Dear big and little brothers.
Y’all so beautiful.
The beauty of who God created you to be inspires me.
Brown, black, light bright, caramel.
I love my brothers. And I’m wise enough to know that all attractions are not to be acted upon. Especially right now, as I nurse my healing heart. I’m chill but I’m appreciative.
Not books, not just educated, but intelligent. Those that seek out knowledge for yourselves without a professor to guide the way. Letting God light your path.
See a woman’s job is to carry seed, nurture, develop into what the seed is destined to become. That’s why so many daughters are lost and so many sons are failing. It’s the woman you chose to carry your seed.
But anyway. It’s about knowledge. When a brotha drops knowledge the woman is supposed to take that knowledge, apply it, let wisdom come which is in fact applied knowledge. And turn that seed into something great. Like Michelle Obama or whatever.
I guess that’s why my first love often referred to me as his Wis. Short for wisdom.
Now that’s really dope!
My last blog though. I meant it. They say the truth ain’t pretty.
And many, many ugly things have happened to me at the hands of a black man.
It was my brother that first yeah, we won’t go into that.
It was my brother that first told me I was too black so I couldn’t be pretty.
It was my brother who lied on me to save his own neck in a religion he can’t even be a part of today.
It was my brother who let me accidently see naked pictures of his other woman in his camera.
It was my brother who attacked my momma while I was a baby hitting me and pulling the knife out to terrify her.
It was my brother who pulled out not one but two guns to steal my jewelry.
It was my brother that came into my home and stole all my things.
It was my brother who had me on my pregnant belly choking the life out of me, threatening her life.
It was my brother who lied about his marriage.
It was my brother who said he was a straight man, but the gay porn he was constantly looking up I couldn’t compete with. Sorry I’m such an ispy. That computer child monitor told all his business.
It was my brother who ruined my relationship by telling me details about him and my guy I never wanted to know, if they were true or not only God knows.
See I love those who look like me. But we gotta do better. Now I know who my brothers are.
Mark 3:33 - 35 33“Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked.
34 Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35 Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”
That’s right. They weren’t my brothers at the time, but some have become by changing their hearts and mind sets.
These are just facts.
And yet I love my real brothers still. Because everyone should be given a fair chance to be judged based on their own actions.
Just like the people who don’t look like my race of brothers.
Not everyone is our enemy. It’s the truth, some people don’t love us the way we want to be loved, and some of us struggle with loving ourselves.
But if we never address these things how do we get better? How do we help the next generation? Some of my brothers never get a fair shake at being better because brothers say they keeping their brothers, but only if they have a certain level of education, or in a certain frat, or has the potential and promise they see of value.
But what about the brother whose potential has been so deeply buried it takes binoculars with a bifocal lense to see it? Does he just get lost by the wayside?
Even with all those experiences I still love my brothers. I’m still friends and talk to on occasion some of the brothers from above, because we forgive, we walk in love and love does not seek its own interests or keep account of the injury. I remind because of the testimony in the power of forgiveness. God did that!
Proverbs 10:12 Hatred stirs up conflict,
but love covers over all wrongs.
If everything was dipped in gold, then baby we would never grow. Everything sweet ain’t sugar coated. (Jhene aiko) cause life for me ain’t been no crystal stair (Langston Hughes)
It’s time we grow. Sisters be accountable for sisters, and brothers being accountable for brothers.
It’s the only way for us as blacks to grow. Helping each of us be better. Everyone has the potential for change. Like a second chance program for those that society has thrown away.
CTA has one for my chicago brothers just in case you need one.
I mean look at David! Had he not been given his second chance we wouldn’t even be able to study the wisdom in Proverbs because without David there would have been no Solomon!
Proverbs 9:8 8 Do not rebuke mockers or they will hate you;
rebuke the wise and they will love you.
This generation just needs to see something to look up to. Wise men.
So my brother. Find you a wife, one God tells you or shows you is just for you. So you can find favor with God. Be consistent. Be faithful. Create family. Live life in love. And then be a mentor to one of the block boys. Show them the fruit that comes from having one wife and loving and listening to God. I talk to them all the time in passing. They just a group of black men marginalized to a certain lifestyle because mommas and pops never had enough to show them something else besides the hood. If they believe it’s possible for them to get out they might just strive for greater. I know firsthand. I’ve been a voice of possibility and saw escape for one or two.
But I’m only a woman. I desire to be the change I want to see in the world.
So no. I wasn’t dissing my brothers. I am never against my brothers.
My BFF lets me tell him things I have never told another soul. My beautiful crush reminded me that my beauty is in my blackness. My fathers son dreams of millionaire moves and conducts trains and moves up ladders in his company and he was once a block boy. My grandfather feeds the men struggling with addictions that come to his door, whether it be in knowledge or the hard earned money he been working for since he was a mere child.
I love the good in my brothers, and as much as I know there are good and bad in my own race, I acknowledge there is good and bad in every race. So I can’t be pro anyone. Or anti everyone. I have to just love. God is the final judge, he knows the heart and the struggle of those with a desire to change.
I know the beauty of our struggle. The pride we love to hold onto. But how do we hold onto pride and humble ourselves and seek Gods face for him to heal our land at the same time?
Maybe it’s time to let go of pride. He’s (pride) the King of a land called offense.
Live, love and draw close to each other.
Maybe you my brother reading this have looked at me and not spoken a time or two, and I don’t hold onto that rejection. I give it to God and keep moving.
So dear brother. I never meant to offend. I love all. I may have a hard time showing it in my state of healing, but I hate to impose myself on those who haven’t called for me to come into their space.
We can be ebetter. I believe God. So I’ll keep praying and asking for wisdom to walk with me. Because it is only with wisdom that we will truly learn how to deal with and treat one another.
And in order to rebuild we, we need that desperately!