i would die 4 u

I’m not your lover. I’m not your friend. I’m something that you’ll never comprehend.” – Prince Rogers Nelson

Disclaimer: Jonesitis is a terrible disease. In most cases, people  suffer from envy, low self-esteem, comparing themselves to others and procrastination. Many people are troubled from this ailment daily, but have been undiagnosed for many years. The only known cure for Jonesitis is to become more self-aware of the individual beauty that one possess. 

purple rainThere is a sadness that comes with acknowledging that I am created in the likeness of God- meaning there is a piece of God  within me that makes me a god. Stepping into the knowledge that I can think a certain  way and be able to connect with my immediate environment and change the climate is quite heavy. With this knowledge I have the power to feel a certain way.

Jealousy can be an ugly thing when you crave attention. Low self-esteem can cause you to feel unworthy of the love and acceptance that we desperately seek.

Dig if you will the picture:

You have a lover that stays three states away. He/She visits sporadically and you also talk on the phone sporadically. During all of these spasms of warm fluffy feelings you have gentlemen/ladies more than willing to pacify your affinity for attention…. You, suffering from Jonesitis, have a chance to not give into your cravings but actually try to ween yourself off of your temporary high of feeling loved…..

What’s a dinosaur to do when there are kids on the ice? on ice

I reckon this angst is how the Supreme Creators feel when we become negligent towards Them. It seems as if everything is more important- work,money, fashion, friends, lovers, children, pets, jabberwockies. We are constantly texting, blogging, Facebook-ing, picking our noses that we tend to forget to say “Thank you”.

Thank you for another day of life. Thank you for a nose to pick. Thank you for the strength to carry on now that Prince is dead. Thank you for the ability to write.

Jealousy is unoccupied time. It is never too late to depend on the God who created us to acknowledge the god within us. Taking time to acknowledge this Presence may cause us to make choices out of necessity instead of disparity. The longing for love is the Supreme Creators’ way of telling the creators in us that They are with us and around us and They  need to be acknowledged.

We cannot control how others will divvy out their love towards us but we can rest assured that Supreme Love will never end.



I think that the world would be a lot better off if more people were to define themselves in terms of their own standards and values and not what other people said or thought about them. -Hillary Clinton

In my neighborhood sits a  50-year old school that almost everyone in my town has attended. The school started as a junior high school then evolved into an elementary school in which I attended in the early 90’s. During my time as a student there, the school was awarded as a school of excellence and to me was a magical land of education. When I was younger, I imagined my children attending this educational institution so that they could experience the same joys that I once felt, but over the years the school’s reputation had taken a dramatic decline.

Nevertheless, I had the privilege to do so and I also became involved with the school’s PTA better-lifeand School Council, until recently when I discovered that my 3rd grade daughter was close to being retained. Though I had many conferences with her teachers and kept her in tutoring programs, my daughter’s grade continued to take a dive.

After talking to my mother who had been an educator for more than 25 years, we decided that my daughter needed an ‘better’ environment and enrolled her into the school that my mother worked. I talked to the principal- who had been my mentor for years; and I relayed to him how much I didn’t want to send my daughter to another school.

“You have to do what’s best for your child Ms. Ladson.” was his only response.

In fact, every  time I open up about this situation, I’m met with this same expression.

“You have to do what’s best for your child Ms. Ladson.”

What could be better than walking my daughter to school every morning? Or talking with her teachers face to face? Or being able to enjoy eating lunch with her and her friends? What could be better than my daughter taking pride in her school that is right in her community?

To these questions- I continue to draw a blank.

In my opinion, the school isn’t a bad school because of it’s location. The school is a bad tomorrowschool because of the bad thoughts that people think towards the facility and the inhabitants of the community. The neighborhood is bad because the residents think of it as a trash can or a ghetto.

There is no better place than where we are right now. There is no better school than the schools in our neighborhoods. There is no one better to clean up our communities than us. There is no love better that the love we have for ourselves.


Gettin’ Kinda Heavy


How many times have we walked by a piece of trash on the ground or knew that something was out-of-place and we had the time to stop and fix it but decided not to? How many times have we said that “something needs to be done” but have never taken the time to do that something?

I recall a summer’s day on my porch…….

Music was in the air and the sweet aroma of BBQ filled my lungs. My daughter and I sat on the porch enjoying one another and the entertainment of the neighborhood children. As we sat, a group of young missionaries walked past the porch talking amongst themselves when one of the missionaries kicked a piece of trash that was in the middle of the sidewalk. Another missionary noticed that the missionary didn’t bend down to pick up the trash and made a remark about what had just transpired.

“Everyone else walked by it.” The chastised missionary said in her defense and kept on walking.

That response totally licked the red off of my apple! Even though it was true- which was probably hoodthe real reason for my reaction- I got up and picked up the piece of trash and said loudly: “Well, let me be the first to pick it up!”

I mean really! Can you believe the nerve of some people? Isn’t that what missionaries are trained to do? Aren’t they supposed to go out of their way to pick up or fix the things that are broken in this world?

I fumed for about an hour, wondering how could someone be so blatantly disrespectful. Then I realized that I should only be mad at myself.

Then the LORD turned to him and said, “Go with the strength you have, and rescue Israel from the Midianites. I am sending you!” Judges 6:14

Not only did I see the piece of trash, I had witnessed children and adults alike kick, throw, Heavyride over and even play with the trash that was ignored by the missionaries. I was more responsible for that missionary’s view of trash than anyone else. It was true that I had not said anything to anyone about the trash until an outsider came into my neighborhood and decided not to do what I had deemed as their responsibility.

When we pass on the responsibility of our neighborhoods to someone else we forfeit our right to say anything. Until we say – “This is my community! I learn here. I play here. I grow here. I deserve a place to thrive and be happy.” – we have to look forward to being disappointed by the people we ‘think’ should fix us.



Silver & Gold

” Winners forget that they are in a race, they just love to run.”  – Fortune Cookie

Disclaimer: Jonesitis is a terrible disease. In most cases, people  suffer from envy, low self-esteem, comparing themselves to others and procrastination. Many people are troubled from this ailment daily, but have been undiagnosed for many years. The only known cure for Jonesitis is to become more self-aware of the individual beauty that one possess. 

My former employer was a community based organization that was always involved in different outings. One of my favorite ventures was a big cookout that featured local bands. The goal of the cookout was to raise money and donate it to trackthe organization that would come out and sell raffle tickets during the event. It was like the Woodstock for non-profit organizations and I loved the scene.

One year, the Executive Director and I had this crazy notion that we would make tie-dye shirts ( but that’s another story for another day).

The following year, we decided that it would be best to pick a color that everyone could wear orange. I was sent to the Goodwill to find shirts for everyone. As I scanned the racks, I found what seemed to be a baseball jersey with the number 2 on it- I fell in love with it. Since I was the Administrative Assistant, I had the advantage of claiming ‘ grabbies’ when our company received clothing donations- and I used this perk every chance I got.  Like this memory, I still have this shirt and I wear it often.

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” – Zora Neale Hurston

The year I picked this shirt I had an answer for why I initially became smitten with the 2nd hand jersey that bore the number 2. I said that aiming for 2nd place was easier than going for the gold and I was perfectly fine with being known as the other girl. I even posed the question: If the number 2 pencil was the most commonly used pencil, why was it number 2?

Though I seemed perfectly fine with being 2nd best, I was not perfectly fine with being 2nd best- and my actions and reactions resounded louder than my words. I needed the praise and admiration of my peers and I was willing to gain it by any means necessary. I constantly  found myself competing with not only others, but myself as well- always trying to ricky bobbyprove my relevance  to the company.  This struggle spilled over into my social media profiles with many rants about how intellectually superior I am compared to others and the blocking of anyone who disagreed. I was an attention tyrant who could not be stopped…

Then, I found myself unemployed.

I was lower than number 2, I wasn’t even in the race. For two years, I had considered myself one of the pillars of an establishment but now found myself alone in a desolate place. I was forced to examine the thoughts, actions and deeds that had gotten me to this place. I began with the jersey situation.

Why was I trying to convince myself that I was willing to be overlooked?

Was I really okay with playing second fiddle?

These questions plagued my thoughts causing me to take an inventory of myself.  My tyrannical reign did not begin at my former employer, it began when I became an older sister-I willingly confess that I do suffer from Middle Child Syndrome. The birth of my sister evoked my need for competition. For about three years I was the only girl and had the adoration of my family. It was not hard for me to claim the spotlight because I was the center of the universe-or so it seemed. Then one morning, my brother and I were riding in the back of a truck that had a U-Haul connected to it. I fell asleep talking with my brother. I woke up and had a baby sister.

To my understanding, there were other instances that had transpired but I can only remember these glimpses of the past.

Overnight, I went from being the adorable little baby to the older sister- a position that I was unready to fill at the time. I being-mary-jane-speechwent from tea parties with my brother to coloring by myself in my room. I immediately started to act out for my well deserved attention, but unfortunately those attempts did not turn out so well for myself (or my rear-end). After a while, I had gotten immune to the whippings and punishments,  I began to do more life altering things. I had a daughter at the age of 14; barely graduated high school; married and divorced by 21 – the list goes on. I was willing to pay a high price for my attention fix and no one was going to come between me and my high.

Since the birth of my sister I made destructive decisions to prove my worth among both my family and other peers. This behavior has brought a strain between me and my sister, but throughout this tumultuous time, she has been my voice of reason and best friend throughout my life. She has taught me the power of self-discipline and determination and has always been proud to call me big sister. Her birth was only placing me in second by birth order, not in my worth.

Competition forces us to compare ourselves to others. When we decide to compare ourselves, we lose out on the opportunity to learn a new trait or gain a different perspective of life.

Society teaches us that there is only room for one winner so we fight our way to the top. We do whatever it takes to be number one. We do things, most times unconsciously, that could detour our fellow-man from reaching their goals and dreams. When we realize that everyone that enters our lives  helps us to grow as individuals, we begin to see people for what they are- Divine teachers.

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She’s A Lady

‘Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.’ Nicolo Machiavelli

My daughter has one of the best imaginations. I can send her to her room for a “punishment” but no matter how or why I send her up there, she always ends up having a blast. One of her favorite things she likes to pretend to be is a teacher or a secretary- two of the career choices that she has seen me perform. She likes it better when I play along with her, but she can have the time of her life without my presence just the same.

Yesterday was such a great day that we decided to play a new game- investigation.  Let me tell ya, this girl could put Horatio out of business, she really looks for all of the details. I was to play someone who was getting investigated. So, my first character was a mild mannered woman who had never been investigated and she was absolutely terrified of being around an investigator. During the theatrics, I had to step away for a moment, but when I returned, my daughter the director was ready for me to change my character’s position.

“Mommy, I know I’m a kid, but I need you to woman up for me.” she declared.

“I am playing a woman.” I respond.

“No mama, I need you to woman up. Don’t be afraid. You know how kids tell other kids- be a woman about it.” she responded.

I was taken aback by my daughter’s orders, how would she or any child ever know about being a woman at such a young work_at_home_momsage?

Then it hit me- I thought the same thing when I was her age. Growing up in a single parent home taught me a lot about the roles I would soon play in life. Though my mother worked hard to take care of my siblings and I, she also felt like her home was incomplete without a father figure.This made me view my mother as a weakling. By the time I was in the third grade, I was learning about how women could do anything that they wanted and here was my mother sitting around crying over a man not being present.

Television also made a huge impact on my views of womanhood. Many of the images that I saw were of middle class European women who were in control of themselves and big corporations as well. They made the bacon and also cooked it without shedding a single tear or murmuring a complaint. The images of  African- American women were of either strong, and driven women or highly paid prostitutes.

These many  images became the seasonings that created my contorted jambalaya of what womanhood should have been and my mother was not holding up that standard. She was the urban version of June Cleaver- nurturing, loving and repulsively submissive. It was like she was stuck in a 1950’s musical and  I was a 90’s hiphop video. I knew that I was going to be the leader of the pack and no man was going to out do me. I would never allow a man to tell me when to come and go and most definitely not tell me  to cook him supper. I was a material girl living in a material world and I wanted to know what have you done for me lately.

“It’s so disappointing to see some of these young girls that will never know what it’s like to be a woman. Not in age but in actions.” – Maurice Johnson

My perception of my mother changed when I became a mother and it continues to change daily with the many women I come into contact with.  With each passing day I become more and more aware of how my actions impact my daughter’s frotasticdaily interactions and I begin to change my patterns slowly but surely.

One of my biggest patterns is pretending to be strong when I am faced with adversity. This thought has been the driving force of my life. I must be tough and show the world that I can make it without anyone’s help- especially a man’s help. I don’t have to depend on a man to pull me through my hardest times, I have the power within to make my life complete.This thought I have found to be true to a certain extent: Though I believe that women can do anything that they put their minds to, I cannot deny the fact that men are needed in this world. No matter how liberal one may feel, babies cannot be produced without egg and sperm- point blank.

As I have grown I have learned that being submissive is not being weak, it is actually strength. It takes a lot to keep calm and cool when someone is getting on your last nerve or seems to be barking orders at you. Though my mother chose to be humble it did not subtract from her inner strength that rose to each and every occasion that presented itself. My mother worked hard to ensure that her three children attained a quality education and that they became productive citizens.

Strength is not being able to win every fight it is being able to decipher when to fight.

Let us not underestimate the “plain Jane” women who choose to devote their lives to raising their families with humility. Not every woman is fist fighting or breaking dishes at the dinner table. There are women who honor their husbands  and find it not strange to ask for their guidance. These women are also hard workers and some are even business owners. They are not primitive nor are they weak. They are my mentors, teachers, aunts, and mother. Their Divine wisdom illuminates my ever growing path.

 If you like this or any other posts on this blog and would like to read more please check out our magazine edition: Find A Way The Print Magazine


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Love Bizaare

“Lord, what fools these mortals be.” -William Shakespeare

For many years, I depended on the radio and movies to tell me what love was truly supposed to be like.  I thought that love was flowers, candy and someone standing outside holding up a radio playing my favorite song. I believed that I would wake up to breakfast in bed every morning and candle lit dinners every evening. Love would provide a nice house, car and shoes to make sure that I was happy and satisfied. Love would call me every half hour to inform me of the passion

say-anything3that burned inside and only my presence would quench the inferno that blazed. Love would relinquish all of my fears of unworthiness and would glorify me as the queen that I was. I decided that love was about perfecting the moment and the only arguments that should take place was about who loved who the most.

These images were my rubric that I based my relationships upon and anyone who did not meet my criteria would quickly be removed from my life. Valentine’s Day was always the way that I could determine if someone truly cared about me, the more extravagant it was regulated the person’s affection for me. This one day became a magic wand that made any other problems vanish. At one point in my life, I would overlook lies and two-timing just to receive something on Valentine’s. I  would also forget the verbal and physical abuse that I had allowed in my life because I needed someone to be involved with by February 14th. Unfortunately, I did not realize until many failed relationships later that love was more than material possessions and love songs.

After a while, I began to give up on love- thinking that it was made only for certain people. I began to ruminate on the unsuccessful liaisons that had taken place in my life. I began to think that I was unworthy of love and began to settle for being a part-time lover to those who would sneak away for a couple of moments of pleasure. I would unscrupulously involve myself with guys who were unable to give or receive love, forcing myself to believe that that was the only way to get the love and attention that I deserved.

“We all want the stuff that’s found in our wildest dreams.” – Sheila Escovedo

love-is-you-love-30949107-960-854As I have grown I have discovered that love begins within ourselves. Love reaches deep inside and provides a compass of how we want others to treat us. Love encourages us to be patient  with ourselves and one another. Love produces a light that cannot be blown out by the lack of material trappings and refuses to leave us in a state of pain. Love is being able to accept our human  imperfections and meet each other at the soul level.  Love is given to everyone and it is our duty to nurture and cultivate it.

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In The Name Of

“The tendency to turn human judgement into divine commands makes religion one of the most dangerous forces in the world.” – George Harkness

I was in the 10th grade when the September 11th attacks took place. I was on my way to World History class where we were learning about The Crusades. When I entered the classroom I heard a reporter on the television, “Oh great!” I thought. “We’re watching a movie, NAP TIME!” I ran over to my desk to place my book bag on the floor, I looked up and saw an airplane crash into the side of the World Trade Center. For the days that followed I learned that the attack was crusadescaused by terrorists declaring war in the name of Allah and they were ready and willing to do more damage.

In the second semester of the  year that I attended college I took an Intro to Communications class and really enjoyed it (on the days that I decided to go). For a group assignment we were split into groups of five and were given a country to research and deliver an oral presentation. The group was to give each person a sub-topic that would describe the culture of the given province.

My group was given India and I was to research the religions that were practiced. I was truly overwhelmed with mixed emotions. On one hand, I was given an opportunity to learn something new and to talk about it. On the other, I had to present without any biases or judgement.  As I began to research, I discovered that the three major religions were all striving for “peace”. This took me aback because growing up in a Christian American home I had come to think that anything else outside of the name of Jesus was rebellion and anarchy.I remember going to church and denouncing anyone 2 is the loneliestthat worshiped anyone but Jesus Christ.

As I delved deeper into my research I realized that each religion had more things in common than they differentiated on. Just like Christianity- Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism encourages  peace and love through prayer and self-examination by submitting one’s self to the higher Divine Power. This finding caused me to ponder the reason for war in the world; so many wars have began in the name of God and the right religion.

“We’re all a part of the same One God” -Russell Simmons

That assignment awakened a thirst of spiritual knowledge for me and for the past couple of years I have found myself pinching a few practices of each religion and incorporating it into my daily quiet time.The more I learned of each religion, there were  less  reservations I held towards them. I have benefited from taking two 15-minutes breaks to be still and would like to practice Yoga in the near future. I have not gotten up to praying five times a day, but I do make a conscious decision to do so at least three. I have gleaned so much from all religions that I have gained a healthy eye and eyerespect for them all.

Religion forces us to fight for what’s right and destroy anything that is wrong while spirituality encourages us to see the Divine in all. With religion, we tend to focus on what we believe instead of the things that we should  know that are essential to have to be a positive force in our society.  When we release religion and embrace spirituality, we begin to realize that our Creator  is the Father of many. Like a good Father he wants all of His children to be healthy, productive  and happy.


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Too School For Cool (Journal Entry)

One of my super powers is learning. I love learning new things that others may deem trivial. In my skole, I watch documentaries or read books;a vitophilia that brings me great pleasure. For a long time I would hide this pleasure to be like others so I could be accepted. I thought that if I fit in for a while others would loosen up and allow me to finally be myself,  but the more I made alterations to myself, the more others seemed to find fault in me.

bookwormIn retrospect, I chose to neglect my zeal of learning because I didn’t want to be viewed as a phony  who was trying to be a “white girl”. I wanted to stay true to my race and be “hood”, because that was what being black was all about. I risked and forfeited many great opportunities because I was trying to “keep it real” with everyone but myself.

It took me a while to realize that the things that make me weird distinguishes me from others, and that’s not a bad thing at all. There is nothing wrong with intelligence because intelligence does not discriminate between race  or religion; intelligence is available  to those that are in constant pursuit of knowledge.  In fact,  our greatest leaders sought after intelligence with a color blindness that allowed them to speak and  reach groups of people who were once biased and calloused towards minorities.

When we put limits on our education we limit our potential to reach others from diverse  walks of girl

I am no longer afraid to admit that I enjoy reading, writing, museums, and most importantly thinking. I enjoy being optimistic and accentuating the positive. I watch Jeopardy every night and guess what, both of my parents are B-L-A-C-K! I am grateful for all of the things that make me who I am. I may not live up to the standards of the hood and that is just fine, truth be told, I think that the standards of the hood should be raised a couple of notches any way.

Our race does not determine our intelligence, our willingness to learn does.


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“A dame that knows the ropes isn’t likely to get tied up.” – Mae West


Every year, the last days leading up to a new year is always filled with cleaning house, washing clothes and clearing closets to assure that my new course in life is smooth and organized. I read books that encourage me to do the aforementioned activities consistently so I can be more successful in my new and improved life. I make promises or resolutions in my life ropesthat will make me more efficient and less slothful in my endeavors.

By January 1st, I am ready to step into the ring and knock every opposing force on its face without breaking a sweat. I am valiant and willing to keep my goals and promises that I have made, cause ain’t nobody got time for giving up, this is my year and I am here to claim all of my benefits.

By March 30th, I have forgotten all of my training and now I’m just bobbing and weaving into my old habits from years past. By June 30th, I am on the floor of the ring watching the ref count me out. I am discombobulated and my eyes are so bruised that I can barely see.  I begin to crawl for the ropes to pull myself up trying to escape defeat just before I am counted completely out. I make it to my respectable corner and begin to hear my coach yell at me,  imploring me to call the fight and train harder.

I have always had this crazy notion that things will somehow change for me with the coming of a New Year, that things won’t be as hard as they were because I have been given a fresh start. Somehow, I failed to realize that it is not the year that needs to change-  it is myself that needs to change. Though I may read books about success and how to attain it does not mean that I will transform overnight.

like a butterflyIt’s cool to have a vision for ourselves, but if we refuse to follow through we are merely dreaming.

If I  know that by March I will grow tired of sticking to my plans for my life, I need to have a plan to help me refocus. Maybe I need to commit to a three month check-up with myself to ensure that I am still on track to maintain my endurance. Instead of living in a fairy tale world and hoping that I don’t get hit by opposition, I must be courageous enough to take the hits and willing to stay in the fight.

“It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.” – Muhammad Ali

When we begin to use our knock outs as learning utensils we are given the opportunity to become better fighters. We learn when to stay on the ropes and when to start jabbing. When we realize that our biggest opponent is ourselves, we begin to examine our thinking patterns and our strategies of approaching every situation.

“It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” – Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Balboa 

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14 Lessons 2014 Taught Me

This year has been a year of surprises for me. Though I am still growing in grace, I would like to share some of the  lessons that I have learned and a couple of the lessons that I continue to re-take. In prior years, I have spent most of my time focusing on what I would do better in the year to come, that I would make resolutions only to forget them by March. This year I would like to take time to focus on what I’ve learned that has helped to make my next year better.


1. R.E.E.B.O.K- Read Each and Every Book Of Knowledge. At the closing of 2013 I was encouraged to read, The Happiness Project by Mrs. Gretchen Rubin, this book paved the way to me reading other books such as- Successful Maria BWomen Think Differently by Mrs. Valorie Burton and The Ten Laws of Enduring Success by Mrs. Maria Bartiromo. Reading these books helped to prepare me for what I considered failure, and assisted me in looking at many situations differently. The books that we read can impact us is so many ways, but many times it is months after we finish them.

2. People treat you how you allow them to treat you. I am learning that if I do not tell someone the first time that  they may have  ticked  me off, I had better get prepared to be ticked off a lot. Though I may have twisted my face into knots, unless I have told them that they have licked the red off of my apple, they will continue to keep licking.

3. Some people enjoy pushing your buttons. Some folks are into the shock value of things. They will make comments about your posts, they will talk about you, they will even reject you just to see how you will react. It’s not the situation that matters,  its how I react to the situation .

4. Finger pointing ain’t cute. It’s kinda like #3 but it goes a little deeper. Instead of comparing how others are acting to how I am, I could just be the example of how to conduct myself. Not everyone has the same upbringing as I did, what I deem proper is what I have been taught, it doesn’t make it law.

5. Never quit your job without a plan, cause you are gone be praying and crying every other month. After crying for the first month of my unemployment, I quickly realized that ordering your day will help you to not spiral into too deep of a depression. Saving money wouldn’t hurt either.

6.  Music can change any situation.  If you don’t believe me, put in Holla Back Girl by Gwen Stefani after a bad day and see what happens. That shit is really B-A-N-A-N-A-S!bananas

7. The number seven is really a Divine number. I view it as the ending of one book in a trilogy and beginning another one.

8. Death is sad, but it brings new life. Though the ending of something brings pain, it can also awaken new strengths that we never knew that we had. The deaths that took place in 2014 helped me to view my life, my choices  and the direction that I wanted to take.

9. Labels are limits. We want to be apart of something to make us feel like we are not alone in this world, so we join clubs, churches or organizations. Some of these labels restrict us from learning information because of religion, race and culture that may be essential to the betterment of our communities. I’m learning that the messenger doesn’t matter, it is the message that is given and how it applies to my current situation.

10. Just do it. If I am going to nick pick about how someone fulfills a task that was mine in the beginning, I was asking to get teed off. If I did it myself I would not have to calm myself after a temper tantrum.

11. The right way is only the right way for you. A piggyback of #4.

12. Don’t talk about it. Be about it. Just because I say that #blacklivesmatter, it doesn’t mean anything if I am not gentrifyputting my time and positive energy into other members of my community. Being  active in my community has helped me to see that words without action is gentrification and death.

13. I am ever evolving, so be nice. I have to stop beating myself up about my past and focus on the things that are positive in my life. A positive and secure environment helps stimulate growth and development ( in my Alex Trebek voice).

14. Write something every day. You don’t have to be published or go to school to be a writer; writing makes you a writer. How good you are depends on the reader.

Let the countdown begin to a New Year! Blessings to all and remember….

Friends don’t let friends twerk.

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