Saturday, August 25, 2012

A Love Letter to Morris Brown College

The picture above is that of my Alma Mater, Morris Brown College. It stands there, strong, rich in history, beautiful and awaiting our doom. Here's a link for the latest meteor about to hit us: . The sad thing is that since I was first introduced to Morris Brown in 1999, my poor school has been clouded with misfortune and devious characters. You name it and its happened to or at this school. I mean, its like a Lemony Snickett book come to life! But all in all, it does not make me love my school any less, if anything, it makes me prod to be a Brownite because we are the underdog, we are Rudy. The one you thought would fail, the one you counted out, the one you laughed at, only to see us rise like a phoenix from the ashes. Here is my story of Morris Brown College.

I have to admit that my college days were not that of joy. In fact, I was pretty miserable back then. Bad relationships, low self esteem, and just overall unhappiness was my life. But this isn't about me, its about the one place where I was happy, the place I looked forward to to escape...the classroom. When I moved to Atlanta, Georgia, the chocolate city of the South, from Williamsville, New York, the whitest place in America, I ran there with arms wide open. I had had enough of the behind the scenes racism and bigotry that I had endured in silence for the past 4 years and wanted to be anywhere but where I was. Morris Brown was my sanctuary. It has an energy that no other educational facility in Atlanta has. It is raw, primal, and covered in the spirits of those who lived before us. I remember being asked, numerous times, "you're too smart for Morris Brown. Why don't you transfer?" I would reply, "You obviously don't go there so you have no idea the intellect that is oozing from those walls. I love my school and I'm not going anywhere". Many looked at me like I was crazy, but every student who has attended or graduated from Morris Brown knows exactly what I'm talking about. We are a family and it goes deeper than the name on the building or who attended our school. Morris Brown College is a true Historically Black College/Universities in every sense of the term, yet it has NEVER been given its just due. Instead of other HBCUs schools standing with us, they talked about us, turned their backs and stabbed us in the heart. But that is ok becasue the word says "You reap what you sow". We will feast on those who would subdue us and take our rightful place. We will not waver, we will not fade. Take away our buildings, auction off our foundation, we will stand, we will fight and we will never cease to be because WE ARE MORRIS BROWN!

love M

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Redefining Beauty

So I want to start with a shout out to the Kardashian sisters. Hey Kourt! Hey Kim! Hey Khol! Why am I taking the time to mention people who are already over exposed and really need to go away for a while? Well, I have a love-hate relationship with these women. Yes, they are annoying and the consistent baby talk makes me want to shot someone in the face, but I like the fact that they are shrewd business women. More so, I love the fact that these ladies helped to change what we think about beauty here in America. They helped to change what the mainstream called hot, sexy, gorgeous and beautiful. So yes, thank you girls for finally making it ok here in America to be attached to women who are not, white, Anglo-saxon, blonde hair/blue eye and who only weigh 105 lb.

I will be the first to tell you...I don't like the way that I look. I never have. I always felt plain, especially compared to my mother, who is the most beautiful woman on the planet. Now, don't get  me wrong, I'm a cool ass chick! I'm smart, funny, a great person to be around. I remember in high school that i would go an d sit at a table by myself and no less then 5 minutes later, the table would be full. I'm the person you want to be around. The girl you want to hang out with. (I know, "Damn girl! Have a slice of humble pie!") But, these are things that I focused on because I knew that I was not the woman who could get by on her looks. Sure, I have great boobs. I love my breasts, but I have a flat ass, which was something that I was reminded of all throughout grade school into high school. The only woman of color with no ass. Not the kind of title you want, right. I've always been chubby, but I still have an athletic build, which I have become so proud of. Thanks Serena Williams! I've been called pretty, cute most of the time, but puppies are cute. Babies are cute. Hell, tea cup pigs are cute. for a grown ass woman, its  not really a compliment. So I went though much of my adolescence and part of my early adulthood thinking that I was not desirable. Then, I went to Japan and something happened. Men of every race, culture, size, shape you name were wanting me. WHAT??????!!!!!! Little old me? I was most surprised at the rate of white men after me because I was told, from a dumb high school friend, that white men were not attracted to black women. (Yeah, I know. WNY can be real backwards in someways. If that is really the case, white guys in Buffalo, you have no idea what you're missing!) I realized that maybe I was too hard on myself, but also, men are attracted to confident women. You hold you head up and love yourself, love from others will follow. Like the lunch room, I was perfectly fine to be alone because I am ok with me inside, that attracted others to me. Like attracts like.

Long story short, I am glad that things are changing, slowly, but surely, in the way we see beauty. Some  people are just physically beautiful, its just life, but the standard of looking a certain way is changing. We have become more open, more accepting and there fore, we now have so many options. Doors that were once closed are now open. And hey, we could all use some sexy time. maybe if we did more of that, this country would be in a better state. I mean, really, "All you need is love".

Peace and blessing to you all :)
Malinda xoxox

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

I Had The Time Of My Life...

I had one of the best nights ever last nigh. I drove to beautiful Canandaigua, New York, which, may possibly turn into my new vacation spot. I saw one of my favorites bands, Mumford & Sons live. And I went there with my wonderful and ever astounding 2 and a half year old son. Yes, you heard me right, I took my kid to a rock concert. So let's see how this whole thing unfolded.

About 7 or 8 weeks ago, I found out that Mumford & Sons were going to do a show about an hour and a half away from where I live. If you have not heard this band, they are AMAZING and you need to check them out immediately! Anyway, I jumped at the chance to see them and asked around if anyone was interested in going with me. I got a few nibbles, so I got 2 tickets as soon as they went on sale. So last week, I ended up finding out that the person I thought I was gonna go with couldn't make it due to work responsibilities, which I understand, we gotta make that money :) So, I said to myself, its only a week, I'll find someone to go with me. Well, I didn't, and a few days before the show I posted a desperate plea on Facebook begging anyone to go to this show with me. Not one person accepted the offer out of my "418 Facebook friends", although I did receive quite a few "I wish I could go, but...". Now, I have always had insecurity issues and its gotten 100 times better over the years, but boy was it in full force now. 1, I'm thinking, "Wow, I have no friends" and 2, "No one likes me enough to spend a few hours at a free rock concert with me". Yeah, like I said, in full force. Despite my self loathing, I was going to this show, not just because I had tickets, but because they are one of the few current artists around that truly inspire and make great music. I was going to support them, no matter what. But there was this  dilemma. I had already paid for the extra ticket and I couldn't get my money back. Who was I going to take when I had no taker???

The decision rang almost too loudly in my head...Masaya. Now let me make this clear, I'm not that person who brings their baby to a movie or adult places. No judgement for people who do cause that's your thing. but that has never been me. As far as I'm concerned, his socialization is restricted to the front porch after 7pm. But I was not going to waste my money and hey, he is amazingly hip. I packed every snack you could think of, juice, pull ups, cars, two books and his/my iPod and got on the road. When we got there, the staring began. Maybe it was  because I was one of the only 8 black people there, but I figured by the looks on people's faces it was because I was "that" lady who brought her kid to a rock show. At first I was so embarrassed, I didn't want to be "that" lady and found my self actually telling strangers, "I had to bring him". I caught up with my friend Mandy and her husband Kevin, which was a nice distraction. We chatted and laughed a bit and then we made our  way to our seats. And it dawned on me, why was I ashamed of my child? I mean, no I'm not gonna make a habit of this, but Masaya is awesome. I am so amazed by him on so many levels, but I love the fact that my son not only knows his ABCs, Yo Gabba Gabba and other children's songs, but he loves, Lady Gaga, Queen, Eric Johnson, Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, Sade, Mumford & Sons and the list goes on and on and on. He is being groomed as a premier artist and as his mother I could not be prouder. To add to the fact, the people around us were so respectful of not only him, but me as well, and we all know how crazy a  rock concert can be. Watching my son rock out was such an amazing experience and him actually enjoying himself and singing along to all the songs more then added to the show, making it even more special.

Like I said, this is not gonna be a habit, but I'm so happy to have shared this with my kid and I can always say that I took him to his first real rock show.

Love to you all,
M  xoxoxo