I decided…

I move at my own speed.

My parents learn early on that I won’t do anything unless I am ready to. Until I am moved to do it.

The million ads for the upcoming election, guilt speeches, merchandise and political coverage has not swayed me or made me want to decide to vote for a candidate.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t moved. I didn’t care.

Not that I care now about either candidate.

But what I do care about is Black People.

I heart America.

But my blood flows for and because of Black people.

With that being said, I could not attend the Congressional Black Caucus. See thousands of black people on their grind, with their power suits and blackberry’s working for the advancement of my race. Go to seminars about the problems/solutions for the black community. What was needed in our community, what was working and what was failing? Hear my people, see my people and not wonder what I was doing to help our cause.  Be motivated by the call to arms, to fix our community.

Walk around and see the Obama pins attached to the suits, the Obama paraphernalia being sold, the Obama chants and not feel the enthusiasm of my people. I haven’t seen black people this excited and united since the OJ verdict. This is even more significant because this excitement didn’t involve the penal system.

So I decided.

I decided that if voting for this man would energize black people, instill a sense of pride and bring “hope” to my people.

That if voting for him makes some black boy believe that he can be anything in the world. That he can achieve greatness. That when a  Black parent tells their child they can be anything in the world they believe it. That if voting for Barack shows America that a functioning black family is the norm rather than the exception. If it makes one black man think about marrying his girlfriend or baby mama,  cause he wants to make her his “Michelle”, his life partner cause Barack did.

I argued that the only reason that black men supported Barack is because they saw him as an extension of their black masculinity and that it was a purely ego induced support. So what? My Black brothers have been beaten down so  much they deserve a little ego stroking, rebuild some of the confidence that was lost by the years of emasculation they endured by the popular culture. I love the pride that shines through them when they speak of Barack.

I didn’t have this crazy change of heart and suddenly become his biggest supporter. I am not fully over the Jeremiah Wright incident and the symptoms of Bitchassness, Barack displayed.

I will be honest. The size of his ears freaks me out, although I know he can’t control the size of them. I would still really like if he got them pin closer to his head.  It will be hard watching those ears on presidential addresses if he does get elected.

I don’t agree with Barack on a lot of issue. I still believe that atmosphere surrounding him is of messianic proportion. That he can’t possible do all the things that people expect and save us from the evil republicans. But if he does just 2% of what people expect, inspired just one kid, or better yet spark the mind of someone and commit them to change the world. Then that’s more than enough in my book.

I love Black people, more then I love my political affiliations. I hold Black people closer to my heart then I hold particular election issues. So if my people believe that Obama is the right man for us and the nation, that’s more than enough for me.

I won’t be difficult, I won’t be different. I choose us instead of me. So if Barrack ends up being the worse president ever, I will be ok. Because sometimes if the ship is going to sink it’s better to go down with everyone, then to be safe on the shore alone.

Everyone has their own reasons why they vote for a candidate and these are mine.

I ordered my absentee ballot.

It’s official. My vote is with Barack Hussein Obama.

He doesn’t get a free ride. He still must be held accountable for his policies and actions by the black community, the nation and even the rest of the world. We must challenge him in order to assure he stays on point. But he does get my vote.

Don’t expect me to be wearing any Obama merchandise though….

Michelle, the Greatest?

 

I must place a disclaimer on this. I am not a hater…that much…anymore…

If you want to know what people are thinking just check facebook statuses. Last night the general consensuses was Michelle Obama was the greatest Black woman to ever breathe, every girl wanted to be her and every boy wanted to be her husband. I received text messages “Did you see Michelle’s speech”. Um no, I planned to. I really did. I turn on the television and all the pre-speech hype was getting annoying and not helping my already pissy moved. I just wanted to hear the woman speak and not commentators talking about what she might say. I turned off the television.

Sidebar: Did anyone see how BET covered the speech with Cousin Jeff, trying to pretend that it was a legitimate news channel?

Anyway, thanks to the wonders of On Demand by Comcast I got to watch the speech today. This is of course after the speech was hyped up by the commentators and my facebook groupies (friends) to be the greatest speech ever. I mean people claimed they cried over this thing.

The speech begins with her being introduced by her older brother, who shares those eerie sleepy eyes of hers that freak me out. He goes on to give cute childhood stories and how their family is the American Dream. Whatever, not impressed.

Michelle enters to give her speech to some great music. Her dress is fitting her well, showing her great shoulders. Her hair look phenomenal, someone actually convinced her to throw some perm on those edges. Even I can’t say anything negative about her appearance. Her speech was good, I guess. She got her point across, she doesn’t hate America, she loves Barrack, she is the American dream, she struggled, they are just like middle-America, and you should elect her husband. I guess her antidotes were cute and moving. I actually kind of feel bad I wasn’t moved by her speech like the rest of black America. Every radio station was biging her up like she was some black female savior.

“And as I tuck that little girl and her little sister into bed at night, I think about how one day, they’ll have families of their own. And one day, they – and your sons and daughters – will tell their own children about what we did together in this election. They’ll tell them how this time, we listened to our hopes, instead of our fears. How this time, we decided to stop doubting and to start dreaming.”

I swear she was talking to people like me when she said that. Because I am not sure how I feel about this hope thing. I am so afraid of Blacks and Americans putting so much hope in these people and being let down. They can’t possible live up to the hype around them. At the end of the day, they are politicians trying to get elected. I got caught up in “greatness” of Obama speech after the Rev. Wright controversy; he could no more disown Rev. Wright as he could the black community. Well he did, when the going got tough. I wish I could stop doubting and believing but it’s going to take more than a cute couple and two cute little girls to make me believe in this change. Sorry, I am not yet a believer. At the same time, I am so protective of them; I talk so much crap about them. I am the first to critique them, but don’t let Fox News, or anyone else talk about how unpatriotic and un-American she is, I am ready to fight. At the end of the day she is my sister and he is my brother. I can talk about them, but don’t anyone outside of the family try them.

I guess we shall see if this change is really possible.

Last thing is it just me or does it look like Michelle has tobacco or something in her mouth whenever she speaks.

What up Doc!

I hate going to the doctor. It freaks me out, I start believing I have some crazy aliment or they are going to tell me I’m going to die…tomorrow! Doctors are such freaks always poking people with needles, making me pee in cups and take off my clothes. It’s never a pleasant experience. Last year, my heart was nearly broken when my mother informed me that my pediatrician would no longer see me. I felt like a rejected lover, I thought me and this doctor had a bond, we had been together since I was born. Yes, I could no longer fit into the chairs at the office and kids keep asking me “Where’s your kid”, not knowing I was the patient. But I was comfortable at the pediatrician; they gave out smiley face band-aids, lollipops and I could catch up on the latest issue of “Highlights” magazine. It was hard letting go of this part of my life, but I figured that I did just graduate from college I should probably go to an adult doctor.

I had a funny feeling about my new doctor, some thing about the fact that my mom, dad, grand mom, grand dad and brother went to her didn’t sit well with me. My biggest concern was that she was a black woman ( I am not a hater, I love Black woman, When I grow up I’m going to be a Black women); it would be like talking to my mom/grand mom about personal issues. Weird. I feel like black woman are always judging me. Well the first time I went to see her, it was ok. I even overlooked the fact that I got a plain Band-Aid with no cartoons after they stole my blood for “samples”.

Fast forward to today. My second annual check up with this lady. The standard questions, whatever. She asks me what I am doing about my acne, and how great my skin used to be! (Damn, Damn, Damn Philadelphia for mutilating my beautiful face) That put me on edge, I’m a bit sensitive about my new found skin issues. But nevertheless I am still PRETTY. Then she asked me why I kept my hair low. “Because I am lazy, it’s easy”. This set homegirl off on this “Don’t you know that hair is a woman’s glory, you shouldn’t cut your hair, even a fro is better then that”. Really!!!!!! This my dear Tabians, would never happen if I went to a white doctor. Never. I told her I never know what to do with my hair when I grow it out. She replied “Wash it and pray about, God will tell you what to do with it”. In my mind I was thinking “(Female dog) did you just tell me to pray about my hair!” Again, one of the reason I hate that she is also the entire family doctor, she knows my dad is a pastor, so I stay calm and just nod and smile. I thought she was done. Then she decided to tell me “Because, really you look like a boy. If you weren’t so cute in the face I would think you were a boy, but boys aren’t that cute. You look like a boy from behind.” REALLY!!!!

1. How does she know that “the boy look”, wasn’t the look I was going for.
2. She obviously missed the donk in the back and the breast in the front. No one really was going to think I’m a dude.
3. I wasn’t even wearing boys clothes, this wasn’t “gay boy chic” day. It was casual Tab day.  I was wearing fitted red khakis, a white polo tee, earrings and a purse.
4. Did I ask her for her opinion about my hair?
5. Oh yea, WHAT IN THE WORLD DID THIS HAVE TO DO WITH MY CHECK UP.

 

Black people and their inappropriateness. We feel the need to get into everybody business. When I was in high school my assistant principal prayed for me in her office, to rid me of the spirit of anger that was invading my soul. I do appreciate the non-traditional approach, but is it just me or was this doctor lady completely out of line? I had never had a woman tell me I needed hair as my crown of glory. I expect that from the ignorant male ministers in church but not my doctor.

 

Please believe this is my last visit with home girl. I am sticking with white doctors who stay the HELL out of your fashion choices.

 

But the story has a good ending. She irrigated my ears…yeah they were a little backed up thanks to Q-tips. I can actually hear now!!! No more “Huh” or “You said what”.

 

I’m going to keep my hair short for as long as I want and I’m going to keep being JUST TAB!