tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28101292511331961662024-03-08T16:12:26.462-05:00Rants, Reviews, and ReflectionsA place I come to rant (about things that drive me nuts)...review (things I love)...and reflect (on things that make me say "Hmm"). Welcome.Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-90926840523171825972024-03-08T13:19:00.002-05:002024-03-08T16:11:55.326-05:00Don't Be the A$$ in the Assumption<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAozYpssuMZmH0m27C1j8fduJwnJUhrAyFCXDn2vAwV2IpbU_zydQ62Wm9jRmizEp3kZOQqMmpF4aynjL6bMmE422GkSeZ7PMxjDMXA0ef79YKyaGdBJbZS0bXMsCzi0VT7J6TTi-gz_KphWh8Ny_RzYjLPhlkPdogjCa0mi7O-7itFrwe-V71G8ap5Wu/s318/danger.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="159" data-original-width="318" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAozYpssuMZmH0m27C1j8fduJwnJUhrAyFCXDn2vAwV2IpbU_zydQ62Wm9jRmizEp3kZOQqMmpF4aynjL6bMmE422GkSeZ7PMxjDMXA0ef79YKyaGdBJbZS0bXMsCzi0VT7J6TTi-gz_KphWh8Ny_RzYjLPhlkPdogjCa0mi7O-7itFrwe-V71G8ap5Wu/w400-h200/danger.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>It’s my favorite time of year! No, not (just) the dawning of spring but gala season! From personally
participating in several in support of the organizations and charities that are
near and dear to my heart or front and center for the “fashion shows” on
Hollywood’s red carpets that lead to every arts & entertainment celebration
imaginable from the Grammy’s to the NAACP Image Awards, it’s a time for seeing
and being seen. And the largest “runway”—in the form of the 96<sup>th</sup> Academy
Awards stage—comes alive this weekend. That’s why in addition to being a gala
lover, I’m also a self-proclaimed cinephile, which means I try to see the most
buzzed about Oscar-nominated films before their big day. Enters Oppenheimer.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KZojlXFmo3Ek-Xm7llvQ0F7jTOUy8wHv0YOwq1ZugED-9CDtZtlesNMPvFNbKbRZEd7LAYVc6fEtn0rJLXLb70SvhNSEJu6Q1Nj-6cLTUUriS_BF2IwFsgNvJ_xy1i6hWaLSqy5Rd88WAZ2OSIIGIK8Z7lf8y0y5azVdxmQG5vaX6WWvReVYUmUrdgdO/s1280/oppenheimer.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KZojlXFmo3Ek-Xm7llvQ0F7jTOUy8wHv0YOwq1ZugED-9CDtZtlesNMPvFNbKbRZEd7LAYVc6fEtn0rJLXLb70SvhNSEJu6Q1Nj-6cLTUUriS_BF2IwFsgNvJ_xy1i6hWaLSqy5Rd88WAZ2OSIIGIK8Z7lf8y0y5azVdxmQG5vaX6WWvReVYUmUrdgdO/w342-h192/oppenheimer.jpeg" width="342" /></a></div>Let me say, I’d heard the 2023 epic biographical thriller
film—written, directed, and produced by Christopher Nolan and starring Cillian
Murphy as the American theoretical physicist credited with being the
"father of the atomic bomb" and his role in the Manhattan Project—was
worth its hype. No, not just from critics whose opinions I rarely let influence
my own movie-going desires but from family whose opinions I highly trust as
many of our interests are similar. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I
also knew at 180 minutes, I would need to set aside time for this viewing. And that time would be Thursday
night when I finally turned down the lights, curled up under a
blanket on my couch, and settled in for this cinematic experience of anxiety-inducing
highs and melancholic lows, all crescendo’ing into an ending that unfolded in a
“The Usual Suspects” style of storytelling. It ended, the credits rolled to the
backdrop of an ominous orchestral score and I watched. Sat—shook. I woke up the
next day still shook. And the irony is that what shook me had nothing to do
with the major themes of the blockbuster: the perils of war; living with the
consequences of your decisions; being surrounded by wolves in sheep clothing; or
even the danger of succumbing to self-aggrandizing behavior. No, what left me
in deep perseveration was a scene so subtle, yet so profound, that in my opinion
the entire movie hinged on its existence and, in the end, was what truly threatened
the course of history: an assumption. No, not of the mathematical variety rooted
in theory and calculations but a simple assumption rooted in basic human
insecurity and pride.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBD_B67LP_osrEtI51kV5j4UhOFLVG_Dj2xZIdJb2QtIrKZtEjnaOD537i8y0E0rHYcfoYL1V0sYBqcQ8sL66xDmtcSz5GO5V-IRS7fkhH2RvaMkGwYO00Im8gxmKYHzNmXEghUlcZfBPhyL-uKlNnlnR8DeBXBYLXIp8UTac8KF5ZRRJOIya8AKEF_-d/s640/shocked.gif" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBD_B67LP_osrEtI51kV5j4UhOFLVG_Dj2xZIdJb2QtIrKZtEjnaOD537i8y0E0rHYcfoYL1V0sYBqcQ8sL66xDmtcSz5GO5V-IRS7fkhH2RvaMkGwYO00Im8gxmKYHzNmXEghUlcZfBPhyL-uKlNnlnR8DeBXBYLXIp8UTac8KF5ZRRJOIya8AKEF_-d/w239-h239/shocked.gif" width="239" /></a></div>I won’t provide any spoilers, but I’ll just say that the
reveal not only stopped me in proverbial tracks and caused me to take inventory
in ways I may have let such behavior impact my decision making, but also led to
a re-commitment <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to do a better job in
allowing myself to be, well, wrong. Now, let me say this can be more difficult
than you think for some of us for one very important reason: intuition. For while often unexplainable, it is God-given, real, and we all inhabit some modicum of it. But it
is not a perfect science, and it is subject to error. Yet, some of ours may be much stronger than others, which is why leaving that
margin for error is indeed something I struggle with primarily because I am my
grandmother Sallie’s grandchild (IYKYK :-). For if you’re a person whose intuition has
proven accurate <i>way</i> more often than not, it can lead to, dare I say, an
arrogance that can block both growth and meaningful understanding that not only makes us better communicators but, ultimately, better human beings. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LhCZvLcdsBkAd2_pYtvQ_Rc09Y4RRZS9gA-Z45mQ0OnitaU4Hlptljb-R2PqhpRXt_bwvTK8aF6eNOt2MtlYXNFA_BruJw0tdJtaSUOrjO_NX1Zli0gsRIOqXbY0Ch38d1NP981UdSIwhJOqrwzI8WAN8-tJEwA2W2eX29-8rNbGDu3hNWNuCxqNqgtj/s248/open.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="248" data-original-width="203" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LhCZvLcdsBkAd2_pYtvQ_Rc09Y4RRZS9gA-Z45mQ0OnitaU4Hlptljb-R2PqhpRXt_bwvTK8aF6eNOt2MtlYXNFA_BruJw0tdJtaSUOrjO_NX1Zli0gsRIOqXbY0Ch38d1NP981UdSIwhJOqrwzI8WAN8-tJEwA2W2eX29-8rNbGDu3hNWNuCxqNqgtj/s1600/open.jpeg" width="203" /></a></div>And it is in that inability to hold space for such where disagreements,
broken relationships, and failed opportunities to learn may emerge. There are no
absolutes in anything but the truth and, often, the easiest way to dismantle an
assumption is just to ask those questions that need to be asked that removes
all doubt and subsequently sets us and our counterparts free. Yes, sometimes we
fear what the answer will be for what it may reveal about others or ourselves, but that truth will always outweigh living suspended in doubt. For
if one of the principal characters in the movie had asked one simple question instead
of assuming that he knew instead, the legacy of J. Robert Oppenheimer would have
unfolded in a much different way. Dare I say, <i>history </i>may have unfolded
in a much different way.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWicXA_DmrTGozhBuXjs7an3ZDGeR5ViDIs6kLKxBVmG9mmnCFm0e0waUNtm9cMzjR99O5EYA9RALGnqn3g6t4bMqFOWl3NgROErtUM6YxuQKrUFdeGFv7YMo4K6e0PlS0Pe2LzNVNxJmKIe-z9j9rd389JK48pwHBWYK2gHZbX4JWVXOxeOhUEcQ18Uz/s2500/oscars.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2091" data-original-width="2500" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWicXA_DmrTGozhBuXjs7an3ZDGeR5ViDIs6kLKxBVmG9mmnCFm0e0waUNtm9cMzjR99O5EYA9RALGnqn3g6t4bMqFOWl3NgROErtUM6YxuQKrUFdeGFv7YMo4K6e0PlS0Pe2LzNVNxJmKIe-z9j9rd389JK48pwHBWYK2gHZbX4JWVXOxeOhUEcQ18Uz/s320/oscars.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>For this (and sheer excellent storytelling, directing, and acting), I say give Oppenheimer its flowers.
But, as multi-hyphenated entertainer Issa Rae once said, I’m still rooting for
everyone (and everything) black (shoutout to “American Fiction,” which I loved). However,
if we don’t emerge victorious in some Academy categories because we’ve been
defeated by this powerhouse, I won’t be (too) disappointed. I’ve seen it and it was
worth its weight in, well, plutonium <span face=""Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif" style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">😉
</span><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Aptos; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji"; mso-hansi-font-family: Aptos; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But don’t get it twisted: I'll keep my proverbial Oscars-protest-picket sign in my closet dusted off and ready to go for next year because Hollywood is always gonna Hollywood, if you
will. This year, however, I’m trusting they’ll at least get it right in the Best Picture category.</span><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>No Copyright Infringement Intended</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-33501371732089616562023-12-22T16:50:00.007-05:002024-01-30T21:01:39.441-05:00The Recipe for the Restart<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0Y5vCTo5d8W8VJ_IG-trop8t6YXLQZIv3zldR2Fb_R5bPLD2pq58ADdXhXZRszQN_VMLV26cjrNR5qtSG4buwEcGOAMNDLqS8iynlmaO7MHU59GJSsRi8CsW4IWCNDN5zreZuXHHnKv2W6FsednLOUNIpXGS-mEluSmNp2n58hFkmcbJmCfQuPKZVGU9/s909/restart.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="861" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0Y5vCTo5d8W8VJ_IG-trop8t6YXLQZIv3zldR2Fb_R5bPLD2pq58ADdXhXZRszQN_VMLV26cjrNR5qtSG4buwEcGOAMNDLqS8iynlmaO7MHU59GJSsRi8CsW4IWCNDN5zreZuXHHnKv2W6FsednLOUNIpXGS-mEluSmNp2n58hFkmcbJmCfQuPKZVGU9/w221-h234/restart.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>For all of its criticisms, one thing social media has always
done is entertain. In between the rantings (about societal ills) and the ravings
(usually about one’s own achievements) there’s the entertainment factor in the
form of skits, monologues, and wildly accurate observations that make you feel humorlessly
less weird about your own revelations. However, as a lifelong learner, what I’ve
always appreciated most are the posts that bring about pause, reflection, and invaluable
“aha” moments even if that wasn’t the intended goal, which is why one recent
Instagram post in particular sparked the inspiration for this end-of-year post
as we prepare to close out the old and ring in the new.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKNVi8t1mEPIqMIC5BR3UkVsjWStjl5nwojltm8SusUeR7ED_kM2WvmREn_UMG5wM6csPcLTeIfznp3gni-4kNGhm8zOFK1Gilf7NUkaVy9zjni1VOGDuNUrGkhb704Y9t9l09J_RaTPtjUODZRn_lvt3MUYpoRnxml91K2EHgNzYLXR_TR_hHj8B1eeZ/s850/social%20media.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="850" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKNVi8t1mEPIqMIC5BR3UkVsjWStjl5nwojltm8SusUeR7ED_kM2WvmREn_UMG5wM6csPcLTeIfznp3gni-4kNGhm8zOFK1Gilf7NUkaVy9zjni1VOGDuNUrGkhb704Y9t9l09J_RaTPtjUODZRn_lvt3MUYpoRnxml91K2EHgNzYLXR_TR_hHj8B1eeZ/s320/social%20media.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The <a href=" https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyHubGELZtO/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==" target="_blank">Instagram reel</a> of note finds a grandmother doting on her young grandchild
in ways the child’s father simply can not believe in contrast to his own experience
growing up with his mom. As the grandmother purchases and lets the grandson do whatever
he wants, the adult son interjects, “I could barely get a hug [growing up.]”
Her reply, “Well barely get da hell out of my face.” After a series of scenarios
play out where the son continues to express disbelief at her “new and improved”
style of parenting, the video ends with the mom telling her son ,”It’s a different
type of vibe over here; you can’t compete where you don’t compare.” Now
although their banter was intended to be humorous and may even be relatable to
many who have marveled at parents' ability to transform into Grandparents 2.0 once the
next generation arrives, there was an undercurrent of hurt in the son’s voice, not
necessarily because of how his grandmother was showing up for his son but in
not acknowledging the ways in which she had <i>not </i>showed up for him. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOg6cYMLPl5P-9I72U6rQ5lIcAXBKZ5Km221jU1xCHTz24yYaQv5tgVv4yZzetfvHrMdmoX_oEg2zDpLfy-xFRQ2qfpY5dzrtA8uwBN9DW0Csd9kWnkaiZEo1kpphJy_an5h_8FW4TcIbTHMfGMmST5ZRqLWOHX9vtAuxTqQcnMdt_RNew6Tzyg3y2NKp/s1000/man%20child.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="862" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOg6cYMLPl5P-9I72U6rQ5lIcAXBKZ5Km221jU1xCHTz24yYaQv5tgVv4yZzetfvHrMdmoX_oEg2zDpLfy-xFRQ2qfpY5dzrtA8uwBN9DW0Csd9kWnkaiZEo1kpphJy_an5h_8FW4TcIbTHMfGMmST5ZRqLWOHX9vtAuxTqQcnMdt_RNew6Tzyg3y2NKp/w249-h287/man%20child.jpg" width="249" /></a></div>Let me say, this is not an experience I've witnessed personally. My
parents were of the "we-love-our-grandchildren-but-take-them-home-because-we’ve-already-raised-our-six-kids" variety. However, this experience of “do-over” parenting was the experience of a close friend
and, let me just say, those memories for him were both painful to process and conflicting.
After all, who wouldn't want their children to be lavished with an abundance of
unconditional grandparent love; however, in contrast to the love he did not receive, it
tore open a never fully healed wound; a wound he sought to get acknowledged at
times but for which, much like reflected in the reel, would always be dismissed
or responded to with excuses that didn’t quite land. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve also been on the opposite end of this experience, if
you will, with an ex-boyfriend-turned-friend who, out of the blue one evening over
dinner, suggested we have a baby. Pause for reaction. Exactly. However, me
being me, I had to inquire as to what was underneath this unforeseen and, dare
I say, audacious request. After some deliberation, he stated because he hadn’t
showed up how he should have for his child after his divorce, he wanted a chance
to “do it over right.” In other words, instead of acknowledging, apologizing, and
then investing in correcting where he fell short in his past, he preferred to
leave it all behind and hit the restart button—with me (FYI, it’s important to
note I did not accept the offer. Smile). </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_i_79yaFmKEd1YG7J3zlx-vDx9fzfvcgST-Fcbxlyh2lHBJlTeHVmhqAPhguX99N-2pXrN_8-7kHEr8G2UiV2gG6dCHVJq7ocn3qbT4MgN2aeAOvQ1JM0yKtQbqZOujWDVMnW8QbI5T1ahyphenhyphenJXzJm1y7_ZZYBdncFBucM9Gs6Y8gcp_4aAxhkinOK3Q4N/s720/apologizing.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo_i_79yaFmKEd1YG7J3zlx-vDx9fzfvcgST-Fcbxlyh2lHBJlTeHVmhqAPhguX99N-2pXrN_8-7kHEr8G2UiV2gG6dCHVJq7ocn3qbT4MgN2aeAOvQ1JM0yKtQbqZOujWDVMnW8QbI5T1ahyphenhyphenJXzJm1y7_ZZYBdncFBucM9Gs6Y8gcp_4aAxhkinOK3Q4N/s320/apologizing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>And ironically, I’m currently in a
group chat where this dynamic is playing out in a similar manner as well, i.e.,
someone has committed an infraction, everyone knows it, but the perpetrator has
“moved on” to sending funny memes, gifs, and Tik Tok videos in hopes the
infraction will somehow resolve itself and the vibe will be restored. Let me tell
you: I’ve never been in a quieter group chat as, thankfully, no one is interested
in playing a part in such dismissive behavior until the right thing—or the right
conversation—is had. Ignoring, burying, and sweeping the past under the rug doesn’t
make it disappear; it just makes a lumpy rug that’s all the more obvious to
anyone who cares to see it.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBIX_NDv22UtQz2j9uCFhS52kMuFyfiJPzA4HZudeZTwIDLZn7ilmsDo5HXIwskx3nksL5it11vNu86bAwZXdYiztA0EZ75SuuPTmKx5q-foVS2LtoI3hsIXQbozWCb2DziyuLpRQjuDuQHBRn3-gQUH16s8s5bMeNG4PgzTtSxCfriZ_BR7wQqzO9GJ7/s1000/2024.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="1000" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBIX_NDv22UtQz2j9uCFhS52kMuFyfiJPzA4HZudeZTwIDLZn7ilmsDo5HXIwskx3nksL5it11vNu86bAwZXdYiztA0EZ75SuuPTmKx5q-foVS2LtoI3hsIXQbozWCb2DziyuLpRQjuDuQHBRn3-gQUH16s8s5bMeNG4PgzTtSxCfriZ_BR7wQqzO9GJ7/s320/2024.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So what does this have to do with the new year? Everything.
When the ball drops and we belt out the familiar words of Auld Lang Syne, we’ll
also drop the lists, make the proclamations, and re-share those inspirational posts
that speak to how we will do and be better. We announce all the new adventures
we’ll embark on and boast about the self-exploration we’ll begin. But if our
starting anew means ignoring those things in our past that need to be acknowledged
and reconciled, our rebirths will be in vain. Yes, age should bring wisdom and when we know better we should do better but our acknowledgment need not be at the expense of our grand transformations. We may choose to forget the
things we’ve done that caused others pain but, rest assured, our victims do
not. As poet Maya Angelou would once say, at the end of the day people may not
remember exactly what you said or did, but they will remember how you made them
feel. So as the new year dawns, let’s commit to “making those crooked places
straight”; finally having those conversations we’ve ignored; and acknowledging our
transgressions instead of dismissing their occurrences. As writer William
Faulkner famously reminded us, “The past is never dead. It's not even past….”<div><br /></div><div>Wishing everyone a blessed and prosperous 2024! Happy New Year!<br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Photo Credits:
N/A<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>No Copyright
Infringement Intended<o:p></o:p></i></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div><i style="background-color: #539bcd; color: #cc7fff; font-family: Oswald; font-size: 16px;"><br /></i></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8418574191771509058" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #539bcd; color: #cc7fff; font-family: Oswald; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 590px;"><div style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="post-footer" style="background-color: #539bcd; color: #cc7fff; font-family: Oswald; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0.5em 0px;"></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-84185741917715090582023-08-22T22:49:00.035-04:002023-08-31T10:43:48.487-04:00Happy 30th Living Single: Still True Blue and Tight Like Glue<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3BrfIqkj4vctuFJeToqbTxBWs8hSTlHXr8Baq2SD3iGtCVsW_bcbEzD9jW6tuIRnZXcRV5vnWq5DbTzS-fb-AjqzGTgGKJc_BflnSKX-7SfoDXdQ162gV5zx3VuZtkFAjdmXmwk5kBht8pBygeSvoHjCLlopVN1WTVKD3RCQ3KjDvhfu6TpJDfoM6sIGK/s603/IMG_7841.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="427" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3BrfIqkj4vctuFJeToqbTxBWs8hSTlHXr8Baq2SD3iGtCVsW_bcbEzD9jW6tuIRnZXcRV5vnWq5DbTzS-fb-AjqzGTgGKJc_BflnSKX-7SfoDXdQ162gV5zx3VuZtkFAjdmXmwk5kBht8pBygeSvoHjCLlopVN1WTVKD3RCQ3KjDvhfu6TpJDfoM6sIGK/s320/IMG_7841.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>There were a plethora of norms that the pandemic of 2020 immediately stripped out of our lives like daily work commutes and regular trips to our barbers and beauticians. And then there were new norms that crept into our routine out of necessity and the need for connection like DoorDash deliveries and living room dance parties courtesy of rapper-DJ D-Nice's Club Quarantine on Instagram. But then there were those daily habits that sustained us and remained with us long after we removed our masks and ventured from our homes to re-socialize with family and friends. For me, that habit was "meeting up" with Khadijah, Regine, Maxine, Synclaire, Overton, and Kyle, for a few laughs every morning while I drank my coffee and checked work e-mail: a routine that I gleefully continue til this day.<p></p><p>August 22nd marked the 30th anniversary of the hip, urban, sitcom created by writer/producer Yvette Lee Bowser that followed the fictional lives of six black 20-something Brooklynites played by Queen Latifah (Khadijah James), Kim Fields (Regine Hunter), Erika Alexander (Maxine Shaw), Kim Coles (Synclaire James), John Henton (Overton Wakefield Jones), and T.C. Carson (Kyle Barker), as they navigated the high and lows of life, love, and careers. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikX0jFPYO4F8Sc9Wzho6TQ2kMVURaaWlYW81aidkwt1Jf21mr-pUnAU346Rjy1GRDZKw2p1_Ppmb_-hogLrObm98jvjeK0gUjhUF0D75KtVwuRDs50ZOAEFiaTeykDsuQhGkJBWpRHmg3TKXiADeFJ6TFGZ7fvj1187Lz6FJIWncPsyDYU5Pagg26t5lgl/s594/queen%20howard.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="567" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikX0jFPYO4F8Sc9Wzho6TQ2kMVURaaWlYW81aidkwt1Jf21mr-pUnAU346Rjy1GRDZKw2p1_Ppmb_-hogLrObm98jvjeK0gUjhUF0D75KtVwuRDs50ZOAEFiaTeykDsuQhGkJBWpRHmg3TKXiADeFJ6TFGZ7fvj1187Lz6FJIWncPsyDYU5Pagg26t5lgl/w273-h286/queen%20howard.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>When the sitcom debuted in '93, I was a bright-eyed, twenty-year-old heading into my junior year at historic Howard University as a print journalism major. With the leading character, Khadijah James, portraying a Howard alum, and the creator and editor of the fictitious Flava Magazine, you'd think the show would have resonated with me more during that time than it does now. However, despite seeing every episode during its original television run, the appreciation I held for the series then does not compare to the admiration I hold for it now. Much like hindsight being 20/20, it is in my adulthood that I have discovered how far ahead of its time the series was in portraying us as young attorneys, stock brokers, business owners, and boutique buyers, all while tackling issues that would not come to the forefront of national debates until decades later. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BjAI5Ez4eqM3cGCKq0C7kQtzNqjo5yx6VZ8VAx8e8S_9qXADFuAzxRB_BjiKOUUggv1A6ivsfBEQabd9AI_AyKYTmq3lx6_pjai33nDjSmEPsA82HxGErQH91ZaSnTJHDYp1FYsRlade8xbu3RqyVMrzpt-YY4c53eXonAKlffzxEwDWPdGNjClBM1f9/s640/moms.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="640" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BjAI5Ez4eqM3cGCKq0C7kQtzNqjo5yx6VZ8VAx8e8S_9qXADFuAzxRB_BjiKOUUggv1A6ivsfBEQabd9AI_AyKYTmq3lx6_pjai33nDjSmEPsA82HxGErQH91ZaSnTJHDYp1FYsRlade8xbu3RqyVMrzpt-YY4c53eXonAKlffzxEwDWPdGNjClBM1f9/s320/moms.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>There was the episode on hair discrimination long before the CROWN Act, which prohibits discrimination based on hair style and hair texture, was enacted in California in 2019. There was the episode on same-sex marriage before the 2015 Supreme Court Law made such unions legal in all 50 states. And there was the episode on black mental health and the importance of therapy long before social media posts and podcasts began to remind us daily of its relevant necessity in our community. But it was also a plethora of other ground-breaking topics the show would take on such as reverse female-to-male sexual harassment; family planning via artificial insemination; and the fears often associated with mammaplasty (also known as breast augmentation/surgery) that would quickly set the show apart from its contemporaries' storylines. And let's not forget those subtle gems like casting Queen Latifah and Kim Field's real-life mothers as their characters' mothers or the delightful laundry list of cameos from entertainers and athletes that spanned generations from Flip Wilson to Jim Brown to Eartha Kitt to TLC to Montell Jordan to Heavy D to Grant Hill to Alonzo Mourning to Cheryl Miller to Shemar Moore to Terrance Howard to Nia Long to Arsenio Hall...just to name a few! <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YkgWAEn4FsVjJwqDxspHDvgXLKHYor1WnE38Atinzm6TFpXjyBFNagLKPBRhIXFPq-9_Zp6C-jZfvsmEts9xmoNOYiCcPnY3sFmKUyP7s0nVEHagkYo2nl2PK8rcuZKcs964gqzXr3dJgnTdoXUTF5lB5sdjb77sBGLozrTqcgy0T6KTL8-1nDYeksv9/s750/kyle.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="382" data-original-width="750" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YkgWAEn4FsVjJwqDxspHDvgXLKHYor1WnE38Atinzm6TFpXjyBFNagLKPBRhIXFPq-9_Zp6C-jZfvsmEts9xmoNOYiCcPnY3sFmKUyP7s0nVEHagkYo2nl2PK8rcuZKcs964gqzXr3dJgnTdoXUTF5lB5sdjb77sBGLozrTqcgy0T6KTL8-1nDYeksv9/s320/kyle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>And then there was the Afro-centrism that was always on full display courtesy of natural hairstyles, artwork, artifacts, and fashion, despite character Regine displaying an ever-evolving wig collection that would've made rapper Lil' Kim envious during that time. And just as noteworthy, would be such episodes as seasons five's "Forgive Us Our Trespasses" that would be the first since the 1970's "Good Times" that toyed with the discussion <i>and </i>depiction of "Black Jesus," in a role masterfully played by The Best Man's Harold Perrineau as the Savior himself. But of all of the first-to-do-it moments Living Single could plant its flag on, most notably would be the one that gave its audience the opportunity to participate in story writing by allowing viewers to decide how the episode should end.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rM877Mv1-KadXa4uWKqW0B2WYfG78aijp4Q1ATgdgKl-SJiPcbWQUu4bPQyrvXrxAmVjvVVPn97iPJyGOT-cWR4pQf6VlUJQ0sls-eAbIx7KFAE70YUtkmwbO44NIkH-lFGpIhAyeocOZgeMMxwcuOQBap0LeMtLjueuGSk86KF0SIheK0W5N3WaLeCp/s236/morris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="161" data-original-width="236" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rM877Mv1-KadXa4uWKqW0B2WYfG78aijp4Q1ATgdgKl-SJiPcbWQUu4bPQyrvXrxAmVjvVVPn97iPJyGOT-cWR4pQf6VlUJQ0sls-eAbIx7KFAE70YUtkmwbO44NIkH-lFGpIhAyeocOZgeMMxwcuOQBap0LeMtLjueuGSk86KF0SIheK0W5N3WaLeCp/w290-h198/morris.jpg" width="290" /></a></div>When new brownstone tenant, Hamilton, played by another Best Man alum, Morris Chestnut, guest starred in season one's two-part episode "Love Thy Neighbor," viewers were asked to call a toll-free number and vote for Khadijah, Regine, or Maxine to be selected as his paramour (spoiler alert: the highest number of votes were for Khadijah). Yet it remains my favorite episode due in part to character Khadijah breaking television's third wall and stating to the viewing audience, "you did this to me..." at the conclusion of the episode and after to what turned out to be a less than enjoyable date with Hamilton. Today, the episode continues to run, without the call-in option of course, which makes Latifah's response the best inside joke ever for us day-one fans who know exactly what she's talking about but which probably still leaves newer viewers of the series perplexed. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqBgKv52jYuqUJSVxjPtfMdWTLMyyk5RVjcs8HRSgMALb412Q70iVEuTF8jeVQ1cIomAa52duKzLlO7JQ8w0q7pGShofBZefNcv9yaZHBM0s6Z6cPg3CvPDqtwfDXWKg7OMCgTjGirp74pHgbFuDM4VtgebeBSJphjBUHKWEK5leAGyzjFd5WlkehvZpA/s1000/john.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="1000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyqBgKv52jYuqUJSVxjPtfMdWTLMyyk5RVjcs8HRSgMALb412Q70iVEuTF8jeVQ1cIomAa52duKzLlO7JQ8w0q7pGShofBZefNcv9yaZHBM0s6Z6cPg3CvPDqtwfDXWKg7OMCgTjGirp74pHgbFuDM4VtgebeBSJphjBUHKWEK5leAGyzjFd5WlkehvZpA/s320/john.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Of course the series, which is as beloved now as it was then, was not without its hiccups: though Synclaire (Kim Coles) and building handyman Overton (John Henton) would be the series' beloved series' couple, it was Fields and Henton who were a real life couple "on the low" during season one, which fizzled before season two; and later Fields and Carson, who played investment banker Kyle Barker, would leave the show before the series' end, and be replaced by actor Mel Jackson to try and fill the void. In a later interview, Fields would suggest that due to stress around her divorce, she departed the show early to focus on her mental health. However, Carson would return for the final two episodes of the series, in which it would be revealed that his character--thanks to Maxine being artificially inseminated at the clinic where he donated his sperm--would become a father and the two would finally become an official couple after four seasons of an on again/off again comically, tumultuous love affair.<div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefLqiBpPsJH12NqQP1yganx9I2UiO7aMGhCYDcC8wHxeK2UdYL-4_8615rJWT1VAOH5IXAq7zHNkDguAEIFFj_3zBrEwNAp0O3KKWDEDhWTSf8aewgP-6hSlHCALoIWTJOLxpZj9cZ0meolO1mSUkTDr0kwKog3SBni9mRLUhUpLXj5Ni46iuJO5TuYa0/s640/CP.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="640" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefLqiBpPsJH12NqQP1yganx9I2UiO7aMGhCYDcC8wHxeK2UdYL-4_8615rJWT1VAOH5IXAq7zHNkDguAEIFFj_3zBrEwNAp0O3KKWDEDhWTSf8aewgP-6hSlHCALoIWTJOLxpZj9cZ0meolO1mSUkTDr0kwKog3SBni9mRLUhUpLXj5Ni46iuJO5TuYa0/s320/CP.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>But hiccups aside, the series would make its own mark in television history, while being rumored to spark the creation of one of television's more celebrated white sitcoms, "Friends" (if you know, you know ;-), and would serve as a springboard for further propelling the show's actors into careers on the big screen, on Broadway, on comedy stages, and even behind the camera. And on a personal note, it would also further the career of my very own cousin, Charles Penland, who landed the leading role in season one/episode two's "I'll Take Your Man," as the beau in the center of a love triangle with Regine and Maxine, giving me and my family our very own personal connection to the beloved sitcom forever.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0Yafn8N7DhhYhvAR-OB66KcVMAeulC1qhlRZfRrLb2OuOdXVkwd7Wbpeq1cIqlSe7CSIHllaT5y8btece7svXpNY7W2nO9ms5hEWIRg08t6YRBbIFKi_JrlZF-KGdYxz9KOd3EDcv6zLeZN8C2F4_dvgYMBUbAgB_mBj8u0ioagh8xOuyKzpcsGQKIeW/s640/cast%202.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0Yafn8N7DhhYhvAR-OB66KcVMAeulC1qhlRZfRrLb2OuOdXVkwd7Wbpeq1cIqlSe7CSIHllaT5y8btece7svXpNY7W2nO9ms5hEWIRg08t6YRBbIFKi_JrlZF-KGdYxz9KOd3EDcv6zLeZN8C2F4_dvgYMBUbAgB_mBj8u0ioagh8xOuyKzpcsGQKIeW/s320/cast%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Ultimately, Living Single would be that first mirror many of us Gen X'ers, in particular black women, would have held up to us in an authentic, comical, and fashionably stunning way while we navigated our own friendships, careers, and relationships. In fact, creator Bowser stated in a recent <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/nbcblk/living-single-feels-love-letter-black-women-creator-says-rcna99784" target="_blank">interview </a>reflecting on the show's impact "I wanted to create a series that centered on and celebrated women," she said. "When you create something that is intended to be a love letter, and you pour love into it over time, what I've found is that you continue to get love back over an extended and unexpected period of time." Which is why it's safe to say that even 30 years later, Living Single continues to be one of our great American love stories for the ways it entertained and educated us, and remained unapologetic in how it centered and celebrated blackness--and looked damn fly all while doing so. There's no denying that in a 90s kind of world, we were blessed to have our girls--and guys--and the creation that would make Living Single the black national treasure that it was and continues to be today. <p></p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-85787002928831781352023-07-07T23:03:00.000-04:002023-07-07T23:03:20.982-04:00And in This Corner...Social Media vs Silence<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftXaKvNmFHik9mOLkuY77OzUzSmLRIAZUjFrUAVM4617ZoS8JpQsv3uEbm4kc5SnD2v2sjVRqS0ByLKIcsgTk49_MnmOab8nfAg3_nA6p_5cRXNltVhn8ljui_tsb5ve-d1EM6cAuQVqTSvuUeMcgZTm6UFGIzmvXv3SsuoS8Scdxey3N6rbbVzVEa77Q/s640/shhh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgftXaKvNmFHik9mOLkuY77OzUzSmLRIAZUjFrUAVM4617ZoS8JpQsv3uEbm4kc5SnD2v2sjVRqS0ByLKIcsgTk49_MnmOab8nfAg3_nA6p_5cRXNltVhn8ljui_tsb5ve-d1EM6cAuQVqTSvuUeMcgZTm6UFGIzmvXv3SsuoS8Scdxey3N6rbbVzVEa77Q/w365-h205/shhh.jpg" width="365" /></a></div>There's an unanswerable question my friends and I often entertain ourselves with whenever someone initiates a beef, clapback, or inappropriate reveal on social media: how did these people show up in real life before the convenience of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and the like. Were they the kids who started fights in the cafeteria? The teens who got on the phone and called everyone in their phonebooks from A to Z to spread gossip? Or were they the drama queens and kings who exaggerated the simplest of situations for attention? The answer is probably all of the above, because much like is said about any vice: they don't <i>make </i>you who you are, they simply <i>expose </i>who you are. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZz09tcMawM78QgVw4PstIpV-wp5t6qF3buL4PwVTpVkbZsHM-L9nWHDGTgSh_kGu9EHmu2N_V0oJK7zbJLpxnTye1Zpd7Jgq_wgGvDpi5VkkzwhBonQ0U8QyFinc_fksxehWd-QoFOlvNOM3x6Z1Km7NMD-GD1WDdFw14GtOl1e6pQTC0FL6eyPZmAibX/s1280/keke%20darius.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZz09tcMawM78QgVw4PstIpV-wp5t6qF3buL4PwVTpVkbZsHM-L9nWHDGTgSh_kGu9EHmu2N_V0oJK7zbJLpxnTye1Zpd7Jgq_wgGvDpi5VkkzwhBonQ0U8QyFinc_fksxehWd-QoFOlvNOM3x6Z1Km7NMD-GD1WDdFw14GtOl1e6pQTC0FL6eyPZmAibX/w388-h218/keke%20darius.jpg" width="388" /></a></div>And the recent Keke Palmer vs her baby daddy nee' Darius Jackson debacle is providing no time like the present to talk about it. At this point, for anyone who follows the child actress turned multi-hyphenate media darling, you've been given a delightful front row seat to her glow up personally, professionally, and--most recently--physically, thanks to what Keke has declared as her "mom bod" credited to the birth of new son, Leodis Jackson. Simply put, Keke has been glowing inside and out--and her energy has been infectious and requested from her invitation to host Saturday Night Live (where she officially revealed her pregnancy) to her recent interview with Vice President Kamala Harris. In between these milestone moments, we got glimpses of her coupledom journey with beau Darius as well as their funny co-parenting adventures. We'd come to expect the funny Tik Tok videos and Instagram posts, and looked forward to what humorous yet insightful musings about life our "favorite lil' cousin" would drop. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBq26zMXEyonYRsbuMcWIlWpEa26I8EGGykbeR5P9Isxc8486gdvCoO4L8MxiYB6Dhhg3RvFMCx6vprORhBthO5u0Yh8bczol5wmJvX3xemf5DalJg7Uc84ROx73-5qw88I_PBeMkGCGgQgbUS0psgyw0hhpVxgZ8xWw2cCPwClcNxxqBYXzU00vbZWZHV/s2150/keke.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="2150" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBq26zMXEyonYRsbuMcWIlWpEa26I8EGGykbeR5P9Isxc8486gdvCoO4L8MxiYB6Dhhg3RvFMCx6vprORhBthO5u0Yh8bczol5wmJvX3xemf5DalJg7Uc84ROx73-5qw88I_PBeMkGCGgQgbUS0psgyw0hhpVxgZ8xWw2cCPwClcNxxqBYXzU00vbZWZHV/w357-h179/keke.png" width="357" /></a></div>What we didn't expect--and definitely not so soon--was the possible ending of their relationship thanks to a public display of disrespect. And deciding who disrespected who--and first--is what continues to be debated across entertainment blogs from The Shade Room to the Jasmine Brand and is even being reposted by such celebrities as comedian and commentator D.L. Hughley. Some would say Keke's revealing dress she wore to the recent Usher concert on a girl's trip to Las Vegas, where the R&B crooner serenaded her much to her delight, was the culprit. Others would say it was Darius' unexpected Twitter post highlighting and questioning her attire choices in light of her new title as "mother" and measured against "standards, morals, and traditions." And soon Keke would drop her own Tik Tok dancing and lip syncing the lyrics "if you 'gon act up, we gon' link up" in as a subliminal but very clear message to Darius. And without hesitation, and much less respect, almost everyone would offer an opinion or an insult to the quickly growing "injury." Yet, the only true victim I could identify in any of this after 48 hours of discourse was the Sanctity of Silence that continues to get grossly disregarded in this age of social media madness. Or more simply stated, keeping your business, <i>your </i>business. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BmF7nPSRZnn6yBBAU5zNm_RpvVAo8YwSn7923zvmFmhTizzArNEKXPPg0ekOkYWeYJwv-Ad_lBXqXU3Vjhi9S8nu5znWGuBsjx5TWDPQRRxm6-DfaypsBzrT8CWQMv7V1ox71cyEPmSEZIM3aza9TdA8JYt6GFoy7uLU_pXyxrH8wndSSvyPvRNV2iwU/s364/emotions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="205" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BmF7nPSRZnn6yBBAU5zNm_RpvVAo8YwSn7923zvmFmhTizzArNEKXPPg0ekOkYWeYJwv-Ad_lBXqXU3Vjhi9S8nu5znWGuBsjx5TWDPQRRxm6-DfaypsBzrT8CWQMv7V1ox71cyEPmSEZIM3aza9TdA8JYt6GFoy7uLU_pXyxrH8wndSSvyPvRNV2iwU/w225-h400/emotions.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>To be fair, I can't chastise a man or woman when the actions of a loved one elicits emotions, be it insecurity, jealousy, or even sadness, that creates a level of discomfort or pain one may not have known they were capable of harboring. I also can't chastise a man or woman for choosing to celebrate him or herself how he or she so chooses even if others question when, where, or how that should be done. But what I can and will chastise is how many people use social media to navigate and process those feelings or use it as a distraction to properly confront those feelings. And in the end all that remains is an incitement of trauma and an elevation of drama for airing grievances to a million--or even 10--followers who don't truly know--or care--about you or your loved one. Yes, feelings are real, valid, and deserve to be acknowledged. But to quote Uncle George in the cult classic "ATL," you gotta know the difference between what's real and what you feel because they're often not the same and, more importantly, don't need to be shared with strangers.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxBJlJj4C3omhxmXzVA0-rvAvWrOOfa8QqmaYna4wVtA60_PeM77rQLqBHLobMP2UNMKErxbwYTvNiT-8ZslLKbmo6Yisd7T8JQmH1AE0epUoF6bq-CS2BjTizvfNOBrY4LkyOIxOi6EOug3xcleb13vYymeQeCM-NHd5ctyUlIZeckMIJyb01Ync8PrV/s1280/couple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxBJlJj4C3omhxmXzVA0-rvAvWrOOfa8QqmaYna4wVtA60_PeM77rQLqBHLobMP2UNMKErxbwYTvNiT-8ZslLKbmo6Yisd7T8JQmH1AE0epUoF6bq-CS2BjTizvfNOBrY4LkyOIxOi6EOug3xcleb13vYymeQeCM-NHd5ctyUlIZeckMIJyb01Ync8PrV/s320/couple.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Yes, there is a lot that couples are called to navigate, and the ups and downs in relationships are inevitable. And often times we are none the wiser of what goes on even in the unions of some of our closest friends and family nor are they privy to what goes on in ours. We rise, we fall, and we pray to rise again. Yet, the one thing that has often stood in the pathway of reconciliation when there is a breakdown in the relationship is the sting of public humiliation; a sting that can turn into a sore that can turn into a bruise that may never heal. And what took less than 200 Twitter characters to destroy may take a lifetime to repair IF you're lucky.<div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVOt082C5nHryaxqH6t01N_avV9mFO9Y2A8OpiTi0HCcYSheuSKD0ewaAAcfSwW7I6Ba-5P6hgK5F4XwRhkv9JL0W-16MqbY-YRZ7dYpdCM5K7mf_EgiBOrFuizFeMHO9Mco8y0XQ05PZDQJRX7R5TsvXVuGIY1fGEd1FhOJ5wlxpFHqf3BdtJwLOIDDN/s900/growth.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="900" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVOt082C5nHryaxqH6t01N_avV9mFO9Y2A8OpiTi0HCcYSheuSKD0ewaAAcfSwW7I6Ba-5P6hgK5F4XwRhkv9JL0W-16MqbY-YRZ7dYpdCM5K7mf_EgiBOrFuizFeMHO9Mco8y0XQ05PZDQJRX7R5TsvXVuGIY1fGEd1FhOJ5wlxpFHqf3BdtJwLOIDDN/s320/growth.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>However, Keke and Darius is not the first couple nor will they be the last, unfortunately, whose woes will play out for all to see AND weigh in on. But I pray for the day when folks will begin to value each other enough to share their concerns, their pains, and their fears with their loved ones, one on one, and in a space where healthy communication, understanding, and growth can occur. The opinions of many can't help a situation, but it can certainly hurt it, and there's nothing the public can ever offer except biased judgment on subjective narratives that create nothing but even more confusion, doubt, and drama. As is often jokingly said on social media, "We want out of the group chat." In all seriousness, it's time for folks to put the high school antics behind and do the inner work that graduates them to a place of maturity both for themselves, their partners, and--in Keke and Darius' case--their child. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWIdAbDM0amb2dhzY75xQCSUy6ePzKH04aJepxaOcdwutXO5XU_wgavYAyk1uBbpYsK16rCXaZEljx2dW3HAInEek22N9LBHxFO4m6r75GRcFWr21n2gFuK9Pyq_zwy1WVnEwhpb426xpdTUUEqANlCBbG3x0qqmSrcmGf9e6KPb3mjD1OhO-PEbqT9eK/s1280/couple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div><p></p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A. No copyright infringement is intended.</i></p></div><div><br /></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-28500154923752544912023-03-09T13:25:00.001-05:002023-03-12T20:37:51.598-04:00The Complex Relationship Between Goals, Dreams, & Fantasies<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAMECAX-1c47LvPtOHx3cJl-n4d16DqJYzPsXJekoyG7p_Aool08acJ5aO0f-RAek6u7KlHfMGnGPLYe1yqYZTc2JTayLxM574gpMEckkTI5WoFLNpKTj92cC2e-DXjCkJpxeOVLnWJUQPTGdRCrFFw78UhfxjuM3OdZLX1MBazo3sIxLNaFfQxhFBg/s296/plan%20sign.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="170" data-original-width="296" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUAMECAX-1c47LvPtOHx3cJl-n4d16DqJYzPsXJekoyG7p_Aool08acJ5aO0f-RAek6u7KlHfMGnGPLYe1yqYZTc2JTayLxM574gpMEckkTI5WoFLNpKTj92cC2e-DXjCkJpxeOVLnWJUQPTGdRCrFFw78UhfxjuM3OdZLX1MBazo3sIxLNaFfQxhFBg/w366-h210/plan%20sign.jpeg" width="366" /></a></div>Recently I was in conversation with a family member about their co-worker's small business idea, with whom he was working with to try and create--or inspire--a plan of action. Me being me, I had a ton of questions: What was the coworker ultimately trying to accomplish? When did the he want to reach his goal? Would it be a side business or replace his current job? How was he planning to define success in regards to the goal? By the end of the conversation, my family member stated although he had raised similar questions, his coworker never provided any real in-depth or insightful answers. What they mostly spent time doing was just talking about the idea. Finally, I asked my family member, "Is this what your coworker really wants to do or just what he <i>thinks </i>he wants to do?" The reply: "At this point, who knows."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjG20kd9k9JkeBRUyGpVIbW2v9i4fTl2GI7o_cttJIbTAD0VUksZqTyRwO68YF1NSOrDAvmbb8bLHC0CezNJ5psm3JFUg4Q2bjhPE-BtkPb8yUICPmQkyNRu2-HeYvJmwWWmzTIiWl5YCAv1u8GiA6BO08-gMrJN8i3FDUxrKAH9xvH3MtveD4yHO1_g/s1440/impact.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjG20kd9k9JkeBRUyGpVIbW2v9i4fTl2GI7o_cttJIbTAD0VUksZqTyRwO68YF1NSOrDAvmbb8bLHC0CezNJ5psm3JFUg4Q2bjhPE-BtkPb8yUICPmQkyNRu2-HeYvJmwWWmzTIiWl5YCAv1u8GiA6BO08-gMrJN8i3FDUxrKAH9xvH3MtveD4yHO1_g/s320/impact.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Oddly, I had these same ruminations recently when I fell down the rabbit hole of the new BET series, "The Impact Atlanta." The unscripted reality series offers a behind-the-scenes look into the lives of Atlanta's top influencers and--although I doubt I'm its target audience--was surprisingly enjoyable for me to follow the cast of Generation Z hustlers--Jayda Cheaves, Ari Fletcher, Lakeyah, Dess Dior, and Arrogant Tae--as they navigated trials and tribulations around family, mental health, business management and, not surprisingly, social media gossip and feuds. Fan favorite--and one of my own--was Tae, née Dionte Gray, a Chicago native celebrity hairstylist and wig guru, whose mastery with all things hair have landed him such high profile clients as Nicki Minaj, Teyana Taylor, and Lala Anthony. <div><br />The Impact's premiere season storyline for Tae primarily focused on his desire to open his first brick-and-mortar hair salon, which he wanted to be the first of a chain. The audience was allowed to go along when he and his assistants/friends looked at a vacant space, which they all quickly rejected due to size and safety. More interestingly, however, was hearing Tae share his hair salon dream with friends and family, which was met with everyone being both encouraging yet somewhat exhausted as if they'd heard this narrative from him before and repeatedly--because they had!</div><div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFX0O7re0buFfYPrjaaA8FvdAe8xpgJCX3vpvQFK_OAbSAcz3ZHGCwJMNEbC0VgfFzX31Nh4j0ELaihTJYjZC1K4md8ho-j9ASM6P_m9X3UbeN3lrBr-MscmdUiMcPHAbDQ0uDWSV0dhpMei_D40cqhsQArKRNT1QXRhaPZT8_JNRnj887_CVK3rmRwA/s640/tae%20lala.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFX0O7re0buFfYPrjaaA8FvdAe8xpgJCX3vpvQFK_OAbSAcz3ZHGCwJMNEbC0VgfFzX31Nh4j0ELaihTJYjZC1K4md8ho-j9ASM6P_m9X3UbeN3lrBr-MscmdUiMcPHAbDQ0uDWSV0dhpMei_D40cqhsQArKRNT1QXRhaPZT8_JNRnj887_CVK3rmRwA/w288-h288/tae%20lala.jpeg" width="288" /></a></div>In fact, many of his friends seemed more confident in the idea than he may have realized he did at times based on their exasperated responses of "You just need to do it already!" which was often countered by an equally exasperated Tae stating, "I know. I just need to find the right spot." However, with a booming business and entertainment industry that has put Atlanta prominently and popularly on the map the past three decades, I'm sure Tae's friends, family, and now the viewing audience were all thinking the same thing: "There is no way you haven't found a single, suitable spot yet." And then it hit me: this was most likely not Tae's dream or even goal, but perhaps a mere fantasy that was much more enjoyable in theory than it would ever be in reality. But here's the gag: there's nothing wrong with that. The challenge is in being able to recognize the difference so you can either set yourself on a course of action or simply set yourself free.</div><div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DuzdU3qtGCsyesDFwmcII7hwBrG_OYMGX2ZpOO_sZKndXUdnvoftXKsUKWjYT8SwE1kd2Xyd2bSkIsIjswl6u1c8fusrk5374fqf5s7nttGxTKxMQXZ3Fnt6C7oAneKgWcV-kqviQh84hABrsguX1bXgn43woQjabTRqHZRFxRuoVoOb82tKdx_-2g/s565/IMG_5276.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="551" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DuzdU3qtGCsyesDFwmcII7hwBrG_OYMGX2ZpOO_sZKndXUdnvoftXKsUKWjYT8SwE1kd2Xyd2bSkIsIjswl6u1c8fusrk5374fqf5s7nttGxTKxMQXZ3Fnt6C7oAneKgWcV-kqviQh84hABrsguX1bXgn43woQjabTRqHZRFxRuoVoOb82tKdx_-2g/w272-h280/IMG_5276.JPG" width="272" /></a></div>One of the best quotes I have ever heard, which I use and rely on until this day is, "The difference between a dream and a goal is a timeline." Others have simplified it by saying, "A goal without a plan is just a wish." Said even plainer, don't just talk about it; be about it. In whatever form, I can not express how valuable those words have been in my life in helping me accomplish much of what I have; words that I now find myself sharing with my nieces and nephews as they set off into their own adult lives. In other words, if you're going to reach any goal, you need to set a time you want that goal to be accomplished--a month, a year, five years from now--and begin to work backwards in charting a course for how to get there including what sacrifices may need to be made, what it will cost (literally and figuratively), who you may need to engage to help you, what classes you may need to take to better understand how to get there and, just as important, how you will celebrate your win when you do.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQT6GSwNni9cevo2FFEzO9qPhjmyT0whlRSlYn0psQtwzVLGaQ2lRfvPhV_RlvRu-JQU4HtP7M-EdqYeMZPytnP26f2VMYawOraIHFnQv6mYnDYwY_681u3FbJ-QPbVUVeXl12dE0DzrMz91_JSH7T0_vMHnsBWuHH_7dqdbyJDoidnRJs52QntkArg/s634/thinking.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="634" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQT6GSwNni9cevo2FFEzO9qPhjmyT0whlRSlYn0psQtwzVLGaQ2lRfvPhV_RlvRu-JQU4HtP7M-EdqYeMZPytnP26f2VMYawOraIHFnQv6mYnDYwY_681u3FbJ-QPbVUVeXl12dE0DzrMz91_JSH7T0_vMHnsBWuHH_7dqdbyJDoidnRJs52QntkArg/s320/thinking.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Furthermore, you have to be able to define what success looks like for yourself and by yourself, and not how it looks to others. If your goal is to get a law degree for your own "bucket list-self satisfaction," that alone can be success, and not necessarily starting your own law practice as others might suggest. Perhaps you're a chef who enjoys serving a small roster of catering clients. However, it's sure not to be long before someone will proclaim, "You need to open your own restaurant" when you know the running a large business is not your joy or even your strength. That's because the dreams others have for you are often nothing more than fantasies for yourself. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everything that sounds good is not necessarily good for <i>you</i>, and everything doesn't need to come to fruition or be taken to the next level. Sometimes fantasies are needed just to give your mind a joyful reprieve from reality, the same way watching your favorite movie does. Yet, frustrations are sure to arise if you haven't done enough honest soul searching to figure out what category your thoughts belong, for nothing will put you more in turmoil--and a wasted spiral of time--than chasing a dream your soul already knows should remain a fantasy. However, once you decide what your thoughts truly are, you can boldly and confidently set off to put your plan into motion or simply take comfort in being exactly where you are, despite what the world may say.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_GHj7SMw56uvBU9NqO8yqJNdu4ruIrmK6Hbai5z4YYBvFEbd7vAuRy2fMEJAte3n8i_uuNB_rD4Rx5XX570f6sd794VDm34RTS9GgUkiSX55r2zeWDRiI-TsmFzMI4Ga9WgaViUaBRm2l5dOQOIHjNzSRyfLnUhpiG4SStb0Poc0I-ugi2aIkejIzQ/s769/moon.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="600" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_GHj7SMw56uvBU9NqO8yqJNdu4ruIrmK6Hbai5z4YYBvFEbd7vAuRy2fMEJAte3n8i_uuNB_rD4Rx5XX570f6sd794VDm34RTS9GgUkiSX55r2zeWDRiI-TsmFzMI4Ga9WgaViUaBRm2l5dOQOIHjNzSRyfLnUhpiG4SStb0Poc0I-ugi2aIkejIzQ/w236-h302/moon.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>At the end of the Impact's first season, I was convinced even if Tae finally opens his salon, it will be successful but that is most likely not where his joy will be. The joy Tae exhibited each episode doing the hair of clients and friends out of the comfort of his home or theirs, told me everything I needed to know: he had already found his true joy. It was in the connection he made with clients-turned-friends and in creating head-turning-looks for music videos, magazine shoots, and red carpets. Anything more he obtained would simply be for show and, of course, more money but not necessarily more joy. So as we approach midyear when many of us stop to reassess our new year resolutions, let's be honest about what we say we want. Let's truly assess the difference between dreams and fantasies and whether either truly belongs to you or are being projected onto you by others. But, if you find the dream simply won't let you go and continues to call out to you without ceasing, get to setting that deadline and crafting a plan of action that will help you reach it. Timelines will shift, hiccups will emerge but, as author Norman Vincent Peale stated, "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."<p></p><div><br /></div><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A. No copyright infringement is intended.</i></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-61534703390654913452023-01-06T18:44:00.000-05:002023-01-06T18:44:43.188-05:00The Power of "No" in the New Year<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvTq8O0LSP8JWOeHRQPx9PuT8qkwdonfwK4bitvcxo4r9GVgk3DVUlNWB9weQax4kURZPjngWsuFBWr0RpCYfefVTqy5Gw3SxKrSmDPuGiHiWL1TfgL8X6I_a-5kzWpNooKSzd4RhboqVc_M1wsVIJM24gio-5uRjEaC6a6_L1HOEemMoVNYzRLSRiw/s620/no.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="620" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvTq8O0LSP8JWOeHRQPx9PuT8qkwdonfwK4bitvcxo4r9GVgk3DVUlNWB9weQax4kURZPjngWsuFBWr0RpCYfefVTqy5Gw3SxKrSmDPuGiHiWL1TfgL8X6I_a-5kzWpNooKSzd4RhboqVc_M1wsVIJM24gio-5uRjEaC6a6_L1HOEemMoVNYzRLSRiw/s320/no.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It's that time again. You know the vibes: when the start of a new year finds us saying "yes" to darn near any and everything from book clubs to basket weaving courses to lion taming classes. We start (or restart) gym memberships, declare healthier eating habits, commit to increase our spirtual growth, and vow to connect more with family and friends. And there's no debate that many of these are noble, well-intentioned ideas that may encourage growth and benefit our lives. Yet if past behavior is any indicator of future behavior, somewhere around the end of the first quarter, we discover we've added too much to our plates and hit our burnout wall on our paths to becoming our best selves. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-QFxNO848V4ngWDHDmIJody9hHGGR5ey1hkX_unEANCDXoVPdZmsh-suYR4i47VvQ59pbL8_Hp_QmtA4xV_unKWzB6kZ2ntf-Y5uDfDLBGPNPfgcXL3sRoj64QTLX98DSEnoK-ax0xStTzWL7cFYpLuTOyJBOlkXjZ26c_MtyIA6PEpQHm1eXD_BjA/s800/juggling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="800" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-QFxNO848V4ngWDHDmIJody9hHGGR5ey1hkX_unEANCDXoVPdZmsh-suYR4i47VvQ59pbL8_Hp_QmtA4xV_unKWzB6kZ2ntf-Y5uDfDLBGPNPfgcXL3sRoj64QTLX98DSEnoK-ax0xStTzWL7cFYpLuTOyJBOlkXjZ26c_MtyIA6PEpQHm1eXD_BjA/s320/juggling.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Let's face it: In Western civilization, we are conditioned, encouraged, and even celebrated for what we can do and how much we can juggle. Be it on the job or even in our homes, terms like "superwoman" and "superman," "hustler," "go-getter," and the "strong black man/woman" trope become both our identities and the albatrosses around our necks we can't seem to free ourselves from. Feelings of not enough or not doing enough abound. And it's not long before our mental, emotional, and physical health are at stake. So, here's a radical idea for us all in 2023: just say "no." No to the parties and brunches we aren't excited to attend; no to staying in group chats and social circles that drain us more than they uplift us; no to chairing one more event or group; no to adding more hours to our work day (especially when not even asked to!); no to being the first to volunteer to bake the cupcakes for your child's class; no to coaching one more little league sport; no to any and everything that we discover we're doing more of for others than for what serves our highest purpose and brings us joy. Sorry, Nike, we're no longer "just doing it."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0v_jZbrCq6FVMBa6zI2PbHMxrT-vcXpKxHOomOJCCVpx6JTNx7RoBudHlAvJfD9nXMftj9Oyj3bfS3CSXXTruybW__x6NpEAaF8kfdvobIY_Hf5gpVptvaqjOCcW0NsvyGe6ub3cFeArbUGsB3K49G5pf6js1zNCYeBJQhXS9vf0dJRPUKzt8l0DOqA/s551/meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="551" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0v_jZbrCq6FVMBa6zI2PbHMxrT-vcXpKxHOomOJCCVpx6JTNx7RoBudHlAvJfD9nXMftj9Oyj3bfS3CSXXTruybW__x6NpEAaF8kfdvobIY_Hf5gpVptvaqjOCcW0NsvyGe6ub3cFeArbUGsB3K49G5pf6js1zNCYeBJQhXS9vf0dJRPUKzt8l0DOqA/s320/meme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Ironically, saying "yes" isn't often a struggle folks wrestle with. Instead, it's the fear of the backlash one may receive to saying "no." The fear that a "no" or a "decline" will be interpreted as something more than all it really is: a vote for oneself. But if the many (and often humorous) TikTok stories and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/reel/CnFXz_JoemF/?igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY=" target="_blank">Instagram posts</a> about saying "no" in exchange for self care; about the elation of canceled events; and even about women leaning more into their soft-feminine-get-somebody-else-to-do-it self are any indication of the fatigue many are feeling as the world demands more of our time and energy, setting boundaries is the one thing we all should be saying "yes" to in 2023. According to a 2021 <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/mind-matters-menninger/202111/the-power-saying-no#:~:text=Saying%20no%20can%20create%20more,the%20process%20a%20bit%20easier." target="_blank">article </a>in Psychology Today, saying "no" can even increase your self-esteem and build confidence because, let's face it, doing so can be both scary and uncomfortable. But the more you do it; the more you exercise that muscle of prioritizing you, the easier it becomes to advocate for yourself and, at the same time, make room for those things you really want to say "yes" to: those things that bring you authentic joy and that only need to be defined by you. As a wise person once said, if you want more time, freedom, and energy, start saying "no."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBt2a8lwdQqRm4EUAZITRj0JzgeMvfcv5OlVMBGi5VjTopdjNPe4bZv6Z5Z68_fnFatl8hyM7IL8TmjZ3XQD-7nxD731Cr3RR42VnpbLwzHRKOijxEKd-wZV2D3vdlzVSrImx75mk5pQiTZk6faOeDVhmJV9mW6i9luLkbLDflaYZUbZmPVUC-KV2Dqw/s1600/bubble%20bath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="1600" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBt2a8lwdQqRm4EUAZITRj0JzgeMvfcv5OlVMBGi5VjTopdjNPe4bZv6Z5Z68_fnFatl8hyM7IL8TmjZ3XQD-7nxD731Cr3RR42VnpbLwzHRKOijxEKd-wZV2D3vdlzVSrImx75mk5pQiTZk6faOeDVhmJV9mW6i9luLkbLDflaYZUbZmPVUC-KV2Dqw/s320/bubble%20bath.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>And parents, that means you too! Take a break from those parental demands, lock those bathroom doors, and indulge in your candlelight, wine sipping bubble baths for an hour. Or hit up those ax throwing breweries and cut up with the crew for a few. But, again, only if <i>you </i>want to ;-). After all, we can't be our best for anyone else until we're our best to ourselves first. In the unfortunate wake of premature health-related deaths and the increase of suicides, it is imperative that we prioritize and protect our mental health, learn the power of eliminating that which does not fulfill us, and intentionally lean into those things that do. As author Paulo Coelho stated, "When you say 'yes' to others, make sure you are not saying 'no' to yourself." Remember, self-care is giving the world the best of you, instead of what’s left of you (cr: Katie Reed). So, practice those "no's," good people. Eliminate the excess, and instead say "yes" to only those things that will replenish and restore you in the new year. <p></p><p>Happy New Year, Everyone! </p><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-20588960031281013262022-08-08T21:08:00.001-04:002022-08-08T21:08:58.472-04:00The Art of the Apology<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGdIVvpjV3pHDWMPZu1BvzlzUYHVnKtkvIEVGWWdnldZWm9kXJZdYV0o9o9dPKQ-oYwnm10uck9mLLxgzQsdEFuLfQXLYXcX8Of4pM0VTX60fRLaWSLME1bIXMmUQXJpU0SCb4NOZe0GwBkeJ--gGkYKx9gmivj7rya0F7MkqYyRLjFDOLg7grwEfqg/s612/sorry.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="612" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGdIVvpjV3pHDWMPZu1BvzlzUYHVnKtkvIEVGWWdnldZWm9kXJZdYV0o9o9dPKQ-oYwnm10uck9mLLxgzQsdEFuLfQXLYXcX8Of4pM0VTX60fRLaWSLME1bIXMmUQXJpU0SCb4NOZe0GwBkeJ--gGkYKx9gmivj7rya0F7MkqYyRLjFDOLg7grwEfqg/w373-h250/sorry.jpg" width="373" /></a></div>On a recent business trip, I was able to reconnect with one of my favorite colleagues and “wax poetic” on what seemed like everything except the business we were actually there for. Outside of family, she is probably the only person I can talk and laugh with for hours on end, and not notice time has passed thus making her an honorary “younger sister.” Because genuine spirits are often hard to find, I take time to enjoy those that are sent my way. So on the last night of the conference, we took in a final dinner and filled the evening with conversation that soon turned to the colorful topic of our relationships—be it with family, friends and, not surprisingly, loves. As expected, tales and laughter ensued along with a few “Girl bye's!” added for emphasis and several “Say what now's?” thrown in for good measure. That’s when she upped the story-time-ante with an anecdote about “the one who got away.” <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9g7DHJzq4BwR3mJgA5NWjSiUUk8B-Njr4DN58AaaCLtySKNHBAdYLmCk60ZgGvWR88_a4GLmbUJ9Pjut5R0uCd_CzWiNL4A9SldstrB9gshSp2eTiZ7CrLwrlNWV9Z395EJxy1SLnnVMXpjFG9ZaAvC6L4mVQCVCbgusZqpMPZBSpDAtDJBd1waNilg/s1405/IMG_1409.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1234" data-original-width="1405" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9g7DHJzq4BwR3mJgA5NWjSiUUk8B-Njr4DN58AaaCLtySKNHBAdYLmCk60ZgGvWR88_a4GLmbUJ9Pjut5R0uCd_CzWiNL4A9SldstrB9gshSp2eTiZ7CrLwrlNWV9Z395EJxy1SLnnVMXpjFG9ZaAvC6L4mVQCVCbgusZqpMPZBSpDAtDJBd1waNilg/s320/IMG_1409.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>With conference sessions officially over, time to kill, and plenty of food and drinks to devour, I was able to indulge in her account of their journey which, thanks to technology, was largely archived in Facebook messages. She highlighted how they began; the miscommunication that had gotten them off track; her belief that she’d been wronged; and concluded with the update that she’d seen him in recent years, but the reception was less than friendly. Being inquisitive by both nature (and degree 😉), I dug a bit deeper in trying to connect the dots—or rather—how the dots got <i>disconnected</i>. So, she handed me her phone and told me to have it. <p></p><p>I began to scroll, reading messages that weaved throughout their college years leading to adulthood punctuated by family deaths, the birth of children, and concluding in the last few years with their final run-in at an event of a mutual friend. I returned her phone to her and “lovingly” stated, “Girl, you were a whole -------!” Luckily thanks to our no-holds-barred style of communication, she seemingly took no offense but, instead, burst into laughter before genuinely asking, “You think so?” I stated, “Absolutely. You were NOT the victim in this story; HE was!” I’ll spare the details that brought me to my conclusion but, by the end of dinner, she shared genuine remorse regarding their detachment, which led us to the topic of if there was anything she should or needed to do. I simply stated, “Reach out and apologize for your part in the demise of the relationship. If nothing else, you’ll set yourself free and maybe him too.”</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsV8BoY45NHBFdrBoOC3eUJBmc1DhHXy0Y9SC9DHYcywoKhkDoAd_NRGaagVsJGVTCKh0ObTIthQwesLk51TeeRyXsm9rXLHAcWeFNcQCTXLibrxXYNktjnO5F8k0NsxuGoYYoENuifRf0ob9T_nOGS6qHagfA7hgs-bRObFv58U3EUqvVtl9OgkKFg/s612/texting.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsV8BoY45NHBFdrBoOC3eUJBmc1DhHXy0Y9SC9DHYcywoKhkDoAd_NRGaagVsJGVTCKh0ObTIthQwesLk51TeeRyXsm9rXLHAcWeFNcQCTXLibrxXYNktjnO5F8k0NsxuGoYYoENuifRf0ob9T_nOGS6qHagfA7hgs-bRObFv58U3EUqvVtl9OgkKFg/s320/texting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> And so, at that dinner table, with the evening sun beautifully setting on the verandah of the restaurant (and with a bit of “liquid courage” along with me rooting her on) she did…and he immediately responded—addressing her by the playful nickname he’d given her back in their college days—thanked her for her kind words and apology and, just like that, a friendship was renewed. And with both being single, it could not be denied that the possibility of more now existed in their space. At the end of the night, she stated that moment was the highlight of her entire trip (even wondering if that was the Divine reason she even came to the conference) and thanked me for helping her reconnect with a person she truly missed having in her life. I was happy to have helped a friend in such a meaningful way. However, I know I would not have been able to offer such advice if I had not begun to put this action more into practice in my own life. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMCp6giJD8CeD8F_TRDI0LbevN7HKMAHgWM35PNBQsvmMRbWPLVLJtEER1a9wUAYdohfBrCmFQ6DnpkJjIXpoRjHaflpfFSW8CgQF8ubsbYTz8R_0qMWuCCwvs9OsHGVBMp2xfTiKnF8vyCn4aYBQo73N_gOnzNDPFYilmseNI5os5RrQnHqYy1ntrQ/s3840/apology.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMCp6giJD8CeD8F_TRDI0LbevN7HKMAHgWM35PNBQsvmMRbWPLVLJtEER1a9wUAYdohfBrCmFQ6DnpkJjIXpoRjHaflpfFSW8CgQF8ubsbYTz8R_0qMWuCCwvs9OsHGVBMp2xfTiKnF8vyCn4aYBQo73N_gOnzNDPFYilmseNI5os5RrQnHqYy1ntrQ/s320/apology.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Let’s face it: apologies can be difficult. However, being human is also difficult, and so mistakes and missteps will occur whether perpetrated by us or occurring to us. Unfortunately, as perpetrator--whether intentional or not--we often times hold on to the belief that offering an apology highlights our flaws and makes us appear weak. At other times, we believe the apology lets the other person off the hook for their part in the transgression. And as a result, we'll often choose to wait for the infraction to be brought to our attention, at which time we may gaslight the other person by playing "clueless," thus diminishing or dismissing their pain; or we simply convince ourselves that because the issue wasn’t immediately raised--if at all--it obviously wasn’t "that bad."<div><p></p><p>However, what I’ve learned is that the true art of the apology is acting on that small, still voice that tells you to <i>give </i>the apology before it has to be <i>asked</i> for. It has been the most empowering and liberating behavior I’ve learned to embrace in recent years; that is, to grant that gift to a person without them having to seek it. Because truth is, most of us are in tune with our inner voice that tugs on our conscience and heart when we’ve done something or someone wrong; the growth is in acting on that inner voice without needing to be told you should. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRd6FmtrZeIcvBK7LueUd1wbEuz5Hj0ILevndPkhUpx4C3XkLNsiJQpjgjleDDP-OTb8S909OyvGUltgd82qq5o-0b8mhL5qhUQJVG-3mZZ4lDLZPwfPY02lmDSQVdcbcs0sq4m63GrQ8hOaszaQGEGWImRoDp4xhIP8bhI6x2qVzOdKd2DpLhniipdg/s1000/humanity.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="608" data-original-width="1000" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRd6FmtrZeIcvBK7LueUd1wbEuz5Hj0ILevndPkhUpx4C3XkLNsiJQpjgjleDDP-OTb8S909OyvGUltgd82qq5o-0b8mhL5qhUQJVG-3mZZ4lDLZPwfPY02lmDSQVdcbcs0sq4m63GrQ8hOaszaQGEGWImRoDp4xhIP8bhI6x2qVzOdKd2DpLhniipdg/w380-h232/humanity.jpeg" width="380" /></a></div>Fortunately, in putting this into practice, the Universe returned the example to me recently in the form of a coworker (surprisingly, an older, white gentleman) who apologized for not speaking to me in the break room weeks earlier. I barely remembered but also was totally unbothered by the incident in the hustle and bustle of work life (and in getting coffee), but I appreciated his humility and humanity. It was an opportunity for me to delightfully be on the receiving end of experiencing that which I’m practicing to more freely give. And it was a reminder that nothing is ever lost by giving an apology, even if the recipient genuinely states it isn't necessary. For what it most certainly does is give others an example of how to extend peace and grace to those who need it and, in turn, increase one's own.<p></p><p>Ironically, on the departure day of my business trip back home, I woke up with a tiny tug of regret in my own heart for addressing my friend’s past relationship actions in such a “colorful way” during dinner despite her laugher. As I waited for my Uber, I sent her a farewell text message along with an apology for my offensive language toward her. She responded that no apology was needed and that she in fact appreciated when folks kept it “all the way real” with her but thanked me for doing so anyway. It was a reminder that we not only should practice what we preach on these journeys to being our best selves, but that when we’ve reached a milestone in our growth, we have a responsibility to preach what we’ve practiced as well in hopes that it will inspire others to do the same. </p><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-4761109686179482052022-06-27T21:54:00.000-04:002022-06-27T21:54:40.480-04:00Roe v. Wade v. Kennedy<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK-uMg6XVJQqozbdVFguDEfz2aIBtjpvuI0KKIdtILB-_cewHrsZQe_kaUHaJMjJq3zo7GzR624d9B9dQOL0czl1TQ8VGeT2mCjASocRDjTp-tJiCcsEnjevkGdDd_u2Chu1G8wvMX3gtp94q5hH8Gzz2benah73T6zh1XWLkEkWi6p-2aN_0JGIOEA/s1000/choices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK-uMg6XVJQqozbdVFguDEfz2aIBtjpvuI0KKIdtILB-_cewHrsZQe_kaUHaJMjJq3zo7GzR624d9B9dQOL0czl1TQ8VGeT2mCjASocRDjTp-tJiCcsEnjevkGdDd_u2Chu1G8wvMX3gtp94q5hH8Gzz2benah73T6zh1XWLkEkWi6p-2aN_0JGIOEA/w320-h213/choices.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It’s been a while since I’ve engaged in the “reflection” aspect of my blog. Blame it on a lack of free time or an oversaturation of opinions on pressing topics in which I often share the same views. In other words, if somebody else has already said it—and said it well—I often don’t feel the need to add one more “amen” to the corner. However, the recent and stunning—though not unexpected—overturning of Roe v. Wade was my exception. With outrage that has been palpable, and commentaries both subjectively enlightening and at times infuriating, the “think pieces,” podcasts, and political commentaries have been in abundance. So, again, I wondered if my thoughts and feelings on the matter were possibly not needed, until I reconciled that I hold a unique—and possibly surprising to some—perspective on and connection to this historical event. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dg8TS8_dR_xL93V7QK4bQGbLBRbqZ1DrfT-8SoMcj1hPOBVvDYGuHXCrttjdZOdRu2zWnrcjuzGBwl53WDIz8uZJ8vlVmcpDnNIFN98KxZ52t8QhrShHtPkF51FcrS9os8e7O1pzxLu9KEMdWGvSD-v69lBeJb2MjT5Y0AP2A8SEsrj6uRKua07ycg/s3604/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3604" data-original-width="3604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dg8TS8_dR_xL93V7QK4bQGbLBRbqZ1DrfT-8SoMcj1hPOBVvDYGuHXCrttjdZOdRu2zWnrcjuzGBwl53WDIz8uZJ8vlVmcpDnNIFN98KxZ52t8QhrShHtPkF51FcrS9os8e7O1pzxLu9KEMdWGvSD-v69lBeJb2MjT5Y0AP2A8SEsrj6uRKua07ycg/s320/photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I was born in August of 1973—a mere seven months after the January 22, 1973 passage of the Supreme Court’s 7–2 decision in favor of “Jane Roe” (later identified as Norma McCorvey), declaring that women in the United States had a fundamental right to choose whether to have abortions without excessive government restriction and striking down Texas’s abortion ban as unconstitutional. Let’s be clear: many women have made this decision for themselves for years prior to Roe v. Wade albeit illegally, which often lead to dangerous and, most disturbingly, life-ending consequences. The law did not give them <i>permission </i>to make these decisions; it gave them the <i>freedom </i>to make these decisions and be medically, legally and, at times, financially supported in doing so, regardless of their individual choice and right for needing to or simply wanting to make this decision. However, what makes Roe v. Wade so personal to me, is that my mother was facing this very decision while carrying me. <p></p><p>A military wife and homemaker, and already mother of five, my mother was surprised by the news that she was pregnant (again) with me in the fall of 1972 (affectionally leading me to later be labeled the “oops child”). However, far more pressing than an unexpected pregnancy was that my mother was nearing the age of 40 in a few short months. Today, most folks wouldn’t scoff at someone starting a family at that age (even if still not being medically encouraged). Yet during those years, it was considered extremely high risk, compounded by the fact that my mother suffered from severe hypertension. As a result, the latter raised great concerns for her medical team regarding the impossibility of a successful pregnancy, stating that her placenta may not properly develop and/or separate from her uterus, thus depriving me of oxygen and leaving me severely mentally impaired. Because of this, her doctor—and without question in light of the then newly legalized abortion rights for women—presented my mother with this very option. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWhM75VF0E5uSilfugjtTjuN1llDYby2oCL0RQ5x3s2xgXhgPAgEytRBZtOGBidcqh6yp5sg-fBqEbb2h4E3G247M3ZVF3jR56MQ-LtHORpccGSOONoKJa7qka9tUAnHvLs7SC5go7E_bhkTkc0xmyjX17qpq7gXHLK28xN-GPr3wqzdu8wCbfsuH0g/s504/me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="504" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWhM75VF0E5uSilfugjtTjuN1llDYby2oCL0RQ5x3s2xgXhgPAgEytRBZtOGBidcqh6yp5sg-fBqEbb2h4E3G247M3ZVF3jR56MQ-LtHORpccGSOONoKJa7qka9tUAnHvLs7SC5go7E_bhkTkc0xmyjX17qpq7gXHLK28xN-GPr3wqzdu8wCbfsuH0g/s320/me.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me--the Miracle Baby</td></tr></tbody></table>Understandably, the news rocked my mother to her core and she was left, along with my father, to make a literal life-changing decision. However, being a highly religious woman from the South, my mother instead chose to rely on her faith that all would go well and decided to move forward with carrying me to full term--a decision her doctor vowed to support her through by sending her to a clinic that specialized in complicated pregnancies. As for my father, he also supported my mom’s decision and—in true fashion for anyone who knew him—casually stated to her, “Well, we’ve already been blessed with five healthy kids, so if this one is not, it’s ok.” Well, the fact that you’re reading this blog that I've written lets you know how things turned out. And although I’ve been fun lovingly called “crazy” by those who appreciate my humor, I think we can confidently say the proof has been in the "accomplishments pudding" to the contrary (wink). </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPA6BC7eGNG3Rx3xxqh-YrSZK3USQ7Zn-PAVzNpDZ1TMtpHP5H3bEPqV7TPkvRgMXwpZcXWSnLPDmmBvQs8EJTh2MpiS8XJLwosMiWpMn5xoD7NpKTzh2pDh0TvgVJJ_RCTVNbAK69YzTQ8JKBuniSQMB6XuXUTbRzNQ3kgi-FQnARst4SNjrV6KfFg/s640/parents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="393" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPA6BC7eGNG3Rx3xxqh-YrSZK3USQ7Zn-PAVzNpDZ1TMtpHP5H3bEPqV7TPkvRgMXwpZcXWSnLPDmmBvQs8EJTh2MpiS8XJLwosMiWpMn5xoD7NpKTzh2pDh0TvgVJJ_RCTVNbAK69YzTQ8JKBuniSQMB6XuXUTbRzNQ3kgi-FQnARst4SNjrV6KfFg/w246-h400/parents.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My loving parents. RIP.</td></tr></tbody></table>Throughout my mother’s life, she would recount this story to me on occasion and every time it would make me as emotional as it does now. Moreso because it demonstrated to me that my parents embodied an amount of faith that I am not ashamed to admit I do not (yet) have and—in a similar situation—cannot for certain say I would have been able to lean on in order to make the same decision. My parents would continue to demonstrate such levels of faith throughout our family’s history of tragedies and triumphs that would provide my siblings and I a blueprint to rely on in navigating our own trials and tribulations. So why am I sharing this story? Because despite these unbelievable demonstrations of faith and the blessing that occurred in the form of my miraculous birth and very existence, I remain Pro Choice—not just for me but for every woman who may need to make this decision for a myriad of reasons that should never have to be explained. </p><p>Although most would look at my mother’s decision as her being Pro Life, the irony is that being allowed to CHOOSE to be Pro Life is in itself Pro Choice. Am I grateful for my parent’s decision? Of course. But would I have been disappointed if they chose not to make that ultimate sacrifice just for me, and undoubtedly impact their own lives and those of my siblings? Of course not. How could I be when I would have had no existence or knowledge of a world with me in it? It is because of this reason that arguments “on behalf of the unborn fetus,” have always felt both audacious and flimsy, but I digress. Without a doubt, I am certain my mother made her choice because a life of “what if’s” would have been far harder for her to bear than any hardship of caring for me but, again, it was a choice she was allowed--and had full governmental rights--to make. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TyTW3VzM--zxj6hSkKNJ95tEVzU9cs3qrI4j1Er3DPvS48D92EOGBIwif6tMXkPrpD_l8sJ6Q2TCrnxZYrDqBjd_3i2b02FAbNtcjzJVsrYcKN7XQF9C_qdUl0mq_aom--fWXw3LB4dJipE_k-nmtxWopNBzmQN6R6VpByFONQErrZWaPBEaQtRVrA/s1195/quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="1195" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TyTW3VzM--zxj6hSkKNJ95tEVzU9cs3qrI4j1Er3DPvS48D92EOGBIwif6tMXkPrpD_l8sJ6Q2TCrnxZYrDqBjd_3i2b02FAbNtcjzJVsrYcKN7XQF9C_qdUl0mq_aom--fWXw3LB4dJipE_k-nmtxWopNBzmQN6R6VpByFONQErrZWaPBEaQtRVrA/w400-h191/quote.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Therefore, seeing this reversal of history has been nothing short of egregious, not only because of this country’s long-standing obsession with governing bodies—be it a woman’s or, most historically, people of color—but because the ramifications of this reversed decision will be catastrophic and the Pandora’s Box that has been opened, thus threatening human rights of every ilk will, without a shadow of a doubt, be called into question mostly under the guise of Christianity, backed by conservatism, yet fueled by greed and control. Spanish philosopher George Santayana once stated, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Sadly, as the recent 2022 Sundance Film Festival selection documentary, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRbquE2BAkQ" target="_blank">The Janes</a>,” so captivatingly explored, remembering the past is not the problem; forgetting we need to fight to keep from returning to it is. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXb5awLtDBGz0qUVRZQ-xuYyFJD-K0SqpvfMsxis9U47cZ5Kh6Tozd9i4ag7QpYqY3ipPJhjWoxJY5sGuV_bk5gmw8nCPhvq6M-3qiZi0GqPbOy6BEUNspdS_ikV41FEGULlR66wrf0UqhI5z8XwW25KeyhfPKFvuxpjBzw6fBk7KKbd1SavhbNJ7ag/s2560/protest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1707" data-original-width="2560" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXb5awLtDBGz0qUVRZQ-xuYyFJD-K0SqpvfMsxis9U47cZ5Kh6Tozd9i4ag7QpYqY3ipPJhjWoxJY5sGuV_bk5gmw8nCPhvq6M-3qiZi0GqPbOy6BEUNspdS_ikV41FEGULlR66wrf0UqhI5z8XwW25KeyhfPKFvuxpjBzw6fBk7KKbd1SavhbNJ7ag/s320/protest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unfortunately, the past is very much now our present. Yet the only sliver of hope is the truism that history always repeats itself—for better or for worse. Therefore, the same fight that was required leading up to the 1973 landmark decision is the same fight that must be reignited now. It is a fight we all must engage in because regardless of where your political, personal, or spiritual convictions fall on this debate of life versus death, what are someone else’s rights that lost today will be your rights that are lost tomorrow. What you choose may not be what I choose; what I choose may not be what you choose, but every choice should be left to the individual doing the choosing. And although this country has not always delivered on upholding those unalienable rights especially for those who often needed them the most, it in no way absolves us from relentlessly demanding these promises be fulfilled. That can never be a choice; that must always be mandatory. <p></p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-80397071529866562862022-02-01T11:36:00.003-05:002022-02-01T11:37:43.172-05:00Sundance Festival Debuts Several Must-See Black Films<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0ZKnlUuG_pmTaqZ5oRSe6hF_Ad1uMTq4Sp3lLlewazdLtsj7koMEZhtfbQbbLj47n_Og6gLNDd1zcELl5VeRVAR3IV7CLjq4tvf6c2AXxoI-5dtSnLjmfoUyu9s6tYgyHIe5i1XI2XJ_nEvUmq3r9ARsC90C67In3Z_sLn5fG56OiDr3mXm-o_MOsBw=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0ZKnlUuG_pmTaqZ5oRSe6hF_Ad1uMTq4Sp3lLlewazdLtsj7koMEZhtfbQbbLj47n_Og6gLNDd1zcELl5VeRVAR3IV7CLjq4tvf6c2AXxoI-5dtSnLjmfoUyu9s6tYgyHIe5i1XI2XJ_nEvUmq3r9ARsC90C67In3Z_sLn5fG56OiDr3mXm-o_MOsBw=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></div>As the COVID-19 pandemic continued to hold its grip on our return to normalcy, the Sundance Film Festival kept things moving forward by offering its attendees a virtual experience for the second year in row. Although a limited number of events were held in Park City, Utah, and at satellite theaters across the country, the switch from in-person to virtual did not cost the festival its greatest commodity: an array of quality films on the horizon. Therefore, in the spirit of Black History Month, make note of a few must-see films and documentaries about and by persons of color heading to your local theater or your favorite streaming platform soon. <p></p><p><span style="color: #04ff00;"><b>Emergency</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBXG6VaxnPlqDTrw3Q0dZS4kwi7kSqLOZv4akuIbIS9OcX828ztJV85kei6a_LaiHhtlCUOpsbspmiORi4XP5BE9XmAju5Icl0R4sj8YtS0yOwACJ6BaXQUZyRoI1QcB3ZVLhGtPcGCaqKNo4IYBIMr-Oij2C-6yxhGe161Ho2T92_AEHpGSV17zRGrQ=s2560" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBXG6VaxnPlqDTrw3Q0dZS4kwi7kSqLOZv4akuIbIS9OcX828ztJV85kei6a_LaiHhtlCUOpsbspmiORi4XP5BE9XmAju5Icl0R4sj8YtS0yOwACJ6BaXQUZyRoI1QcB3ZVLhGtPcGCaqKNo4IYBIMr-Oij2C-6yxhGe161Ho2T92_AEHpGSV17zRGrQ=w320-h180" width="320" /></a></div>I thought perhaps I was being a bit over-zealous when I selected Director Carey Williams' film "Emergency," as my festival kickoff pick, since it debuted at 11 p.m. on a Thursday night. I needn't have worried since the rollercoaster ride writer K.D. Dávila takes viewers on not only kept me wide awake, it also kept me on the edge of my seat. "Emergency" follows straight-A college student Kunle and his carefree best friend, Sean, as they plan for the most epic night of their lives by attempting to be the first Black students to complete their college's legendary end-of-semester, frat row, multi-parties stroll. However, their plans are suddenly and frighteningly interrupted when a quick pit stop home finds them discovering an unidentified white girl passed out on their living room floor. Faced with the decision of calling the police and possibly risking their own lives under such questionable circumstances, Kunle, Sean, and their Latino roommate, Carlos, must find a way to de-escalate the situation and save a life while not risking their own, simultaneously pitting the roommates--and their ideologies surrounding police brutality--against each other. Although leveraged by several comedic moments, the laughs will in no way allow viewers to avoid asking themselves that critically important question: "What would I do in this situation?" "Emergency" is slated for a spring release in theaters and on Amazon Prime. <p></p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">Descendant</span></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgipjbu-XNT8Wr4OA6hRrvY34kzAYwk2fwXNFiyS1jx0EBSk4SAbaN0lEXmRGStDGpqPwIy_Nv7EVf-NtiPGSKStYaSFsIJYSIRBjobfxGlggHKJZRNFHZMN1vFyy7yqptlHAhqVbKbHpIYRAoF8qwtvwo_h69dz0oRmQ55ZDK_BmkV4GLgd5Lv2Yymew=s2560" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgipjbu-XNT8Wr4OA6hRrvY34kzAYwk2fwXNFiyS1jx0EBSk4SAbaN0lEXmRGStDGpqPwIy_Nv7EVf-NtiPGSKStYaSFsIJYSIRBjobfxGlggHKJZRNFHZMN1vFyy7yqptlHAhqVbKbHpIYRAoF8qwtvwo_h69dz0oRmQ55ZDK_BmkV4GLgd5Lv2Yymew=s320" width="320" /></a></div>When I saw Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson and Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter of the legendary Roots hip hop band listed among the executive directors of the documentary, "Descendant," I was confident it would not disappoint, especially after viewing Questlove's much lauded 2021 Sundance debut, Summer of Soul. Directed by Margaret Brown, "Descendant" tells the story of the Clotilda--the last slave ship that illegally arrived off the coast of Mobile, Alabama in 1860--and its enslaved ancestors who mobilized after emancipation to form Africatown, which still exists today and remains populated by the ship's descendants. Although the ship was intentionally destroyed after its final voyage in an attempt to erase history, the desperate search for any pieces of the ship's remains are fueled by a community fighting against the threat of also being erased due to "industrialized racism" and their fight to keep their rich heritage and legacy alive. Of important note, after "Descendant" debuted, it was announced that it had been picked up for worldwide distribution by Netflix and Higher Ground, Barack and Michelle Obama’s production company. Now if that doesn't give it the stamp of approval, nothing will. Check it when it drops later this year. <p></p><p><b style="color: #04ff00;"><span style="color: #04ff00;">jeen-yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy</span></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOQuwf0XcG3GsXnpRRS2VGksiJeZkeHEepHb-ke1eDtk3vZCUMXfY_iXbmdaHJXElPJQKlHyfSB-5F0n2Im3GKt85Ckgi7Fr0wjx_1ZdSv1jHX_c9QxmLKSoQ-7qe6M5jXEMW8aw6lD6H1OtoibdHyNB5Wr6K2cH5GyC2hTUARwK1XuvGd3GflULCUFg=s2560" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjOQuwf0XcG3GsXnpRRS2VGksiJeZkeHEepHb-ke1eDtk3vZCUMXfY_iXbmdaHJXElPJQKlHyfSB-5F0n2Im3GKt85Ckgi7Fr0wjx_1ZdSv1jHX_c9QxmLKSoQ-7qe6M5jXEMW8aw6lD6H1OtoibdHyNB5Wr6K2cH5GyC2hTUARwK1XuvGd3GflULCUFg=s320" width="320" /></a></div>It's safe to say that the antics of Kanye West as of late have been akin to a trainwreck you can't look away from. Ironically, I couldn't look away from "jeen-yuhs" either, but for a completely different reason. Now make no mistake about it: Kanye is always going to Kanye, but it's something engaging about seeing young Kanye; southside of Chicago Kanye; producer-only Kanye, desperate to be a something more than a beats maker and even more desperate to convince those around him that he could be. The documentary, which was born one fateful night at Jermaine Dupri’s birthday party in 1998 when Clarence "Coodie" Simmons, a Chicago public access TV host, first interviewed the 21-year-old, follows West and his move from Chicago to New York City to land a record deal. Simmons decided to keep his camera rolling, and recorded West for years, highlighting the hustle of his now friend and budding producer through his rise to global icon. Although Sundance only debuted part 1 of the trilogy, which included scenes of a young Kanye pacing the Roc-A-Fella hallways playing any staffer who--often irritably--would pause from their duties to give his early version of "All Falls Down" a passive listen to the intimate conversations captured between Kanye and his mother, Donde, it was enough to make me look forward to parts 2 and 3 for a closer look at the man behind the music and often the mayhem."jeen-yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy" is set to debut on Netflix February 16th. <p></p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">We Need to Talk About Cosby</span></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLwoaE_py7eJwKfR0fHpT_mnn8D09YqsHzK96laDOWC_SR90sH3ILNgUk0Fn3ywZSOCcjccdeeS4z16bMdTPP3-MoqSYP75dHcvvWhhDq_UqRB1GxvV_kmuOwQpQgv7R6CvpqFfAb-85QVE60ba8-A096ma-k9WnmiwQRIlSOehUGG8GVRkcGS35zYCg=s2560" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2560" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLwoaE_py7eJwKfR0fHpT_mnn8D09YqsHzK96laDOWC_SR90sH3ILNgUk0Fn3ywZSOCcjccdeeS4z16bMdTPP3-MoqSYP75dHcvvWhhDq_UqRB1GxvV_kmuOwQpQgv7R6CvpqFfAb-85QVE60ba8-A096ma-k9WnmiwQRIlSOehUGG8GVRkcGS35zYCg=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Sigh. Actually, make that super heavy sigh. Before comedian and now director W. Kamau Bell's documentary of the fall of America's favorite TV dad--Bill Cosby--could hit the screen, the debates had begun regarding whether Bell should have embarked on this project at all, which many saw as a betrayal to the black community. However, just as Bell stated the loss of an icon was one that he struggled with personally, it quickly becomes evident that he was not alone and that "we" all needed to talk about this loss as a family. This is why--akin to Bell's relaxed yet quirky conversational approach to the hard-hitting subjects he features on his weekly CNN series, United Shades of America,--the documentary feels less like "trial by armchair jury" and more like that late-night conversation you have sitting around with family after Thanksgiving dinner, when everyone is too full and too tired to keep it anything less than real. With that, Bell digs into Cosby's nearly 50 years in show business as one of the most recognizable Black celebrities in America and what his work and actions say about America then and now. With commentary from such notable analysts as Jemele Hill, Dr. Marc Lamont Hill, Dr. Todd Boyd, fellow actors and long-time friends of Cosby, and, most importantly, several of Cosby's victims-turned-survivors, "We Need to Talk" urges us to reconsider not only what we know about Cosby but also about the culture that produced and celebrated him. The documentary which is currently airing on Showtime, is delivered in four, hour-long segments. <p></p><p>That's it; that's all for now, folks. As you trudge through these last few months of a more-brutal-than-expected winter, may these hot releases and the promise of those to come, keep you entertained until we're all back outside. Continue to stay safe!</p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p><div><br /></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-69446880420024322582021-12-27T19:08:00.003-05:002021-12-28T19:28:59.218-05:00The Insecure Finale: Was It Molly's Show All Along? - A Think Piece<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidGTLwlqrHzCADTqyuGkjJbf-ty0QsARReLwQXpAXI5lLt5-uYavt2mhh9n9w4OvUTfUcmQiUbCFa3Vv-M7oYyNYE79fy4-pf1a9L_smhK_8w6dPMOwi8lKkzHtHSom8EDDJ6MX63Nudu7_f4K6ouY7EbyA8_MDmN29ioxFS5T4bKEYdV_41hGeTWiMA=s400" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="400" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidGTLwlqrHzCADTqyuGkjJbf-ty0QsARReLwQXpAXI5lLt5-uYavt2mhh9n9w4OvUTfUcmQiUbCFa3Vv-M7oYyNYE79fy4-pf1a9L_smhK_8w6dPMOwi8lKkzHtHSom8EDDJ6MX63Nudu7_f4K6ouY7EbyA8_MDmN29ioxFS5T4bKEYdV_41hGeTWiMA=w385-h216" width="385" /></a></div>Of course I'm being facetious with the title of this blog post. Even those who haven't watched a single episode of Insecure are sure to have at least heard of its powerhouse, multi-hyphenated star and show creator, Issa Rae, who took her "The Mis-Adventures of Awkward Black Girl" (ABG) YouTube series in 2011 and parlayed it into a 30-minute sitcom and runaway hit over at HBO in 2016 that garnered upward of over a million viewers each of its five seasons. Although ABG dealt singularly with Rae's many, well, awkward adventures while navigating life as a twenty-something, single, African-American, Los Angelean, the HBO sitcom would partner her with a cast of characters as besties also on a similar journey in figuring out this thing called life.<div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLysM4yMzXV1WKEUB32gsf8liEGXdWXOMzWk85tl9hm_HjrnQCqpikB8MDIJrtiyfdN9833pvKa7xdNJXDudJU-OELlJOYgOnbMVsdvZ0reL5Lh_6I6T-BkfKELXOwQBqsM41xzjDI4RSXwkNKbw31G7mAerMbqFeZdYj4S-8g0HnYJrg36HzidJkC0A=s1200" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLysM4yMzXV1WKEUB32gsf8liEGXdWXOMzWk85tl9hm_HjrnQCqpikB8MDIJrtiyfdN9833pvKa7xdNJXDudJU-OELlJOYgOnbMVsdvZ0reL5Lh_6I6T-BkfKELXOwQBqsM41xzjDI4RSXwkNKbw31G7mAerMbqFeZdYj4S-8g0HnYJrg36HzidJkC0A=w301-h301" width="301" /></a></div>Enter Molly Carter, the sharp-dressed attorney/homegirl and ride-or-die friend that Issa's character would describe as someone "white people lovvveeddd and black people lovveddddd." Then there was Kellie Prenny, the sexually liberated, financier who would never enter or leave a room without dropping a (often inappropriate) quip that would leave everyone in stitches. And rounding out the crew was Tiffany DuBois, the conservative, boo'd-up-since-college, wife, publicist and AKA sorority sister to Molly. Mix this cast of characters with a sprinkle of the highs and lows of dating, job woes, family drama, a few freestyle raps, and you got the hit we've all come to know and love, and whose ending we now mourn. On Sunday night, Insecure dropped its equally anticipated yet dreaded series finale for those of us who saw ourselves as the fifth friend of this squad that we got together and "ki-ki'd" with each Sunday night. We wanted to know where they'd go from here? What we'd do without them? But most importantly, we wanted to know where--or make that who--Issa's character would ultimately end up with? <div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1giZoWpPOehbpNCuzUaDcZ44Y42-qJ49IPVk61gMu-_Jgq3lIQJsWpWYIfYOaabgIcMbDBbASQDRdnG7q2xv5Kiqe5expAGnGN4pSuLz1x5zAnSxVKlWpuPGR4RaJcufNeQfTikvi-0KYhJkXP3ky5uQK0Cph8c7YdwpmtoGLwa0kem6I0tbFF2pFYg=s583" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="329" data-original-width="583" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1giZoWpPOehbpNCuzUaDcZ44Y42-qJ49IPVk61gMu-_Jgq3lIQJsWpWYIfYOaabgIcMbDBbASQDRdnG7q2xv5Kiqe5expAGnGN4pSuLz1x5zAnSxVKlWpuPGR4RaJcufNeQfTikvi-0KYhJkXP3ky5uQK0Cph8c7YdwpmtoGLwa0kem6I0tbFF2pFYg=w378-h214" width="378" /></a></div>In season 1, episode 1, we found Rae's character lamenting a five-year relationship with boyfriend, Lawrence, that felt like it was going nowhere, in particular after he had lost his job, was attempting to create a new app and probably, unbeknownst to himself and Issa, was existing in a state of depression. Rae's character would also comment that four of those five years saw Lawrence <i>trying </i>to get himself together. After his dropping the ball on celebrating her birthday, leading Issa to hit up a nightclub with Molly and "coincidently" run into Issa's ex, Daniel, the series would take us on an additional five-year rollercoaster ride of breakups, makeups, side chicks, side dudes, baby mama drama, career changes, friendship fallouts and makeups, and even a shot in the eye (if you know, you know. LOL). Alliances were created in the form of the "Issa Hive" and the "Lawrence Hive," i.e., viewers taking sides on how both characters should navigate life without the other character. And all the while Molly, Kellie, and Tiffany would navigate equally--if not more challenging life obstacles--postpartum depression, the death of a parent--hell, even one character's <i>own </i>death (hey, you'd have to see it to understand), reinforcing how the uncertainties <i>of </i>life can often leave us feeling insecure about the choices we've made <i>in </i>life. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY77MzsbDKNLWV1nWcgJa9DWnkmD0MXBRj8fZ85yjSUS1vsJMFbjqEH_mwgPF0UT3G_nmBASp3lAUHyjj-W65TQud4m6074FMUQ5etyhxTiU0hGV7_DeOMiDGcv8_UFRSqcjhf4diwmE321Dm6ODdkPzeLpzuJaCwcSXrGpdQp9IsSyRSaMGgtFPBJQg=s840" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="840" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY77MzsbDKNLWV1nWcgJa9DWnkmD0MXBRj8fZ85yjSUS1vsJMFbjqEH_mwgPF0UT3G_nmBASp3lAUHyjj-W65TQud4m6074FMUQ5etyhxTiU0hGV7_DeOMiDGcv8_UFRSqcjhf4diwmE321Dm6ODdkPzeLpzuJaCwcSXrGpdQp9IsSyRSaMGgtFPBJQg=w366-h243" width="366" /></a></div>However, we trusted by the end of the series--as we often hope for ourselves--we'd see a glow-up for all of the characters that would make all of the lessons learned and hardships endured worth it. And in many ways Insecure hit its mark: Molly, after more failed relationships than we care to count, found herself at the altar with, as one viewer put it, her "economic equal" and law firm colleague (who she once saw as her nemesis), loving her safely and unconditionally like she always wanted and deserved. Kellie who, for as long as viewers can remember, rallied against the idea of parenthood, unexpectedly announced her pregnancy after a year-long relationship with a partner who, from the few words spoken and calming energy he exuded, let viewers know he just lets Kellie be Kellie, which is always what she needed. And Tiffany, who begrudgingly (and fearfully) moved with her husband and toddler to Denver in the middle of the final season was slowly finding her new stride all while being pregnant with a new life. And then there was Issa. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnFMhDbgK935YyD1HpzmuIOrR5iJOUrbMud-z6ow0lHvb8owPQGVugbeO5Y6M8j4EOUHd5jAOn07ggbZzpIrRRcs-mHdALdxRpCFGKYL-xzF_1PUR4JcR7uxEunze4pg9Iei8EWIng_PadXoWSC3_hVhADx2qr_lyFZzCGU7Ez9xsd9DIUizLrkkHkjw=s970" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="970" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnFMhDbgK935YyD1HpzmuIOrR5iJOUrbMud-z6ow0lHvb8owPQGVugbeO5Y6M8j4EOUHd5jAOn07ggbZzpIrRRcs-mHdALdxRpCFGKYL-xzF_1PUR4JcR7uxEunze4pg9Iei8EWIng_PadXoWSC3_hVhADx2qr_lyFZzCGU7Ez9xsd9DIUizLrkkHkjw=w367-h244" width="367" /></a></div>In all fairness, Issa's character experienced her share of life-changing pivots during the series as well--quitting her job at the "We Got Y'all" nonprofit, which assisted inner city youth, without having a real career path plan in place and taking a gig as an Uber driver and an apartment manager in the interim to make ends meet; embarking on relationships with a few promising suitors (who she ultimately sabotaged futures with); and stepping out on faith to throw her own neighborhood block party to showcase local talent. Ultimately, the latter, would lead her to her true passion in the last two seasons in the form of starting her own nonprofit--The Blocc--designed to help artists of color in L.A. find spaces and platforms to showcase their work. Even a huge blowout with Molly in season four, which threatened to end the friendship forever, found her more introspective and them closer than ever by the series end. Yet the proverbial cloud that hung over the series for five seasons was whether Issa and Lawrence would find their way back to each other. And, spoiler alert, they did. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMwjlops5WPE8HyHccEeB5Qf-sI5NWFT-49rc5BRYsdnwb2jp82P29jj4m_AIx4D1hKXq9sUA9K1O6DxLwQ_lmHJ4dmr3lLGWj-l4-j1PLZ8dLwST2goTenQp4cW4kTwmLiq5f9fPi-kHWIXfxZfuGF_t0G_UWSO08GQN3RRf7ZhStG3V2Dew8bW10GQ=s1260" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="840" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiMwjlops5WPE8HyHccEeB5Qf-sI5NWFT-49rc5BRYsdnwb2jp82P29jj4m_AIx4D1hKXq9sUA9K1O6DxLwQ_lmHJ4dmr3lLGWj-l4-j1PLZ8dLwST2goTenQp4cW4kTwmLiq5f9fPi-kHWIXfxZfuGF_t0G_UWSO08GQN3RRf7ZhStG3V2Dew8bW10GQ=w243-h365" width="243" /></a></div>Despite the history of cheating on both of their parts, ultimately leading Lawrence to a new relationship that would produce a son and Issa struggling to accept his new reality, the "love conquers all" adage reared its head and the closing scene showed Issa leaving her nonprofit's new brick-and-mortar office in L.A, cruising in her new Lexus to her new home, and opening the door to find Lawrence and his now pre-school aged son waiting with a cake to wish her a happy birthday. The sparkling diamond on Issa's left hand let viewers know without a word being uttered about it that the two were now engaged. Mic drop. Series end.<br /><br />Like most, I was filled with a mix of emotions: joy that each character seemed to have found their happy ending; sad that they'd no longer be there each week to provide us the much needed escapism from our own realities. Afterward, there was time spent on social media platforms enjoying the shared feelings and much-deserved praise for Issa and her writing team's ability to create storylines that engaged viewers across demographics (case and point, on the night the finale aired, I got calls from one of my sisters who is in her 60s as well as texts from my nephews who are in their 20s, all wanting to discuss the show's end and how they felt about the choices each character made).</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisdAKMpJ-OgBWJBxwKwgdBrsLsW75jIz25nLMORtE7vbrJWEqwwB_T8IKEt0lYcNFIBDJUE2Ev5z3Bl3XcZOOUL2ucDeVYl6OZRp5U516RAAFx2KZ0gfXYOUablb0OfRjon-694kceIY4f21i5K_D7M53M-A3A7ghdBmbnYIxG2Gq1-z3hvnJq652vMQ=s750" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="750" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisdAKMpJ-OgBWJBxwKwgdBrsLsW75jIz25nLMORtE7vbrJWEqwwB_T8IKEt0lYcNFIBDJUE2Ev5z3Bl3XcZOOUL2ucDeVYl6OZRp5U516RAAFx2KZ0gfXYOUablb0OfRjon-694kceIY4f21i5K_D7M53M-A3A7ghdBmbnYIxG2Gq1-z3hvnJq652vMQ=w361-h160" width="361" /></a></div>Then there was the group texts between friends sharing their thoughts on possible alternate endings, reminiscing on situations that got the characters to where they are, and creating imaginary futures for them beyond the show's end. I crawled into bed spent yet seemingly at peace, but--as a friend I spoke with later likened to a stomach bug--something was bothering me but I wasn't sure what it was. Then it hit me: Issa hadn't really grown as much as she was being credited with, making the celebration of her "happily ever after" a bit questionable. I immediately grabbed my phone and shared my "a ha" moment with a friend and she quickly replied that there was a reason she couldn't sleep either, and she wasn't sure why until I had possibly unearthed the reason: the return to Lawrence was a bit unrealistic and, as one person tweeted, somewhat irresponsible (as evidenced by the number of viewers contemplating calling ex's and getting that old thang back) leaving an unsatisfying taste in my mouth. </div><div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1OkbxdrjKZS5g8uGgEiSGOJIpLGPlL9mp46AdQCR97fZ9fRw8LDsH6C5YhGV_92xBElStbmLtkZ8wxQs3ZRDW2PKRzalE1JY2fk8Ya47guFmDPmjUoNxJAXXNyOUmAoMJxWWRoxBNYhmi3T0pSs4ojyHyZPZhg_kBWA-uF9rhpKARTXMvs12i13GIjg=s960" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1OkbxdrjKZS5g8uGgEiSGOJIpLGPlL9mp46AdQCR97fZ9fRw8LDsH6C5YhGV_92xBElStbmLtkZ8wxQs3ZRDW2PKRzalE1JY2fk8Ya47guFmDPmjUoNxJAXXNyOUmAoMJxWWRoxBNYhmi3T0pSs4ojyHyZPZhg_kBWA-uF9rhpKARTXMvs12i13GIjg=w370-h208" width="370" /></a></div>Now don't get me wrong: anyone that knows me knows I'm the biggest champion you can find for Black Love. But I'm also well aware how most women approach and process breakups, especially when the woman is the "breaker-uper." Issa set in motion the breakup with Lawrence in season 1. And although women are often labeled as being "emotional," when it comes to break-ups we're largely analytical, meaning we've turned that thing around in our heads a million times, back and forth, up and down, and running multiple scenarios of the aftermath before actually pulling the trigger. It's rarely done haphazardly nor with huge regret. Sadness? Of course. Regret, not often. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, there are exceptions to every rule but, it's for that reason that when women initiate break-ups, they often don't return to those relationships--ever--which makes Issa's being stuck in this regret for five years, even having it overshadow almost every decision she made, only to have her return, unthinkable. Unlike Molly et al., who used their failed relationships to propel them forward toward growth, Issa's relationship became a proverbial albatross around her neck that she was never able to unshackle herself from all the way to the final frame. And as my friend pointed out, a framing shot in which she didn't even appear authentically happy. In fact, it was a decision we felt was primarily motivated out of fear of letting her past life completely go and out of an angst of seeing everyone move on to their new lives quicker than she anticipated. Lawrence was always "home base"; a safe space she needed. And we all know when you're in need more than you're in want, your decision making can be greatly impaired. And that's when I realized this was Molly's show all along. </div><div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTbmxe60bPtP9lkqIZiD_gqulnA3-9jytzwbOOnKtfDkWjryI9x5QyeVs4YG6sRZzs8kxehdNoYjoqhBt6OXXvSSyoG3ZMwLB-bjKjxdL74XUgwL-VbW2-C3xQ24njbzW-4GV7_cs2OzlS2J8gwJqaH8hsjQrHEPeNWGVASSJ32pkclbrGXPXmLb29_A=s400" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTbmxe60bPtP9lkqIZiD_gqulnA3-9jytzwbOOnKtfDkWjryI9x5QyeVs4YG6sRZzs8kxehdNoYjoqhBt6OXXvSSyoG3ZMwLB-bjKjxdL74XUgwL-VbW2-C3xQ24njbzW-4GV7_cs2OzlS2J8gwJqaH8hsjQrHEPeNWGVASSJ32pkclbrGXPXmLb29_A=w364-h204" width="364" /></a></div>If fans are honest with themselves, that warm joy we felt as the credits rolled were really about Molly's story arc, not Issa's. When we first met Molly, she was overworked at her firm, holding her family together, maneuvering through multiple dating apps, and juggling hope and heartbreak like a champ. She tried on various relationships and, when they didn't quite fit, she wasn't afraid to move on and trust love again. We watched her challenge herself by dating outside of her race--a suggestion many African-American women have shunned in keeping hope alive for their IBM (ideal black man)--and when roadblocks would emerge in both her relationships and career, Molly ultimately did the bravest thing one can do: admit she might be her own biggest obstacle and got herself a black therapist to help her navigate this thing called life. In the end, she was thriving at an all-black-law firm (no longer shackled by the corporate myth that it has to be "white to be right"); had taken the reigns on securing her parents financial future in the nick of time (shoutout to Kelly with the assist); and had experienced enough self growth along the way to usher in the love of her life. Now THAT's a glow up and the personification of going from insecure to secure AF. Which is why Issa's constant back track to a relationship that never brought out the best in her felt like somewhat of a letdown. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqAYGCcEPdnTwtiVVK9pdVPGMD1oU40cNXUzAJloanZ0vvC7rTNIJ9fesFARue010M3Zn8JLeHeicyrPYY6yXKVr-SUpzxXmuS1Q0NbSigrmLX1ItTWH4R8gbLki363b2rurVODkcIEB9qS5Jlu8V37VrAYvvCD3vgw0AQPmymLcKc-d5wxgcuVZh9Jw=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1364" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqAYGCcEPdnTwtiVVK9pdVPGMD1oU40cNXUzAJloanZ0vvC7rTNIJ9fesFARue010M3Zn8JLeHeicyrPYY6yXKVr-SUpzxXmuS1Q0NbSigrmLX1ItTWH4R8gbLki363b2rurVODkcIEB9qS5Jlu8V37VrAYvvCD3vgw0AQPmymLcKc-d5wxgcuVZh9Jw=w237-h356" width="237" /></a></div>Ultimately, what Issa did was constantly change but not necessarily grow. And that became the greatest lesson we could've all taken from the ending of this series just as we prepare to exit one year and enter into the next. Do our new years resolutions, next moves, or future plans reflect areas that will promote growth or are we simply changing, be it jobs, relationships, area codes, or social circles? One of my favorite sayings is "wherever you go, there you are." If the change is not deep within; if we're not engaging in activities, behaviors, self-care, or relationships that promote growth from our core, then all we're doing is moving in circles, not really going anywhere or--perish the thought--returning to the old familiar when the going gets tough (a la Issa and Lawrence). </div><div><br /></div><div>Hell, perhaps their love story was true love after all and so their reconnection was kismet. But while we celebrate the now cultural icon that is Insecure and many laud Issa's character for finding her way back to Lawrence, I'm choosing to give Molly "all her things" for reminding us all that the greatest relationship you can ever have--even before finding true love--is the one you have with yourself, and that that discovery of self is most often found by having the courage to move forward and move forward boldly. As a wise person once said, "If you're scared to go, go scared." </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiR4RV3NEp_dyJJiXQFfvdtqK1rLL5GTCgn_bXKVMRlrcsw-rRo8PYah8Ed8fOdKzzyq7EneWQINVjZ6qST7o08BxolI4pbRkkpk_gnilSU-49GOQKxMiytUIvVlNzZNSArPEjWAM33kz6lCZCbMqZGmsNvBa9RfGY7SeWdlLjqLsU9Zql21NBNK2Xd7g=s376" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="376" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiR4RV3NEp_dyJJiXQFfvdtqK1rLL5GTCgn_bXKVMRlrcsw-rRo8PYah8Ed8fOdKzzyq7EneWQINVjZ6qST7o08BxolI4pbRkkpk_gnilSU-49GOQKxMiytUIvVlNzZNSArPEjWAM33kz6lCZCbMqZGmsNvBa9RfGY7SeWdlLjqLsU9Zql21NBNK2Xd7g=s320" width="320" /></a></div>And to the actresses--Issa, Yvonne, Natasha, and Amanda--who portrayed these characters courageously for five seasons and allowed us to see ourselves, celebrate ourselves, laugh at ourselves and, ultimately, forgive ourselves, you deserve it all. We don't know what we're going to do without you, but we're grateful for the reminder you gave us of what we <i>can </i>do with love, laughter, Black Girl Magic, and a little bit of help from our friends. Kudos, ladies, and Happy New Year to all of my Sistas! May the glow up be within your grasp.</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-11405484722668364372021-11-23T14:49:00.000-05:002021-11-23T14:49:08.105-05:00No Wealth Greater Than Health: A Thanksgiving Reminder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwaDk4HK5Jkyq2r2TsFjRYVtYLXK5J0jeYl8QnwcAGxsjsYNHrN9Lt3IPWnT_97OpJ2bd7sLBTFjHNKtjV7UA-ydpWJ2kGtcjawRS1PQ8iKzO2bOoa6Uuzo5YBs3fKYpGpBlbD_FJ_V_a/s284/red+cross.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="284" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwaDk4HK5Jkyq2r2TsFjRYVtYLXK5J0jeYl8QnwcAGxsjsYNHrN9Lt3IPWnT_97OpJ2bd7sLBTFjHNKtjV7UA-ydpWJ2kGtcjawRS1PQ8iKzO2bOoa6Uuzo5YBs3fKYpGpBlbD_FJ_V_a/w302-h188/red+cross.jpg" width="302" /></a></div>It is without question that the COVID-19 pandemic brought an amount of loss and grief that remains incomprehensible. Thus, as we enter the eve of another Thanksgiving, it's safe to say that what many will be most grateful for--as vaccinations allow us to safely gather with family and friends this year--is the opportunity to do just that: gather. Yet for the many that will have the opportunity to embrace loved ones, there will be just as many experiencing empty spaces at dinner tables; managing the void of familiar laughter in rooms; reflecting on the absence of warm embraces at front doors. Like a callous thief, the coronavirus indeed robbed so many of us of so much and, for those of us who experienced those losses personally, it was a painful reminder that there is no greater wealth on earth than your health. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildgO0lXpMSsRavn0Hl-I167iqPgFkgz3r3YmXzoW8E-6QdM8jm0irRauQk-WsagQSlRPqtvjGg0h7yzeKxCuq5Tnsq6QuQgnu4KuaSsBZHO0ymKLMFy6_vYy5YhT9_eNeR7eWLNinr5qi/s800/covid+19.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildgO0lXpMSsRavn0Hl-I167iqPgFkgz3r3YmXzoW8E-6QdM8jm0irRauQk-WsagQSlRPqtvjGg0h7yzeKxCuq5Tnsq6QuQgnu4KuaSsBZHO0ymKLMFy6_vYy5YhT9_eNeR7eWLNinr5qi/s320/covid+19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>For the many who contracted the virus, it was simply inevitable. As the virus came and grabbed hold of persons of all ages, races, and socioeconomic backgrounds, it showed itself as unforgiving, non-selective, and relentless. And with 5.15 million deaths worldwide (and unfortunately continuing), it remains a phenomenon unlike any we've seen in over a century, after the 1918 Spanish Flu, which claimed upward of 50 million lives. And much like the Spanish Flu, COVID-19 was a battle many just couldn't win. However, when it comes to managing health that is still within our control, the pandemic served as a wake-up call that we must be diligent in doing so not only for ourselves but for our loved ones as well. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfPb5fAJDflx4iOqlPsvPUnj729jochUsifUtZmHpXKfpK5RX9Wb-QJmomvhvWOhRV3i49t3U0Uel_3uni_eMGxWyNGvqXYh9Z2Tficc0xjGBceGVMnoykbWugWFLYhH4iibfz0S2dkxi/s450/praying+hands.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="450" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfPb5fAJDflx4iOqlPsvPUnj729jochUsifUtZmHpXKfpK5RX9Wb-QJmomvhvWOhRV3i49t3U0Uel_3uni_eMGxWyNGvqXYh9Z2Tficc0xjGBceGVMnoykbWugWFLYhH4iibfz0S2dkxi/s320/praying+hands.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I was personally reminded of this recently when a close family member was left in wait about a possible diagnosis that would have most definitely put their mortality in jeopardy. What was most interesting was how their possible diagnosis had also impacted everyone around them who was quietly fearing the worst yet praying for the best. The angst and worry was palpable; the wait felt like an eternity. Yet all praise to the Most High, the results revealed my loved one was in the clear. Thanks to early screening, they were able to get ahead of a diagnosis that continues to claim the lives of so many. Much like the fear that had overwhelmed us as a family, it was soon replaced by a joy that consumed us, lending itself to a gratitude that would make this Thanksgiving more special than it has been in a long time. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhun3ymRFbG1RroKqOwTUINvw6y-F6F4yMZ_joBR-BtDg1HuhrbMGKrpkIQh68gqwh-sMw3Szp627fbjKTQYOKxIysS42aRSaWk9tMDUw2PXyzVIAs0mOjaCDArRf-pRyqfUGMA63sDOkJW/s733/check+up.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="733" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhun3ymRFbG1RroKqOwTUINvw6y-F6F4yMZ_joBR-BtDg1HuhrbMGKrpkIQh68gqwh-sMw3Szp627fbjKTQYOKxIysS42aRSaWk9tMDUw2PXyzVIAs0mOjaCDArRf-pRyqfUGMA63sDOkJW/s320/check+up.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This is when I was reminded that our responsibility for managing our health is not just about us; it is about those that love us as well. For those of us blessed to have access to affordable healthcare, not taking advantage of pre-screenings, annual exams, and routine checkups is simply irresponsible--and dare I say--selfish. And for persons of color, not only should many of those screenings happen sooner than for others, but the impact of not doing so if often so much greater. For as many of us have seen, when a person's health is in jeopardy, it is often loved ones who will bare the brunt emotionally, in sacrificed time and, often, financially. In fact, according to the Centers for Disease Control, if everyone in the United States received recommended clinical preventive care, over 100,000 lives could be saved each year. That's 100,000 less heartbreaks, 100,000 less tears and, subsequently, 100,000 less loved ones laid to rest. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4Q9Q4yhjMTNV-Fp3DhnwfHLf4WqoLwPdD5KWzLKdHJMpA0hzqu7xz5oVINJ52btke-0nXK2-Jk6mvd7dFUKjfbT1IvigwB9xcBIZMxvcuiA8xjKt2P_WsADDxPtgVCa6sIv-xG23TvnC/s612/embrace.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4Q9Q4yhjMTNV-Fp3DhnwfHLf4WqoLwPdD5KWzLKdHJMpA0hzqu7xz5oVINJ52btke-0nXK2-Jk6mvd7dFUKjfbT1IvigwB9xcBIZMxvcuiA8xjKt2P_WsADDxPtgVCa6sIv-xG23TvnC/s320/embrace.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Yes, death is inevitable but premature death often remains preventable and the power is often in our very own hands.
So as we slowly begin to emerge from a most painful pandemic in which we didn't have much control, take this Thanksgiving to not only be grateful for your health and the health of loved ones who are still with us, but let us all commit to remaining diligent with our own health care not just for our sake but the sake of those who love us the most. </div><div><br /></div><div> Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!</div><div><br /></div><div>For a complete guide to annual health screenings by gender and age, click <a href="https://www.columbianps.org/healthy-life-blog/guide-to-annual-health-screenings-by-age/">here</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-14111715651171399462021-08-16T16:59:00.002-04:002021-08-16T17:01:49.529-04:00'Respect' for NextAct Cinema<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbrrP1BBKXZq5udVicRtgb6kx71YTGwnLp_ScQDYbXC9dduHXfMZvzGM61wVSzAO-UI3uuQJGkvoY_mvn9DIylPZHoLvbIVmNMGUjtlCMAqdsgJKmB3eig8KkvrsulpXEOrZgrEuJbBiB/s274/Cinema.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="274" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbrrP1BBKXZq5udVicRtgb6kx71YTGwnLp_ScQDYbXC9dduHXfMZvzGM61wVSzAO-UI3uuQJGkvoY_mvn9DIylPZHoLvbIVmNMGUjtlCMAqdsgJKmB3eig8KkvrsulpXEOrZgrEuJbBiB/w320-h215/Cinema.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Although a tad late, it was most likely an article I stumbled across recently that brought me to learn of NextAct Cinema--Maryland's only minority owned, independent, boutique-style movie theater. So, as this self-ordained cinephile prepared for the release of the highly-anticipated Aretha Franklin biopic, "Respect," I knew exactly where I wanted to be sitting to see it. Nestled northwest of Baltimore in the quaint suburb of Pikesville, NextAct opened its doors in March 2019 by brothers Anthony Fykes and Robert Wright, who wanted to elevate their love of cinema normally enjoyed in their at-home theatre room to a larger platform. That platform became a twin screen, 86-total-adjustable-leather-seat movie house complete with in-seat dining and an array of food menu options (in addition to the traditional movie fare of popcorn and candy) including crab cakes and personal pizzas to salads and quesadillas to soups and deli sandwiches courtesy of the adjoined Pike's Diner and Crab House. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tZ80zzZii76uuek6XbQG9L6OP-ugg2diTzOPe2c4XbxJaXVB_EsKs7N_-oAuc_homVbS7-hQZBsMezuJFBEpfkWF0Ey8mHkwFVVdUZUc78j4m7pfF6-fte6dxMxOufjmW3TTvKhl_uQr/s960/Next+Act+Interior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="960" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3tZ80zzZii76uuek6XbQG9L6OP-ugg2diTzOPe2c4XbxJaXVB_EsKs7N_-oAuc_homVbS7-hQZBsMezuJFBEpfkWF0Ey8mHkwFVVdUZUc78j4m7pfF6-fte6dxMxOufjmW3TTvKhl_uQr/s320/Next+Act+Interior.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>However, the brick and mortar that houses NextAct is not new to the cinematic landscape, as the building was once home to Pikes Theatre, which opened in 1938 and continued to show movies until closing in 1984 and transforming itself into a restaurant/catering business that also closed in 2004. Pikes reopened as a movie theater from 2013 to 2016 before closing its doors once again until Fykes and Wright brought their dream to reality and the rest, as they say, is <i>Black </i>history. <p></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzLSU3xfv3SkdCdFNO1Uo6L_ToJdP5GQ5_rLULHqv_K2C_HQQ5NiAQW0B70V9H6yyjXg9hzNVGXFP87_sqbhdbKqoFdRUs-tvM8X-6oyQVnCaA0mHaI3FuUi6dw_8rIwVv2XKc_OAxjRT/s720/owners.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzLSU3xfv3SkdCdFNO1Uo6L_ToJdP5GQ5_rLULHqv_K2C_HQQ5NiAQW0B70V9H6yyjXg9hzNVGXFP87_sqbhdbKqoFdRUs-tvM8X-6oyQVnCaA0mHaI3FuUi6dw_8rIwVv2XKc_OAxjRT/s320/owners.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Co-owners, Anthony Fykes and Robert Wright</i></td></tr></tbody></table>A Huffington Post <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/next-act-cinema-black-owned-maryland_n_5cb24651e4b0ffefe3b13fd5" target="_blank">article </a>on NextAct Cinema stated that according to the Motion Picture Association of America, "the number of frequent African-American moviegoers soared from 3.8 million in 2015 to 5.6 million in 2016. However, many black communities across the country are 'cinema deserts' and lack any movie theaters at all, much less any that are black-owned," thus making NextAct timely, relevant, and much needed. In fact, in a March 2020 Washington Post <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/a-rare-black-owned-maryland-movie-theater-celebrates-its-first-anniversary/2020/02/26/86601cd0-58e2-11ea-ab68-101ecfec2532_story.html" target="_blank">article</a>, Fykes stated, "There are only two other black-owned theaters that we know of. One is in Richmond and one is in Las Vegas." The Huffington Post article went on to state, "even though black-owned movie theaters are rare today, there is a long history of successful theaters that were catered to African-American patrons. Those theaters not only served as places for black people to watch movies but as communal spaces when they were being excluded." Because of this, it's no surprise that Fykes and Wright have also used their theater space for live jazz, happy hours, karaoke, comedy shows, and birthday parties as an effort to extend its reach and further engage the community. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQke32dNlEv0WBfUsYPA7TKHJ8dEY90_PQAK50PYu65OAm-r7_xidMdg9LqDQtVZaWC_soAwmIjOj4CiWDNSa2eLK7Mk-OjXNOWoFpbdR-bbt_mPcdp6ICFXdx09k8Xb87OHA_s28WZDw1/s640/Me+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="530" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQke32dNlEv0WBfUsYPA7TKHJ8dEY90_PQAK50PYu65OAm-r7_xidMdg9LqDQtVZaWC_soAwmIjOj4CiWDNSa2eLK7Mk-OjXNOWoFpbdR-bbt_mPcdp6ICFXdx09k8Xb87OHA_s28WZDw1/w166-h200/Me+.JPG" width="166" /></a></div>Therefore, as I comfortably settled into my seat, awaiting my turkey club sandwich and fries to be brought to me while engaging in small banter with other patrons who'd reserved a seat for the Saturday 1 p.m. showing of "Respect," it was not lost on me that I was there to see a movie about one who broke barriers and opened doors, in a theatre operated by two black men who are committed to doing the same. Whether on the screen, behind the camera or, in this case, behind the proverbial theater curtain, supporting NextAct Cinema was a wonderful reminder that there are many parts to play in moving minority entrepreneurship as well as the culture forward. Fykes and Wright have placed their names in the history books and called "action" on their own dreams, while serving as an inspiration to everyone who enters their theater doors with a dream of their own to do the same.<p></p><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>NextAct Cinema<br /></b><b>921 Reisterstown Road<br /></b><b>Pikesville, MD 21208<br /></b><b>www.nextactcinema.com</b></span></div><p><i>Sources: Black Enterprise; The Baltimore Sun; The Huffington Post</i></p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-66463297854855749262021-07-04T16:31:00.004-04:002021-07-12T21:32:54.009-04:00Happy Juneteenth...Again<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUC9yowKP2LQz0MsRgGqdzojT-o_rvicVJInOYHckGmkqJDD9jNWXtiVFhYsjQmnwB8ANbYIsnczlVnZXF6alT5Z9q37fPMlv4oqFp43Ha58V9C1tVlU-jBdDmdTtr4vrD5Llv2AYLlRm3/s612/quote.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUC9yowKP2LQz0MsRgGqdzojT-o_rvicVJInOYHckGmkqJDD9jNWXtiVFhYsjQmnwB8ANbYIsnczlVnZXF6alT5Z9q37fPMlv4oqFp43Ha58V9C1tVlU-jBdDmdTtr4vrD5Llv2AYLlRm3/s320/quote.jpg" /></a></div>One of my most beloved quotes is from the great late poet Dr. Maya Angelou who stated, “…when you know better, you do better.” It’s served as one of the most profound quotes I’ve held onto that has helped me give myself grace when learning from personal mistakes or, better termed, “life lessons.” Which is why on this Fourth of July/Independence Day, the question “Independence for who?” makes it so easy for me to replace waving flags, gawking at fireworks, and singing the National Anthem with sojourning on the couch and watching Ice Cube’s “Friday” trilogy for the umpteenth time. Don’t get me wrong, I—like most Americans despite ethnicity—reveled in all the pageantry and festivities of the holiday for years, which unofficially marks the peak of summer and the beginning of “cookout season.” But if the last year has reminded me of anything, from the health disparities underscored by the COVID-19 pandemic to the growing economic divide to the continuous yet unpunishable murders of men and women of color, is that this country still has a long way to go before it can authentically celebrate its passage of 1776’s Declaration of Independence, which was to guarantee life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and the promise of equality for all—although written while more than half a million black Americans were enslaved at the time of its signing. Le sigh. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAQBZ8nBQAiZcLqR0w81F33UACkFBeUEY-vrszzxSG1lR5Fyh4a4VCBPVG6u_ofReOgtBy3S_dz4ZkN2ib3rp8ZGQkml71R-wd4q00DHf7NzkDvBN2g7z-BpLV9ncdYHQEamdNEmCt4pY/s640/IMG_2528.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAQBZ8nBQAiZcLqR0w81F33UACkFBeUEY-vrszzxSG1lR5Fyh4a4VCBPVG6u_ofReOgtBy3S_dz4ZkN2ib3rp8ZGQkml71R-wd4q00DHf7NzkDvBN2g7z-BpLV9ncdYHQEamdNEmCt4pY/s320/IMG_2528.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This is why Juneteenth—a day commemorating the emancipation of African-American slaves on June 19, 1865 (yes, two whole years after President Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation issued on January 1, 1863 officially outlawed slavery in Texas and in all of the other states of the original Confederacy)—is so much more meaningful for me to celebrate. And why although President Joe Biden officially signed the day into law this year to be recognized as a federal holiday, makes no difference to me, since it was an honor for me in recent years to use my personal leave time to take the day off from work in reverence to. In fact, I actually have great reservation about Juneteenth becoming a federal holiday for fear the day may become like any other holiday for most and misappropriated for mattress sales and “ladies free before 6:19 p.m.” club promotions, but I digress. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITkDhsl6YRbsVqlTvTmIrImt1RNYiFjhi4zY2VelKxsx7H92-7BuBaLTOxxM9n-CedMGVGz-sFecmXTsLolo3LwUawjteWubYZ07ZIy9NpZ3hNjru3RBFPwNSOArPM4uUhImwn2_y7gWB/s640/IMG_2555.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiITkDhsl6YRbsVqlTvTmIrImt1RNYiFjhi4zY2VelKxsx7H92-7BuBaLTOxxM9n-CedMGVGz-sFecmXTsLolo3LwUawjteWubYZ07ZIy9NpZ3hNjru3RBFPwNSOArPM4uUhImwn2_y7gWB/s320/IMG_2555.JPG" /></a></div>Therefore, for that reason and before the possibility that the richness of Juneteenth is dismantled, I was ecstatic to commemorate the holiday this year with family at the historic Leimert Park with its two-day celebration of Black liberation designed to “educate, entertain and activate” through art, music, food, and performances. Spending that time intentionally with family and the extended family of “skinfolk” was the perfect reminder that regardless of our progress, we must continue to celebrate, and uphold one another and the many facets of our culture, if we are to continue to survive and thrive within a country that regularly reminds us that July 4, 1776 was and is just another day for us. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpe5r7g7OarsRQnwkASlHmkfz6V-81l2bzzzUmvopDLY7KtriTzHoRPEjTd2WsNlRDqen5nibEB2RmwTgYEOai9K352LHFAATspqA8ZdV1Qlux96x__SrygPLeZ6p403P34xZd-fuBoNH/s840/Frederick-Douglass.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="840" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpe5r7g7OarsRQnwkASlHmkfz6V-81l2bzzzUmvopDLY7KtriTzHoRPEjTd2WsNlRDqen5nibEB2RmwTgYEOai9K352LHFAATspqA8ZdV1Qlux96x__SrygPLeZ6p403P34xZd-fuBoNH/s320/Frederick-Douglass.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Thus, while I’d never turn down a good ol’ grilled hot dog or hamburger offered to me on this fourth day of the seventh month of the year, my inactivity is solidified with an excerpt from abolitionist and orator Frederick Douglass’ famed 1852 speech to the Rochester Ladies' Anti-Slavery Society, “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” in which he states, “…I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common….”<p></p><p>On that note, and to my African-American brothers and sisters, Happy Juneteenth…again.</p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>Sources: Wikipedia, Britannica</i></p><p><i>Angelou and Douglass Image/Photo Credits: N/A</i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-78847419865986863152021-07-01T22:50:00.017-04:002021-07-03T01:32:15.307-04:00Black Brilliance on the Big Screen<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXmneGHgvKWILX7SHIhyUqob8WMIcDmPIRqq9PclpOub3dw3dfwSmNoTWXkfIF0YvgvdCQLGBCStaHkAb4iT8NlJ_eADx0QWmHlLSfzjy6FfLGMo96_zcU-WIc1DHWgi9QOlO-xSi6PNU/s780/popcorn.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="780" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXmneGHgvKWILX7SHIhyUqob8WMIcDmPIRqq9PclpOub3dw3dfwSmNoTWXkfIF0YvgvdCQLGBCStaHkAb4iT8NlJ_eADx0QWmHlLSfzjy6FfLGMo96_zcU-WIc1DHWgi9QOlO-xSi6PNU/w320-h180/popcorn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>On a recent self-imposed sabbatical, I was able to (once fully vaccinated :-) travel and spend much-desired time with family to do a lot of the “joyful nothingness” that bonds us, from watching crime shows over a jumbo bag of potato chips to taking late night neighborhood strolls while trading “remember when…” stories. However, my family’s greatest bond is our love of cinema. So, incorporating a few trips to the movie theater into the itinerary was a must. Unfortunately, with the theater industry being one of the hardest hit during the pandemic, it was no surprise that my family and I were often the only moviegoers present, even with the world reopening and making its slow return to “normalcy.” Not surprising since the closing of movie houses helped streaming services reign supreme during a most unprecedented time in history. I personally missed the regular Friday night treks to a physical movie theater, smelling fresh popcorn wafting through the lobby, and being placed in the middle of the action courtesy of IMAX-sized screens and Dolby stereo sounds. Because of this, I am whole-heartedly committed to returning to the theaters despite the simplicity and accessibility streaming allowed us, for I’m wise enough to know joy is not always about ease, but often about a full experience. And the moviegoing experience is one I’m ready to embrace again. So, if you’re like me, enjoy this list of blockbusters coming to a big screen near you soon (even if they show up simultaneously on your streaming apps).<div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #04ff00;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyN8Rs8MHU5VR0qbb9v3nHLnlH3tFJj_qnvE2VR-m9pggmHIzaikDFI6L8xZKwxf2tiXRc3AODF0245Pnx7CW-TUK32gdunzLdd0Beqa28xJFy5uhUKc4CwjbHfdgql488fAHXVcOot6_/s273/zola.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyN8Rs8MHU5VR0qbb9v3nHLnlH3tFJj_qnvE2VR-m9pggmHIzaikDFI6L8xZKwxf2tiXRc3AODF0245Pnx7CW-TUK32gdunzLdd0Beqa28xJFy5uhUKc4CwjbHfdgql488fAHXVcOot6_/s0/zola.jpg" /></a></div>Zola – June 30th </b></span><p></p><p>When I first read the premise for the Janicza Bravo-directed "Zola," I recall having a déjà vu moment of “Why have I heard this story before?” It’s because I and million others had, courtesy of a viral 148 tweet-thread that A'ziah "Zola" Wells King had posted in 2015, recounting her tale as a waitress who meets a sex worker and embarks on a wild cross-country adventure. Almost everyone agreed it sounded like something out of a movie; it’s no doubt Bravo felt the same, prompting her to rush to her agent and manager for advice on next steps on how to make it so. And as they say, the rest is history. Or, better yet, the rest is one of the most anticipated movie drops of the year. Starring Taylour Paige (“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”) and Riley Keough (“The Lodge”), the noir dramedy follows Zola who meets sex worker Stefani at a restaurant where Zola works and where the two immediately bond, leading to an impromptu two-day cross-country road trip to Florida that finds the two of them, along with Stefani's lovesick boyfriend, caught in a tangled web of madness that involves strip clubs, seedy hotels, unwelcoming locals, and a pimp named "X." <span style="color: #ff00fe;">See trailer</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24KbaKlCDDI" target="_blank">here</a>. </p><p></p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5Ysi2uhVyIZ2DxGussibrI8xhku_JFDQ0IFJPIkYi7u4c24fgaF_iHL1BoZ7KZWMH4SEQspPbUQXYvHYxTgUxaTUyt789bTlt9QeZH3lIjtwr6rGJkSSp4D3_B4L91DWP9_nbwv4xhgZ/s275/summer.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw5Ysi2uhVyIZ2DxGussibrI8xhku_JFDQ0IFJPIkYi7u4c24fgaF_iHL1BoZ7KZWMH4SEQspPbUQXYvHYxTgUxaTUyt789bTlt9QeZH3lIjtwr6rGJkSSp4D3_B4L91DWP9_nbwv4xhgZ/s0/summer.jpg" /></a><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">Summer of Soul (Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised) – July 2nd </span></b><p></p><p>Some movies are just too powerful to not be seen on the big screen. Although streaming on Hulu as well, you’ll want the full concert experience of The Root’s Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson’s directorial debut, “Summer of Soul (Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised”). As the 2021 Sundance Film Festival moved to a virtual platform earlier this year, I had the pleasure of seeing the release on its opening night and it did not disappoint. As Thompson recounted in a recent Essence July/August 2021 issue, when producers David Dinerstein and Robert Fyvolent told him about archival footage they’d stumbled upon of a 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival that rivaled Woodstock and, in fact, took place mere months before over a period of six weeks, Thompson called B.S., stating there was no way such greatness had occurred that there would be no record of. Oh, there was record of it; sadly, it was all sitting in the basement of late filmmaker Hal Tulchin’s home, all but forgotten after his many attempts to shop it for distribution failed due to “lack of interest.” Thompson, reluctant of being handed such a treasure, hesitated to get involved with the project. But, after seeing a snippet of footage, knew bringing it to light would be one of his greatest callings. The roster of artists who appear in 'Soul' are too long to list and their performances too astounding to be captured in words. All I’ll say is this: the 117-minute concert documentary features a young Stevie Wonder—on drums. Thank me later. <span style="color: #ff00fe;">See trailer</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-siC9cugqA" target="_blank">here</a>.</p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHVq0NfVAiuc4nCXPCIOun8Z0WbFjnT2qG_5i0HJcWOt554bCQ5tjWiKV_tfKw1OlH6NgEqSIkQ5nWoKI1QnyoBLLLCr9d7uNrAWbq5qpS9LNnneQLw3EjQ-L7Ml8zNc-LgDM7k28KJe_/s273/respect.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMHVq0NfVAiuc4nCXPCIOun8Z0WbFjnT2qG_5i0HJcWOt554bCQ5tjWiKV_tfKw1OlH6NgEqSIkQ5nWoKI1QnyoBLLLCr9d7uNrAWbq5qpS9LNnneQLw3EjQ-L7Ml8zNc-LgDM7k28KJe_/s0/respect.jpg" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">Respect – August 13th </span></b><p></p><p>The Queen of Soul has been getting a lot of, well, respect the past year from Cynthia Erivo’s portrayal of the superstar in "Genius: Aretha" to the soon-to-be released biopic, “Respect” starring Academy and Grammy-award winner Jennifer Hudson (“Dreamgirls”) as Franklin; Academy-award winner Forest Whitaker (“Black Panther”) as Franklin’s father, C.L. and, in his first big screen dramatic role, Marlon Wayans (“White Chicks”) as Franklin’s first husband Ted White. Directed by Liesl Tommy, the movie's star power alone is guaranteed to make 'Respect' a winner, especially since the late Franklin herself endorsed Hudson to best portray her, but also because much of Franklin’s personal life remained somewhat of a mystery, leaving fans to use all the joy, hurt, and pain she delivered in her songs as the only tiny glimpse into her world. What Franklin never kept from her fans, however, was her soul. Neither does Hudson. And if Hudson’s tour de force performance in Dreamgirls is just a prequel to what we can expect her to deliver in 'Respect,' “ain’t no way” it won’t be a hit. <span style="color: #ff00fe;">See trailer</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTtxoz3OIlU" target="_blank">here</a>. </p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqaIF9cz1vu3m-qU-sZwtosXFdJaiqgfrSlQ08Rte9NAiJgv7Sz2k0TVY-Q6VEdYYfXEG6v4Vqe9M8l7AKiqFRZmFRIiRRgw8NhtNTdVYFrQQ_AKvtwdnh8aF_a8VlmTmS1SEZY4FzHJW/s283/candy.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="283" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqaIF9cz1vu3m-qU-sZwtosXFdJaiqgfrSlQ08Rte9NAiJgv7Sz2k0TVY-Q6VEdYYfXEG6v4Vqe9M8l7AKiqFRZmFRIiRRgw8NhtNTdVYFrQQ_AKvtwdnh8aF_a8VlmTmS1SEZY4FzHJW/s0/candy.jpg" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">Candyman – August 27th </span></b><p></p><p>You already know not to say it. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see it…. Let’s face it: the original 1992 Candyman (and its subsequent two follow-ups) didn’t, as the young folks would say, “give what it was supposed to have gave.” Sure, it gave us a fair share of jumpy moments but there’s a whole different fear factor level anticipated whenever Jordan Peele adds his name to a project. As the writer of this fourth installment, Peele and director Nia DaCosta's revamped version of Candyman merges morality and macabre as Chicago artist Anthony McCoy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, “Watchmen”; “Us”), now residing in the infamous, yet gentrified, Cabrini Green neighborhood, is told about the horrific history of Candyman and the Cabrini Green Towers. Looking to revitalize his flagging career, McCoy decides to incorporate the legend and images of his destruction into his artistry, unknowingly awakening Candyman and sending him on murderous new streak. We all know chanting Candyman’s name five times leads to doom. Here's hoping Peele’s offering, after several lackluster attempts, will revive the legend in a more "positive" way. Also starring Vanessa Estelle Williams (“Soul Food”) reprising her role in the original film. <span style="color: #ff00fe;">See trailer</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikDJlfuU758" target="_blank">here</a>. </p><p><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #04ff00;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSadSfozCtCAYXsmYbg7rEEUtchyphenhyphentz08zyUaFVgLhs9xBAyUd9ceZdhWoVWFX_PRdz5A7iTIJ1O7Pr8yOyCoCHkmjxM3hyphenhyphenugWnvgbIY0gvNkk7nTvHUnzHEN8BSDzPxTi3VRWiATgRb_t5/s755/harder.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="755" data-original-width="510" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSadSfozCtCAYXsmYbg7rEEUtchyphenhyphentz08zyUaFVgLhs9xBAyUd9ceZdhWoVWFX_PRdz5A7iTIJ1O7Pr8yOyCoCHkmjxM3hyphenhyphenugWnvgbIY0gvNkk7nTvHUnzHEN8BSDzPxTi3VRWiATgRb_t5/s320/harder.jpg" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="color: #04ff00;">The Harder They Fall - late 2021</span></b><p></p><p>Not since 1993’s Mario Van Peebles-directed “Posse” has a Black western been as highly anticipated as this year’s forthcoming "The Harder They Fall" directed by Jeymes Samuel, who co-wrote the screenplay with Boaz Yakin. 'Harder's" chamber is locked and loaded with the best in Black Hollywood including Jonathan Majors (“Lovecraft Country”), Idris Elba (“The Wire”; “Luther”), Zazie Beetz and LaKeith Stanfield (both of FX’s “Atlanta”), Delroy Lindo (“Da 5 Bloods”) and Regina King (“Watchmen”). Need I say more? Okay, if I must, here's a little bit of a plot drop to lasso you in: Major portrays real life African-American cowboy and former slave, Nat Love, who reassembles his former gang to seek revenge against the man who murdered his parents. Love’s real-life exploits have made him one of the most famous black heroes of the Old West. Saddle up and head to a theater near you.<i> Note: 'Harder' is scheduled for a Fall 2021 Netflix release but may be available in theaters as well.</i> <span style="color: #ff00fe;">See trailer</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFqj276vwBo" target="_blank">here</a>.</p><p>That’s it for now, my fellow cinephiles. May each of you continue to stay safe and return to indulging in those things that bring you joy! See you in the lobby after the movie….</p><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-62688813841417463602020-12-20T00:34:00.011-05:002021-05-18T21:40:12.183-04:00The Best in the Worst of Times<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQasQKjQZ79_Or_VUdOeYYuih6ITENrAGUOcYTESa9ey6VJ6uOlXXNwM16g2BqdKbfxGcMmpArX7EeD5YCxDvAVJnGZD_zjFc412tZWP9Apd0HMsf2JSs3C71RwjS_ApBeGTqOPBJdWlLa/s285/calm.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="285" data-original-width="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQasQKjQZ79_Or_VUdOeYYuih6ITENrAGUOcYTESa9ey6VJ6uOlXXNwM16g2BqdKbfxGcMmpArX7EeD5YCxDvAVJnGZD_zjFc412tZWP9Apd0HMsf2JSs3C71RwjS_ApBeGTqOPBJdWlLa/s0/calm.jpg" /></a></div>I don't believe there is a better way to sum up 2020 than with the opening of Charles Dickens' famed novel, "A Tale of Two Cities," which reads, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." Whether that best was simply a reprieve from a daily work commute or the worst being the loss of a loved one, it's safe to assume, at this conclusion of the year, we could all perform a soliloquy built on both of Dickens' sentiments with the "worst of times" reigning supreme. Because of this, I won't add a monologue. Instead, I've decided to close out the year reflecting on and sharing a brief list of those things that brought me joy, laughter, or generated deep thought during this time of great uncertainty. Hopefully, as you await the promise a new year brings, these "best of" recommendations will help turn any of your frowns upside down. <div><br /><div><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlBslcIdNiliks7rw8v-0L_qs7AqVPerBVY4vF1U_OmV6pXgMKvzphe_Salp7pd5Ddq1jt1YI3eYRy4js6wgoeKHOtkHjhadU8qVeQtjL8n792rXKFDKas9CoO_MLTxbA73FOsZTpHi8s/s2048/version.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1383" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlBslcIdNiliks7rw8v-0L_qs7AqVPerBVY4vF1U_OmV6pXgMKvzphe_Salp7pd5Ddq1jt1YI3eYRy4js6wgoeKHOtkHjhadU8qVeQtjL8n792rXKFDKas9CoO_MLTxbA73FOsZTpHi8s/s320/version.jpg" /></a></div><span style="color: #01ffff;"><b>Best Movie </b></span></u></div><div>With the amount of movies I've indulged in during quarantine, you'd think it would be difficult to identify a "best." It's isn't. But how did I make that determination? Simple: It was the first movie that would come to my mind whenever friends would ask me for a recommendation. That movie is none other than Radha Blank's "40 Year Old Version." The semi-autobiographical flick gives the nostalgic feel of Spike Lee's "She's Gotta Have It" (thanks to it being shot in black and white) and the artistry of Theodore Witcher's "Love Jones" (thanks to its writer-based premise, dope tracks, and nuanced love story). And it's hella funny too. Thanks to Blank's honest and raw portrayal of a down-on-her-luck playwright who feels the only way she can make her voice relevant again is to become a rapper at 40, "Version" made such an impact upon its release, that it took home the U.S. Dramatic Competition Directing Award at this year's Sundance Film Festival and has garnered praise from Los Angeles and New York Times' critics. Gen X'ers will enjoy this all-to-familiar fear of a pre-midlife crisis yet be inspired to blow the dust off any dreams they may have placed on their proverbial shelf. As an added bonus, be on the lookout for your fav hip hop artists who are cast as "regular folk." Available on Netflix. View trailer <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRpGNnaDzeE" target="_blank">here</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0VFcm7MI1KQHZf44JMMy_d3-DgaKe7sIU6p81Ggr8xBkVo5EcSm2zFpmC9CNQ8YbWVr3LeIcZiTR61xqxOplI4-yXcnQ4W-RbU4Olbq-wRNEGxzb8R-zoh7ksrlxFFy0WsOQH4OOksff/s273/trial.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="273" data-original-width="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP0VFcm7MI1KQHZf44JMMy_d3-DgaKe7sIU6p81Ggr8xBkVo5EcSm2zFpmC9CNQ8YbWVr3LeIcZiTR61xqxOplI4-yXcnQ4W-RbU4Olbq-wRNEGxzb8R-zoh7ksrlxFFy0WsOQH4OOksff/s0/trial.jpg" /></a></div><b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Best Documentary
</span></b></u></div><div>There was no shortage of Netflix offerings this year and the streaming service went above and beyond in the documentary genre from its now cult classic "Tiger King" to the rebirth of the 80s hit TV series, "Unsolved Mysteries." However, none of them left the emotional stain on my soul as "Trial 4." The eight-part crime docuseries directed by Rémy Burke tells the story of Sean K. Ellis, who was unjustly convicted as a teen for the 1993 killing of a Boston police officer. While Ellis fights for his freedom thanks to a courageous defense attorney who refused to be intimidated by "the powers that be," systemic racism and corruption in Boston's justice system, political arenas, and even churches is put on full display. For persons of color, these stories are not new, but this deep-dive, investigative look at the relentless collaborate efforts across four trials to keep Ellis incarcerated despite a lack of evidence is both astounding and heartbreaking, while his ultimate redemption is empowering. Available on Netflix. View trailer <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_X_WqC75Yc" target="_blank">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="color: #01ffff;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcANWJx2Gg11rb0uWJ4BkjfmOTSJ-6hAevnhGeUXoGaiu21tfk_BmpW2scLbOZQcvOQcyOZ3QrHL951e5iaAOKw5F164_ekYoJdQgJmk2zWc0NQj_SNFb-UZf_nBAI62JMiIEmuKZb5pHc/s1500/woke.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1069" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcANWJx2Gg11rb0uWJ4BkjfmOTSJ-6hAevnhGeUXoGaiu21tfk_BmpW2scLbOZQcvOQcyOZ3QrHL951e5iaAOKw5F164_ekYoJdQgJmk2zWc0NQj_SNFb-UZf_nBAI62JMiIEmuKZb5pHc/s320/woke.jpg" /></a></div>Best "TV" Series</span></b></div><div>It is often said you gotta laugh just to keep from crying. And when it came to the groundswell support this summer centered around justice reform due in part to protests over the murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd at the hands of the police, there was more than enough reason to shed tears upon tears. There was also more than enough reason for us to take a few minutes to breathe and recharge, and HuLu's "Woke" provided the perfect relief. Co-created by Keith Knight and Marshall Todd and starring Lamorne Morris, the series loosely based on Knight's own life, follows a Black cartoonist on the verge of mainstream success who prides himself on 'keeping it light' regarding topics of race until mistaken identity lands him--literally--in the hands of police and he's finally forced to confront his "blackness." Now that Knight is "awake," it's impossible for him to lookaway from the microaggressions and blatant acts of racism confronting him daily, thanks in part to the talking inanimate objects around him that he's suddenly now able to hear thanks to his "roughing up." As crazy as it may all sound, it works due in part to the diverse cast of characters including Knight's funny, polar opposite, black and white roommates; an editor friend at a Black-owned newspaper (played by SNL's Sasheer Zamata) who's been critical of Knight's past ambivalence; an unexpected love interest; and, of course, those inanimate objects--a pen, a trash can, and a 40 ounce--voiced by comedic greats such as Cedric the Entertainer and J.B. Smoove, all helping Knight navigate through his newfound "wokeness." The series' eight episodes are extremely short but nonetheless entertaining, and the series has already been renewed for a season 2. View trailer <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYt5HEabwvM" target="_blank">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSQcBfvxpxbC7_5wrtu8_IyMQsC2cZN1dUGZsEdoiMtMnmaSTlBo9knV_v5d9bMj5l8q3XQ95A_RKuGptNelhRpBxzk22vxP0Mnx6Cr3aZ6qOoXBAJ2aKZtHbLFy5xYGmnr1PZjO5ifbe/s1500/busta.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1500" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSQcBfvxpxbC7_5wrtu8_IyMQsC2cZN1dUGZsEdoiMtMnmaSTlBo9knV_v5d9bMj5l8q3XQ95A_RKuGptNelhRpBxzk22vxP0Mnx6Cr3aZ6qOoXBAJ2aKZtHbLFy5xYGmnr1PZjO5ifbe/w200-h200/busta.jpg" width="200" /></a></div></u></div><div><u><b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Best Album </span></b></u></div><div>When I was alerted that Nas' would be dropping a new album this year, I was certain this would be the "musical oasis" we needed that would give us a much needed reprieve from the chaos. While "King's Disease" wasn't horrible, it definitely wasn't "it" if you will (due to what I believe was a push for a more commercialistic approach). And just as I was prepared to return to the hip hop classics that always sustain us, boom, guess who stepped in the room: Busta Rhymes with Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God. Now if there was ever a way to use the devastation of 2020 as a marketing tool for an album, this was it! Whether Busta already had this album in the works and the Universe gave him the perfect platform to perch it on or if he was inspired by the chaos that soon became our norm, I'm not sure. All I know is it was both right on time and right <i>for </i>these times. This sequel to 1998’s E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front (which I kept on repeat back in the day) and his first studio album since 2012's Year of the Dragon, E.L.E 2 offers a variety of soon-to-be classic, base-heavy tracks and features guest appearances from a roster of musical icons including Kendrick Lamar and Mariah Carey to Q-Tip, Mary J. Blige, and Rakim with narration intervals from both Chris Rock and Minister Louis Farrakhan. We don't know how long this pandemic pandemonium is going to exist, but whether you're in these streets fighting for social justice or fighting for household supplies, be sure to rock out to Busta while you're at it. Available across all music platforms. </div><div><br /></div><div><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBkvF2sGr61f7GwdZck5cb9hIy0R3IS-_hxNyGKHO4MgaKpmdMkgAbARiyOicjIIKCod_wDUoL857cKR8NY2v0_f2tZ3TDYRsqzonkWLGdRZ3kKpjw5AAw6v-ZkZWqsMihinOLFRcF7VqV/s2048/secret+lives.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1292" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBkvF2sGr61f7GwdZck5cb9hIy0R3IS-_hxNyGKHO4MgaKpmdMkgAbARiyOicjIIKCod_wDUoL857cKR8NY2v0_f2tZ3TDYRsqzonkWLGdRZ3kKpjw5AAw6v-ZkZWqsMihinOLFRcF7VqV/s320/secret+lives.jpg" /></a></div><b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Best Book</span></b></u></div><div>There's nothing better than the assurance you get when one of your favorite writers whole-heartedly endorses another. That's how I felt when Damon Young from Very Smart Brothers and "What Won't Kill You Makes You Blacker" fame encouraged his supporters this summer to pre-order writer Deesha Philyaw's debut novel, "The Secret Lives of Church Ladies." If the title alone doesn't grab you, its collection of nine stories that explore the intersection of sexuality and Christianity through the lens of infidelity, casual sex, and same sex relationships will. With black women as the protagonists in each story, this finalist for the 2020 National Book Award for Fiction is an unapologetic, thought-provoking collection of short stories that capture the complexity and diversity of black women struggling to live authentically despite the religious strongholds that conflict with their desires. Grab a glass of sweet tea and enjoy. Available on audiobook, Kindle, and in paperback from Amazon <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Secret-Lives-Church-Ladies/dp/1949199738/ref=sr_1_1?crid=38I05OF101Z08&dchild=1&keywords=the+secret+lives+of+church+ladies+by+deesha+philyaw&qid=1608431511&sprefix=the+secret+lives%2Caps%2C604&sr=8-1" target="_blank">here</a>. <i>Blogger's Fun Fact: Upon receipt of the book, my plan to read one chapter before bed turned into me completing the entire novel by 3 a.m. Enjoy. </i></div><div><br /></div><div><u><br /></u></div><div><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67bZk-jeesKaJ3eNd2Rw74e9H8iznUrfng2_XDYQFfrCIPrJ-fMCEzvH3iEfDJNS5hi0YNm2HVI_eC7w7M5_IPhxQVKUP6n-RyfdZO2E9xjEkjO5XnqQ06zVn1aDgbivGoWCgCaw8euAj/s1126/wine.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1126" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67bZk-jeesKaJ3eNd2Rw74e9H8iznUrfng2_XDYQFfrCIPrJ-fMCEzvH3iEfDJNS5hi0YNm2HVI_eC7w7M5_IPhxQVKUP6n-RyfdZO2E9xjEkjO5XnqQ06zVn1aDgbivGoWCgCaw8euAj/s320/wine.jpg" /></a></div><b><span style="color: #01ffff;">Best New Discovery</span></b></u></div><div>Whether we want to admit it or not, 2020 probably found us all imbibing our favorite libations more than we normally would (or should). However, with nowhere to go and streaming offerings aplenty, we sat back and toasted to the weekends <i>and </i>sometimes weekdays alike. And when those moments called for a smooth red, everyone's favorite nephew Snoop Dogg delivered fo shizzle with Cali Red courtesy of his partnership with 19 Crimes wines. According to 19 Crimes, the Cali Red is considered "full and dense, with strong black & blue fruit notes from the Petite Sirah, complemented by bright red, slightly candied fruit from the Zinfandel...tied together by a darkly toasted oak." In other words, it's good. Let's face it: there's not much the D-O-double-G doesn't successfully have his hand in and this bold red is no exception. Cheers! For more information, check out <a href="https://www.19crimes.com/" target="_blank">19 Crimes</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><u><span style="color: #01ffff;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRexaPoAvtgFU5N_ma8TlftuSkihWTMrtHfSm_0YW39gCxXV1wm10-nJX2H3F4QvE2wft3Dp5ZnH1Bzkt_ab7IcRz3tX_rvtxriHCpwT2VGc-81SqrxefVWJOwf5Oqsqw_DEFMAIsQsVU8/s640/Keith.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="451" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRexaPoAvtgFU5N_ma8TlftuSkihWTMrtHfSm_0YW39gCxXV1wm10-nJX2H3F4QvE2wft3Dp5ZnH1Bzkt_ab7IcRz3tX_rvtxriHCpwT2VGc-81SqrxefVWJOwf5Oqsqw_DEFMAIsQsVU8/s320/Keith.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Best Virtual Experience</span></u></b></div><div>Apologies to all of my friends who lamented over the missed brunches, homecomings, and happy hours 2020 robbed them of. However, my greatest missed opportunity this year: live entertainment. As one of the things I love most, not being able to sit in a concert hall or jazz club and immerse myself in a live music experience was disappointing. However, thanks to the City Winery corporation's partnership with the Mandolin Concert Livestreaming Platform, music lovers were able to purchase tickets to real-time performances at a few of its seven locations. As artists ranging from Chante Moore to Keith Washington to Chrisette Michelle played to a limited in-person audience, viewers at home were able to sing--and chat--along with fellow fans for a close-to-the-real-thing experience. Of course, there's nothing like being front and center for a live performance but connect an HDMI cable to an HDTV, set the right lighting, and grab a glass of Cali Red, and you got yourself some "homemade" vibes. For more information on upcoming live and streaming shows from City Winery, click <a href="https://citywinery.com/" target="_blank">here</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dickens would continue his famed quote by writing "...it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” And, yes, 2020 has delivered on all of those fronts. However, as we anxiously await that "spring of hope," I wish all of you the best of whatever those good things are you've discovered this past year that will continue to sustain, uplift, and invigorate you until we can all safely meet again. Be blessed, happy holidays, and happy new year!</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></div></div>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-63023593277679284002020-09-04T23:43:00.003-04:002020-09-04T23:54:43.033-04:00A Tribute Fit for a King<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrrg7ej3EqxMU0jMwPZreL54i3kaoIYz5hFKhTdlPVT-gqs58XCEU1pDdQujvlurTeNTxN495gORfL8NygBpmUQa8UEliyvtZB2PgzpT3hkxRCTtnBEBYouYEqGQ-IfaupxzYNO-_U43j/s639/chad+profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrrg7ej3EqxMU0jMwPZreL54i3kaoIYz5hFKhTdlPVT-gqs58XCEU1pDdQujvlurTeNTxN495gORfL8NygBpmUQa8UEliyvtZB2PgzpT3hkxRCTtnBEBYouYEqGQ-IfaupxzYNO-_U43j/s320/chad+profile.jpg" /></a></div>One week has passed and the melancholy cloud I found myself under has yet to lift, although the world seems to have found a way to continue its rotation. News features and tribute specials have ceased; social media reflection posts have been replaced by satirical memes, blooper reels, and ever-present dance challenges. Verzuz battles have resumed and the never-ending call to vote has recommenced. Yet I'm stuck. Stuck in the painful disbelief that another one of our shining stars has left us. 2020 had already stolen so much--187,000 lives to date due to COVID-19; the continuous black and brown victims of police brutality whose names we continue to shout out less we forget; icons and civil rights heroes from Kobe Bryant to Andre Harrell to John Lewis--and now there was this: our King T'Challa, our Black Panther, our beloved Howard brother, Chadwick Boseman, had ascended at the young age of 43. And, again, it was simply all too much to bear.<p></p><p>So much so, I refused to believe it was just me that was still wrestling with such pensive sadness days later. It couldn't just be me who decided to shut the world out last weekend to just lie in bed and grieve or as writer Damon Young implored in a curt yet impactful <a href="https://verysmartbrothas.theroot.com/its-fine-to-just-cry-too-1844905085" target="_blank">essay</a>, to remove the need to "gotta do anything" else in this moment besides just cry. No, I couldn't be the only one re-watching Boseman's blockbuster movies and related interviews, or scrolling through photographs looking for any sign we all must have missed that revealed our black superhero was in the fight of his life battling stage 3 and, ultimately, stage 4 colon cancer, all the while expending his complete energy to bring us joy, inspiration, and hope. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqkPkGUEb5DfZS7qL9YKpXbnD7SMnfb8NMSe62BhAxT9uidCWYv_XNmd3NodoiDQtdxAsnq12aZXeAKjQSW0vKaQsXLUla0WlC_JK7ZH1GODsBqiUqKe4M9FmpLzib8sPgJBhaEHeGLUk/s1000/42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqkPkGUEb5DfZS7qL9YKpXbnD7SMnfb8NMSe62BhAxT9uidCWYv_XNmd3NodoiDQtdxAsnq12aZXeAKjQSW0vKaQsXLUla0WlC_JK7ZH1GODsBqiUqKe4M9FmpLzib8sPgJBhaEHeGLUk/s320/42.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Whether reminding graduates to "take the harder way" in his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIHZypMyQ2s" target="_blank">2018 commencement speech</a> at Howard University or in simply offering a sly yet empowering smirk standing at home plate to embody the fullness of the late great Jackie Robinson or commanding the full attention of a courtroom to portray the honorable Thurgood Marshall or, of course, delivering a tour de force performance as Marvel's Black Panther in both a leading movie role and within the Avengers franchise, it was no debating Chadwick Boseman was "The One."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENjV1nSkpQ0diWasTS5go6Sm8O5xNUxswHOs8IWrLeIapkObVd6pSSdwp4Px0uwnYtzNpziyhFWIZj3tIw2VIqLTjwymDo4ve8WZf4AtOaFCkpsWm2L9CjNFqhPq6ZNqI1Ut3M8t_CqD0/s840/thurgood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="840" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENjV1nSkpQ0diWasTS5go6Sm8O5xNUxswHOs8IWrLeIapkObVd6pSSdwp4Px0uwnYtzNpziyhFWIZj3tIw2VIqLTjwymDo4ve8WZf4AtOaFCkpsWm2L9CjNFqhPq6ZNqI1Ut3M8t_CqD0/s320/thurgood.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So, no, it could not just be me that felt this loss as greatly different, unshakable and, dare I say, unnecessary. That's when I reached out to a friend, whose reaction in a group chat the evening the devastating news of his passing broke, mirrored my own. "Is it just me...?" I asked. Her response read in part: "Nope, it's not. Still sad and took off from work last Monday to process this...still trying to figure out why I feel this way...is it the HU connection...the way he related to and spoke on the injustices that plagued us...his activism...his gentle spirit...his awesomeness in Black Panther...knowing there was so much more for him to do...?" I replied, "All of it." All. Of. It. And then some. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnXeBE7aTdjI37RVtz2IytG42VZDLITdJps63A0EF_t99wJ2EPQT0ueQvgQdckVQRyC4aXiQFX1xX6_enAvTDgLttPve6jymiiJohVhr61SLoU84NrUVEECFCOaFl4WKcPmb3GiS850oc/s640/comic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="428" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnXeBE7aTdjI37RVtz2IytG42VZDLITdJps63A0EF_t99wJ2EPQT0ueQvgQdckVQRyC4aXiQFX1xX6_enAvTDgLttPve6jymiiJohVhr61SLoU84NrUVEECFCOaFl4WKcPmb3GiS850oc/s320/comic.jpg" /></a></div>I was never a "comic book head" but, growing up, my bedroom was directly across from someone who was: my youngest brother, who cherished comic books so much, he ran to our local 7-11 on a regular basis with me in tow to snag latest releases and first editions, then ran back home to lie across his bed and read them, before storing them in his nightstand, pulling out his art pad, and recreating near perfect renderings of his favorite characters, demonstrating a natural gift in drawing that ironically was never pursued beyond his childhood past times. And so, while the Barbie collection had my full attention, I was keenly aware from watching the joy that engulfed my brother of the transformative power of comics and superheros and what that meant to other kids like him. So, it would be no surprise that this transformative power would be tenfold when brought to the masses on the big screen in Black Panther, highlighting black excellence and the beauty of the African diaspora while giving little black boys and girls (and the rest of us "big kids") the representation we never had but so desperately needed on the big screen. That an aspirational kid from Anderson, South Carolina, would not only set his life's course on a deliberate path to change how Hollywood saw us but would, as a result, change how the world saw us was nothing short of astounding. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_aM_-2NW7IuGvtcb59sFkuBb_0VRnHxBnv1kr35Y4ZPXpEKxiAlD38-XqOkfL1aEuZ4Ze4lZ6HeurauAe1GkLSmxTFiezo3A7Ofqt-uZl9oBi_JG7PBwqPZFHQBeMVbD2ILjmtbrtjby/s1600/BP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1127" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_aM_-2NW7IuGvtcb59sFkuBb_0VRnHxBnv1kr35Y4ZPXpEKxiAlD38-XqOkfL1aEuZ4Ze4lZ6HeurauAe1GkLSmxTFiezo3A7Ofqt-uZl9oBi_JG7PBwqPZFHQBeMVbD2ILjmtbrtjby/s320/BP.jpg" /></a></div>Therefore, it was comforting to know that although the world was returning to its "new normal," my continued sadness was justified, although I was sure it paled in comparison to those who knew him personally, and would continue to wrestle with this loss for weeks, months, maybe even years to come. So, I felt and still feel no rush in needing to push through my grief; yet, I was ready to try and make some sense of it so that I eventually could. And that's when I realized the ability to do so lies directly in understanding the very arc of almost every superhero story: that it starts with an every day person, serendipitously bestowed with supernatural strength that leads to a life of wielding goodwill and honor, that inspires and transforms, until it encounters that one villainous enemy that ushers them toward death. However, it is in what happens to the superhero next where the real magic is found: the rebirth. Be it in a person of a different gender, a different ethnicity, or a renewed storyline, the superhero never really dies: they simply transition and transform. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDT8FW8tsC2mz-CtThGxtlvMlKUW_XY7hLHhp5fYGvhZEObpyI1qrkdxYtK23VTE7QPAVW_zcpMXfmv6HaF5Osa96THYE_HykEKVS2XT6SiNENx2mfx4BA2LkFCTayB21jY9ELUzKApEx/s1280/howard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDT8FW8tsC2mz-CtThGxtlvMlKUW_XY7hLHhp5fYGvhZEObpyI1qrkdxYtK23VTE7QPAVW_zcpMXfmv6HaF5Osa96THYE_HykEKVS2XT6SiNENx2mfx4BA2LkFCTayB21jY9ELUzKApEx/s320/howard.jpg" /></a></div>I believe that is what Chadwick knew that allowed him to quietly face the reality of his mortality and what he hoped we would all come to embrace as well: that although he may have left us, he would be "reborn" and allowed to live on in every life he touched again and again and again. He would show up in little boys and girls who could now dream bigger than ever before; in men and women who would reflect on his tenacity and courage to push through their own personal hardships; in his fellow black actors and actresses who would be encouraged to always seek the roles that celebrate and uplift us first; in the graduates who he reminded on that hot summer day to "[find that] life purpose that crosses disciplines"; and in every child from that small town of Anderson, who would now beam with pride in knowing they come from a place where a legend was born. Actor Aldis Hodge once said, a superhero is simply someone who "represents<i> </i>hope, opportunity, and strength for everybody." If this is true, Chadwick Boseman was always a superhero. He never needed Hollywood for that; Hollywood needed him. And his legacy will live on in each and every person he inspired, as only superheros can. <p></p><p>Rest in peace, Brother Chadwick. Job well done. </p><p><i>Photo Credits: N/A</i></p>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-87108246950095997602020-07-30T18:29:00.003-04:002020-08-06T17:34:04.363-04:00Troubling the Waters: Remembering a Monumental Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkiU0BZhlAV96cYeMWRMDNN6VgUCBXH2krG44E9tUa91YdbihBwOQgUH9cU3sBovBTe3u7eX4jRTpgL0NHcIBBKEZUj03oemOnr74_QNdt7ktmJMmUF_lsTlTd3MGrqU60VwLdqXsRXch/s1600/John+Lewis.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkiU0BZhlAV96cYeMWRMDNN6VgUCBXH2krG44E9tUa91YdbihBwOQgUH9cU3sBovBTe3u7eX4jRTpgL0NHcIBBKEZUj03oemOnr74_QNdt7ktmJMmUF_lsTlTd3MGrqU60VwLdqXsRXch/s320/John+Lewis.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
When the news of the passing of the honorable Congressman John Robert Lewis began to trend and was subsequently officially announced on the evening of July 17th--ironically, mere hours after famed civil rights activist and friend Rev. C.T. Vivian would leave this earth as well--I was filled with an enormous amount of sorrow that was surprising even to me. After watching CNN's late night broadcast that evening, which would offer the first major media coverage of the loss of the great icon, the tears began to flow. And they would continue as I reached out to family to make sure they heard the news. And as I drifted off to sleep and awoke the next morning. They continued when scrolling pass quotes, memorials, and the now viral "Happy" dance <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CDCKV-YJN9l/?igshid=185umtvzrsvi" target="_blank">video </a>of him that was posted across social media platforms. They certainly continued when a horse-drawn carriage carried him one final time across the infamous Edmund Pettus bridge--both the backdrop of Selma's 1955 Bloody Sunday and concomitantly the footstool on which Congressman Lewis would cement his legacy. And the tears would undoubtedly continue as he would lie in repose and in state at the Georgia State Capitol and the U.S. Capitol, respectively, before fittingly and finally being eulogized in his representative state of Georgia at Ebenezer Baptist Church--the church of his own hero and mentor, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YLT-_EQlYsOsH0zXOYuSB4vva8rsbVXtMsfk47az0OTxWDgYxu8dUb-4zPruX5JOu6lCgBRUr0p-sowl8bs7NlygnYt68kJ9DnZwtKnmkl47RAuR3-rGr0LIW49onH_c_zXbUhKvXtwM/s1600/march.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1131" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YLT-_EQlYsOsH0zXOYuSB4vva8rsbVXtMsfk47az0OTxWDgYxu8dUb-4zPruX5JOu6lCgBRUr0p-sowl8bs7NlygnYt68kJ9DnZwtKnmkl47RAuR3-rGr0LIW49onH_c_zXbUhKvXtwM/s320/march.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
As the tears remained unceasing throughout the week, I texted a friend that I had grown sick of my own self at that point--an attempt to inject humor in a somber moment but also to try to reconcile why the loss of Congressman Lewis aside from its humanistic implications was hitting me so hard. I'd never met him personally like some friends were blessed to do; I missed witnessing him speak about the "good trouble" we all needed to get into although I was in attendance at the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington; and I never marched beside him although I prayed my footsteps at least traced his at some point during the times I did take to the streets of Washington in protest for the very ideals he'd fought for his entire life. But the sorrow remained palpable.<br />
<br />
In examining my feelings, I was forced to recall that the last time an icon's passing had impacted me so deeply was that of D.C.'s Godfather of Go-Go, Chuck Brown, which I <a href="https://rantsreviewsandreflections.blogspot.com/2012/05/remembering-godfather.html" target="_blank">blogged</a> about as well in 2012. At that time I was able to instantly and undeniably pinpoint the source of my sorrow: the tears for Chuck were equally being shed for a city us D.C. natives were no longer recognizing greatly due in part to gentrification. Losing Chuck was losing a giant, living, breathing symbol of the heartbeat of our youth that would forever tie us to our native city even when many of us had long moved away. And in losing Chuck and thus that connection, it gave us trepidation about a new D.C. that was emerging where we weren't certain we would be embraced let alone included. And that's when I was more clearly able to understand the relative pain in losing the great Congressman: because his passing, too, symbolizes a country were we aren't certain we'll ever be embraced and were we are continuously fighting to be included. In losing Lewis, there was fear draped in sadness that we were not only losing a great man, but were also losing our compass, our consciousness, and our last living "civil rights caretaker."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-ffrRxlkXLaZnxIkF1wdVFDHu2xkGfeEH9F45TWvkZPDtJa1YxLr70Y84rR4c47fck44fEcDYImgLw0XMi8-VYHvsYE-1QBydRD22uqhT_AoW6vLb-QQH1H2Iy6QVIjMI7mOQOfR84ta/s1600/voting.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1200" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2-ffrRxlkXLaZnxIkF1wdVFDHu2xkGfeEH9F45TWvkZPDtJa1YxLr70Y84rR4c47fck44fEcDYImgLw0XMi8-VYHvsYE-1QBydRD22uqhT_AoW6vLb-QQH1H2Iy6QVIjMI7mOQOfR84ta/s320/voting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On the night of his passing, I recall struggling to convey to my sister that I was so pained at the thought that after 65 years of <i>literal </i>blood, sweat, and tears that would start as a dream in the heart of a 15-year-old boy from Troy, Alabama and ultimately lead him to a 34-year tenure in Congress, that Lewis may have left this world brokenhearted at the state where it currently finds itself; where the renewing of the Voting Rights Act hangs in the balance; where black and brown bodies continue to be destroyed and discarded before our eyes at the hands of law enforcement; and where social determinants put minority groups at greater risk of contracting and dying from COVID-19 than any other group.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8c3q7LiM_Xn9zd54Y0d47SvtydIlLwsJteOfA6bwjgA148RseDHB2w-ZGEQeN0gIS18j2Av_6WDToZ1Ucx7KI3YDz_H9DbEFsvRQ59YlwsoLzwFpiTOcuBP8n7yVzXlPrEN4A3QSrlkd/s1600/blm.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8c3q7LiM_Xn9zd54Y0d47SvtydIlLwsJteOfA6bwjgA148RseDHB2w-ZGEQeN0gIS18j2Av_6WDToZ1Ucx7KI3YDz_H9DbEFsvRQ59YlwsoLzwFpiTOcuBP8n7yVzXlPrEN4A3QSrlkd/s320/blm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
To have lived the ultimate purpose-driven life that Congressman Lewis did, yet to leave this world behind with resolutions to so many of our social ills continuing to be at stake, was too much for my soul to bear. Gratefully, I would be comforted in the coming days hearing from those that knew Congressman Lewis best that he was not only pleased with the work of the Black Lives Matter movement and the social activism that continues to grow from it but had taken comfort in believing the torch had been successfully passed. And I also found relief in hearing that Congressman Lewis never expected to solve or see a resolution to all of the "trouble" he dedicated his life to eradicating, but that instead he was wise and hopeful enough to know that as long as we're on this earth, there would be wrongs to right; that the fight for freedom is both continuous and renewed with each generation; and that--as former President Barack Obama reminded everyone during Congressman Lewis' homegoing service--we don't have to do everything he did; just do something!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84xxU3weI3ho3vUBHhFu-Q1KbYDOLr39xgLmOL4bZT6SHfdKil-5S8Ek92sEzeuWKs7gvgpaOZmEPx8Eks81KCrq9HhgZqXOGnGMmhSVAoyJq7kfI_JAJjzO-sbTY55mlyZAGU-TNxJpz/s1600/john.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84xxU3weI3ho3vUBHhFu-Q1KbYDOLr39xgLmOL4bZT6SHfdKil-5S8Ek92sEzeuWKs7gvgpaOZmEPx8Eks81KCrq9HhgZqXOGnGMmhSVAoyJq7kfI_JAJjzO-sbTY55mlyZAGU-TNxJpz/s320/john.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
That first something for me is to finally dry my tears and turn the sadness to gratefulness to live in a time where I was able to witness principled men like Lewis and Vivian and Lowery, and women like Waters and Jackson-Lee and Bottoms, and so many countless others past and present, who led and continue to light that path toward liberty and justice for all. The second something is to remain hopeful and continue to find that "good trouble" John Lewis beckoned us all to get into by working toward change at every level whether its voting, marching in protest, or holding our elected officials accountable to make good on the promises on which this country was built. And the third something is, as Lewis himself would personally write in his farewell words to us all, "to let the spirit of peace and the power of everlasting love be your guide." Message received, dear John. Rest well, and may your good and faithful service be rewarded on high and forever held in sweet remembrance.<br />
<br />
<i>Photo and Video Credits N/A</i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-62111184041579934412020-06-01T12:13:00.000-04:002020-06-11T00:26:13.283-04:00The High Price of Cheap Talk<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-f_kUzRP9rKDP99kcU6JYQsT3SXyvnrBO0EqpiXO4k8YGmnMp5EqaBJVjoo2ki7wmHOMt7JF5bHDm8DRGJHvOlvoSm4j8e47XyMYYp4U1AqimMcxR6SHgJcm6Ihi1hounIxREcATi4_N/s1600/tired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="420" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-f_kUzRP9rKDP99kcU6JYQsT3SXyvnrBO0EqpiXO4k8YGmnMp5EqaBJVjoo2ki7wmHOMt7JF5bHDm8DRGJHvOlvoSm4j8e47XyMYYp4U1AqimMcxR6SHgJcm6Ihi1hounIxREcATi4_N/s320/tired.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It has been a long 90 days. Period. So much so, one blog post is not enough to express the mind-numbing thoughts and feelings that have consumed me from the healthcare disparities highlighted by the disproportionate number of Coronavirus cases that more readily plagued and caused the death of black and brown persons to the systemic racism that continues to manifest in the form of police brutality (read: murder). It's safe to say our souls, bodies, and minds are tired. Tired of the loss. Tired of the cycle. Tired of the broken promises. But mostly, tired of the empty rhetoric. Tired, in other words, of the cheap talk we are constantly being fed either by law enforcement agencies and leadership figures across our local, state, and national governments. Cheap talk that has resulted in the high cost of lost lives and lost hope that has again resulted in the rallying cry for change.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhMmeObB76C7pUz3ULnBfI4S2QSwTzUE27RmMtFOVPTxJihzF9osrOx8Ncn-bUc9UREWx2tOXanxdhXSw9yZ3mfLsxY-whNhJ1CO8jmMhaQ8UdpWeJZ1_6eUvnGEZTX8Ln2OKGQtl1PU22/s1600/trio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhMmeObB76C7pUz3ULnBfI4S2QSwTzUE27RmMtFOVPTxJihzF9osrOx8Ncn-bUc9UREWx2tOXanxdhXSw9yZ3mfLsxY-whNhJ1CO8jmMhaQ8UdpWeJZ1_6eUvnGEZTX8Ln2OKGQtl1PU22/s320/trio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. most famously stated, "A riot is the language of the unheard." And so the "shared language" that is being "spoken" in over 27 states across 33 cities, particularly in response to law enforcement's murder of George Floyd in Minnesota and Breonna Taylor in Kentucky and of white supremacists' murder of Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia, is not surprising nor new. What also is not new is the endless hours of news coverage where talking heads and politicians pontificate and postulate about what needs to be done for change and equality to be both effective and lasting. I repeat: What NEEDS to be done; not what is BEING done. It is a simple shift is verbiage that while slight is what is needed to make all the difference in the world--literally and figuratively.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtLOQv0eeB-8M85qGOyGSXHowKZpE75oHc4beAWj6UvwD8zhBn3GvPWsSc0peX2GASyUQ4aVESr166dj9Vfq9kYAgIMotANBXGeMT-p5mrRFvF4uNfrZwVmdE87GfQaL2KrzEf3Db8RxD/s1600/pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAtLOQv0eeB-8M85qGOyGSXHowKZpE75oHc4beAWj6UvwD8zhBn3GvPWsSc0peX2GASyUQ4aVESr166dj9Vfq9kYAgIMotANBXGeMT-p5mrRFvF4uNfrZwVmdE87GfQaL2KrzEf3Db8RxD/s320/pool.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This message was driven home more profoundly for me during a recent devotional reading from John 5:1-8 when Jesus encountered the invalid man by the pool Bethesda. The disabled man had sat alongside the pool 38 years unable to be healed because no one had helped him into the healing water when it was stirred. He stated, "While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me." Now for those who've read the story, you know how it ends: Jesus commands the man to get up, and pick up his mat and walk and, so, the man does. However, what was most notable about the passage to me was that before Jesus performed His miracle (one of many He had already demonstrated, and could and would do again), He first asks the man a simple yet seemingly obvious question: "Do you want to get well?" Now, it goes without saying, Jesus did not need the man's permission or assistance to conduct this miracle but His inquiry suggested something more: Jesus was curious as to this man's true desire for change that would be needed to accompany his new walk. After all, he had remained in his physically disabled state for 38 years. Surely someone at some point could have assisted him into the pool, no? Or had he simply gotten used to lamenting about his condition instead?<br />
<br />
And herein lies the complexity in the collective fight for social justice that leadership must honestly ask itself: Do we, as a country, truly want to get well? There is no debating that since the inception of slavery in this country, the United Stated has profited off of the disenfranchisement of others, and there is still great profit being gained today. And so the systems that many leaders complain about are the same systems keeping those leaders gainfully employed and repeatedly elected--and that, sadly, is not exclusive to non-minorities in leadership (as is said, "not all skinfolk are kinfolk"). It is past time leadership confronts and rectifies this inner conflict with itself, but black and brown America is done with cheap talk. And so in the meantime we must continue to make our demands known and move, whether it's taking to street in protest, joining a organization for social change, donating to a <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-news/george-floyd-protests-bail-funds-police-brutality-black-lives-matter-1008259/" target="_blank">bail fund</a>, contributing directly to those organizations that are already in the fight for equality, or even registering people to vote. There has been more than enough time given to leadership for <i>talking </i>about what needs to be done; there needs to be more <i>doing </i>that starts right now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16kP2CO8nnzjjC16Gr5lbdEYkVAAiHz6GbJvVz4vP7TW6r9xfB3hqHRg8PIWFbOTJ98TO9VBNcQWZFw2zCrRNwN9N_9lnPqA6Lf9xGNBIVPizF237bUYLwuTwqeizYpAo3OJfW4LWsrLm/s1600/swanson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16kP2CO8nnzjjC16Gr5lbdEYkVAAiHz6GbJvVz4vP7TW6r9xfB3hqHRg8PIWFbOTJ98TO9VBNcQWZFw2zCrRNwN9N_9lnPqA6Lf9xGNBIVPizF237bUYLwuTwqeizYpAo3OJfW4LWsrLm/s320/swanson.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Relatively, a <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CA2tpSOBT9p/?igshid=107x4ddahac4j" target="_blank">video </a>went viral over the weekend of Genesee County Sheriff Christopher Swanson who did just that. Addressing a group of protesters in Flint Township on Saturday, Sheriff Swanson assured the group his officers were there only to protect their right to peacefully protest and that his officers were putting down their batons and helmets in solidarity. It was at that moment that the crowd held the officer to a higher level of accountability and began chanting for him to "walk with us." Sheriff Swanson briefly paused, considered the request, and then he did just that: an act that sparked law enforcement officers in other cities to follow suit marching, kneeling, and demonstrating to the communities they are entrusted with protecting that they are willing to "walk the talk" toward a better tomorrow. Now, we can spend time dissecting whether these officers' actions are indeed genuine or we can see it as a glimmer of hope of what it looks like when leadership stops talking about it and starts being about it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgZZHxlzVAcLGdFDkn0220-3UHgqCJzNIDS4ln_yQVKjR8iV7qWGAktxeLJONixU6ETyPVfv74PCDaj91zEpS-_qmC9D1zaFbzkyKKl3B3lgcFPMvDh-sHPasBFhq_yJ0Q27kubAcGAiT/s1600/now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgZZHxlzVAcLGdFDkn0220-3UHgqCJzNIDS4ln_yQVKjR8iV7qWGAktxeLJONixU6ETyPVfv74PCDaj91zEpS-_qmC9D1zaFbzkyKKl3B3lgcFPMvDh-sHPasBFhq_yJ0Q27kubAcGAiT/s320/now.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
God knows we all have been guilty of lamenting over yet procrastinating about things we need to improve even in our personal lives but, similarly, if we haven't actively made one step in the direction toward change, it's all just talk. Just like the talking heads who clog up our media airwaves recounting the issues we already know exist or the celebrities who do nothing more than post countless memes featuring quotes from famed civil right leaders or the numerous television round tables asking "Where do we go from here?," time's up on talking. If change won't start with leadership, at the very least, it must end with leadership. Like Jesus asked the man at Bethesda "Do you want to get well"? If so, the answer will always remain the same: "Take up your mat...." and march, protest, engage, create, build, legislate, and get resolute about being in the trenches in the fight for justice and social change. Leadership, that means YOU.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Photo Credits: N/A</i><br />
<i>Instagram video courtesy of Hollywood Unlocked</i><br />
<i>Donation list courtesy of Rolling Stone</i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-66452246401358604562020-03-04T12:03:00.002-05:002020-03-18T23:20:35.093-04:00More Hidden Figures: Celebrating (Black) Women's History MonthIt would've been a no-brainer to highlight the achievements of African-American women during Black History Month, but as a believer that our accomplishments should not be limited to a less than 30-day window, I'm purposely choosing to highlight three African-American women pioneers in March instead. Luckily, March is observed as Women's History Month as well, which makes it more than the perfect time to say "thank you" to these women, whom without them, our daily interactions, sense of direction, and even vision would have been greatly impaired. I present Drs. Marian Croak, Gladys West, and the late Patricia Bath.<br />
<b><span style="color: orange;"><br /></span></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTFPW9HRKNv8zGElsKJPh0Iu-j63sE2hQ79BwKSjXJ8UBcifbEo4uO6x7HcLgUVdoh8saysEISDmdFv_EzqH6EJTE9lOk7c4_MQ8fjAtJXTefpLg2dVY-iQebq2gKa2O50rm2iN-qOD3O/s1600/croak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="437" data-original-width="781" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTFPW9HRKNv8zGElsKJPh0Iu-j63sE2hQ79BwKSjXJ8UBcifbEo4uO6x7HcLgUVdoh8saysEISDmdFv_EzqH6EJTE9lOk7c4_MQ8fjAtJXTefpLg2dVY-iQebq2gKa2O50rm2iN-qOD3O/s320/croak.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">Dr. Marian Croak - VoIP Pioneer</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Alma Mater: Princeton University; University of Southern California</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Employers: AT&T, Google</span></b><br />
<br />
Marian Croak, a native New Yorker, is credited with developing Voice over IP (VoIP), and creating most of the methods and features that improved its reliability and led to its nearly universal adoption. VoIP is a method and group of technologies for the delivery of voice communications and multimedia sessions over Internet Protocol, such as fax, SMS, and voice-messaging. After attending Princeton University and completing doctoral studies at the University of Southern California, Croak joined AT&T at Bell Labs in 1982, where she began advocating for the switch from wired phone technology to IP. In addition to her successful advocacy, Croak holds over two hundred patents, including over one hundred in relation to VoIP. Croak also pioneered the use of phone network services for donating to crisis appeals and also for the now popular phone voting practice utilized by many television shows such as American Idol. In 2014, Croak joined Google, where she currently serves as a Vice President for Engineering, leading Google's service expansion into emerging markets. In addition, Croak led the deployment of WiFi across India's railway system, and has assumed responsibility for reliability engineering for many Google services. Croak was inducted into the Women in Technology Hall of Fame in 2013. Dr. Croak, we salute you!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRt08cIp5Fb_pRebWjh_zp8gFFurUequtnGX71Q2HRGJlOohrct4RC6PgbEnPzzLeTGlyQvunq09GN9ouWWRQEsM_54L3RJ8fxIdV7iMitnxu_m7cHPg76jrQwwQHbF5ImoPHr-dB-Pa8/s1600/west.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="624" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRt08cIp5Fb_pRebWjh_zp8gFFurUequtnGX71Q2HRGJlOohrct4RC6PgbEnPzzLeTGlyQvunq09GN9ouWWRQEsM_54L3RJ8fxIdV7iMitnxu_m7cHPg76jrQwwQHbF5ImoPHr-dB-Pa8/s320/west.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">Dr. Gladys West - GPS Pioneer</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Alma Mater: Virginia State University; University of Oklahoma; Virginia Tech </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Employer: Naval Surface Warfare Center (formerly Naval Proving Ground)</span></b><br />
<br />
Gladys West, a native of Sutherland, Virginia, is heralded for her contributions to the mathematical modeling of the shape of the Earth, and her work on developing the satellite geodesy models that were eventually incorporated into the Global Positioning System better known as GPS. In 1956, when West was hired to work at the Naval Proving Ground, she was the second black woman ever hired and one of only four black employees. West was a programmer in the Naval Surface Warfare Center for large-scale computers and a project manager for data-processing systems used in the analysis of satellite data. In the early 1960s, she participated in an award-winning astronomical study that proved the regularity of Pluto’s motion relative to Neptune, and also began to analyze data from satellites, putting together altimeter models of the Earth's shape. She became project manager for the Seasat radar altimetry project, the first satellite that could remotely sense oceans. From the mid-1970s through the 1980s, West programmed an IBM computer to deliver increasingly precise calculations to model the shape of the Earth. Generating an extremely accurate model required her to employ complex algorithms to account for variations in gravitational, tidal, and other forces that distort Earth’s shape. West's data ultimately became the basis for GPS. West retired from Dahlgren in 1998 after 42 years, and was inducted into the United States Air Force Hall of Fame in 2018. Dr. West, we salute you!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhSAL8w76EvPeQGZL3waqlJuMJZj3fe5mNJcxE6WIa-suNDiZcxRmvuo_HFVusF8pti9Voveb7_ksGnHrqqc3MCvFCPSq8zi_4RtEbDLMaOGu_pA2BVe_1YKoAm9ZwOMfbozqbklF2O4Go/s1600/bath.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="600" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhSAL8w76EvPeQGZL3waqlJuMJZj3fe5mNJcxE6WIa-suNDiZcxRmvuo_HFVusF8pti9Voveb7_ksGnHrqqc3MCvFCPSq8zi_4RtEbDLMaOGu_pA2BVe_1YKoAm9ZwOMfbozqbklF2O4Go/s320/bath.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">Dr. Patricia Bath - Laserphaco Probe Inventor</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Alma Mater: Hunter College; Howard University </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: orange;">Employer: </span></b><span style="color: orange;"><b>Jules Stein Eye Institute at UCLA</b></span><br />
<br />
Patricia Bath, American ophthalmologist, inventor, humanitarian, and academic, is credited with being a pioneer in laser cataract surgery. A Harlem, New York native, at the age of 16, Bath became one of only a few students to attend a cancer research workshop sponsored by the National Science Foundation. After graduating from high school in only two years, Bath entered Hunter College, where she earned a bachelor's degree in 1964. She then attended Howard University to pursue a medical degree. Bath graduated with honors from Howard in 1968, and accepted an internship at Harlem Hospital shortly afterward. The following year, she also began pursuing a fellowship in ophthalmology at Columbia University. Through her studies there, she discovered that African Americans were twice as likely to suffer from blindness than other patients to which she attended, and eight times more likely to develop glaucoma. Her research led to her development of a community ophthalmology system, which increased the amount of eye care given to those who were unable to afford treatment. In 1981, Bath began working on her most well-known invention: the Laserphaco Probe--a laser technology device that created a less painful and more precise treatment of cataracts. She received a patent for the device in 1988, becoming the first African American female doctor to receive a patent for a medical purpose. She also holds patents in Japan, Canada, and Europe. With her Laserphaco Probe, Bath was able to help restore the sight of individuals who had been blind for more than 30 years. Dr. Bath, we salute you! Rest in peace.<br />
<br />
To all of the phenomenal African-American women, past and present, who continue to create visions, chart courses, and give us voice, we salute and celebrate you!<br />
<br />
<i>Sources: Biography.com; Wikipedia.com</i><br />
<i>Photo Credits: N/A</i><br />
<br />Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-27188697006818048522020-02-06T16:46:00.000-05:002020-03-09T12:21:47.213-04:00When Grief Hits Different: The Kobe Effect<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiApnUQJ4DZVHxVKrt-mJ4ZgJy_hwuXyHLb27NEFheTa5TDGnNwrB7kLyeJ79-T6Nwc6OTQ_JBlnBNULPszdo1WLByFynD7UifuH18LVKmI540ydBPR2qa-_eXubG8QgOH_Kknee09MCciv/s1600/kobe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="720" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiApnUQJ4DZVHxVKrt-mJ4ZgJy_hwuXyHLb27NEFheTa5TDGnNwrB7kLyeJ79-T6Nwc6OTQ_JBlnBNULPszdo1WLByFynD7UifuH18LVKmI540ydBPR2qa-_eXubG8QgOH_Kknee09MCciv/s320/kobe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It was just over a week ago on January 26th, when the world felt like it came to an abrupt halt upon hearing the news of basketball sports legend Kobe Bryant's tragic helicopter crash death that also claimed the life of his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, and seven of his fellow friends while traveling to Bryant's Mamba Academy. For me personally, every plan I had for that day was derailed as hours upon hours passed well beyond midnight with me glued to my television, phone, and laptop desperately searching for--but mostly trying to process and sort through--the copious amounts of information (and misinformation) to make sense of what was simply incomprehensible: a seemingly indestructible athletic powerhouse was snatched from us on an early Sunday morning without warning. However, as hours turned to days, theories became facts, details emerged, and acceptance began to set in, there was something else just as incomprehensible: the widespread mourning that was both palpable and unshakable.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02-c2yxcyZeriv-CCOAGabm-8K78Qdq9y975TFW9J-Nb3jiB8a-V9o7TRZAu9hOQyE24gEUcfnVsf3j0ZdwtP5cRxR71z4yASacEhJMdUTkttXpflIR8kJZ5ROm3hmx_NRgKIIsIm_KyF/s1600/kobe2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02-c2yxcyZeriv-CCOAGabm-8K78Qdq9y975TFW9J-Nb3jiB8a-V9o7TRZAu9hOQyE24gEUcfnVsf3j0ZdwtP5cRxR71z4yASacEhJMdUTkttXpflIR8kJZ5ROm3hmx_NRgKIIsIm_KyF/s320/kobe2.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
I'd be the first to admit that although I admired his athletic prowess, I'd long gotten stuck in my opinion of Kobe as the arrogant high school phenomenon who sauntered into the NBA with a chip on his shoulder and a ball in his hand. Decades worth of rumors of selfish antics on the court, feuds with fellow teammates, and one well-known, widely publicized sexual misconduct allegation left me comfortable in my feelings about Kobe for years; feelings I never really checked back in on. Yet, as time passed, it became more difficult to ignore the evolution of Kobe as a man through his leadership on the court and his engagement off the court as husband and father, all which seemingly coincided with his retirement from basketball and his foray into a second act of life that would include an Academy award, business collaborations, philanthropic efforts, mentorships, and a beloved youth basketball league coaching "job." It was the promise of this second act that made his untimely death all the more, well, untimely and painful. But there was still something more begging to be considered.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHQQf1Ugz6IJBQfY2AgEyiZMahHYvKfelFF1bNTgnh_EAQHk3ehEZFncII98k6D2msn7m1KRSB5q6gLLfc-pMyqY5jfX68ExbgbTSLIae-_oWqf9Xw5Aj4Q-H3ltlX-Sjs0gDOLZ6oN1A/s1600/trio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="436" data-original-width="628" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHQQf1Ugz6IJBQfY2AgEyiZMahHYvKfelFF1bNTgnh_EAQHk3ehEZFncII98k6D2msn7m1KRSB5q6gLLfc-pMyqY5jfX68ExbgbTSLIae-_oWqf9Xw5Aj4Q-H3ltlX-Sjs0gDOLZ6oN1A/s320/trio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The loss of icons and the accompanying sadness we all feel is nothing new. In fact, the last decade has forced us to reckon with the departure of some of the world's biggest and brightest stars from Michael Jackson to Whitney Houston to Prince. And although the hurt and pain from those losses was real, I believe the impact and the speed at which our healing occurred was directly related to how we view our own mortality and the unspoken false belief that in some way we can control our destiny by "living right." None of us are without our challenges, but with the passing of the aforementioned icons, reports about their deaths without fail also included narratives on the ways in which they may have contributed to their early demises be it through substance abuse or prescription drug addiction, thus providing us a sort of pedestal on which we could sit and safeguard our own mortality. But Kobe's death hit different. There was nothing to blame. No rhyme; no reason; no foreshadowing from a life lived on the edge. Granted, he hadn't always done everything right, but for all intents and purposes, he was doing so now, which only left the rest of us who struggle every day to do our absolute best feeling strangely vulnerable to the unexpectedness of death's grasp. We comfort ourselves in believing there's a reason for everything but this all felt "reason-less."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqeSdKzs3WgJIWAZZwnuxcW9JrnO2rVbFh35iZwsJJ8cKx1Rh-PIGprmWMS0lqrOOQXLo3HtsXrMZWUNWj5RhuyQ6psG0E0e4K7sr3udg9LXkgJWVUOiNFqIYVWpx-ckC_bcjzvJqvUcx/s1600/kobe+and+lamar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1225" data-original-width="1600" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqeSdKzs3WgJIWAZZwnuxcW9JrnO2rVbFh35iZwsJJ8cKx1Rh-PIGprmWMS0lqrOOQXLo3HtsXrMZWUNWj5RhuyQ6psG0E0e4K7sr3udg9LXkgJWVUOiNFqIYVWpx-ckC_bcjzvJqvUcx/s320/kobe+and+lamar.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Kobe's former teammate Lamar Odom struggled with his own form of "survivor's remorse" stating in an Instagram post, "No way God took my brother this early. I know I been through my own stuff in life with using drugs and not being good to myself...if God would have came to me and said we would take me and spare Kobe I would have rather that happened," further reinforcing the false narrative in which we often take comfort that our good or not so good deeds can somehow change the trajectory of whatever is meant to be. It does not, which is why almost every tribute to and about Kobe was punctuated with a reminder to live in the now; forgive now; reach out to loved ones now, because as Kobe's passing reminded us, when death calls, no amount of money, fame, prestige, or "good works" can cancel its appointment. I know this sobering reality caused the shock of Kobe's passing to hang on me like a weighted blanket for far longer than I expected and, honestly, longer than it made sense. And that's when I had my greatest revelation about Kobe's death and the shared pain everyone I spoke to from family to friends to neighbors to coworkers to even complete strangers was experiencing: the world needed a collective reason to mourn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFoohvxQjkpGcmV_AALsa1e6Ga_TBw3Kb-Tn4_dU5YtYUsPFDVNtdYuOToVdCNSAXvc_i85kMFnHUz8wSFAab6tHXVgRtewsEc3atJzSPmg_084ZHHzW1tKwrXnqT8dAQuvrqyMPxXmkE/s1600/flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="852" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFoohvxQjkpGcmV_AALsa1e6Ga_TBw3Kb-Tn4_dU5YtYUsPFDVNtdYuOToVdCNSAXvc_i85kMFnHUz8wSFAab6tHXVgRtewsEc3atJzSPmg_084ZHHzW1tKwrXnqT8dAQuvrqyMPxXmkE/s320/flag.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
In talking to a friend, I described the unrest in the world as of late as that of a cauldron that's been bubbling with political and social unrest, unthinkable violence, and life-changing natural disasters. Add to that pot our own personal daily struggles and losses, and you have a "perfectly imperfect" recipe of unshakable pain we repeatedly push down as we attempt to push forward until that cauldron tips over and every hurt we've been holding onto spills at our feet. I believe Kobe's death tipped that cauldron for many of us and gave us a chance to release. A recent <a href="https://thegrio.com/2020/01/29/what-kobe-bryants-death-has-taught-me-about-how-black-men-mourn/" target="_blank">Grio opinion piece</a> highlighted this very notion stating that Kobe's death had provided black men an opportunity to do something they are often shamed and shunned from doing: letting tears flow unapologetically and without question. As Blue Telusma stated in her piece, "Since Kobe Bryant's tragic death, Black men have shown emotions that many forget they have. It's time to let them have their wake for the NBA legend and show that despite stereotypes, they are human."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNNbaj5577tA2I3fMCtpO_-bkVUt26gTZMB6ZH8_YvqIrojVmPje641IoR-ykHxc43nWzkD2nLC5i28HQdMabAc8WmLPdMYybRyqlkMH9wwf9Z-u25gbB45m_j0eijo9HrqQy1ihq6urf/s1600/crying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="512" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNNbaj5577tA2I3fMCtpO_-bkVUt26gTZMB6ZH8_YvqIrojVmPje641IoR-ykHxc43nWzkD2nLC5i28HQdMabAc8WmLPdMYybRyqlkMH9wwf9Z-u25gbB45m_j0eijo9HrqQy1ihq6urf/s320/crying.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
In Kobe's death we all found a freedom to unabashedly feel, be it for a day, for a week, and for some, what will be even longer. Of course there's no time limit on mourning and time does indeed heal all wounds, but for once, no one is rushing us to reconcile our feelings, which in a world of growing superficiality is remarkable in itself. Yet, while no one will ever be able to explain the reason or necessity of Kobe's absence from this world at 41 nor reconcile all the promise his continued existence on this earth could bring, if his passing brought #GirlDad(s) closer to their beloved daughters; if his passing caused someone to make that phone call to a loved one they hadn't spoken to in years; if his passing caused the world to stand together in the humanity of shared mourning for one black man, regardless of our political, religious, or racial differences, then he was able to do exactly as he planned to in the second act of his life: make an impact on the world far greater than basketball.<br />
<br />
<i>Photo Credits: N/A</i><br />
<br />Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-52634165733867452352019-10-18T16:03:00.001-04:002019-10-28T15:23:33.672-04:00Black and Read All Over<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcxuD3LBao8Awjqu85WpZwpDFkFPiWoVfqzVc_keOMq2xYbaHJhAexMK5-ZJ3t7cqYOAP1SRiqbWr5END5MNdcQNIoaT_0H2Vt5LlSsGVaNLj5ZVIQCWGHGy-BDFchCARlNEl1RaBDYoJ/s1600/book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="300" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcxuD3LBao8Awjqu85WpZwpDFkFPiWoVfqzVc_keOMq2xYbaHJhAexMK5-ZJ3t7cqYOAP1SRiqbWr5END5MNdcQNIoaT_0H2Vt5LlSsGVaNLj5ZVIQCWGHGy-BDFchCARlNEl1RaBDYoJ/s320/book.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
It didn't take long for the lingering summer-fall warm-front to bid us adieu and usher in the dreaded fall-winter chill. For some, this signals the start of the infamous "cuffing season." Realistically, for most of us, it signals thick socks, Snuggie blankets, tea, and a few good books. Now I must admit, thanks to a hectic schedule, my best (late) discovery or newest joy rather has been audiobooks via the Audible platform. At $15, you have a choice of one downloadable book per month plus a few free Audible-choice selections. Yet what makes the offer even sweeter: if you don't choose a selection for the month, the credit simple rolls over, in which you can amass a sizable number of credits in short amount of time. But enough on Audible. Instead, let's get into a few new (and fairly new) fiction and autobiographical releases by African-American authors sure to make you reflect, weep, and laugh your way through the cold, long winter.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgya9xitp6xAT_w8QaharC5CN_FHPw4rg4ng0EWrVws63HP4zXeB6c-7kW4boU9UZ0jZx7ujRhaJUM5DX6Z3tE5253p-neFBbtXjInS-X3T4tiXKEfs_-PHHo0N9Z-r03JzK0yMJHWIrLLf/s1600/mother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="394" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgya9xitp6xAT_w8QaharC5CN_FHPw4rg4ng0EWrVws63HP4zXeB6c-7kW4boU9UZ0jZx7ujRhaJUM5DX6Z3tE5253p-neFBbtXjInS-X3T4tiXKEfs_-PHHo0N9Z-r03JzK0yMJHWIrLLf/s200/mother.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: #ffd966;">The Mother of Black Hollywood by Jenifer Lewis (Memoir - 2017)</span></b><br />
<br />
If you don't know the name Jenifer Lewis then you probably should familiarize yourself with a few of her more than 300 appearances in film and television from Sister Act to What's Love Got to Do With It to her current starring role in ABC's "black'ish" first. Reason being, the journey Lewis takes readers on from her difficult childhood in Missouri to her years on Broadway and in Hollywood all the while navigating an undiagnosed mental illness and sex addiction as well as the many, many, highs, lows (and MEN) that came with her stardom, will not only make you laugh, holla, and weep, but will make you appreciate this Black Icon even more. Lewis' is both unapologetic and candid about a life well lived while ensuring readers she's only just getting started. As one review noted, 'Mother' is written with no-holds-barred honesty and filled with insights gained through a unique life that offers a universal message: "Love yourself so that love will not be a stranger when it comes."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wqGFL7GQVC51ZgNDE4Lpwe1-PpudCxEcRWXDAaVjuGMzTrGpiKzN5HVa0fuUcskbvtJey5i_ZnddQqXvP_EU7y_kpjUVq0GmswhorqkJQyEDSR8Lq4K71RSfM3c6-VokVc4k6BLYaeib/s1600/marriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="270" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wqGFL7GQVC51ZgNDE4Lpwe1-PpudCxEcRWXDAaVjuGMzTrGpiKzN5HVa0fuUcskbvtJey5i_ZnddQqXvP_EU7y_kpjUVq0GmswhorqkJQyEDSR8Lq4K71RSfM3c6-VokVc4k6BLYaeib/s200/marriage.jpg" width="132" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: #ffd966;">An American Marriage by Tayari Jones (Fiction - 2018) </span></b><br />
<br />
Shout out to my cousin who gifted me this novel in hardback form which, ironically, led to my discovery of Audible (in trying to keep up with her reading speed for our unofficial book club of two). The New York Times Bestseller, which also had the distinction of being Oprah's 2018 Bookclub Selection, tells the story of newlywed artist Celestial and young executive Roy settling into their new life together, when it is suddenly torn apart when Roy is arrested and sentenced to twelve years for a crime he did not commit. Struggling to navigate the unexpected circumstances, Celestial finds herself taking comfort in Andre, her childhood friend and best man at her wedding, while Roy grapples with life on the inside as well as being anxious about the one on the outside that's slowly slipping from his grasp. However, when Roy's conviction is suddenly overturned after five years, he returns to Atlanta to see if what he left behind still remains or if he must begin life anew. Jones' novel will elicit a plethora of emotions as readers may struggle--and at times grow downright frustrated--at some of the decisions of both Celestial and Roy, but what the novel best achieves is forcing readers to consider what would need to be done if walking in either pair of uncomfortable shoes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuU71il2yxoYZYfHYX__R6ce9IKxmjIMoJo2L5nuQB8dNZh4rEut-f-yGqY-LLnBQBWLn1NJ9xMztBlGFhiMRF2Ig-4J52wfx57akPuxASdVuhUiBaZnTjmo-XemfBoiCSdyhXWzvhfQEx/s1600/heavy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="264" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuU71il2yxoYZYfHYX__R6ce9IKxmjIMoJo2L5nuQB8dNZh4rEut-f-yGqY-LLnBQBWLn1NJ9xMztBlGFhiMRF2Ig-4J52wfx57akPuxASdVuhUiBaZnTjmo-XemfBoiCSdyhXWzvhfQEx/s200/heavy.jpg" width="130" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: #ffd966;">Heavy by Kiese Laymon (Memoir - 2018)</span></b><br />
<br />
Lauded as the 2018 Audible Audiobook of the Year, "Heavy" is an eloquently written, deep dive into African-American writer, editor, and professor, Kiese Laymon's complex life growing up an obstinate black son to a complicated yet brilliant black mother in Jackson, Mississippi to his rise as a tenured professor of creative writing at Vassar College. In between, Laymon chronicles his early experiences of sexual violence to his suspension from college to his trek to New York as a young academic, while navigating a never-ending battle with body acceptance leading to lifelong struggles with both anorexia and obesity as well as sex and gambling addiction. One review notes, "By attempting to name secrets and lies he and his mother spent a lifetime avoiding, Laymon asks himself, his mother, his nation, and us to confront the terrifying possibility that few in this nation actually know how to responsibly love, and even fewer want to live under the weight of actually becoming free." Feeling as if I were holding my breath throughout the entire memoir, it was not lost on me that "Heavy" never provided a moment to fully exhale, thus driving home Laymon's message that to comfortably breathe while being black in America is a near impossibility.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk0lYHvyNZgX3D7ZOmmSLakU80_uzi_tjwQf3gIl0MkEremrUdZWwuDRDRQnjiC9Vn37m2GC3Om8kIsdWiO5VDKB5OS6B6H3Ha7JGbzRsLNm-8iVLFJIwZ-1auUqvKxfVNBfkAC58_Ffq/s1600/blacker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="268" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk0lYHvyNZgX3D7ZOmmSLakU80_uzi_tjwQf3gIl0MkEremrUdZWwuDRDRQnjiC9Vn37m2GC3Om8kIsdWiO5VDKB5OS6B6H3Ha7JGbzRsLNm-8iVLFJIwZ-1auUqvKxfVNBfkAC58_Ffq/s200/blacker.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: #ffd966;">What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young (Memoir/Collection of Essays - 2019)</span></b><br />
<br />
Before Damon Young even dropped his debut novel, I was sold on the book for both the title alone and the fact that I have been a longtime fan of his humorous essays courtesy of his website "Very Smart Brothers" shared with equally funny co-founder and friend Panama Jackson. However, I did not expect to have as many laugh-out-loud, talk-to-myself moments of the "Damon, you a whole fool for that" variety. As noted in a review of the book, "The memoir chronicles Young's efforts to survive while battling and making sense of the various neuroses his country has given him. It's a condition that's sometimes stretched to absurd limits of creating the farce where, as a teen, he wished for a white person to call him a racial slur just so he could fight him and have a great story about it; and generating the surreality of watching gentrification transform his Pittsburgh neighborhood from predominantly black to "Portlandia...but with pierogies." However, the absurdity of Young's tales does lend itself to darker moments of his life from his father's inability to hold a job thus placing the family on a long journey toward financial freedom that was never fully realized to coping with the loss of his mother far earlier than he expected. Of all of the books I read, umm, err, listened to recently, I will admit Young's is the one I recommended most to friends, in which is wasn't long before I'd get a phone call sharing my same sentiment: "This guy's a whole fool"...and yet brilliant all at the same time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXsGDORn8NE6CmZKqZgGO9N5G0bEA8vDipkaajxFk7xNe2dd6WXEO0oUomsliqWJsWHnxlUj8BCln03A3SnSJv10kHXgXswRg2K13b4KatZvFKY0u9PSqjicyB2-G0eJLVuRJUvsrGHV1E/s1600/dan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="276" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXsGDORn8NE6CmZKqZgGO9N5G0bEA8vDipkaajxFk7xNe2dd6WXEO0oUomsliqWJsWHnxlUj8BCln03A3SnSJv10kHXgXswRg2K13b4KatZvFKY0u9PSqjicyB2-G0eJLVuRJUvsrGHV1E/s200/dan.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #ffd966;"><b>Dapper Dan: Made in Harlem by Daniel R. Day (Memoir - 2019)</b></span><br />
<br />
If you call yourself a fashionista or style guru yet don't know the name Dapper Dan, your credibility is mad questionable. The Harlem legend, icon, and designer put down his tailoring tools and picked up a pen to write his first tell-all of his days pioneering high-end streetwear in the 1980s, remixing luxury-brand logos into his own creative designs that would find their way on the backs and feets of black America's most popular artists, entertainers, and athletes from Salt-N-Pepa, Big Daddy Kane, and Jay-Z to Mike Tyson and Naomi Campbell. However, before Dan reinvented haute couture, his journey included that of a boy with holes in his shoes, to a teen who daringly gambled drug dealers out of their money, to a young man in a prison cell who rediscovered his self in books. Fashion icon and Vogue contributing editor Andre' Leon Talley stated, "What James Baldwin is to American literature, Dapper Dan is to American fashion. He is the ultimate success saga...he is pure American style." Here's hoping that Snuggie you wrap up in while reading this poignant memoir is as bonafide and blinged out as Dan would have it be. Bonus for audiobook readers: Dan, himself, provides the narration for the introduction of the book with the remainder of the book narrated in its entirety by actor Omari Hardwick.<br />
<br />
Happy reading and cocoa with marshmallows toasts to you!<br />
<br />
<i>Source: Amazon</i><br />
<i>Photo Credits: N/A</i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-58144156611316591732019-05-27T21:16:00.003-04:002020-06-29T21:48:54.136-04:00Cinematic Summer Sensations On the Horizon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm2PkW6e_xrcLuw2YlJkniU2eqsSmYesrLh1YsAIQRBVGW97N9Ng0Dv2pfAwjwplv_CAYScS7ADxb9-RWxBSnCzs3KicvYtiNQUQeVa27uEo3RRoAspzQ3oADqcazO8kTZd12t1uRaPKQ/s1600/theater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="728" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm2PkW6e_xrcLuw2YlJkniU2eqsSmYesrLh1YsAIQRBVGW97N9Ng0Dv2pfAwjwplv_CAYScS7ADxb9-RWxBSnCzs3KicvYtiNQUQeVa27uEo3RRoAspzQ3oADqcazO8kTZd12t1uRaPKQ/s400/theater.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
It's Memorial Day--the unofficial start of summer--and there's no better time than the present to highlight this summer's cinematic gems heading our way by us and/or starring us. Whether the horror genre is your thang or it's 70s blaxploitation (reboot) flicks that's your groove, there will be a little something for everyone coming to a theater near you offering the perfect retreat from the summer heat yet setting the screen on fire all the same. Take note, mark the dates, and get ready to be entertained!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWzA5v7kNKllGkOajNQ4FwgaahuS80PXzefjRoKvET-96Z97dFeUxivSHKWy2aHu15NBS619piPbrTWnODxT4JQjXgRff_Kc3qhbuNwen3LpjjtVOAI5U-DoU_aIN1UOuSdUVS4KySqz-/s1600/Ma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="251" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKWzA5v7kNKllGkOajNQ4FwgaahuS80PXzefjRoKvET-96Z97dFeUxivSHKWy2aHu15NBS619piPbrTWnODxT4JQjXgRff_Kc3qhbuNwen3LpjjtVOAI5U-DoU_aIN1UOuSdUVS4KySqz-/s200/Ma.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>Ma - May 31st </b></span><br />
<span style="color: orange;"><b><br /></b></span>
Academy-award winner Octavia Spencer has made us laugh and cry, but her starring role in her first spine-tingling horror thriller will be sure to make us scream! Spencer plays the role of Ma, a lonely middle-aged woman who befriends a group of teenagers and lets them party in her basement. What begins as the time of their lives slowly turns into the teens' worst nightmare as Ma's friendship with her new "friends" morphs into a deadly obsession instead. Directed by Tate Taylor and co-starring Juliette Lewis and Luke Evans, Ma is noted as the first horror movie to feature a female, black lead. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIvbEC8N3cA" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yM0ChT23AOBiyKL8I9EAYedRfp14sDPvoihIeiUbLFVIf_mU3GomCJ8qNmsD670XQa4Dm9wyMYEYDkNOlNI-lhi5_ZZzrDWrTA2dftlnHABbdOePVrj80mfr4P-EViq9Qq4wc9HDr_oy/s1600/Pets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="251" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yM0ChT23AOBiyKL8I9EAYedRfp14sDPvoihIeiUbLFVIf_mU3GomCJ8qNmsD670XQa4Dm9wyMYEYDkNOlNI-lhi5_ZZzrDWrTA2dftlnHABbdOePVrj80mfr4P-EViq9Qq4wc9HDr_oy/s200/Pets.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>The Secret Life of Pets 2 - June 7th</b></span><br />
<br />
You won't be able to physically recognize comedian Kevin Hart as Snowball--fierce white rabbit and former flushed pet--in one of the summer's most anticipated animated sequels, but his voice and, of course, humor is undeniable. Hart and all of his furry co-stars are back in the Secret Life of Pets 2, wrecking havoc yet somehow saving the day. Terrier Max (Patton Oswalt) faces some major changes after his owner gets married and has a child creating new fears for Max's security. On a family trip to the countryside, Max meets a farm dog named Rooster, and both attempt to overcome his fears. Meanwhile, Gidget tries to rescue Max's favorite toy from a cat-packed apartment, and Snowball sets on a mission to free a white tiger named Hu from a circus. Hart again team's up with his co-star Tiffany Haddish from last summer's comedy Night School, when she stars in Pets as Daisy, a keep-it-real Shih Tzu. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYocfuqu2A8" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2_CUEPxodbc_G8FVXTAEDECvdo_RNBd9OKHSMoYAFD7gi2TWWN2-0boXrWEiPuzZntykyyP_IMQkYLIB9hksEwEoh6tJ91VNVLw3hX8LIM6eH7YKxC4TKTm4tj4Tcpey6r29xKUqM070n/s1600/Last.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="225" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2_CUEPxodbc_G8FVXTAEDECvdo_RNBd9OKHSMoYAFD7gi2TWWN2-0boXrWEiPuzZntykyyP_IMQkYLIB9hksEwEoh6tJ91VNVLw3hX8LIM6eH7YKxC4TKTm4tj4Tcpey6r29xKUqM070n/s200/Last.png" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>The Last Black Man in San Francisco - June 7th</b></span><br />
<br />
Take a heartfelt, cinematic journey through San Francisco, when the city is used as the backdrop for a passionate and painful conversation about the impact of gentrification in Joe Tablot's directorial debut. Last Black Man, which stars Tichina Arnold, Danny Glover, and Mike Epps, centers on the efforts of an African-American man, Jimmie, trying to reclaim his childhood home, a Victorian house in the Fillmore District built by his grandfather. Jimmie Fails plays himself in the film, partly based on his life, and which won the Special Jury Prize for Creative Collaboration at the Sundance Film Festival. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0FnJDhY9-0" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_q3bvFxqRpDBQ5yxbP0MrQhWwWU8yTySSgqx0zPmy-M6cFVGGOw0vKsXOuUtCQmfWO2NdpOX_c8PTscpKtOB9OnCNc13uYnbXA3qJQYLpFcTJC-nOIxTarGSX1hnmGFiFhtHbNN0SwJ81/s1600/shaft.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="257" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_q3bvFxqRpDBQ5yxbP0MrQhWwWU8yTySSgqx0zPmy-M6cFVGGOw0vKsXOuUtCQmfWO2NdpOX_c8PTscpKtOB9OnCNc13uYnbXA3qJQYLpFcTJC-nOIxTarGSX1hnmGFiFhtHbNN0SwJ81/s200/shaft.png" width="134" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>Shaft - June 14th</b></span><br />
<br />
Shaft's Richard Roundtree is still a "bad mother shut your mouth" and he's back this summer kickin' more butt alongside his nephew John Shaft II (Samuel L. Jackson) and John "JJ" Shaft Jr. (Jessie Usher). JJ, now an FBI agent and cybersecurity expert, teams up with his dad and uncle to solve the mystery of the death of his best friend who dies under suspicious circumstances. Uncle, father, and son take to the streets of Harlem's underworld to solve the crime and shake Uptown all the way up as only they can. Directed by Tim Story, and written by Alex Barnow and Kenya Barris of "black'ish" fame, Shaft also stars Regina Hall, Method Man, and Alexandra Shipp. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD41XdWcmbY&t=22s" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N3e8IO8iaB3b5GZuDgElFapK9JgGVjVrKScSN9zri1kI5vIgp76p_LI0YQnikDJSBDeUwz0J91u250l5iZhYDw5J0BcIIDZSajRy0qfExHe7yUFqx_VfaQmQJxIuLhrLCvmzETFaia0H/s1600/emanuel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N3e8IO8iaB3b5GZuDgElFapK9JgGVjVrKScSN9zri1kI5vIgp76p_LI0YQnikDJSBDeUwz0J91u250l5iZhYDw5J0BcIIDZSajRy0qfExHe7yUFqx_VfaQmQJxIuLhrLCvmzETFaia0H/s200/emanuel.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>Emanuel</b></span><b><span style="color: orange;"> - June 17th and 19th</span></b><br />
<br />
Showing for two nights only--commencing on the fourth anniversary of the tragic mass shooting with an encore showing on Juneteenth--is the documentary Emanuel. Emanuel features survivors and family members of victims recounting the events that led up to and during the June 17, 2015 Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church shooting in Charleston, South Carolina, committed by a white supremacist who walked into the church's bible study and gunned down nine African Americans. Produced by Stephen Curry, Mariska Hargitay, Viola Davis, and Mike Wildt, Emanuel is directed by Brian Ivie and will also be available on streaming platforms in September 2019. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBFSaiyl2bU" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgafO4eOPu7sUSPt1xXjzuBpqtFRT1-hScbRu53eQPI2yyTw0hno3tX3cUYnf2d-j2J6o5kRHNKS6y7HlcVBfmCEgr7t1qBtUNuLMMkXL-fVLsP8LglXa1EOMTuPubvjO_pw-f8nQBETd/s1600/Toni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="540" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRgafO4eOPu7sUSPt1xXjzuBpqtFRT1-hScbRu53eQPI2yyTw0hno3tX3cUYnf2d-j2J6o5kRHNKS6y7HlcVBfmCEgr7t1qBtUNuLMMkXL-fVLsP8LglXa1EOMTuPubvjO_pw-f8nQBETd/s200/Toni.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am - June 21st</span></b><br />
<br />
If documentaries more your soul, there will not be a more intriguing subject to embrace this summer than Nobel Prize winner Toni Morrison. Directed by Timothy Greenfield-Sanders, the documentary will focus on the 87 years young literary giant's career, highly acclaimed novels, and life through personal reflection and the reflections of close colleagues and friends including poet Sonia Sanchez and media mogul Oprah Winfrey. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8sUwXTWb4M" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6_MJcSVXxGGijknUaPclLaR2biAncarfqz91q0PphoaXvaw5dM3Y8I03N8ctIkyjZZN5Icb8BJsP17RNTfuuDcUJFwqNSigiEdkRYqEBnW6rhTWEgFxF2XlBE6-WQ_XzLqBSKMiVTrPD/s1600/banks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6_MJcSVXxGGijknUaPclLaR2biAncarfqz91q0PphoaXvaw5dM3Y8I03N8ctIkyjZZN5Icb8BJsP17RNTfuuDcUJFwqNSigiEdkRYqEBnW6rhTWEgFxF2XlBE6-WQ_XzLqBSKMiVTrPD/s200/banks.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">Brian Banks - August 9th</span></b><br />
<br />
This August, real life takes its riveting place on the big screen with Brian Banks. The movie tells the true story of Brian Banks, an all-American high school football star whose life unravels when he's wrongly convicted of a crime he didn't commit. Despite a lack of evidence, Banks becomes a victim of the broken justice system and is sentenced to a decade of prison and probation. However, with the legal support of Justin Brooks and the California Innocence Project, Banks fights to reclaim his life and make his dreams of playing in the NFL a reality. Directed by Tom Shadyac, the film stars Aldis Hodge and Greg Kinnear. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9-PqY5pEeo" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVG2yhhgePynN2bivrk1dEaDjqCcDFQlahshQFqymL40Ol7uonKk9BhbfxoJKOxtre6JYdXuHtrE2sBjifXc5EtrMZdYqonC_e33FPI_BSGocNk9Q2OYcBxxHzDvyfIh8dz4y-l_voc1O/s1600/the+kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="628" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVG2yhhgePynN2bivrk1dEaDjqCcDFQlahshQFqymL40Ol7uonKk9BhbfxoJKOxtre6JYdXuHtrE2sBjifXc5EtrMZdYqonC_e33FPI_BSGocNk9Q2OYcBxxHzDvyfIh8dz4y-l_voc1O/s200/the+kitchen.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: orange;">The Kitchen - August 9th</span></b><br />
<br />
Can you ever get enough of funny girl Tiffany Haddish? If the answer is no, you're in luck. In August, Haddish tries out her dramatic acting chops when she teams up alongside Melissa McCarthy and Elisabeth Moss as three 1978 Hell’s Kitchen housewives whose mobster husbands are sent to prison by the FBI. Left without anything, the three ladies take the Irish mafia’s matters into their own hands to keep business afloat, proving surprisingly adept at everything from running rackets to bringing down the competition. Directed by Andrea Berloff, who co-wrote "Straight Outta Compton," the Kitchen also stars rapper/actor Common. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgit74aVAvM" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBzx3rL5r0KrUQjUpnb-xUezMSLHeZKoyRG7skutB-VPzrrPMID1_QfIVnd0DEytBqMekvEiy5z6KNPeu_wXBcWP9-ERUpc-5cq2KOeYBkucM27MPN097LNeHTymjUx8-pqMIY0aCRw19/s1600/hustlers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="1000" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBzx3rL5r0KrUQjUpnb-xUezMSLHeZKoyRG7skutB-VPzrrPMID1_QfIVnd0DEytBqMekvEiy5z6KNPeu_wXBcWP9-ERUpc-5cq2KOeYBkucM27MPN097LNeHTymjUx8-pqMIY0aCRw19/s200/hustlers.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange;"><b>Hustlers - September 13th</b></span><br />
<br />
Closing out the summer on a hot note in every sense of the word is Hustlers. Starring Jennifer Lopez, Cardi B, Lizzo, and Keke Palmer, Hustlers follows a crew of savvy former strip club employees who band together to turn the tables on their Wall Street clients. Lopez plays the ringleader to the group of women who take their plans of getting what they think they deserve to the next level. Hustlers also stars Julia Stles, Lili Reinhart, and Constance Wu. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_dfc0iqmig" target="_blank">See trailer here</a>.<br />
<br />
That's it--for now--folks. Have a Happy Memorial Day and a sensational movie-watching summer!<br />
<br />
<i>Photo credits: N/A</i><br />
<i>Sources: Movie Insider; YouTube; Wikipedia</i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-51257288499283287002019-04-11T15:50:00.001-04:002019-04-15T15:53:10.085-04:00The Great Comeback: From the Holy Land to Hip Hop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9n4hE3xxVuoz582oqsMf789xT6jBjl_J84pBGADcUN-mv11K1CWGV_bqcUyGO1j_nZ4hkRhPoJmnc5bTMXQUWpOw2xlVXzS4oHOj4bjhA639saYY3rmr7lrIox-MY7OK6_cOLKq-PxmId/s1600/nip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1548" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9n4hE3xxVuoz582oqsMf789xT6jBjl_J84pBGADcUN-mv11K1CWGV_bqcUyGO1j_nZ4hkRhPoJmnc5bTMXQUWpOw2xlVXzS4oHOj4bjhA639saYY3rmr7lrIox-MY7OK6_cOLKq-PxmId/s320/nip.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On this 11th day of April, as those in the hip hop community and beyond, celebrate the life of rapper, entrepreneur, and business man, Ermias Joseph Asghedom, professionally known as Nipsey Hussle, I must be honest in admitting though a fan of the music genre, I didn't know Nipsey's music or much about the now legendary man behind the moniker. As is often (and unfortunately) the case, our true greatness is elevated by and often not recognized until death, as is reflective of the accolades, tributes, citations, and celebrations given in Nipsey's honor from those who lived on his block to those in the highest offices (most notably Rep. Karen Bass (D-Calif.) commemoration of him on the House floor and of President Barack Obama's letter of condolences read at Nipsey's homegoing services). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2fQP3WMJ-sgyDS_4CYmuTOtk1djpfr0avy2UKPSb1UDQfle84YXIorssoIzggK_6YBoJLeIXE-Kz-Boj4pMY0ko6c7YTQbZhO4fgpi1Af5ZRev6cRhNFqFBecuWU5WWqsUa0HE8GMhKED/s1600/nip2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="842" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2fQP3WMJ-sgyDS_4CYmuTOtk1djpfr0avy2UKPSb1UDQfle84YXIorssoIzggK_6YBoJLeIXE-Kz-Boj4pMY0ko6c7YTQbZhO4fgpi1Af5ZRev6cRhNFqFBecuWU5WWqsUa0HE8GMhKED/s320/nip2.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Semmi W</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was without question that the late rapper--though on earth a mere 33 years--had done what many from any walk of life, most notably, the inner city, struggle to do: turn a bleak nothing into a great something. More explicitly, to take street knowledge and transform it into a knowledge of economic empowerment and ownership that both changed his life and the lives of those in his community through the creation of businesses and thus jobs, green space, real estate, and countless other ventures with a projected value of over $210 million. However, I still felt only a distant adjacency to the impact Nipsey made, having no real awareness of his works or his words. Yet, driving from a conference in the Ohio Valley over the weekend, I desperately searched for a radio station in range playing anything to my liking to make the trek from the Valley to the airport an easier one. My search landed me on Magic 95.5 and the Straight Talk Live with Khari Enaharo show. It would be no surprise to me that the show, which focuses on the economic and political issues that impact the African-American community, would open in homage to Nipsey.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7gQ42d7jnH45xJ_ZNhfB1rxLGzoF4OHiVpgKveBR7CoJ4o9LLD-Lcgmgf93mW6OEsEfyMb3lc3HfYwtj2qN1M7W-hF64A4KRlh0uLHG2eEk5td98kVdiHKnzTx1lUV2ZfAMm-FyPUTEXM/s1600/cross.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7gQ42d7jnH45xJ_ZNhfB1rxLGzoF4OHiVpgKveBR7CoJ4o9LLD-Lcgmgf93mW6OEsEfyMb3lc3HfYwtj2qN1M7W-hF64A4KRlh0uLHG2eEk5td98kVdiHKnzTx1lUV2ZfAMm-FyPUTEXM/s320/cross.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Yet, what gave me considerable food for thought were some lyrics from one of Nipsey's tracks "Bigger Than Life" that Enharo recited: <i>But I don’t want no help, just let me suffer through this/The world would not know Jesus Christ if there was never Judas. </i>Whether the world would have known Jesus or not had it not been for his conspirator can be debated, but what is both very prolific and an appropriate reflection during this Resurrection season, is that Judas indeed served as the catalyst that caused the set back for the set up that led way to Christ's great comeback, both literally and figuratively. In layman's terms--and what Nipsey's lyrics reminded me--is that our disappointments, discouragements, struggles--and even our enemies--can be used to fuel our greatest victories.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICrtr3ypl2POHEq0lGgitnlzYTYzeZcTKXk-sgAeIGQ89qpZxkEQfANPbZUv4VMO2qUoiiUldinPLYnhB-yBmIKqLGUdVHnS9VRqRPMVElu30aeVtmC2Tfan7TPC6jwoFL474bf3_CB8Q/s1600/rise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="205" data-original-width="352" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICrtr3ypl2POHEq0lGgitnlzYTYzeZcTKXk-sgAeIGQ89qpZxkEQfANPbZUv4VMO2qUoiiUldinPLYnhB-yBmIKqLGUdVHnS9VRqRPMVElu30aeVtmC2Tfan7TPC6jwoFL474bf3_CB8Q/s320/rise.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
NBA veteran Kobe Bryant once said, "Everything negative - pressure, challenges - is all an opportunity for me to rise." Taking it a step further, how we <i>view </i>those challenges determines whether we'll settle in our circumstances or see them as stepping stones toward our greatness. My mother often said, "In every life some rain must fall" but she also reminded me that every day was a new day to do better; be better; start again. To grow; to learn. To fall; to rise; to reclaim. Thus, as we celebrate the life of Nipsey--and the many lives of those living or who have passed, whose demonstration of perseverance, change, and re-birth despite challenges, inspire us to keep going, may we be reminded of Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 "We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair, we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed...."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUosUkpfg716wSwenPkoZE45ZMJ6jE4zf4yxCyKRNHz-cE6V5Z1qeZTvf1hApb2rSvy_Ai1Usd4xsF9SY3wavp_FmoARejtfSKslzvlRhfRSslLergGmXXgaAGf6Qg9zlfxtVNuPBm6FpC/s1600/nipsey+mural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="1484" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUosUkpfg716wSwenPkoZE45ZMJ6jE4zf4yxCyKRNHz-cE6V5Z1qeZTvf1hApb2rSvy_Ai1Usd4xsF9SY3wavp_FmoARejtfSKslzvlRhfRSslLergGmXXgaAGf6Qg9zlfxtVNuPBm6FpC/s320/nipsey+mural.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
In the memory of those who rose from the ashes of their own circumstances to create a place of promise and prosperity for themselves and others, and as we "run our own marathons," may we always be motivated to be better and do better in spite of.<br />
<br />
Rest in peace, Nip. Happy Easter, everyone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Addition photo credits: N/A</i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-25603334220289467002019-02-10T00:21:00.001-05:002020-03-08T15:37:18.468-04:00A "Cool" Piece of Black History<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEMIQor05TbboLZkaXuR6rSclZehLA2Qtnc87HZm_ijiWPjAmtcMBbMQAOMtupwXSLiCYubvw7rSxBA0kAPQ_P-cTf4JFhVXhfk_0Frm6b0fiRE8h7EgDhk05ofU2f03IZVaNQ8jTFcpu/s1600/IMG_5114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEMIQor05TbboLZkaXuR6rSclZehLA2Qtnc87HZm_ijiWPjAmtcMBbMQAOMtupwXSLiCYubvw7rSxBA0kAPQ_P-cTf4JFhVXhfk_0Frm6b0fiRE8h7EgDhk05ofU2f03IZVaNQ8jTFcpu/s320/IMG_5114.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with a fellow reveler</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Of the many fond memories 2018 left me with, one that I didn't anticipate was the excitement I gained from being swept up in Caps Fever. When the Washington Capitals hockey team forged a clear path toward clinching its first ever Stanley Cup win in franchise history, it didn't take long for Washingtonians to get on board the Celebration Train--yours included--in what we hoped would be an energy that would transform all of the city's sporting teams into something that would give us long-dreamed of bragging rights. What Caps Fever also did was bring everyone together (if only for a few weeks) regardless of age, race, or socioeconomic status. When bar and restaurant tables were full, quick friendships formed allowing extra space to be made for stray chairs to join in the commune. Fans bought drinks for strangers; fist bumps were aplenty; and high fives were exchanged as passing fans hopped bars along Chinatown's 7th Street stretch, that was blocked off for those watching all of the action taking place inside Capital One Arena via jumbotrons.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcu9mec-HK4LvXb10DO0rlnBm97S6nCJpwhJjlp__iDzZhexHvpFndETfsJAd1OHzevrwc1EYawSN10pzLakuG1GzhOE6zLJdBrTr1z8IRRZai16IcJN9HHqVunUbb4fiRExgSRmpwyyiB/s1600/pelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcu9mec-HK4LvXb10DO0rlnBm97S6nCJpwhJjlp__iDzZhexHvpFndETfsJAd1OHzevrwc1EYawSN10pzLakuG1GzhOE6zLJdBrTr1z8IRRZai16IcJN9HHqVunUbb4fiRExgSRmpwyyiB/s320/pelly.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devante Smith-Pelly</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To say it was a period of DC pride would be accurate. To say it also was a moment of African-American pride due to one of the leading scorers on the Caps team being Devante Smith-Pelly--a 26-year-old Black Canadian power forward--would be an understatement. (Note: The Capitals second black player currently on the roster is Madison Bowey). Despite the Capitals having actually been among the most diverse in the league, with eleven black players playing a game for the team since 1974, racism surrounding black hockey players in general is both not uncommon nor a thing of the past. In fact, in February 2018, a Capitals game against the Chicago Blackhawks found Smith-Pelly at the center of racial taunts, leading to four fans being ejected from the arena and the Capitals issuing a public statement on the matter. "This has happened [to me] in hockey before," Smith-Pelly said. "It's disgusting, that in 2018 we're still talking about the same thing, over and over. It's sad that athletes like myself, 30, 40 years ago were standing in the same place." (<i>Source: The Washington Post</i>).<br />
<br />
Even sadder is the long-held belief that hockey is a "white sport" in which blacks do not and should not belong when, in fact, at the foundation of hockey history are black players. Hence why it felt appropriate that for Black History Month and in February, which the National Hockey League has deemed "Hockey is for Everyone" month, that I spotlight a group of pioneers in the sport of hockey: the Coloured Hockey League of the Maritimes.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcSk3xuq8w0kRPNYqZXefKDEEHWFaEDRlZSKp7iQz0L4VhNhj3GhlPJWQLavTV2HiMjal_3twshpkX4jhUFiVGChaWEDMUSkjTHEDWOig971ytVpCdxxeU6NjmQbqYwQpZ2yAksd3K60g/s1600/CLHNovaScotia.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="363" data-original-width="433" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcSk3xuq8w0kRPNYqZXefKDEEHWFaEDRlZSKp7iQz0L4VhNhj3GhlPJWQLavTV2HiMjal_3twshpkX4jhUFiVGChaWEDMUSkjTHEDWOig971ytVpCdxxeU6NjmQbqYwQpZ2yAksd3K60g/s320/CLHNovaScotia.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coloured Hockey League players</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
According to the Canadian Encyclopedia: <i>The Coloured Hockey League of the Maritimes (CHL) was an all-Black men's hockey league founded in 1895 in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Organized by Black Baptists and Black intellectuals, the league was designed as a way to attract young Black men to Sunday worship with the promise of a recreational hockey match between rival churches following religious services. Later, with the influence of the Black Nationalism Movement of the period — and with rising interest in the sport of hockey — the league came to be seen as a potential driving force for the equality of Black Canadians. By the early 20th century, the CHL had expanded from a humble three-team league in 1895 — which included its maiden club, the Dartmouth Jubilees — to involve newly formed regional challengers. Though the CHL would see its popularity grow--with game attendance bypassing that of its white counterparts' games--it would ultimately face its own eradication when racism in the form of a proposed railroad expansion that would adversely affect the black community in the north-end of Halifax caused black residents and white city officials to be at odds. During the legal battle, some rink owners refused to rent out their hockey rinks to the league or to any Black teams. Other rink owners agreed to only do so in late March when the natural ice surface was already beginning to melt. Local newspaper coverage of the league also disappeared virtually overnight, with only one article penned between 1905-06. With a poor playing surface slowing the game and no means of promotion, the league was forced to move back onto the local ponds, effectively killing the CHL as an economic and social Black movement. The last recorded newspaper account of the league during this era appeared in 1911. (The CHL's full history can be read <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/coloured-hockey-league">here</a>).</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVv5ZShrYB7XozQZ4BLmLrQ0T03fTdlecqwU-ezVVGOspwq_0Zio0IiCMOik67mN_d_FLk5zc-e02xqQlrbV7qtUr4DigO4uvD5kmwZ9R7z-yk9EWW9u0WZ_La7SnRnQdke0xyUi13gXqq/s1600/willie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="700" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVv5ZShrYB7XozQZ4BLmLrQ0T03fTdlecqwU-ezVVGOspwq_0Zio0IiCMOik67mN_d_FLk5zc-e02xqQlrbV7qtUr4DigO4uvD5kmwZ9R7z-yk9EWW9u0WZ_La7SnRnQdke0xyUi13gXqq/s320/willie.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilie Eldon O'Ree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The National Hockey League eventually would organize in Canada in 1917 but would not expand to the United States until 1924. However, despite the impact of the CHL, it would not be until 1958 that Black-Canadian professional hockey player Willie Eldon O'Ree would become the first black player in the NHL, thus linking Black-Canadian and African-American sports history forever. O'Ree played as a winger for the Boston Bruins and was often referred to as the "Jackie Robinson of ice hockey" due to breaking the black color barrier in the sport. He was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame in November 2018.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxSEsgcBVwx_atJUmcqCnyXkx0DtzgbTL2AsrJI7WeD-oj2EcaSb8owF7ejLphulrv8Zp4YXylkeDGdDGs-rlF9GMAETlXOyXTfOePmP0FjPRCQdQfs-t6ru2mgfC6y7ztV5UMbt_sRUR/s1600/jt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="1600" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxSEsgcBVwx_atJUmcqCnyXkx0DtzgbTL2AsrJI7WeD-oj2EcaSb8owF7ejLphulrv8Zp4YXylkeDGdDGs-rlF9GMAETlXOyXTfOePmP0FjPRCQdQfs-t6ru2mgfC6y7ztV5UMbt_sRUR/s320/jt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">J.T. Brown of the Tampa Bay Lightning</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There's no arguing that hockey will always be viewed as a "white sport," due to the limited amount of players of color it boasts, as well as those who will always question our place in the sport's history altogether. However, thanks to the pioneers of the Coloured Hockey League that would influence the likes of Willie O'Ree and ultimately lead to the birth of present day hockey greats like Smith-Pelly and Bowey, we can agree with the National Hockey League's mantra that "hockey is for everyone" while raising a hockey stick proudly in the air alongside a power fist.<br />
<br />
<i>Photo Credits: N/A</i><br />
<i>Sources: The Washington Post, the Canadian Encyclopedia, Wikipedia</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>Erica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2810129251133196166.post-73772702147170581642018-11-21T13:59:00.001-05:002018-11-21T13:59:25.516-05:00Never Too Late: A Thanksgiving Message<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdYkjQwomK63t67FmmqZpgsEx5QivxQq7lI3OQ8n02IvAINQt05U5osdgWummhtgtFMf-cjIhxZR3NspJMUB4B7j-mVkjRtKWAAjhDnt3eDmbaCXyprkWefJjgUaLKJWksGP7-90aJ3sq/s1600/clock.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="770" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrdYkjQwomK63t67FmmqZpgsEx5QivxQq7lI3OQ8n02IvAINQt05U5osdgWummhtgtFMf-cjIhxZR3NspJMUB4B7j-mVkjRtKWAAjhDnt3eDmbaCXyprkWefJjgUaLKJWksGP7-90aJ3sq/s320/clock.jpeg" width="296" /></a></div>
The month of November delivers us Thanksgiving, which brings a time of both gratitude and reflection on the past. As the next to last month of the year, it's also when we either pat ourselves on the back for how much we've accomplished or give ourselves a hard pass (after a little self criticism) on how much we didn't, then vow to hit the restart button after the New Year. However, whether 10 days, 10 months, or 10 years have slipped from your time clock, I was recently reminded of a famous quote for which we should all be thankful: "It’s never too late to follow your dreams, and there’s no time like the present to start."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzaiR94vYtGZ_Pd5T6FAH2nFLCnhCePpgikCv0cF92L4rFnS78LlrrbVLLsZzb4K4Sv0Q5n5sqP18AKz5RO-B3TDsR4CVkamcEkLGjq7Qjf1AOcIjIdexQFsjo-M1GI4RGCPBmXL1eNWfv/s1600/stan+lee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1065" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzaiR94vYtGZ_Pd5T6FAH2nFLCnhCePpgikCv0cF92L4rFnS78LlrrbVLLsZzb4K4Sv0Q5n5sqP18AKz5RO-B3TDsR4CVkamcEkLGjq7Qjf1AOcIjIdexQFsjo-M1GI4RGCPBmXL1eNWfv/s320/stan+lee.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
As comic fans reeled from the news of the passing of American comic book writer, editor, and publisher Stan Lee at the blessed age of 95, my admiration for Lee didn't have much to do with his 60 years of print and cinematic genius as much as it did that Lee was in a club of historic "late bloomers." Although Lee joined the publishing business at Timely Comics in 1939 at the age of 17 and became editor-in-chief within a couple of years, it wasn’t until 1961--nearly at the age of 40--that he would hit his stride. Timely Comics would be renamed Marvel Comics that year, and in association with legendary comics writer-artists Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, Lee would go on to revolutionize superhero comics.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozPxLaiSMHdyFkZ_6Q5jWBpWH4tDMPP4VYTeihMgn-NIRi_aA36OAZZbsTH2h2nt5e_rctk7k-2vyA7mftTbrxXCbUyg-vXeJrWVeW-XXaP-oXzX3UaX-xt5wNmG7V5qvEHcMaaz_FdoP/s1600/august+wilson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="933" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozPxLaiSMHdyFkZ_6Q5jWBpWH4tDMPP4VYTeihMgn-NIRi_aA36OAZZbsTH2h2nt5e_rctk7k-2vyA7mftTbrxXCbUyg-vXeJrWVeW-XXaP-oXzX3UaX-xt5wNmG7V5qvEHcMaaz_FdoP/s320/august+wilson.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Not to leave the "late bloomers" club without competition, late American playwright and double Pulitzer Prize winner, August Wilson's, career path took him on a journey as an Army vet, porter, short-order cook, gardener, and dishwasher. However, never abandoning his deep love for writing, Wilson co-founded the Black Horizon Theater in the Hill District of Pittsburgh along with his friend Rob Penny in 1968 and introduced his first play, Recycling, which performed for audiences in small theaters, schools and public housing community centers for 50 cents a ticket. However, it would not be until 1982 when the first of Wilson's famed 10-cycle plays--<i>Jitney</i>--would premiere, and seal his place in history as one of the greatest playwrights to ever live. Wilson, at the time, was 37.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-c24NlRKBymzNvqummM2HRfwkjOaerjj13LlPvRLWCuYM8Bj-1NGG4fPAVmoq7sXt_FJ7MyQjpFP9Rft6rWUcy7vc-gb2X2-HE_yeQz8mFNGWYOUjK__4X6oIbaYcgv-3EKzm__QReLmg/s1600/lucy+bath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="775" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-c24NlRKBymzNvqummM2HRfwkjOaerjj13LlPvRLWCuYM8Bj-1NGG4fPAVmoq7sXt_FJ7MyQjpFP9Rft6rWUcy7vc-gb2X2-HE_yeQz8mFNGWYOUjK__4X6oIbaYcgv-3EKzm__QReLmg/s320/lucy+bath.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
On a more serious and timely note, this years mid-term election--due to current administrative turmoil and the non-leadership entities that reside in both our Nation's Capitol and White House--brought out candidates running for election that were both many and varied. Although the Democrats lost the Senate, it gained the House, and there was not a more notable victory than that of Georgia, first-time congressional candidate winner Lucy McBath, infamously known as the mother of Jordan Davis. Davis was killed in 2012 in an act of racist gun violence, while sitting in a car at a stop light with three friends. His murderer, frustrated by the "loud rap music" emanating from the vehicle in which Davis was riding, retrieved a loaded shotgun from his car, fired 10 rounds, and killed 17-year-old Davis instantly. The senseless act of violence would propel Bath to become a gun control advocate, serving as a spokesperson for Everytown for Gun Safety and Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense, and ultimately leading her to make a bid for the Congressional seat in order to turn her personal loss into national change. Before tragedy propelled Bath into a different place in history, she was a flight attendant for Delta Airlines. She is 58.<br />
<br />
May we all be fortunate to avoid the tragedy and pain Bath has endured as a motivation toward our greatness; however, it does not erase that fact that dreams, no matter how they're ignited, reside inside all of us and, unless acted upon, will also tragically wither and die. Whether it's a career change, returning to school, starting a business, starting a family, or even redefining relationships, it's simply never too late to make a change. No, it won't be easy but as another famous quote states, "If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it." Because of this, however, I'm also wise enough to know there will be those beyond age 37, 40, even 58, who may read these historic accounts and think they're still too old to begin again or start something new. To that, I leave you with this: Harlan David Sanders, better known to chicken lovers everywhere as Colonel Sanders, founded the Kentucky Fried Chicken company at age 65. He went on to become a multimillionaire. I rest my finger, lickin' case.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9eJjA3U5vDD45fXDrT1vIM-WXhIcxbNp-mtC9TZ5sRtWcY_7o4Uzh55suVpdDJiRcgys50y5LMzDq-fD0hw9T8iZy6D45zpWAeHFkzwdsSMXcKHMn4NtnwGD0h630eOt5RjOsBhyphenhyphen0gyU/s1600/do.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="612" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9eJjA3U5vDD45fXDrT1vIM-WXhIcxbNp-mtC9TZ5sRtWcY_7o4Uzh55suVpdDJiRcgys50y5LMzDq-fD0hw9T8iZy6D45zpWAeHFkzwdsSMXcKHMn4NtnwGD0h630eOt5RjOsBhyphenhyphen0gyU/s320/do.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
In all seriousness, on this Thanksgiving, as we sit among family and friends and reflect on the past year, let's remember to be thankful for both what we've accomplished but also for dreams that remain in our hearts that remind us that as long as we have breath in our bodies, it's never to late to chase after them. May you be blessed with the courage and tenacity that propels you into your destiny, and may you be an encouragement to others on their path who can benefit from your support. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said "The time is always right to do what's right." Find out what your "right" is and get started working on it TODAY.<br />
<br />
Have a blessed and happy Thanksgiving!<br />
<br />
Sources: Livemint.com; PsychologyToday.com; Wikipedia.comErica Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03515695103602778071noreply@blogger.com1