The Here and Now

I’ve decided to attempt to go back to writing everyday again. I fell off the wagon, fell hard and have felt stuck these last few months. I am not sure where to begin so I figure I will lay it all out on the table and see what we come up with.

I quit my full time job a few months ago. I couldn’t deal with the negativity anymore, didn’t need the additional drain on my sanity, didn’t need the emotional toll that it took on me day after day for those last few months. I was so miserable there, so very unhappy all of the time, that it left me sick, exhausted, depleted. I couldn’t love my family the way they needed me to, I couldn’t love myself the way that I needed. So I quit.

And I feel kind of stupid now, looking back in hindsight, at the sheer irresponsibility of it all, even though I know that it was the right move for me, even though I know that there is something better for me just around the corner. I have two interviews tomorrow, in fact.

I spent the summer mothering. For the first time in a year, there was no job to run to, no other more pressing responsibility than to mother my child. She may have hated every moment of it, may have revolted against my every attempt to discipline her, but I think it has also brought her a bit more stability, a bit more confidence and trust in my abilities to effectively parent her.

I spent the summer repairing myself and my marriage. I went back to church, I prayed, I believed, and I began to heal the hurts of the past few years. We still have a way to go, but we are back on the road to recovery and that is a good road for all of us.

I spent the summer being a tourist. Seeing sites I have never seen, or have not seen in a long time. I went into the mountains for the first time since I was a child, I took my daughter to the beach, to the natural springs, to museums, and the park.

I spent the summer cleaning, purging my house of old clothes, old toys, old memories. I scrubbed and scoured and reclaimed my home from a year of neglect and animosity. There still a few more things that I would like to do, a few more pieces of furniture that I need to move, but it is home once again. 

And, now? Summer is over now, and I am ready, ready to get back to work. 

And Then My Baby Disappeared

Today, for the very first time, I slipped off a little girl’s silky pink pajamas and let them fall to the floor. I helped her put on her school uniform and marveled at the kid standing before me. And even as I watched her grow right before my eyes, I didn’t cry.

I watched as she stood in front of the mirror, whispering, “I am brave, I am smart, I can do this.” And I did not cry.

I saw her strap her shoes (on the right feet!) and gather her supplies, watched her as she confidently strode to the door and I did not cry.

I did not cry today as the Supergirl started Kindergarten. I did not cry when we walked into the classroom, even as I witnessed mothers breaking down in the hallway. Or other children clinging to their mommas as mine skipped her way down the hall into unknown territory. I did not cry when I thought about all of the other milestones that we had traversed thus far. I did not cry when I saw her sit down and make a new friend, or even when I drove away.

Even though I knew that I would, I did not cry.

I am excited for her. Excited for new friendships, new experiences, for this journey to begin. I am excited about the tooth that is getting a little looser every day. I am not sad that that my baby is nearly gone, almost unrecognizable from the bundle that I brought home nearly six years ago. I am excited that the person that I have nurtured is finally emerging.

And this afternoon, as we were pulling away from the school, as she was stumbling over her words in an effort to get out all of the details before she forgot them, like the names of her new best friends, she exclaimed, "I am awesome, my teacher thinks so too. See this sticker? See what it says? I am awesome. Also, I am the President of Kindergarten." 

And my heart sings with pride. 

 There will be days ahead, where I know there will be tears, when her heart will be broken by boys (and girls), when her hopes are diminished and her confidence is dashed, but today? Today is not the day to cry.

Stop

I have heard a lot about injustice this weekend. I have heard cries of racism, of bigotry, of "good ol' boys". I have seen people blame Florida, once again, for being backwards, for being Southern, for being unable to prosecute a case.

I have seen the celebratory remarks of people that support George Zimmerman, I have heard the rallying cries of those that want to accuse the President of attempting to use this case to take away guns or create stricter gun laws. I have seen people post links to "news" articles that villify the victim.

Stop.

The truth is that Trayvon Martin was a kid. A kid whose rights to be "innocent, until proven guilty" were stripped from him on the side of that street. It's tragic. It could have been any kid. It could have been my husband once upon a time, when he was young, when he roamed the streets in the dark. It could have been any of the men that I know that got the opportunity to grow into men.

In this case, in this time, it was this boy.

To those of you that want to villify him as a thief, a thug, a drug addict - did you not make mistakes when you were 16 or 17? When you were young, full of life, and (perhaps, most dangerously) full of yourself? Did you deserve to have your rights stolen, to be tried and sentenced to death on the side of a street in the dark and the rain?

The Stand Your Ground law in Florida needs work. There are things that should be reviewed so that a tragedy such as this does not happen in the future. I can understand standing your ground and protecting your home and your family, but stalking, hunting, killing someone just because you do not like the way that they look should never be legal. The precedent of this case scares me, the ramifications for ordinary citizens are deeply troubling. This should be a call to action for those of you that feared losing access to your weapons to lobby the legislature to make the necessary changes to protect your rights.

To black men everywhere, this is a call to action for your community. Riots, demonstrations, marches are all great ways to get on the news but they will not change the verdict and they will not bring this child back from the dead.

A year ago, I worked as a mentor at a local inner-city second chance school. Amazingly, although the student population is predominantly black males without a father figure, the mentor program had never had a single black man step up to take on even one child. Not one.

If you want to end the cycle of racism, of bigotry, of the stereotypical black man image that you all fight against so much - give back, give these kids a different perspective to look up to, give these kids an alternate goal to aspire to.

It's one thing to have your debates on Facebook and Twitter, to talk about how much you hate the system, to rant about the injustice of it all, but if you are unwilling to do anything to make a change in the system, then you will never be a part of the solution.