out then, it's just appalling to me. You don't believe me, take a glance at an inner city school in the nation's capital (it's not even considered the worst). I wouldn't dare disrespect an adult and as adult now myself -- I wish a muthf***a would disrespect me? Is this what the state of a black education has come too. Yes, I say black -- 'cuz for the most part most of us still live in the innercity and the problem schools: underperforming, overpopulated, etc. . . are found there. I've observed kids that have no desire to exercise their basic manners -- I know you all have seen the roughnecks on public transporation -- just loud, ignornat, ignant and they revel in that shit. Where is the self-respect? The lack of is problematic -- indeed. Then I wonder how their parents are raising them and subsequently I ask what are their parents attitude?

I think partial to the problem is that parents don't have the expected attitude and so their kids do not. Let's not forget education is a community partnership. Parents hold teachers accountable and in return teachers hold parents accountable, thereby bolstering the foundation of the child -- it's a no-brainer to me. The child understands they must perform to the best of their ability. And yes, I do think the equation is linear in that fashion.

Let's put things in historical context for a moment.
50 years ago or 1 generation, black folks were dirt poor but we excelled in school with bare scrappings -- old textbooks, decrepit buildings, etc. . . we walked miles just to get to school and wore our "Sunday best" in the process. We barely have our foot in the door while folks are trying to slam the door on our foot. We've gone from "Sunday best" to pants hangin' off the ass, shoelaces untied, and whatever else you observe. I am a proponent of self-expression, but there is a time and place for everything.

For the most part, higher education is still a novelty in the black community. Yet, it is incomprehensible why we won't even strive to get the basics in education.

Time to rewind the clock.


cheers,

Bellini