The Freedom of Locs!

For a period of around 7 or 8 years, I did my best to find ways to save up and travel and least once every other year. With each trip, be it a cruise to the islands, Cancun or the sunny beaches of Florida, they all had one thing in common...the existence of my wig or weave. So here I would go getting to my destination with my cute little sarongs, colorful bathing suits and various summer wear and as soon as I would approach the beach or swimming pool, I had to dress down like a tomboy because I was gettin' in that water! But that meant I either had to wear a bandanna and bob around to not wet my tracks or take off the wig and put on a cap or wrap of some kind. I was constantly in disguise.
When I was blessed with an opportunity to go to Hawaii however, I had just had my weave for a little over a year and man oh man, was my trip altogether different. I would wake up, put on my cute outfits, take to walking around and make my way to the beach and that was the real test. When I could lay on my towel, get up and run to the water and jump in? Wow! It was like, so this is VACATION?! No inhibitions, just like all the other happy tourists around me. I didn't have to protect my doo because it was what it was...natural.

Hairpocrisy could be defined as...

a pretense of having some desirable or publicly approved attitude about your natural hair through society's negative perception of its nappiness.
There was a time when I actually believed that I had straight, long hair without snag and acceptable to all of society. But there was so much deception that had been planted into my head for as far back as I could remember.
Going through school, participation in gym, swimming or any sport that would disable the press and curl that took forever to process was definitely a deterrent and for that fact only. I knew that once I came up from the first plunge, my hair would take on a totally new look~and it wasn't straight.
For the last 20 years, I sported so many different styles and hair colors, photos can't even explain. Many of them, I learned to do on my own and the mind altering truth was when I received compliments of how beautiful "my hair" was. I had the response down too. Of course it's mine, I bought it! But I needed more once I turned 40 and with the help of my younger sister (who was also going through the same struggle) we discovered Sisterlocks. Now, I am a certified trainee to retighten Sisterlocks and my sister, son and myself are indebted to the process. My niece, after almost two years, is finally taking the plunge as well. Sisterlocks is the most natural locking process available and I haven't used any type of hair grease, oily moisturizers or harmful ingredients on my scalp since. My natural hair is a way of life now and I'm more confident however, there is a stigma that lies with locks. My son feels it more than I due to its relation to drugs, criminal behavior and threatening behavior of black men whose "dread locked hair" is culturally stereotyped in addition to black skin.
At this point however, locks will just have to be reckoned with as not a personality trait and more in line with a choice to wear natural hair...I'll never put another chemical, heat treatment or hair addition to prove allegiance to be accepted in society.
http://www.ireport.com/docs/DOC-286632

How do we know when it's our time?

A week before my 22nd birthday, my father passed away and my world was shattered. But he showed 'signs' of knowing with a desperation to travel to my place in Dallas from Denver for a visit that turned out to be his last.
Seen in this picture is my great grandpa Jarman and my Dad, Norvette Brown. I've included below an excerpt from the story I wrote about this experience.

...Dad had mentioned that he had something important to give to me and wanted to drive down and hand it to me personally. Gladly, I accepted the invitation not knowing much about the condition of his diabetes. His conversation was puzzling as he told me that lately he had been dreaming of little children happily dancing around him. He wanted to talk about a newfound peace that he was experiencing with a burst of life energy allowing for this trip.
In a futile attempt to stop him from driving, I told him that if he didn't feel up to it, I would gladly pay for a bus ticket instead...he refused. His main objective was to drive down so that he could 'see things', so I respected his wishes. That next day as I anxiously waited for a call from Dad, I received a call from a Sheriff in a county line town in Colorado.
The Sheriff showed much concern for my Dad's state of mind as he began explaining that my Dad was disoriented thinking that he was in Texas on his way to visit me. He also told me that they were holding him at the jail because legally he could not drive because his license stated that he was legally blind (due to the diabetes). The anxiety was beginning to show in my voice because I was puzzled as to why my Dad would knowingly break the law...why didn't he take the bus like I had offered?
Not knowing these facts about his failing health, the Sheriff continued stating Dad was lucky to be alive because he had been in a car accident with an 18-wheeler that ran him off the wrong side of the road. Apparently, he had made it as far as New Mexico and out of confusion, he made a turn that sent him back into the direction of Colorado! What kind of quest was Dad going on and why was he not thinking in his right mind?
Surprisingly, the Sheriff agreed to put my Dad on the next bus to Dallas with nothing more than one Panasonic home stereo system with full sized speakers. The next morning at the bus station, I welcomed my nervous, yet excited father from his exhausting ordeal. When we made it to my apartment, Dad seemed antsy and uncomfortable...he had left all of his belongings in his wrecked station wagon (clothing and insulin) so he showered and temporarily wore a robe of mine and I chuckled at the thought of him not even caring he was wearing his daughter's silken, silver bath garment.
That night, he refused to sleep, staring in the distance, rocking back and forth on the couch and knowing he was tired I noticed the condition of his swollen feet...I had never seen gangrene before.
After finally falling asleep on the couch, I slowly crept over to my Dad who was breathing soundly in a deep sleep but I couldn't wake him. When I called the ambulance and told him he was a diabetic, their response was that he was in a diabetic coma, their arrival was immediate and they gave him insulin that he hadn't had since the accident. He responded favorably at the hospital so I decided to go into work. Before I could leave work for the evening, the hospital called and said he had passed away due to complications.
After everything was said and done, I began to analyze chronologically all that initially I couldn't understand before. My Dad's trip was not a visit, it was an appearance of a delusion that overtook his thought process. He knew his time was limited and he ignored the odds and gave it to God. My Dad shouldn't have survived that accident, and he must have met the only Sheriff (which for some reason I never took the information down for this guardian angel) that had the compassion to put a strange man on a bus, no cost to me, towards a destination hundreds of miles away, at the request of someone he didn't even know except through a conversation the phone. I quickly found this type of divine intervention would become the norm in a series of life experiences destined for my future. I believe under God's favor, he gives us a 'grace' period and how merciful is that?

Hilarious Dream Experience...

While relaxing in the afternoon with D, I enjoy nestling my head into his chest as he takes a quick nap before going to work. As he's drifted into slumber, I find comfort in listening to his heartbeat and cradled in the warmth of his skin. Gently, he pulls me closer to him and I feel even more secure and loved...and in a fleet of seconds, I feel his legs jolting as if he is running in his dream. I look up and carefully, not to startle him from his dreamy moment, I ask him lovingly, "Where are you running sweetie?" Smiling and with his eyes still closed, he grins and pleasingly drawls, "I made a touch down..." and when he looked down at me starting to transition from fantasy to reality, I softly giggle and said, "So, my head was your football?" We died laughing!

Hollywood's First Black American Movie Star

I was watching a very interesting documentary called "Why We Laugh: Black Comedians on Black Comedy". http://festival.sundance.org/2009/film_events/films/why_we_laugh_black_comedians_on_black_comedy
It was an amazing journey down memory lane watching clips from Dave Chappelle, Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor, Red Foxx, Flip Wilson, Nipsy Russell, etc. and all the way back to the first notorious, trivial and scarred black comedians named Lincoln Perry aka Stepin Fetchit. Personally, I had never heard of him however a friend of mine had and his story was most remarkable even though he has been dubbed "the laziest man in the world". His rise to fame and millionaire status undoubtedly paved the road for future black entertainers however, he paid an embarrassing and demeaning price. One that would leave a legacy of abandonment of his works as entertainment art and although he was extremely intelligent, he was an opportunist of the times. The catch was that he had to conform to the beliefs of white society of the 1920's and 1930's and that was through the ridicule of his minstrel character.
The following article briefly depicts a bittersweet account of the success and demise of Lincoln Perry's climb to fame and fall from grace in the hands of the NAACP and Hollywood.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5245089

How relevent is The Secret?

About three years ago, Martell and I watched a DVD called The Secret and although I have always reiterated to him that we all have abilities to control our destiny through envisioning and making it so, I had just never seen it documented before. I was blown away and using test samples in every day life. I began trying to redirect my life by focusing on what I longed for and not what I felt I could not have.
One of the first lessons I would learn is that the universe doesn't let you 'have it all' just because or without clear, concise will of positive energy. It can't...the universe is naturally chaotic...which is why even though everyone would love to win the lottery, or the casino jackpot or any type of winning through chance, it is not possible. If this were the case, instead of a few large winners, there would be millions of small winners, case in point, it wouldn't be the lottery anymore if everyone was a winner? I'm not saying it's a guaranteed thing to win things through thought, just an attitude adjustment that it belongs to you and so the universe has to work to make it so (in all things).
The second thing was, I began to 'see' things, almost as if revealed. Especially when it came to Motor V. If there was challenge and I had put into the universe that I resisted against wrong doing, a trivial matter would sprout before my eyes waiting to see if I would put my money where my mouth was. But I didn't back down to the challenge, and I learned to love these tests because they helped me grow; spiritually and in mental strength. I felt there was no battle I couldn't conquer and there was no weapon from an outsider wishing ill-will which could strike against me and defeat the cause of good or advancement.
Finally, there is powerful energy in human emotion. If you've ever walked into a room where two or more people feel anger towards each other, you physically 'feel' the tension. And vise versa, when you see two people gazing into each other's eyes lovingly, your emotions soften not necessarily because you're in love but because there's love in your presence. Even tears or fear are contagious to those of us that are emotionally in tuned with our environment.
For example, when rumors of my branch closing were constantly rising, I prayed not to be put into the middle of something that was out of my control. I tried to prepare my staff for the best and the worst and I knew my destiny was restructuring to be somewhere else.
Right when I had gone through a series of transitions-new hair style, new management position, new branch opportunity, new surgery, new house-I needed to conquer a few things, leap some hurdles, organize and see results, face fears and I took the opportunity to not run and jumped into solving situations whether I knew the battle would be a lonesome one or if I had support. If it was in the name of right, I was taking it on. Man did I feel the force of time and space as well as a growing number of enemies that had to do their job as well when I took ownership of an ordeal.
At the height of all this activity, that's when a very special individual came back into my life from nearly two years earlier. My discovery was that we were both going through life changing events and we were able to provide support for the other. Once we bonded again, our lives intertwined and connected at such a rapid speed, I don't know how it all fell into place but it did. This new beginning is surreal at most times but it was because I had put so much of my heart and soul into an organization that didn't really want me there. Surprisingly enough, it hurt to let it go because I thought I was making a difference in other people's lives so I had let go of my own life. When I asked the universe to give me an opportunity to be in a relationship where I could love and grow with someone that simply wanted the same thing, I understood that for so many years, I had mastered motherhood, management but couldn't keep a relationship without trying to control it to no avail. I also specifically asked for the chance to finish my schooling without so much obstruction, I was exhausted from the demands and drama from work and I wanted peace and relaxation for a change.
My first position before all others however, was to get Martell situated for a new life without me being so accessible in his life. Just the thought of severance hurt to let him go off on his own but we have both grown from the experience. His success is monumental and definite in my requests where every battle is overcome with a step closer to his destination and I pray it's God's will that I witness it.
If you would have asked me this time last year where I would be today, I would have not even bat an eye when stating that "only 14 more years to go until retirement....I'll never leave motor vehicle....it's all I know...they need me here." Never in a million years would I have said that I'd be leaving that 20 year career, dashing to the desert of Fontana, in a flourishing, supportive and nurturing relationship, finishing my degree, with endless possibilities for a new future journey. A chance in sharing my life with someone that doesn't want to feel a similar emptiness and didn't want to hurt or be used any longer, there was an upcoming hope where I envisioned a promising lifestyle; I could breathe and start over and I'm doing just that...amazingly because I asked for it.

http://www.thesecret.tv/top-secret-summary-of-teachings.html

I loved being a red head...

It didn't matter whether it was synthetically straight, human yaki or Indian wavy, I couldn't get enough of being a red-head. I think for awhile I had convinced myself that if I prayed hard enough, I could turn my sandy brown, naturally thin, covered up hair into Riverdance Auburn and I could just live my life happily ever after. But all and all, I didn't really want to go out into society unless I had my bangs, my shoulder length, my blowin' in the wind, apparition of self. I mean, it felt good when I could fit in and hear things like, "I love your hair", or "I wish I could change mine in so many ways", these statements were in such opposition to, "Too bad you don't have good hair...you'd be really pretty then?"
The majority of my adult life was in convincing myself that until I let go of the mask, I would never know who I really was. Too scared to run, get snow in my hair, get into to sauna, hell? Sweating was a big, uhh-uhh! From the mid-90's up until 2007, I didn't really know what my natural hair looked like unless it was during the 'in between' period.

Transitional Beginnings...

Before I found a vehement yearning to conquer my fear of life without weaves and relaxers, I reveled and embraced covering up my inner self. The more hair I added, the more you couldn't see me and in the beginning, it was a comfort. I wanted to see my beauty in pictures so I spent $300 every 6 weeks to have the auburn weave creation of my lifetime because I needed visual proof that I was beautiful and I wanted it confessed in pictures.
After my third failed attempt in a long term relationship, I did just that. I was beginning to drown into the possibility that I would find the love of my life and that he would be black. And I was torn because I wanted to give him that back too but without my issues of extended tresses. Seemingly, there wasn't an issue with finding a relationship with a willing participant but keeping the interest alive was more difficult. I wanted to give my man sexy, exotic, intelligence but most of all be an active companion.
My dilemma, however, was being able to join in any type of activity that included altering my hair's appearance. For example, I could shake it at the club and dress it up and have it down my back, but when the lights went out and the bobby pins were undone, this extension of myself (wigs in this case), went into the nightstand. Now, I've become the imposter of a vixen that couldn't measure up with the original package.

After a little over a year or so, it didn't take long for me to realize that it was time to throw away the combs, brushes, hair dryers and multitude of hair 'care' products that I had accumulated and experimented with over the years. Sisterlocks was a lifestyle change, not a hair-do so I had to commit totally by shedding my old way of thinking. However, my weakness was still the mischievous obsession with my skin-toned colored hair! A little water/lemon juice/dash of peroxide in my spray bottle and voila! It's my challenge but conformity starts with baby steps and I am definitely toddling! But I was smiling now. My confidence increased because my new look signified that I was ready for confrontation, strange looks or compliments for that matter, which although they came, they weren't always from my black sisters; unless they were naturally locked as well. I was willing to deal with that though. My sister had started this family trend and when Martell joined the ranks, I thought, "Now this is catchy and something that represents us as a family..." I've never felt so connected to being proud of my blackness never in my life and even though shamed, I knew that change is a constant state of growth in every life journey and I accepted anything upcoming with a universal shield of conquest. My first battle? Of water, snow and steam! :-)

The ideology of Avatar

So I finally got to watch Avatar via Netflix and its timing was impeccable in relation to the African politics course I just finished. Although usually, I get wrapped up with the ingenuity of today's special effects, the storyline reminded me of the demise of African culture. From the outside, is the military and scientists who are interested in the mining of a rare mineral [unobtanium] in the lands of Pandora [Africa], but the 'savages' who live on these lands don't realize the value of such a unique treasure [diamonds, silver, gold, oil...]. They are tranquil in their world and express a oneness with their environment around them by understanding the tranquility of keeping peace with the simple way of life. However, once discovered by the military and scientists [imperialists], there are immediate actions to befriend and experiment through infiltrating 'the people' of Pandora; learning their language, customs and culture. Once the decision has been made to expose reality and to take Pandora by force, 'the people' attempt to fight back with weaponry unmatched to military technology with expeditious attempts to adjoin other tribes to help fight the cause. With divine interventions possible only through the assistance of the imposter's who now appreciate and want to help the 'enemy', the feats of the most spirit-filled and universally willed sacrifice their way of life while winning against all odds. But the most puzzling I found were the people themselves...although beautiful, there was an obvious resemblance and connection to how Africans-both pre-colonial and current-are viewed today; colored, elementary, savage, 'monkey' like, barefoot, in need of transition and I don't even want to go there with the tail? I know my view is an interpretation but until I had taken this course, I probably wouldn't have given these creatures a second thought. I guess my point is, education and awareness opens so many doors to the possibility of our imagination and our realism of life and reasoning.

In October of 2007, I decided with the guidance of my younger sister, to enter into unknown territory of wearing natural hair. For the past 10 or so years, I experimented in so many types of hair styles that I can't even imagine that I convinced myself that I actually had an original look.
I can't even tell you how changing to natural hair (of any kind) gives you an inspirational courage like no other cosmetic change can even attempt to battle.
All the time that I spent on doctoring, covering, altering and damaging my already struggling hair, I now have time to spend reflecting, educating and uplifting my new individual personality.
Spending so much money in the destruction of what the Matrix so accurately characterized as a creation of my digital self or in other words, what I wanted everyone else to perceive me as, I was beginning to run out of disguises.