Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Witness 1: Broken Girl and Mr. Love Jones

Opposites...you know the rest...attract.  

Or, are opposites really not opposites ... but two very similar posers.  

This may be the case for the Broken Girl and Mr. Love Jones .  Modern urban anthropologists shooting the shit at every chance, throwing verses back and forth.  Underneath they secretly planned for the day when either would "find something better to do after work".  So far, nothing had come up, and Broken Girl and Mr. Love Jones dreaded time together, not because it was horrible, but because each day growing closer they feared having to part that much more.  

Broken Girl figured that she had fallen for Mr. Love Jones some time after college.  Randomly passing him on the street, with friends.  She tried her best to float by, slowly, giving him the chance to share a common breath.  Girl incountered a lot of his 'types' in that summer, it was fun to her...enjoying a newfound freedom, learning and understanding differences and .. commonalities (lol).  

As for Mr. Love Jones, yes...the Mr. Love Jones, he has always been to suave to admit to even the thought of catching feelings.  He's everywhere, all the time, listening in on conversations, speaking his mind, over-thinking, watching, organizing, writing, rapping, loving, singing, being...what more can I say?  He'll be the most charming...but in excess, he'll completely change your mind, he's the ultimate catalysts.   

So, back to what happens when they are together...basically on a daily basis for hours on end, neither one easily goes into the 'night hours' with the other.  It's as if they feel it mandatory to get time in together, so they get it over with, and continue with their "other regularly scheduled programming".  More times than not, they'll touch basis late in evening, a refresher and a confirmation that it will all go down again tomorrow.  

So...is tomorrow the day?

I'll tell you if I hear something

-black in the city

Monday, November 24, 2008

Help is not an option

Nobody Loves You When You’re Down and Out

When I got my job with a very well known Health Management company in Michigan it seems that my email was immediately flooded with resumes from “classmates” that I had barely talked to when I was in school…I’m talking high school “friends” and college “chummies” all magically got my email address and would send me their resumes along with some lame message saying 

“Hey Chris, whassup girlie.  

You know how it is out here, its hard.  

But listen, I heard you are at LOLLIPOP HEAVEN (name has obviously been changed) now.

 I attached my resume, do me a favor and pass it on for me.  If that’s possible.  Thanks, owe you one.”  

How in the world did I immediately go from “BRAND SPANKING NEW GIRL, WHO GETS LOST IN THE BUILDING EVERYDAY” to HR REPRESENTATIVE for all of the nobodies I didn’t speak to in high school and college.  But don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against a hook-up or a favor, but context and principal…has anyone ever heard of them?

Apparently not.  

Here's the part where I rant.

There is a trend in my community, one that involves the weird understanding (mental investment) that if one black person does something then they are obligated to keep that door open for everyone else, despite skill set and qualifications.  But is this really affordable?  I am not drop in the box of inspirations that our people have to pull from, but I see where many of our most presentable leaders have risen above the masses and assisted in lifting our people up, not by giving out random free jobs or money to those that want them (that’s how you get caught up, google search Kwame Kilpatrick) but these leaders present a message (either verbally or in their lifestyle) of hard work, dedication to a specific task and ultimately getting what you deserve, ofcourse the congregation-traits of or people is strong, and I don’t mind explaining to people how I got where I am, and they can follow suit, but I am not in the position to reprimand someone else’s  kids (no matter how I want to, especially in movie theaters and grocery stores), so why should I have to risk my “She’s new” status for someone who probably can’t pass the drug test, missed out on four credits and can’t produce a degree, has been fired due to the inability to come to work on time everyday (because, what are they doing for you, right?) well if that’s the mentality, I can’t deal with it…I won’t.  

For the past 16 years, I’ve been busting my hump, learning, working my way through college and never did I ever receive any kind of unscrupulous hand out, I walked for miles everyday…(lol, like your grandparents used to say), because my parents didn’t believe in cars, and I had to get home, to school, to one of my three jobs…even in college, I worked to keep up with the white kids and their massive amounts of cynically useless information (that the professors seem to love) .  Now don’t get me wrong, I asked for help, I cried for help, begged even.  But to no avail, my desperation went practically unnoticed (mostly because my classmates/friends and family where in the same or worst positions than I was).  

I began to live with a new mantra, HELP IS NOT AN OPTION.  Work hard, play to keep your sanity and work some more, these are my guidelines, my rules and I hold them close.  Am I wrong?

I think not, I'm BLACK in the City.  I have to work hard, get myself noticed, so that in the future people can look back and see that I did it, and yes it can be done, it just takes time, work and dedication, and no one owes you a thing, they may take it from you...and in that case, its hard out here, learn how to keep your $T%$ close, even if it stinks, its still yours.