Attitude… What?

For so many people, there is the belief that attitudes make a difference. In most cases, it’s probably correct. A positive attitude can get you on the right track to success. A can-do attitude can aid your effort to achieve. A humble attitude can open doors with the right person, and so forth and so on.

What brings the question of attitudes is a conversation about race relations in America. It was an eye opener that some people believe Black folks are whiners and need a better attitude. Before you jump to a conclusion let me explain. Because it shocked me when I read it, then I thought well…

Having the right attitude is important. I mean, it’s like why complain when black people should sit down and take atrocities as a way of life. Oh, let me get to the point. Race in America is not yet utopia, people still have bias, police have been documented as being bias or quick to exploit situations into conditions that were not present in the beginning. Some people jump to conclusions on situations simply because of color. It’s all factual and proven over and over again. Here’s the gotcha on attitude.

The person claims black whine, shouldn’t use their platform to fight or protest, shouldn’t want equality in society, and blacks and Hispanics get handouts and their attitudes are as if it’s their right to receive goods or services from the government, based on race. The person complained about Kaepernick, and Micheal Bennet about their protest on a pro football platform. To them, Black Lives Matter is a terrorist group. And to top it off, the reason Michael Bennet was arrested or picked out was that of disorderly conduct, which was never identified in the article until after his letter to the public.

Regardless of the impact on race in America, the argument was black folks should have a better attitude to stand against mistreatment, or to voice your stand against racism or unjust or unwarranted acts against people. Attitude, is the difference? It took me to years ago in the South where blacks weren’t allowed to look at white people in the eyes. A time where Native Americans were forced to change their names to English. A time when Japanese were interned based on race.  This is the attitude the voice wanted. The Make America Great Again era.

The final part of the discussion hit even harder when one person said, “Tax Dollars Educated Michael Bennet so he can be a Millionaire ball player…” My point is, didn’t Micheal Bennet’s parents pay taxes like anyone else? So, to that point, since tax dollars paid for education, a good black attitude is to sit down and shut up, don’t make people see injustice by the platform that millions are exposed to.

Attitude… What???

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The Descension Counts

There isn’t a mystery behind certain behaviors. One person may see the light as a guide, but another may see it as a warning of hell. The divide is from our basic acknowledgement of what is or what is not or living by what some call squandering their enabling rights.

When I walk in the park, I see Americans of all nationalities and ethnicities. I walk not knowing who was born here, nor who is an ex-pat of some other country. I don’t know a racist or a bigot, based on looks. It’s supposed to be this way, so I grew up with the idea.

Today, I’m reminded again how different we are. That walk in the park is now identifying my neighbor who is working diligently for the good of the family, has community values, and enjoys the fruit of his labor, now looks over his shoulder for immigration. He went to high school down the street and landed a job where he’s on a track for success.  What neighbor are you addressing when we talk about DACA?

I’m shocked at the way I’m reminded that one person is better than another. We make up situations to create fear in people when we want the popular vote or public support. It’s an old concept I saw used in segregation. It’s something I felt every time I achieved a position or saw a person of color rise. The excuse is Affirmative Action as if it’s a handout, not a push for equality.

It’s simply my opinion on how we see the light at the end of the day. Do we continue down this path of descension? We push everything away that doesn’t give a warm fuzzy to the privilege.  If this is continued, it’s only time when the tide will turn and those pressing the issue becomes the objects of their own oppression.

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Don’t You Get Tired?

Many times a day I run across a writer’s profile. It jumps out with a simple claim. “Best Selling Author” and I’m surprised, simply because I am the kind of person who asks questions.

I don’t mean to doubt anyone’s claim but how can the majority of people with books, become best sellers? It’s like saying, “I’m the best ball player ever, and only played for one year, a season, and it was in the minor league.” I mean, how does one claim to be a best seller when there is no level to suggest the definition.

I don’t really mean to call people out with self-proclamation, but I’m doing it because I get tired of seeing the false acclaim to success. I know you have to believe in yourself but the level of success is barely what most achieve.

Don’t you get tired of disappointment after they are done with the illustration of success? I sure am.

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Don’t Get Discouraged

She had no idea the light of day was ahead. Her eyes were closed. Her body trembled and would stop, then sweat beads formed on her forehead. It had to have been a rough sleeping experience. Either she dreamed the worst or her body was changing.

She woke to the sound of a car horn. Like the jolt of the earthquake she moved. Her position changed from being horizontal to sitting, and the break of sunlight beamed through the window shade. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room as if something or someone had visited.

Within minutes of her stare, the radio alarm blared static instead of the usual talk show. It grew in volume the longer she delayed rising from bed. She put her feet on the floor and walked to the radio on the dresser across the room. She touched the alarm button and the electric current surprised her. The radio hit the floor and the back popped open. The electrical burning odor tingled her nose. She quickly unplugged it and left the heated radio where it lay.

The day started with a bad dream, an unbearable noise, and a burned out radio. Were these events a warning of times ahead? Whatever you may think, God has a plan in spite of weird events. Your day in any capacity is a true blessing. You are alive <3.

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The Greatest Fight of All

Differences are the root of all evil. One may persuade their argument against an idea while embracing another. Or another may push their objective to the forefront without consideration of those deeply impacted. We tend to call these politics, however, it’s the root of disagreements.

Disagreements are based on differences. Let me explain. Differences are of race, ethnicities, and cultures. We differ in beliefs with religion, define God in ways one may follow but others reject. We discuss relationships with the supreme being like we tend to filter sunlight. It’s a disagreement based on difference where our passion throws the first punch.

Though we fight based on disagreements, we battle for life on a totally different front. It’s not the political stand battling difference from party to party. That isn’t the fight. It’s not the race baiting hatred that separates us from uniting for a common good. No, that isn’t the greatest fight either. So what is the greatest fight? It’s cancer! This disease is the war from all battles. It takes your best friend, your family member, or your greatest supporter from this earth. Or it makes you fall deep into a spiral of debt and depression, only to possibly face it again.

Cancer attacks on multiple levels. It’s the assault from a foreign enemy who lives within. We don’t know when it will strike, nor know when it hits the hardest, but once it does, the impact is beyond imaginable. The destruction is emotional, the wounds are physical, and the fight for health is never easy.

Cancer is one of our society’s greatest enemies. The destruction it causes is implausible, determined to make every person fall to their knees, in fear, in agony, and depresses the strongest. The greatest fight of all is battling cancer.

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When The Bell Tolls

The sound, the bung, ringing in the ear long after the initial metal to metal vibration, carried beyond the sight of the tower. It lingers in the air, even on a cloudy day, short of a half minute. It shocked me at first because it was the second ring of the day, and I looked at my watch to see the time.

Noon was approaching in 30 minutes. It had to be some significant reason this towered bell rang on the half hour. Like many cities, the people set clocks to indicate a moment for reaction. This was exact, as I had noticed doors closing at nearby shops and restaurant doors opened, that had earlier closed.

I took a seat at a coffee shop and observed the infiltration of people on the street. I was amazed how the street that was once scarce is now full of pedestrians. You can tell the ritual was important to their society. I blinked to a comparison to my home in Georgia, at 11:30 am, no bell rings but traffic picks up and individual movement around office buildings becomes intense.

It donned on me that when the bell had rung in the town I visited, the people were focused but happy, happy about lunch time? I wondered why and I inquired with a local. “It’s family time,” he responded. “Look over there,” he pointed across the street. I was amazed at what I saw. Kids, wife, lunch basket, and the energy of it was something short of admirable.

Why short of admiring the lunch with family, or the daily run if family being together? I had to look inside at first and imagined how anyone could do this without losing jobs. And then it hit me. Family time is important in this society, much greater in comparison to our American culture. Family means doing everything throughout the day. The family is a structure of support, a combination of important roles where everything is in regards to unity, survival, and happiness.

The bell was the indicator of quality, the freeze of a hustling city/town, to remember the importance of life. Like my counterpart at the coffee shop said, “It’s what we do and have done for generations.” I nodded and then remembered if I had my family time with my dad, mom, grand parents, I too would have enjoyed spending more time with my kids. Maybe we should incorporate a bell for the American culture. A bell to indicate family time in the midst of a work day. Maybe our social problems may decrease because of it. MAybe our kids will be better developed in general. Maybe we get the best of all worlds.

What do you think?

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Right on Time

Here it is, the fear of losing, the fear of hate, the fear of facing the detriment of a personal effort. It’s standing in front of me like the beacon of night, clearing my path. It’s the wind behind the sail on a mini boat without oars. And it’s the flowing current aiding the power of nature’s blow. Nothing stops the journey because it’s out of my hands. And this is where fear beats like the jazz drummer making loud rhythmic drops.

This bell rings on the harbor buoy warning of hazardous conditions. It’s guiding sound helps me navigate to safety. The wind, the sail, and the current takes me and I have seen the destiny but I’m not sure where it lands me, but wherever it is, it’s safe from the sea.

I write this because I hear from so many who are fighting for health. I share this because they to fear, but not of failure but of death. They see a beacon of hope, they hear the noise of aids, and their spirit feels the love most give supporting their journey.

To this day, I’m on my knees in prayer. I’m giving thanks and asking for those in sickness to endure the healing process. I’m praying for serenity, their fight to be calm and positive as medicine puts them on the path to healing. I’m praying for a short turnaround, and direct positive impact to all who supports them.

The sea isn’t the devil, the current isn’t hell, the wind isn’t a fallen angel, and the overall end is not at the hands of sickness. I’m sure of it because if God wants them quickly, their life would end. If they’re fighting, they’re living and there is hope.

I may fear losing my best friend, losing a mother, a brother, a father and losing a better part of me. But I ride the tide, listen to the warning bells and avoid the hazards, simply to support those in need. I haven’t crashed on the sandy shore or against the huge rocks near the cliff, because I heed those warnings. But it’s not about me, it is about God’s gift of healing those who are sick. And I’m one of the supporters who wants the best for all involved.

Help me aid others by lifting a prayer of support. Give your positive energy to those in need. Send a friend a love note, a get well card, or simply visit and touch their hand, so they feel your vibe. If nothing else, at least call them and share a smile. Lift their spirit so we can enjoy them again. When you do any of these things, realize your effort is “Right on Time!”

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