Tag Archives: positive

Homogenized television

At the store we stopped by on our way to my Mama-in-law’s, I saw a diverse snapshot of people. An inter-racial gay couple who were both very tall, an Italian mother and her daughter, a few white employees, a mixture of humans milling about the aisles selecting last minute purchases for their Thanksgiving feasts. Every person I saw greeted me with smiles and warm wishes which I firmly returned to them. I felt so alive with happiness that I wished I could hug everyone I saw. I even commented this to Ben (my husband) as we got into our car and finished our journey. I felt amazing.

My beautiful in-laws are avid fans of local station news/sports/weather and keep the litany in the background all day long. The same newscast at noon gets a tad of refresher before being the 6 o’clock news and then the 11PM news. In between these news segments/shows were, what felt like hours of commercials. This is where I noticed something keenly off.

There was not a single local ad played on the station that had any people of color. The homogenized version of society was played out with white families, white men, white children dancing around with extra money in their hands to go pay homage to the golden calf shopping centers. Occasionally there would be a non-threatening black woman with VERY natural hair to demonstrate how very black she was (it felt this way…cartoonish in appearance to make her feel safer?) but not a single black man appeared in any of the local commercials. In fairness, the national ads (Straight-talk phones, for example) showed a knowledgeable black man with no sense of humor, but not any of the local ads had many black people at all.

Every show that was on the station had all white characters, many without even a “token”. I said out loud, “That can’t be right.” As the evening progressed I heard comments referring to the “needy black folk” as only those, “Who probably didn’t want to work anyway,” followed by the subsequent “Amen corner” rolling with the praise Jesus commentary.

Before you think I’m judging, please understand where I get this visual. My Uncle was a bit…shall we say…passionate about his faith for quite a while. He would attend church 7 days a week, sometimes twice a day. As kids, my brothers and I found it completely reasonable to want to tag along. We witnessed some incredible things while traveling to the back hills churches in Lake of the Ozarks. Speaking in tongues, rolling in the aisles, snot blisters the size of basketballs, and afterwards, the best food brought out by the church ladies (Nobody to this day has ever surpassed Myetta Baptist Church’s gooseberry cobbler).

But what always amazed me about those churches were the amen corners. They said Amen to everything the preacher said. If the preacher said they were all sinners, the amen corner agreed. If the preacher proclaimed they were all beating their kids and that was okay, the amen corner nodded their assent to their transgressions. If the preacher said that the fires of hell would make the pews burn off clothes, the amen corner would start stripping. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but they just simply agreed, sometimes without thought.

That’s what sitting in this living room felt like. Another comment flies past, “Always with their hands out. They should work.” A nod and a grunt of assent follows. Every local channel I surfed through and edited was whitewashed to the point where the diversity I saw in the grocery and at the theatre and at the gas station was absent.

It felt like the local channels were purposefully and methodically pointing fingers at those “needy blacks” that take and don’t give. It felt alarmingly wrong.

Another story that was shown on the news that involved “those people” was about a little boy whose mom and dad had been drug addicts at one time. Ready? The dad was black and the mom was white. The little boy had pale skin like his mom. Comment: “He must have a different daddy because he don’t look black.” “Amen. Amen.” The story talked about how this family used to be takers but now they were saved and serving others, isn’t that nice?

The only mention of Ferguson was a short 30 second blurb that talked about the march from Ferguson to Missouri’s state capitol. Then it was back to local sports.

How can anything change when people are not shown the “real world?” How can people realize that their behaviors are not out of bigotry (in the case that I am sharing) but of ignorance. It’s perpetuated by their everyday lives being reflected to them in whitewashed versions of reality. It creates such an obvious wedge that I believe, as an outsider, it’s no longer even noticed.

I get that change is a personal thing, but when there is such an obvious spin on the negativity of change being perpetuated by the ridiculous “reality” of shows, you may as well just be listening to one song over and over until your ears bleed. No matter how much you enjoy listening to “Peace on Earth”, until the tune changes, the song becomes as tired of a litany as the obvious erasure of any other race on Southern televisions.

If I can see this in just one living room in the Deep South, how many other people are doing their own “Amen corner’s” affirming that they are doing the right thing? Reaffirming that their belief in the stereotypes is justified because they once knew a person who knew a person and we all know how that ended. (No, actually I don’t. That isn’t the world I live in).

How many other families are camped around their tribal fire (aka the television) learning that to be anything other than white is an unforgivable sin? How many children of any skin tone other than “white” are learning their “place” (that sounds so bitter and cynical) by watching their own race, their own skin be erased until they are…less than’s? This is not acceptable.

Please remove this ignorance from your vocabulary and transform it into the education of your mind to the people you live around each day. Plug into your community instead of the media whom lies to you each day. Remember that the further we are from uniting as one people, the easier we are to divide and to be conquered. The farther divided we remain, the more ignorance is allowed to breed and the longer the cycle continues.

Please, for the love of humanity, do not let the ignorance continue. Let’s not repeat the murderous rampages of the 1960’s of peaceable men doing noble things. Let’s regard the possibility of peace among humans with reverence, not complacency. Let’s learn from our outrage that change is necessary. Change can only happen when we stand united as the people we are in our divine glory of humanity. Change is possible. We ARE that change, together; me and you.

I See You

Kaleidoscope_13I see you. You are not invisible to me. When I look at you, you wear no clothes. You wear no physical form. There is a ball around your body that lights up when you’re around people you like and dims when you’re not fond of them. The ball has colors and patterns that are spectacularly blended to me. I see you.

You’re a kaleidoscope of vivid colors that ebb and flow depending on how you move the liquid essence that you float in unwittingly. Where there is pain, I see the darkness. Where there is love, I see the light. Where you reside is usually a central color that tells me everything I need to know about you. I am a voyeur of sorts but not the creepy kind. I will not jump from your closet unexpectedly one night. I will meet you on the terms you’ve established. Because I can feel your intent.

I’m sorry if you feel I’ve invaded your privacy. I don’t know how to turn it off. I don’t really don’t want to because it’s served me so well. It’s proven invaluable to me to seek others of the light. It’s proven invaluable to me when I know I can’t trust a person because they are too consumed by material things to know they’re spiritual beings. It’s guided me effectively to incredible experiences through people with knowledge so deeply profound that I sometimes weep with gratefulness while others cause me deep caution.

It’s a feeling of authentic appreciation of identity that can only bloom with the watering of confidence when I see people that fit into their spirits; That “get it”. When I see someone working actively to grow into their spirits, I can forgive almost anything they do because I witness the evolution of color as if a perfect painting were in the works and I get to watch the brushstrokes fall on the canvas. It’s glorious to see. My gift allows me the privilege without effort.

There are also people who are not exactly dark and not exactly light. They are in a flux between worlds. The material world grabs their ankles and wrists tugging them away from their destiny. Their spirit self does a watoosie trying to find footing, trying to fill in the blanks. There are some that stand in this disarray and cry out that they don’t know who they are or that they don’t know what they’re doing. Nobody knows for sure what we’re doing. We just come up with a plan and see how it pans out. If we’re lucky, we have guides to show us the way out. I am one of those guides but I don’t know everything.

It is increasingly difficult when I feel as if I am carrying/dragging them towards the light. They start off saying, “Oh yes! I really want to do something different and I really like your ideas. Let’s go on this journey together.” I comply and we have long talks deep into the night. The kind that feels like it is the most important conversation I’ll ever have. For that moment in time that glimpse into the moonlight or the daylight it truly is. The intensity can’t be matched because it is so relevant. It is crucially real. But they fall back asleep and forget that we’d every spoken the conversation. With some, that shine so brightly but fear themselves, I keep trying to wake them up because I believe they need to be; because they said they wanted to be.

I don’t say anything to people who are dark. I don’t squeal with delight when I see them. Their wounds run far too deep for me to do anything other than shine a light at the end of their tunnel and coax them from sleep if they’re ready. There have been times when words came out of my mouth that weren’t mine but were intended for a particular person. Just like that, it’s as if a small miracle, sometimes large, happens but it isn’t mine. That’s when my light can reach into that dark place and help bring them home to the light where they belong. Those are the people that shoot past me like a rocket grinning from ear to ear on the tides of self-discovery and I cherish each one that finds that place. I do not gift them because it’s already theirs as it is yours. I may just nudge the light a tad to the right so they can see they’re really okay.

But I can’t carry them. I can’t wake them up. I can’t do that. I can’t pick someone up and force them to embrace their colors. It is ALWAYS the individual choices that color their spirits. It is ALWAYS their responsibility. I learned this and other rules of engagement when watching the masterpieces I encounter.

I can’t tell people what color they will become but I can tell them what color I see. The colors don’t have traits as much as they have emotions attached to them. When I see the colors and I really like them, I have to wait. I can’t immediately bond with them because rarely, but it does happen, they are wearing someone else’s colors. Like maybe they had a bad interaction with someone so it clouds their spirit or they’ve just received great news and are wearing that instead of their normal vestments. It’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing that causes me to ease my steps.

The physical being, the way you wish people to see you comes second. When I see someone that matches their physical self with their spirit self, it’s a feeling of home. It’s a feeling of such personal integrity, I think, “YOU! You’re there!” Sometimes it surprises me so much to find an authentic person that I actually say that out loud. There are many people who come close to matching but, it’s like they choose the wrong pair of socks or the wrong shade of happy. It’s just enough off for me to recognize that they’re missing parts of themselves or aren’t aware they are. It is my experience that it’s typically the latter.

The physical being does matter. I don’t wish you to have the wrong impression. I do see it, but not until I’ve peered through the spirit. When I tell someone that they are beautiful, I see them as I’ve described to you. I wish I could paint each person so they could see their beauty too. As if, if I could create them on canvas, they might appreciate their own divinity that seems apparent to me. But instead I’ll follow the advice of my kind Uncle Les who said, “Mare, whatever you do, keep doing it. The world needs more of it.” So it is written, so it is done.

Schadenfreude

As I’m scrolling through my newsfeed each day, I noticed an unusually high ratio of hate. Hate Justin Beiber? That’s okay. Hate Westboro Baptist Church? That’s okay. How about Democrats? Republicans? Atheists? Gays? Women? Men? Goldfish? That’s okay too.

I am all about personal freedom. I believe that every person is entitled to their own opinions, beliefs, and ways of doing things. What I don’t understand is why the hate of such ridiculous things? If you want to hate something, what about poverty? Hunger? Rape? Acid Attacks? War? Human Rights Violations?

These are things that should be hated. These are things that should not be tolerated, but we do. We allow it because it isn’t in our own backyard. It’s okay because it isn’t directly affecting most of us, thankfully, on a daily basis. We turn our face away because we believe that people, all people, should be like we are.

If you’re reading this, you at least have electricity with pretty good odds you have clean safe water to drink. If you’re reading this, you’re probably not worrying about soldiers breaking into your house, killing the man/men and raping the women. If you’re reading this, odds are you have at least a rudimentary education that taught you how to unlike the millions of children who will never witness these words. If you’re reading this, odds are you’re using some sort of electronics device that cost enough to supply an entire village for an entire year clean water, food, and/or medicine needed for survival.

The generosity shown by the United States when 9/11 happened, when Katrina hit, when, most recently, the tornadoes hit in Oklahoma, is amazing. That’s because it happened where we couldn’t ignore it. We couldn’t walk away because the victims of these tragedies are our neighbors, friends and relatives. They have faces like ours. They were our friends, neighbors, countrywo/men. It was if our banding together would prevent another of these tragedies, whether man made or not, from happening. A NIMBY attitude that permeated our popular culture and brought unity where there had been division.

Think about this: The people in a remote village in South Africa, in Russian States, in China, in Singapore are someone’s neighbors, friends and relatives too. They have faces, but they don’t look like our well fed American selves. They don’t have the resources we do. They don’t have what we do, but that doesn’t make them any less of a human being. That doesn’t mean they deserve any less dignity or recognition for their accomplishments. We instead focus on their “failure” to be as we are. That’s victim blaming at its horrendous “best.”

Hate is such a nasty thing. It takes away from our compassion. It takes away from our kindness. It blurs love into a meaningless statement of favorites instead of being the action it is intended to be. Think about what you dislike. Now think about all the wonderful things we could be doing for each other right now in the name of love. Do not tolerate the abominations against humanity. Find a way to change the hate speak into love speak. It’s the only way the human race, humanity, will survive.

Bone Filled Closets

“The problem with people is that we’re looking at everyone’s front door from our bone filled closets.” –Crystal Beeler

We show the world the prettiest of packages. We wear the nicest clothes we can afford, drive the best car we can, work at a job where we’re considered “A nice person,” hang out with our friends who think we’re hilarious/serious/odd/insert-other-attribute-here, and we still can’t see ourselves honestly. We pull the wool over our own eyes that we’re not as good as others. We hoodwink ourselves into believing we’re bad at everything and at times ponder why we’re even accepted any place at all.

But we reinforce this belief by telling each other about our humanity through platitudes of: “Everyone makes mistakes,” “Don’t worry, it will get better,” “You’re fine/okay,” or one of my favorites, “Pray that God forgives you,” shows me that we all want to be okay; Be considered okay. But hearing it from the outside while we stand in the midst of our failures can do the complete opposite of what we need to do for ourselves.

The truth is, we already have all the tools we need to be perfectly us. We are already loved. We are already beloved. We are already the perfect version of our collective experiences. When you can accept that, the world is ready for you to explore it with the awe and wonder of your spirit that isn’t linked to the physical plane but by your memories and experiences. A collective of the tried and true and the not such a great ideas mingled into the spicy delicious you.

But how do you get over the fear that others are seeing you as you see yourself? How do you look in the mirror with confidence that you have talents unique to you? How can you say that you’re less than anyone else when you are born into the right of love?

Take off the front door. Be the human you are without fear because it’s who you are. You are, with all your lumpy bumpy bits, amazing. On the physical sense (and yes this assumes), your heart is beating, your lungs are working, your kidneys are doing their thing, your bowels, your stomach, your entire blood vessel system are all working and you don’t have to think about any of it. You can’t run a mile? That’s okay because you can pick up a grain of rice between your toes. You can’t lift 100 pounds? That’s okay because you can read an entire book in a day.

Replace those negative thoughts with the things you CAN do even if they’re not remotely related. Look on yourself with the same compassion you’d show a friend who stripped off their pretty package and had a meltdown in the grocery store. See yourself as a child who only occasionally needs correcting by your loving attention. Give yourself tenderness by taking time to recharge/renew/revive yourself.

There is no shame in taking care of yourself. People will come and go in your lifetime which means that you are the ultimate expert on you. You’re the only one that is around you 24/7/365. You are the only one who know your every thought, every emotion, every goal, every dream, every aspiration, and what makes your truly happy. I repeat, there is no shame in taking care of yourself.

Comparing yourself to others is judging yourself in the harshest of lights. There is no room for error when you’re trying to measure up to someone else. However, if you realize that you are your only competitor for your life and spirit, it really is empowering to know that you can set the goals YOU need to feel successful.

Search deeply into your hidden secrets without fear. You already know what they are. They aren’t a surprise to you. You lived them. You experienced them. You learned from them. Throw them around the room as if you were looking for your favorite toy or outfit that somehow got buried under years of denial, regrets, self-loathing, shame, guilt, and other harmful self-incriminating tactics you’ve used against yourself to declare an invalid self-worth.

Just like as if you were doing a spring cleaning in your house, do so with the negative. You can keep the lessons you’ve learned, but don’t cherish that time you hit your brother over the head with a dictionary. Let it go. If we hold onto the childish mistakes of our past, we’re likely to hold onto the inexperienced or ignorant issues of our adulthood. This isn’t self-care, this is self-sabotage. You’re worth more than that.

By allowing yourself your humanity, you’re giving the gift of yourself to others in a way that can’t be duplicated. Embrace yourself with the knowledge that your imperfections, quirks, obsessions, snarkiness, anger, kindness, and actions are a reflection of the spirit of your humanity.

Give yourself the greatest gift you can give to yourself, love. Everything you are is utterly fantastic. Even the worst thing you’ve ever done is not the definition of you but a measure of how far you’ve come. Put down the baseball bat you’ve been beating yourself with and let those cuts, scars, and bruises heal. When you reach for that self-abuse, remember that a loving person would never harm you. You ARE that loving person. I don’t even know you and I can tell you this for a fact.