A friend called me today just to talk.  That’s not something we do; we never just talk.  

I told her that the only circumstances under which she actually calls me is if either her world is falling apart or something glorious has happened, to which she responded that that’s because I’m her guy friend.  Men don’t do the inbetween stuff, they do big milestones.  She stated, in fact, that men don’t even do the inbetween stuff for themselves, unless they’re sitting at a bar or playing ball with their boys.  So she doesn’t call me for the inbetween, gossip stuff because I’m a guy.

Yet she’s calling me now.  

Maybe the women in her world don’t understand.  Maybe she remembered that I know what it feels like to lay on your mama’s couch with a degree that cost too much, that isn’t doing you a stitch of good, and that will only mean something once some time has passed.  Maybe I’m the only person in her world that knows that exact feeling, the need skip forward in life a bit so that you can get back to your purpose.  

Maybe she didn’t want to call a girlfriend who would inevitably ask about her failed engagement, about her failing job search, about her over-education, about her sick parents, or about the clear signs that her depression is more than a passing sadness and that it needs to be addressed.  Maybe she didn’t want to give another soul a reason to snicker about her joblessness with five degrees.  Maybe she remembers that she’s the one I called when all of these things were happening to me simultaneously, as they are now happening to her.

Or maybe her world is falling apart and I’m who she called because I’m that friend.

Whatever the circumstances, I’m honored I could be her friend tonight.

So this happened today about this post and my week was immediately made.  
I’m happy he liked it.
I’m happier still that he wrote the book.

So this happened today about this post and my week was immediately made.  

I’m happy he liked it.

I’m happier still that he wrote the book.

The Crooked Room:  Crooked Book Review - How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America by Kiese Laymon

I’ve never met Kiese Laymon, but I know him.  He’s my older cousin.  He’s the brother I needed.  He’s the uncle the family doesn’t talk about publicly, but about whom they relentlessly gossip in private.
He’s the neighbor’s son who left for the fancy, northern university because SCSU, Claflin, or Benedict weren’t good enough.  He’s the quirky professor with the deep southern accent whose unabashed claim to his country persistently chastises me for hiding my own. 
He’s the father I can’t bring myself to forgive and whose approval I still seek, mostly unconsciously, yet far more conspicuously than is apropos. 
He’s the black boys turned men I discarded when I left for Philadelphia, whose names I’ve forgotten, but whose memories are always with me.
Kiese Laymon represents in some way every southern black boy that I’ve ever known.  Kiese Laymon is me.  A part of me wants to hates him because of that, but I choose to love him instead.

View Post

The Crooked Room:  Crooked Book Review - How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America by Kiese Laymon

I’ve never met Kiese Laymon, but I know him.  He’s my older cousin.  He’s the brother I needed.  He’s the uncle the family doesn’t talk about publicly, but about whom they relentlessly gossip in private.

He’s the neighbor’s son who left for the fancy, northern university because SCSU, Claflin, or Benedict weren’t good enough.  He’s the quirky professor with the deep southern accent whose unabashed claim to his country persistently chastises me for hiding my own. 

He’s the father I can’t bring myself to forgive and whose approval I still seek, mostly unconsciously, yet far more conspicuously than is apropos. 

He’s the black boys turned men I discarded when I left for Philadelphia, whose names I’ve forgotten, but whose memories are always with me.

Kiese Laymon represents in some way every southern black boy that I’ve ever known.  Kiese Laymon is me.  A part of me wants to hates him because of that, but I choose to love him instead.

View Post

Anonymous ASKED:

Why do fine black EDUCATED men end up with white women? It's like aren't we good enough for them.


darknlovelyqueen:

integritasvitae:

darknlovelyqueen:

aceunibomber06:

Hmm that’s a loaded question but I’ll be honest with you. Let me prefix this by saying I come from a very diverse highly educated family. 1/3 of my family is white 1/3 mixed and a 1/3 black.

Educated black men are mostly geeks. They were the ones in high school who were never at the cool kids table. They probably were not the star players on any team. Most were very quiet. They were the ones who when they showed interest in a beautiful girl they were immediately friend zoned. They were the ones girls went to cry on after break ups. These guys end up in college and study hard because thy don’t have anything else to do.

Since they are not too social and frankly are not much to look at because looks are not important to them, they get ignored in college. When they try to date black women most end up ignored or getting used so they give up on all black women of color. With their degrees etc they end up in social settings with more whites than black. For example where I work there are 16 white women to every black one. And the WOC one are 15 years older than me so the probability of me dating a white woman is higher.

When a woman takes the patience to clean up these geeks and encourages them to work out a little they become the educated fine men ppl covet. And because most likely a white woman took the time to change him and gets him, he puts a ring on. If it’s a WOC then the same applies.

Later on when WOC see this they get mad. Honest question how many guys have you ignored or never noticed because they weren’t your type physically or because you never bothers to talk to them because your friends would not approve.

Based on my experiences

The standards from MOC to date WOC is Higher than for white men

Very nice WOC are hard to find and when you find one she is either in a bad relationship, dating someone else ( typically white guys) or has put so many walls up just trying to talk to her is hard.

We all know WOC who are high maintenance in relationships with nice educated guys. When they break up even tempered women to talk to these guys to tell them not all WOC are like that.

Nice educated WOC have been hurt by a lot of guys so they build defenses for every other guy they meet.

It seems a lot of WOC want guys they can’t have and are unwilling to work with guys they can have but get made when guys have the same unrealistic . How many times have we heard ” I want a guy who is 6’2, muscular, with an 8 inch dick, who can give me what I want etcetera etcetera.” Sorry honey the average guy is 5’10 to 6 even, slightly overweight, and with a 5 inch dick.

We should start teaching WOC and MOC what healthy relationships are like. And getting everything you want takes time energy and effort.

*deep sighs* I am sooooooooo tired of this being the general consensus about WOC. 

I don’t even have the energy to respond anymore. I understand, but I just hate that this is what the consensus is.

I apologize for this consensus but look around objectively. Women who are the exact opposite of this a very very few. The ones I have found are in health relationship with POC. But that’s like 1 for ever 100

You don’t have to apologize because this is YOUR reality. But this story has the same small odds that you just stated. No need to argue on it, I’ve accepted that this is how many WOC are viewed, incredibly incorrect and assumed, but again, YOUR reality.

Naw, bro.  Don’t do that.  Don’t take your experience (or what you’ve seen or think other black men experience) and paint every women of color with your nonsense.

This twisted line of logic always befuddles because I can’t think of anyone who is more supportive of black men then black women.  Some white girl came to clean you up and made you presentable?  Are you kidding me? Bruh, what do you think you mama and grandmama was doing?  Your sister didn’t straighten your gear before you left the door?  The home girl that you never paid attention to, but who never let you sit alone at lunch didn’t look out for you?  There aren’t any nerdy black girls in college?!  Are you kidding me?!  

And even we accept the nonsense premise that women of color have been hurt in such a way that they’re incapable of appreciating black men, odds are they’ve been hurt by us.  Rather than dismissing their scorn, maybe we should come to appreciate our part in it.

Y’all dudes need to chill.

A black woman having standards is not what’s problematic.  God forbid that they have an opinion about the type of relationship they have in the future.  God forbid that they not just let any black man that comes their way have their way with them.  It’s not that black men generally weren’t good enough, it’s just that you weren’t good enough for whomever left you all butt hurt.  But that’s representative of all black women.  That’s not representative of most black women.  

Stop the broad brush strokes.  Maybe, just maybe, if you’d stop treating women like commodities to trade and more like people worthy of their full humanity, you’d have better luck with them.

The Crooked Room:  Role Modeling Is Not Governing

Poor children of color are American citizens, too. 
They, too, deserve the full attention, resources and opportunities provided by their government, led by our president.  To limit their life chances to the goodwill of a few private philanthropists and an undying dedication to neoliberal, social entrepreneurial pursuits is no more a solution than it is sustainable or morally justifiable…
Lastly, as empowering as this moment was, the continued, overt absence of women of color in most national discourse about race is appalling. 

Accepting the premise that black men are not showing up for their children, rather than creating new ways of supporting single mothers, we encourage them to marry the men whom have already demonstrated that they are not dependable.  We pretend that only black boys are dying, as if Hadiya Pendleton and Renisha McBride never lived.  Black empowerment that works solely towards the empowerment of black men is no empowerment at all.  We cannot disappear the shared suffering of black women or the suffering that is uniquely their own, while simultaneously calling ourselves leaders.

View Post

The Crooked Room:  Role Modeling Is Not Governing

Poor children of color are American citizens, too. 

They, too, deserve the full attention, resources and opportunities provided by their government, led by our president.  To limit their life chances to the goodwill of a few private philanthropists and an undying dedication to neoliberal, social entrepreneurial pursuits is no more a solution than it is sustainable or morally justifiable…

Lastly, as empowering as this moment was, the continued, overt absence of women of color in most national discourse about race is appalling. 

Accepting the premise that black men are not showing up for their children, rather than creating new ways of supporting single mothers, we encourage them to marry the men whom have already demonstrated that they are not dependable.  We pretend that only black boys are dying, as if Hadiya Pendleton and Renisha McBride never lived.  Black empowerment that works solely towards the empowerment of black men is no empowerment at all.  We cannot disappear the shared suffering of black women or the suffering that is uniquely their own, while simultaneously calling ourselves leaders.

View Post

Euphoria is dangerous.

We don’t inherently know that, but (insert your preferred deity, belief system, or set of guiding principles) does. Too little and we don’t believe that life can be promising or worth living. Too much and we will destroy ourselves, contorting ourselves in ugly ways to become stranger, unhealthy, irrational versions of ourselves. Euphoria will kill with efficient, stealth force, leaving you dead where you exist before you’ve even realize that you’ve stopped living.

The Crooked Room - “We Don’t Really Want To Be Happy

View Post

We Don’t Really Want To Be Happy

Euphoria is dangerous.
We don’t inherently know that, but (insert your preferred deity, belief system, or set of guiding principles) does. Too little and we don’t believe that life can be promising or worth living. Too much and we will destroy ourselves, contorting ourselves in ugly ways to become stranger, unhealthy, irrational versions of ourselves. Euphoria will kill with efficient, stealth force, leaving you dead where you exist before you’ve even realize that you’ve stopped living.

View Post
Zoom Info
  • Camera
  • ISO
  • Aperture
  • Exposure
  • Focal Length
  • Canon EOS 40D
  • 1600
  • f/3.5
  • 1/13th
  • 44mm

We Don’t Really Want To Be Happy

Euphoria is dangerous.

We don’t inherently know that, but (insert your preferred deity, belief system, or set of guiding principles) does. Too little and we don’t believe that life can be promising or worth living. Too much and we will destroy ourselves, contorting ourselves in ugly ways to become stranger, unhealthy, irrational versions of ourselves. Euphoria will kill with efficient, stealth force, leaving you dead where you exist before you’ve even realize that you’ve stopped living.

View Post