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Raising a Black Man

For the last three years my child has been an only child, and will continue to be so for the foreseeable future. However, the idea of more children is not entirely out of the question.

My husband and I were raised in entirely different family structures. I am an only child and was raised as such, though I come from a blended family. My husband comes from a traditional family with two working parents with two children. Before we married, we discussed having a large family, but after the birth of our son, we whittled that long list right on down to the one we had with the possibility of another. I won’t front: my labor was hard and at that moment, I was certain I would never want to do it again. But so often I hear that my son “needs” a sibling and it’s selfish for me not to give him one. Family will put the lean on you to pop out another baby when their “baby” stops being a baby.

I think back to my own childhood and the fact that I did experience pockets of loneliness because it was just me, but what I wanted more than anything was an older sibling. My mother, unfortunately, could not make this happen for me so I adopted older friends as siblings. I sometimes envied others who had close relationships to their brothers and sisters, but then felt lucky when they complained of having disagreements or having to share. All of that was foreign to me.

With my son I’m on the fence about what is best for him regarding siblings. Will a second labor be easier than the first because my body is now familiar with it? Will more children put a strain on our family resources and on my marriage? Will the dynamic of a fourth personality blend in seamlessly or make for chaos? And if I don’t have another child, will my son suffer because of it? Will I regret it?

My hubby is supportive in the sense that he does want another child, but isn’t pressuring me to rush into it. We both agree we need to master potty training before we have another one in diapers. Additionally, his brother is nine years younger than him. We definitely won’t wait that long to make a decision, but only time will tell whether or not we continue in our happy little threesome or add another.

 

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Young, Black and Wed

There is no institution more fundamental to the health of the black family, to the prosperity of the black community, and to society in general than the institution of marriage. I remembered that the other day as my wife and I attended the wedding of one of her high school friends at a church in Carson, California. I hadn’t been to a wedding in about as long as I could remember and I hardly count our own (my wife and I got our wedding to go, eloping at a court house just before she left to go to the army). So I wasn’t quite prepared for the feelings and the emotions conjured up in the faces of all the friends and family members who had come together to celebrate our friends union. A female minister spoke movingly of the commitment the bride and groom had for each and for God. The bridesmaids and the groomsmen walked side by side and pair by pair down the aisle, clad in bright blue and forming a procession of youth and loveliness that was perhaps all the more inspiring to see in the context of a black wedding. There was gospel, there was dance, and there was ultimately our friends the bride and groom themselves standing face to face, before one another and before God, sealing their commitment to Him and to one another. It was nice to see, and while it did not surprise me to the mother of the bride shedding tears, I was a little surprised at the glistening of my own wife’s eyes as she hugged her old friends mother. She’s not always so sentimental, but in this moment she was very moved.

Though marriage is usually cause for celebration, I was reminded as I stood and watched the ceremony that even as marriage rates in the United States have dropped precipitously in recent decades (from 76.5% in 1970 to under 40% in recent years according to USA Today) marriage rates within the black community are significantly lower. And while it should be noted that 75% of black women do marry after the age of 35 and that the overall marriage situation is perhaps not as bad as the media sometimes leads us to believe, the fact remains that African-Americans marry at a lesser rate and at a slower rate then do Americans in general. Blacks trail particularly in the 18 to 35 year old block, and while rushing into marriage is not a wise course of action for young people,  I think we can all agree that it would be better for our community to have higher rates of young people whom are married than to have the correspondingly high rates of single mother and children born out of wedlock that are so common place in our communities.

What perhaps concerns me most however is what I see as the deterioration of the importance of the marriage unit, the relationship between husband and wife, in our conception of the black family. A new normal has seemed to emerge in recent decades, one in which we simply accept the fact that young people will have children out of wedlock, that fathers will often abandon their offspring, and that often times it is grandparents who will shoulder an undue portion of the parental responsibilities. Sure, there are a multitude of reasons for this beyond simple cultural decay: economic circumstances can make it difficult to feel ready for marriage, to feel ready to start a family. But of course, black people have been poor for a long time. It has not stopped us from having babies, and it did not prevent a much larger percentage of our parents’ generation from embracing the bonds of marriage. And indeed, we still see the importance of marriage in the eagerness with which we discuss it in film (pick a Tyler Perry movie out of a hat) literature and so forth, (even as we lament the relative elusiveness of it). But it seems to me that the importance of marriage is a revelation that comes upon black people later in life than it should, as far as the younger generations are concerned. There is little in popular culture to reinforce the idea of marriage as an important institution, not in American culture generally or black culture in particular. It’s not surprising therefore that the percentage of couples “shacking up” is on the rise. It is yet more evidence of the growing divide between our churches and our parents values and the excess of our current times.

Yet and still, at the end of the day I am reminded of the fact that as I watched our friends walk down the aisle, and as I looked into the eyes of my own wife as they peered back into mine, marriage is at heart an expression of the love that two people have for one another, for the institution of the family and the central place family occupies in the fabric of our culture. To forget this, is to watch that delicate fabric unravel. This is not something we should allow to fade away.

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Fantasy Men vs. Real Men

Many sisters could agree that their fantasy man would be something like a man with a body like LL Cool J and a smile like Tyrese. He’d be sexy like Idris Elba and talented like Jamie Foxx. He’d be articulate like Michael Eric Dyson and wise like Harry Belafonte. He’d have swagger, paper, and business smarts like Jay Z. He’d have a voice like Luther and keep you laughing like funny man Chris Rock. He’d be an innovator like Spike Lee. He’d have thug appeal like Allen Iverson and sensitive as Usher.  He’d be smooth like TI and write you a rap song that pledges, “You can have whatever you like”.  He’d be a powerful leader like our newly elected president Barack Obama. Yes, all of this wrapped into one would be a fantasy man. This man would have you smiling from the inside out.  You’d sport him around your family and friends with great pride.  Just thinking about a man likes this brings a smile to my face. Then as I allow the fantasy to disappear and I begin to take a look at reality I realize that I don’t desire a fantasy man.  My wants and needs from a man don’t at all mirror the qualities of my fantasy man.

While many of us drool at the thought of the “fantasy man” described above, I believe that many of us want something a whole lot simpler.  This man that we all want I will refer to as a Real Man. The real man is far more desirable than the fantasy man. The fantasy man is just that…. Fantasy. So let me speak truthfully and hope that these words reach the eyes of a man who has ever asked the question “What do women want?”. Perhaps this can even help that brother who is struggling with understanding what women mean when they say, “ I want a Real Man”.

First off, a real man doesn’t allow his fear of the truth to prevent him from being truthful. He speaks the truth even if he knows that speaking the truth will put him in hot water or make him uncomfortable. He is less concerned with the consequences of being truthful and more concerned with being a man of his word. His word is his bond. He realizes that he is a man and he has no reason to lie to anyone about anything.  He values honesty. Therefore he gives it, expects it, and encourages it.

Second , a real man is wise and continuously seeks knowledge. He frowns upon not being educated.  This doesn’t mean he is a Harvard graduate and it doesn’t mean he has a collection of degrees hanging on his wall. Instead, it means he has little tolerance for ignorance and would never find comfort in being ignorant. When he is unaware he goes to those who are wiser than he and seeks answers to the unknown. He isn’t afraid to say “ I don’t know” and he would never say,  “I know everything”.

A real man is a natural leader. There is something about him that makes his woman want to follow his lead.  He makes his own decisions and follows behind no one. His ability to lead allows him to be the head of his household without a saying a word. He doesn’t have to say, “I’m the man of this house”. His woman knows that he is the head of the household without ever hearing him speak. She humbly surrenders to his lead when he is a real man of leadership.

A real man takes care of his babies. He will help raise them. He teaches them right from wrong and showers them with love. His babies look at him and smile. They crave his attention and affection. They call him Daddy and he is the most important man in their lives. His son will want to be like him. His daughter will want to fall in love with a man like him.  He protects his babies at all costs. He tells his children that he loves them. A real man never disrespects his children’s mother even if he has little respect for her.

A real man is sexy even with his clothes on. A woman’s attraction to him goes far beyond his physical appearance.  He doesn’t work at being “sexy”. His sexiness is just natural.  He can arouse a woman without ever touching her. His masculinity is what arouses his woman. His ability to take charge is what turns women on.  Being a man of great strength, integrity, and wisdom is what makes him sexy as hell. His skills in the bedroom are just the icing on the cake (Holla!!!!!).

Finally,  a real man is a man who prays and isn’t afraid to say that he prays. He believes in a higher a power. On his good days and his bad days he knows who reigns above all. This real man will introduce or reintroduce his woman to God. He will remind her where blessings come from. He may or may not go to church but he will definitely acknowledge his Creator.

So to all of my brothers out there who are in question about what women want, it’s quite simple. We want Real Men (not to be mistaken with men who say “I keep it real”.) Fantasy men are good if your eyes are closed and you’re fantasizing. However, in the real world, real women want real men who can really hold them down.

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15 Minute Break: Black Women Speak!

Join KC and the ladies as they discuss the qualities that make a man marriage material, the images of black women in the media, and the relationship between men and their mothers. Podcast guests include Stacee Brewer, Tiffany Lanoix, Rayna Lott, Nikeita Crichlow, Joy May-Harris, Jamila Farwell, Toria Williams, and Sister T.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

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Who’s BAD and Who is Austin Brown?

The name Austin Brown may not ring any bells, but he is the youngest son of Rebbie “Centipede” Jackson, and, of course, the nephew of the late Michael Jackson. Brown, a talented and versatile singer, songwriter, producer and dancer, is ready to carry on the Jackson family business for the next generation. But he isn’t necessarily looking to live off the family’s fame.

“Music is in my heart,” Brown said. “It’s what I love to do. I can’t help where I come from, but I love where I come from, so I just do music and I create.”

Brown also loves to perform, which he said started when his mom first took him onstage. “She was doing a show in Japan and I was about 3,” said Brown. “When I first looked up, there was all of these things onstage — gargoyles and all this weird stuff at the club. And I got scared and kind of ran off, but I paused when I ran off. So my mom tried it again the next day, and I danced my heart off after that.”

Some 20 years later, Brown has teamed up with super-producer Rodney Jerkins and is set to release his debut album, 85. The title represents what Brown has learned from music throughout his life.

Brown said he grew up listening to everything from Boyz II Men and George Michael to the Beatles. And while such a diverse musical taste isn’t uncommon with the iPod generation of today, the singer said he loved to sit around and dissect what makes each artist special. He’d listen and wonder what about the Beatles inspired Brian Wilson’s (of the Beach Boys) work, which in turn inspired the Beatles.

Read entire article at MTV.com

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Family

Summertime is the season for a Black tradition, and that is the family reunion. I’m not sure how other groups do it, but most of us have either our immediate family or groups of families that share the same ancestral line to come together somewhere in the US for a weekend of camaraderie, food, and fun.

We missed both of ours this year, but received updates from family members who attended. In a discussion with my favorite cousin, Nikki, I realized how this wonderful tradition could eventually disappear, since the younger generations (in my family at least) aren’t attending or interested in keeping it going.

Nikki and I got into a thought-provoking discussion about how it seems all Black people aren’t as dependant on family as we once had to be, due to segregation. Most of our families were able to get settled after the passing of the Civil Rights Act because they depended on the help of other families. If family had the means to move West or North for hopes of a better life, they would settle in and send for other family members. Also, families that couldn’t afford to relocate or take an entire family trip would send their children out to those family members who moved away to keep the connection strong, and to expose their children to something more than their immediate neighborhood.

There was also a time when families had to work together to create businesses to meet the needs of their communities. Sons would follow in their father’s footsteps and take up daddy’s trade; daughters spent time shadowing mama to learn how to garden, cook, sew, and do hair; and all these things combined led to Black folks having a taste of economic independence by having our own stores, salons, restaurants – any business we wanted and were skilled in.

With our world so topsy turvy, now more than ever we need our family members, and we need to work with them to bring some of these traditions back. There’s no one like your blood – and though they can get on our nerves the most, they are also the ones who will love us when we’re sad, feed us when we’re hungry, and embrace us when we’ve fallen off our path.

Take care of your elders folks. Talk to them and get YOUR family history. Stay close to loved ones, today and everyday. After all, family is love.

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Black Men Revealed: The Problem or the Solution?

This morning I caught an episode of “Black Men Revealed” on TV One. The segment topic was cheating. Representing black men were an old cheater, a young “pretty boy”, a “reformed” cheater, and a man who is in a committed relationship. They initially began to reminisce about times they were caught cheating and how their partners reacted. The pretty boy bragged about how he had sex with the mother of one of his “Starting 5” ON Mother’s Day. He called it her “present”. Then he was heralded “the man” when he confessed his starter was so angry with him he felt obliged to put her twin sister in the game.

The men also discussed ways to avoid confrontation when their woman suspects them of cheating. One man revealed, quite proudly, that whenever his girl suspected something he turned it right back on her and accused her of cheating. He said she became so obsessed with proving her innocence she forgot all about his dirt.

I could go an and on about the ridiculous inferences made during the show, but it ended with the revelation that most men on the panel had been cheated on at one time or another. It was then I realized these men are no different than all the women who have been cheated on and are jaded because of it. These harsh realities have left men and women furious with one another, questioning the merit of monogamy and naturally mistrusting of others.

Optimistically speaking, the producers of the show had good intentions when providing a forum to discuss issues related to black males. Unfortunately, the show serves as a vehicle to reinforce stereotypes about black men, such as them being pimps, cheaters, users and abusers. The show leaves much to be desired. Rarely if at all was there mention of these men or women being WRONG when they cheated. Rarely if at all did they mention how their families were affected. Not once did one man say to another “we gotta do better”. Not once did they mention the rising number of HIV/AIDS infections and other STD’s. The show glorified cheating and portrayed men on the hunt as a part of natural selection. ANIMALS hunt multiple prey. Doesn’t man possess the ability to reason and control instincts?

Is “Black Men Revealed” the problem or the solution?

Haaaaay girl signing off.

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It Takes A Village…

This weekend my other half, Chris, and I had the arduous task of pulling off a birthday party for our 2-year old son, Eli. It would be our first official “kiddie” party, and in spite of whether or not Eli knew what was going on, we were determined that it be an event he and the other guests enjoyed. After reading a “how-to” article on throwing parties for kids, we decided to set an end time and make the party a short and sweet, 2-hour event.

We tried to keep party preparations within a budget, but as events tend to do, we overspent a little. An hour before the party we had transformed our backyard into a kiddie carnival: a slide, basketball hoop, a trike, and balls and hula-hoops were everywhere. But by the time the party was suppose to start, we had no guests.

I watched as Eli ran around the yard, oblivious to the fact that anybody was suppose to enjoy all the toys other than him. When 45 minutes had passed, he let it be known it was time to eat and Chris and I agreed. Of course, once we sat down to break bread, guests began to arrive.

Needless to say we went way past our two-hour plan, and didn’t notice or care. Once all of our loved ones had arrived safely, we were happy to spend time catching up and watching our children/godchildren interact. I sat back in awe of the folks in our backyard, most of which we had grown up and went to school with. It’s always amazing to think that we’ve sustained friendships long enough to now have families of our own.

In classic Black tradition, the kiddie party simmered on down into an adult party once the children wore themselves out. We spent a few hours having some amazing grown folk conversation, challenging each other on various Wii games, and just spending time together. Though Chris and I should have been worn out too, spending quality time with great friends renewed us, and gave us our second wind.

A good village does more than just raise children; it supports, uplifts, and upholds families. We are so grateful for the one we’ve been blessed with.

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A Fight at the Beach

I recently turned 19 and in celebration I had a bonfire at Dockweiler beach. About 15 of my closest friends came to celebrate and of course I was joined by a portion of my large family. My little cousins (the oldest being 7 and the youngest 2), my older cousins, aunt, uncle, and even my grandmother attended. Needless to say we were enjoying ourselves in celebration of my 19 years alive and healthy.

My mom’s side of the family is from Belize and my dad’s side is from Mississippi. My family doesn’t play into the stereotypes that exist about black families:  we don’t drinks, gang bang, fight, or smoke. With this being said of course we were completely caught off guard when we heard yelling and screaming while we were playing in the sand. When I turned around I immediately covered my mouth in awe because the sight was heart breaking. There it was a young black male and a young Latino FIGHTING in the middle of the beach. I was stunned! As I watched it felt like my family was fighting each other.

As Blacks and Latinos we are both offered the short end of the stick in America and the last thing we need to do is fight each other. We should work together to be offered the same end of the stick that other people are offered. Black is working together for a common goal. Black is setting a positive remodel for kids to look up to. Black is NOT senseless fighting and unnecessary embarrassment.