I'm Black Ya'll! - a book review

A few thoughts on Tomi Adeyemi’s Children of Blood and Bone:

This book is so BLACK! AND I LOVE IT!!! It is spewing with #blackgirlmagic from page 1.  Upon cracking the spine of this book, every Black woman that reads it can feel a connection to Zelie Adebola that she won’t get from the likes of Katniss Everdeen or Bella Swan.  We feel Zelie’s hair, we feel Zelie’s mother-figure of a teacher, and we feel her presumed nemesis.  We think back to the day we embraced our natural hair, the auntie that had permission to whoop our tail, and the girl down the street that stared at us when we walked to the corner store. This book was written for us and I am here for it!

After we make it pass the initial shock of very literally being in the book, we realize there is a rich story to be experienced.  Children of Blood and Bones is the story of the maji of the fictional country of Orisha.  Zelie is a diviner.  She is a young would-be maji.  Sadly, her people’s magic has been stripped away for years now.  When it is discovered that magic may have returned to Orisha, Zelie goes on a quest to restore the glory of magic to her people.

I was enthralled from beginning to end.  I wanted the maji to win!  I had to see how it would end.  That meant that I had to read a 523-page novel.  Wow! I did that (in eight days!!!)!  That is one heck of a feat for me.  But… I was committed.  When I heard about this book and its anticipated movie, I was intrigued.  I was intrigued by this young African-American author.  Tomi Adeyemi is a graduate of Harvard, daughter to Nigerian parents, and this was her debut work.  She was offered a movie deal BEFORE the book was even released.  Can we scream #blackgirlmagic again!?!!? I will: BLACK GIRL MAGIC!! YESSS!!!  Ms. Adeyemi was compelled to write this series by the ever present story line of unarmed Black Americans being killed by law enforcement.  Knowing this, I expected a story that would hit hard.  I was not disappointed. 

Here is just a short list of the dichotomies that are scattered throughout the book.  I do believe that this list entails why some of our non-Black fellow readers may not appreciate this book the way that Black folk will.  If you have no experience with these dichotomies, you may be lost. 

good hair vs. bad hair

light skin vs. dark skin

upper class vs. middle class

police vs. Black Lives Matter

woke vs. Sunken Place

Now, I have told you as much as I can without spoilers. Would you please go out and get the book, order it online, or download the audio.  I’m going to need you to check it out so we can talk about it.  

Dr. Elgrie J. Hurd, III: Fear of Failure

Whose Dream are You Funding:  Success or Failure?

I am honest enough to say I want the world for my daughter. And why wouldn't I?! As a parent I want my children to experience success. I want them to have access to the things that interest them.  The hope is that my perception of their interests are actually legit. How do I verify that I am right?  I don't want to be that parent to push my dreams on my daughter (or my sons).

I want my daughter to work for her dreams.  At the same time I struggle to determine how to support her to embrace the possibility of failure.  I do not pretend everything will work out the way she plans.  But, I do not want her to fear failure.  I want to show her not to fear failure. For my daughter to live out her dreams she will have to be bold.  Sometimes she will have to be her biggest fan (even bigger than me).  Naysayers have to be ignored and her faith in what she has to do has to be strong. Unfortunately, atychiphobia lingers in so many of us. Atychiphobia is a fear of failure.

I started this blog post over a month ago and I became discouraged.  I hit some roadblocks.  My GoFundMe account hit a stagnant point. I received 41% of my goal through my GoFundMe, and via donations sent to me in the mail.  But I knew it was not enough.  People had stopped donating, and my asking went from being patient to being a little embarrassed.  There were other people with other needs.  Who am I to keep pestering people about getting assistance to pay for my dissertation?  Fear of failure had set it.  I told myself my fundraising campaign was a failure.  And once fear kicks in, negative thoughts take over.

Maybe this dissertation thing is not for me. I mean, I have done a lot; I know my title does not define me.  I have a wife and 4 kids.  Maybe my focus needs to be on other things.  Maybe I should have started my dissertation earlier in my life.  On February 8th, that changed.

Around 7:34AM on February 8th I got another message.  It was a game changer. It read “Dr. Hurd!  Get used [to] hearing it!  I pray that you are able to continue your study.  Your family in Pittsburg and their friends are very proud of you! Go get ‘em!” Attached to that message was a financial donation toward my campaign.  

I needed that!  It made me challenge the fear of failure that haunts me daily.  My journey is my journey.  What works for me is uniquely designed for me.  If I continue to compare myself to others and their success, I will not find my own.  Fear of Failure is designed to get people to compare; compare to others, instead of the progress one is making on their journey.  The other part of the Fear of Failure is to blind you from how you overcame how that can inspire others.  Failures are often necessary for the successful results you want.  The other part of the Fear of Failure is to blind you from how you overcame, and how that can inspire others.  I am approaching my 40s and I am NOT giving up on the dreams I began to pursue when I was 18. 

Just like me, my daughter knows what she wants to do and she has a long journey ahead.  She wants to design clothes to change the world.  The fashion industry can be tough; she will have failures.  I hope by overcoming my own Fear of Failure, I will help her be fearless.  I do not want her to fear failure; I want her to learn from failure.  I want her to learn over and over again. 

Black Women Deal Differently

So I've been thinking about this gymnastics case recently. That was some really sad goings on. But ... here's what I was thinking about: 

Gabby Douglas and Simone Biles. Two young Black women in an elite class of their sport. Neither one of them chose to present an impact statement in court (correct me if I'm wrong). Simone Biles said that she was busy (among other things said) and she didn't want to be taken back to that place. I totally respect that. Hearing her say that made me think about the idea that Black women tend to "move on." We find ourselves in tough situations and we accept that it has happened and we move on to the next goal that we HAVE TO accomplish. To some that seems like we're always "tough" or like we don't deal with our emotions. But ... in reality, it's a safety mechanism that Black women have had to perfect for centuries. Think about that. Our children are stolen from us, and we have to get up in the morning to care for someone else's children (with loving hands and hearts). Our husbands are taken from us, and we have to get up in the morning and clean someone's home (with care to protect their linens). This is not new to Black women - this idea of moving on. 
So ... as I'm scrolling thru the internets today, I heard something that Will Smith said (it kind of surprised me). "Responsibility and fault do not go together." These girls and women that suffered at the hands of this terrible person are not at fault for what happened to them. They are, however, responsible for their own success. They have to figure out what they need to do to survive and thrive in this life. 
I'm glad that women are speaking up. I also respect the women that made the choice to be training in the gym while some others chose to make impact statements. The responsibility for their lives is their own. They don't owe that monster one thing.

In case you missed it, here is a link  about the gymnastics case.   

Baby Phoenix

This picture pretty much sums up my emotions about Monday night.

Sunday night! My water broke! It broke in a major way.  You know how you can be watching a silly tv show and a pregnant woman all of a sudden drops a huge jug of water out of her dress? Well... I always thought that was ridiculous tv nonsense.  I had never met anyone that described their water breaking in this way.  Well... turns out, it's not so fake.  That happened to me. I'm standing in the kitchen preparing dinner.  I feel a slight contraction coming on, so I pause.  Suddenly I feel and hear a pop.  The floor is immediately saturated beneath me and it just keeps going.  Because I always have my cell phone with me, I grabbed my phone off of the counter and called my midwife right away. Elgrie grabbed the towels.  As you can see from the pile, we needed quite a few.  

Roxanne, the midwife, didn't need much more information aside from my description of my water breaking.  She assured me that she was on her way.  She arrived less than 30 minutes later.  My parents were our next call and they headed on over also.  

After Roxanne arrived and assessed the situation, we commenced waiting.  As this was not my first VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean), we were cautious to be prepared.  My previous VBAC progressed very quickly - as in, just about 4 hours.  Even though we were cautious, that would not be the case with Baby Phoenix.  Roxanne arrived, my parents arrived, everyone was in place.  I was not having regular contractions so we decided to find a movie and relax.  We watched a little tv and went to sleep.  Everyone found a spot to rest for the night. Elgrie told the kids that he'd wake them if anything happened that night.

Monday morning - breakfast.  We carried on with the day with the hopes of meeting our child soon.  Still, there were no regular contractions.  Fast forward to Monday evening around 6:30 pm.  Roxanne asked if I'd be ok with her checking my cervical progress (the first time throughout the pregnancy).  I was hesitant because I know that once you make contact in that way, you're inviting potential bacteria.  Roxanne was very sensitive to this.  I decided to go ahead and let her check.  After 26 hours, I had only dilated to 2 centimeters.  Crushing!!

That was all I could take at that moment.  I decided to go to sleep and deal with it in a few hours.  Elgrie came into the room a little later, got the news from Roxanne, and asked what I needed from him.  Prayer! He prayed and I closed my eyes to sleep.  I did not sleep.  That was around 8:30 pm Monday night.  

Contractions hit hard and heavy! I have no idea how the time passed so fast, but I know that I was contracting, Roxanne was offering counter pressure, and then the pool was getting filled up.  What is happening?  I was only at a 2!  Yeah, that doesn't always mean doom.  So... while I was moaning and groaning thru rapid and continual contractions, Elgrie was filling the birthing pool.  Somewhere in this window, Roxanne called her team.  Debbie and April arrived just as I was entering the not-yet-full pool.  I can only remember having about six contractions in the water before I knew there was more to the feeling that I was experiencing.  

Roxanne gave me the ok to push if I needed to.  I did!  She got her long gloves on and pulled out the flashlight and mirror.  She checked on the effects of my pushing.  She told me to reach down and feel my baby.  Boy did I!! There was a head of hair in my hand. Whoa!!  Two more hard pushes and we were holding our son!  Elgrie got to catch his son! That was awesome! He handed the baby off to me before we knew what we had.  I reached in between those little baby legs and was shocked to discover a little willy.  We were just so sure we'd have a girl.  Nope! The joke was on us.  No matter.  We're so ready to be the parents of of 3 boys!  He's awesome!  

We were able to fulfill a dream.  We are holding a dream.  We are super blessed!!  
There are just too many pictures to describe them all.  I think you can get the big picture, right? 

If you're in DFW and need a midwife, check her out. She's so lovely. 
roxanneandersonmidwife.com

I know he looks like he's crying.  He was not.  He did not cry until several hours later.  He was so calm the entire time.

This man!! He was beat after an emotional ride!  He did not wake up until about 6 am.