Sister, You've Been On My Mind (National Sibling Day)

My memory is fairly tragic so I don't actually remember this happening, but I do recall my mother telling the story over and over again. Apparently I was around five or six which would have made my sister three or four at the time. A neighbor boy, let's call him BJ got one of those motorized cars and was driving it up and down the sidewalk. Sister and I were outside as well, being typical 90's kids, when BJ pulled up to me and asked if I wanted a ride.  Always overly cautious and apprehensive, I squirmed and puzzled over taking the ride. Before I could tell BJ my final decision, (probably that I wasn't going to go because “nigga are you a safe driver?!”) sister rushed past me and hopped into the car bellowing "I'LL GO!" And off they were, because that’s how sister was and still is, utterly unapologetic and fearless. 

We were pretty tight as kiddies (from what I can vaguely recall.) However, as a teen I became a complete turd. I found myself trying to separate myself from my sister. First weaseling away from our joint birthday parties, and then isolating myself in my room and becoming an insufferable miss-know-it-all. (May I just add that though I am no longer insurable, I still know it all.) Basically I was a complete BITCH and I can only assume it was due to hormones and the fact that my sister has always been cooler and more badass then me.  I was trying to acquire my own identity outside of the one we had together. (Maybe if you spoke to her she would say otherwise but this is my platform so... I win.)

Summer 2013,  just our regular ish

Luckily high school went as swiftly as it came and hormones seem to balance themselves out.  Partially because I was no longer a raging troll and probably because its now just her and me; sister and I have become two peas in a pod. We are two very different peas, but there is no one on this earth with whom I’m more in sync. (Sorry other homies, lover and friends.) Furthermore as of late a peculiar thing has happened. Sister has taken on the role of big sister. (Yes I'm the BIG SISTER!! even though I'm shorter and more child-like, I am FIRST BORN.)

My entry (and hers as well) into adulthood has been tumultuous to say the least. I've buried both of my parents, dealt with money and legally documents that I will probably never understand.  I’ve sold a house, started and quit three jobs, cried a lot, saw a therapist, smiled a ton and have generally felt overwhelmed and confused on a daily basis. Since I held the status of elder sister, (or Head Bitch in Charge as I would rather it be termed) and I generally tolerate people more than Sister, many of these things fell on my lap. There was no roadmap or warning and I've spent the majority of the last couple of years figuring ish out and piecing it together. It’s really too much for anyone to deal with especially a “baby-adult”. Needless to say, in the last year I've thrown in the towel and sister has picked up all of my slack.

A page from my scrapbook

I can't count the number of times I've called her in tears, or in a general state of panic and confusion. She has been my voice of reason, my confidant, my adult girlfriend, my editor and most of all my champion. Her words of encouragement have helped me punch my insecurities in the face and to do what is best for ME. Her advice hasn't always been rosey, (sister is the type who will tell you where to go and then provide you a roadmap of how to get there) but she has always told me the truth with my best interests at heart.

So on this National Sibling Day I want to say thank you to my little big sister. You are the true witch and I am a mere squib.

"When we were young we were brave but we didn't know it..."

#LiveForYou

xoxoxoxo Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox

PS. Sister, sorry for humiliating you with this post.

"Hey Black Girl" Part 1: Growing Up Dark

Me, Daddy and Sister :)

Two years ago in one of my very first post for this blog, I wrote about my opinion on the trailer for the documentary "Dark Girls" that had  recently hit the net.

You can read that post here Thoughts on the Dark Girls Trailer.  I basically wrote what I thought about the 8 min clip having not actually seen the film in its entirety.

Two years later, the documentary had finally finally premier on  the OWN network and I'm here to write my reviews and opinions about what I saw as well as including my own experience as a very dark Black women

My foundation color is NW55 at MAC if that means anything do you. I got my coloring from my Nigerian Daddy. He and I were actually the exact same color so as a tot up until probably second grade I really didn't feel one way or another about my complexion (Now my hair was another story, I struggled with that for the first 21 years of my life). But back to being dark, my parents and family always made me feel loved and supported so their was never an issue at home. When I walked into a room my daddy would smile wide and say "Hey Black Girl" it thrilled me. He did that for as long as I can remember. Darkness and Blackness was never a derogatory word in my home. My mom and little sister were more of a toffee color but it was never acknowledged as a difference which is why when I got to about second grade I got my first real taste of colorism from my fellow classmates.

One of the moments that stands out to me the most was when a girl asked me why the inside of my hands were so Black. She said it with disgusts as if I was dirty and didn't wash my hands on a regular basis.  I'm not really a timid person but I've always been non-confrontational and I believe that was one of those defining moments where I didn't stick up for myself which became pattern; something I still struggle with. In elementary school I had great friends, and I remember being generally well-liked by everyone. However, the most popular girls in my class were lighter skinned, they were the cool ones that the boys liked, the one's whose parents were less strict and so forth. They could also be mean girls if given half the chance. Overall though, elementary school was relatively painless for me save a few incidents over the years. I was lucky because my school was teeny tiny and we pretty much had all been together since kindergarten.

Elementary School

I was in for a rude awakening when I got to middle school. Now my middle school situation was tragic to say the least.  To be honest, I don't remember much. I'm certain I've suppressed some memories because they were traumatizing. After leaving my tiny grammar school, I spent my 7th and 8th grade years at a huge high school with a ton of different types of kids. I was fairly sheltered so this was my first experience in the "real world".  Middle school was were I got my street smarts, sex education and the like. I remember being terrorized by one boy in particular who used to call me ugly because I was dark pretty much every day of seventh grade.  He finally stopped at the end of the year when  I politely hit him in the head with our history text book which sent him flying down the stairs.

Another boy asked me why I wore so much color. He said I was way too dark to be wearing bright colors and that I should stick to neutrals.  Once again these were just a few of the defining moments that I can recall, but there were always side comments or little slights from lighter skinned people who I considered to be my friends and confidants. It was as if jabbing at me would somehow improve their self worth. Stupidly, as we all are at thirteen, I refused to discuss these happenings with my mother and instead I internalized everything that was happening around me.

Needless to say I was thrilled to leave behind that environment when I got into a multiracial high school across the city. It was here where I would learn to interact with people of all races and backgrounds. Unfortunately however, by 9th grade my self-esteem was pretty shot.

High school was a much more pleasant experience than middle school. I quickly found friends and activities to be involved in. However, two instances of ignorance still stick out to me. In 9th grade I tried out for the cheer-leading squad and made it. At first, I was really excited about it. I was enthusiastic and looked forward to the practices and the games. However, my coach was a nightmare. She was an overweight woman about my complexion who used to give us all hell. However, when she came for me me it was often to tease me about my name or make some snide comment that led me to believe that she was color-struck. Overall the woman was ignorant and I quit the squad by the second semester.

When I was 16 I got my first boyfriend and all of the drama that came along with that. I remember chatting with a couple of girlfriends at lunch about him. A guy from my class came up to the table and exclaimed "You have a boyfriend?!!! But you're so Black!!"  (He was dead ass) My friends were horrified and I brushed the comment off in the moment. But I was really hurt by it. I later told my boyfriend at the time, and  he said "Well, I love dark girls" LOL and that was that.  In high school myself esteem continued to be on the mend. Still, there were times when I downed my self based on my complexion (ie: He cheated on me because I'm dark...so on and so forth).  Luckily with age comes wisdom, growth and understanding.

Prom :) (I skipped middle school because, Lord I looked a fool)

Fortunately throughout my college years and into adulthood, I've had very little combative statements that have been said about my color, but their have been a couple. Once a Black guy in undergrad told me I was the prettiest dark skin girl he'd ever seen ;/. I'm not so timid now so I'm sure I  politely read him for filth. Once in class a white guy pointed me out and used my darkness and an example in his statement. My prof (a young Black man) ridiculed him as did my fellow classmates so I just got to sit pretty. Attending a predominantly white university really erases the color spectrum on some levels and you're labeled "Black" regardless of complexion

College Graduation

I've never had a problem with attracting men (well maybe the right kind of men LOL) but most of the guys I've dated seem to have a preference for darker skinned women. I've also recently been getting approached by ALOT more white men.  When I went to Jamaica last summer, it was like the men were obsessed with dark skin women it was kind of ridiculous.

I think overall, I've been pretty blessed in dealing with my status as a "dark girl", I've definitely embraced it over the years. Once I stopped buying into degrading nonsense about my skin I've found that my life has gone much more smoothly. This is not to say that I don't at times have moments of foolish insecurity.

I suppose the thing that continues to dig at me has to do with some Black men's take on Dark skinned Black women. For one thing, I think that Dark skin Black men are some of the most desired people on this earth which is why it's so peculiar that dark skinned black women are degraded and looked down upon.  Let me just say, I could never fault a brotha for his preference. You're attracted to whom you are attracted to (heck,I think both Kevin McCall and John Slatterly are sexy as hell) For me I just enjoy men. What I find disturbing is when Black men start claiming they want a red bone this or a light skin that (Like boy, what does that even men??!?!?!) . Or even more hilarious when you see them in the neighborhood with a non-Black woman and their avoiding eye contact with any Black women they may come across.  Negro please!!!

Preference is preference but I think its so disheartening for Black men to degrade dark and/or Black women especially because they came from one, and any daughter that they may have will be one.  ASAP Rocky and Lil Wayne's opinions on women are irrelevant to me as a person with an IQ and I wouldn't be caught dead with anyone who values the colorist and sexist remarks that they put forth.  Overall, I think the best that anyone of us can do for ourselves it to live a life that we're proud of, one that makes us happy and that's what I strive to do on a daily basis. Everything else is gravy because as my mama use to say, "All I gotta do is stay Black and die"  ;)

Me being exactly who I am with my chocolate ass foundation in my hand :D

So I'll say to my fellow dark girls and to all women and people who are living in this hetero-normative, white centric society. Embrace yourself and do what makes you happy. Life's way too short for any nonsense and if you don't love yourself I promise you, no one else will.

xoxox Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox

PS. Stay tuned for Part II on the documentary itself

In my Mother's house, there's a photograph of a day gone past...always makes me laugh.

Home

Once again like I always do, I will ask that you excuse me for slipping into oblivion. I have a legitimate excuse this time.  a lot has happened, much has changed, things have shifted. By the skin of my narrow Black ass I manage to finished my Master's classes with A's and B's (some I deserved and some I didn't). Once again I find myself back in my hometown. The the place where I grew up is forever changing and yet, always the same. Its strange being here again, surrounded by memories, and moments just out of reach in this empty house. I'm not alone, not really, my sister is ever present, my family is in and out helping us pack up and purge and reminisce. But its not the same as it once was,not really. My dad isn't in the den on the green leather couch watching Pride and Prejudice on an endless loop. Its Sunday today, so my mama would have been making pancakes, loudly laughing on the phone, gossiping with some sister or some friends. Its not quite noon yet so I would have just been waking, the smells of butter and sausages would have assaulted my senses drifting upward into my third floor lair.

Instead, I've been up for hours. It cold here and silent. Though my favorite season is rapidly approaching I've been fiddling with the thermostat this last week or so. When I yell up to my sister about this thing or that the echo of my voice beams through the house. An echo that hadn't been there before. Its empty because they're gone. They've left this world.

I remember before my mom passed nearly three years ago I had a lot of fears. Like small anxieties that would burden my heart (I randomly developed a fear of flying and I was scared to drive on the highway because I was sure that I was going to get hit by a truck.) After she passed none of those fears consumed me anymore. There wasn’t much left that could hurt me, that could affect me so drastically. My dad passed just over three months ago. Ironically, I’ve been on more planes than I can think this year and its only May. My reactions to both of my parents deaths are strange and honestly I feel like I don’t speak about them much. My mom passed and I had to be be back at school nine days later. I was going into my junior year in college. I got the call about my dad in between my two mandatory three hours Master’s film studies classes. I hopped on a plane shortly thereafter. It was a Tuesday, I was back in class Monday. I didn’t really cry with my dad, still haven’t shed too many tears. Maybe its because I feel that funerals are these contrived things, like people carry on and on and act so upset but I think to myself, where was all this emotion when the person was living.

            I guess the real reason that I'm writing this post is because, people go through things, but the world keeps turning, The city wakes from its slumber, holidays and birthdays and heartbreak and vacations and the whole still come and go year after year.   What's left behind after a person leaves is just their stuff. I've pulled out trinkets and china sets and clothing from the eighties and pictures of my mom's old boyfriends and sing-along from my childhood. And they've stacked up. In the kitchen, living room, dining room, basement.  Things long forgotten about or things simply meant to be displayed, never touched, or handled or really seen.  These things just become stuff, some things sentimental and worth saving and others better off with someone who really needs them. Some family that could really make use of them.

I've been dreading coming back here, probably since my mother died. My parents were mini- hoarders and the house is large enough to hold a lot of stuff without it outwardly appearing cluttered. In these last two weeks My sister and I have waded our way through the books and the paintings and the nick knacks. Strangely, though its been difficult, we haven't felt the need to keep much because I guess we know that this wasn't them, not really.

A part of me is itching to get back to New York, to my life and my apartment away from the things left behind. And another part, albeit a smaller part never wants to leave this place, the laughter and Christmas parties and the teenage standoffs between my mama and myself. My dad praying in the background or reading his Qu'ran. It was always home even when it got really bad.  It'll never be the same though.  I just bag things up and wrap the fragiles with care. And as this old life fades, this childhood days, these memories, I think how lucky I've been and all the experiences that have yet to come.  I try not to dwell in sadness or negativity, because that's more crippling than the empty house and the cold spaces.

The house will be on the market soon, so these are probably some of the last weeks I'll spend in it. I've only ever lived here (Until I moved for college and grad school). I think what I've learned out of losing both of them is how to let go, of bad memories and meaningless things, and people who weigh you down. Because life is too short and so precious. Why waste it grasping on to what is no longer there or even worse what was never there to begin with.

Instead I'll remember this

I stayed with some beads in my head lol. They even had the foil at the end.

and this

Look at sister!! LMAO she's exactly the same.

and when I hand over the keys to a new family where they can grow and share their memories, it'll be a tough day but I won't regret it.  I've somehow managed to press on, to build a full life for myself and the best thing I know to do for them is continue to live it.

xoxoxox Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxox