For Colored Girls

So, I am not a huge fan of Tyler Perry's films; however, I do try to support as he has opened many doors for aspiring African-American filmmakers. Though (in my opinion) his films have either been over/under acted, full of stereotypes (buffoonery/coonery), or just plain lackluster, I went into this film with an open mind. Disclaimer: I have never seen the play and only read a small portion of the choreo-poem prior to seeing the film.

I respect Perry's ambition in this film. Some of the performances left something to be desired, but that wasn't totally unexpected for me. There were, however, some stellar performances. Green could not have been played by anyone other than Loretta Devine. I was pleasantly surprised by Thandie Newton, as I am not particularly a fan of hers. Whether or not the movie was a good translation of the original work and whether or not it was well acted, the movie will hopefully nudge us toward open and honest communication.

As with Precious, I was somewhat conflicted about uncovering our shameful secrets for the whole world to see. And just as with Precious, the argument remains that even though these images/story lines reinforce negative stereotypes, these things still happen. While discussing the film in the car with Hope, I had an epiphany... Some wounds have to air out in order to heal. I remember I once had a sore that just would not scab over. My grandmother told me I had to take the band-aid off and let it breathe. So many things are stigmatized in the black community. People are afraid to seek therapy because they don't want to be labeled as crazy. People are afraid to be honest about who they are because they don't want to be ostracized and called ugly names. Folks hide behind religion instead of dealing with reality and their own crap. WAKE UP PEOPLE! We're unhealthy because we keep our issues surpressed.

I also read and heard reviews stating the movie was all about man-bashing. In regards to man bashing... I'm bashed every time I flip past BET and see some scantily clad young lady who thinks she has to be objectified in order to become successful. And that she's been conditioned to believe that being featured in a video that objectifies will make her successful is even more offensive. I'm am also bashed every time I turn on the radio and hear a song that demeans me as a woman. So, whatever!

Some critics disliked how Perry weaved in the poetry from the play with the regular, often simple script, reasoning that his audiences would not like it. I think they don't give us enough credit. It was different and intriguing. During those segments I really had to pay attention to make sure I garnered the message. We're black, not simple.

At any rate, thumbs up to Tyler Perry! I hope that he continues to evolve and make stories that portray more aspects of relationships in the African-American community. And I'm off my soap box. Until next time...

Sticks and Stones...

may break my bones, but words hurt worse and have a much longer-lasting effect. At least that's what that old nursery rhyme/adage should say. Who can not recall, with specificity, the time they were bullied mercilessly on the school bus or at the bus stop? Who doesn't remember that ugly nickname that stuck with them all the way from elementary to middle school? Mine, you may ask... Celestial Kumquat... (Yeah, made absolutely no sense back then either. Think the boy who gave it to me had a crush on me.) I can certainly remember all of the times I was the butt of the joke, but I also remember passing that same cruelty on to other children as I grew up and became more popular.

We teach our children they should not let the words of others hurt them, their pride, or their self-esteem. It's funny that we say that to them, but we still carry the hurt and shame of the hurtful, often hateful, words of others. We don't only carry it from childhood bullies, but we carry it from parents, friends, ex-lovers, teachers, boss's, etc... Those hurts saturate us to the very core and are often manifested in our behaviours, but we fail to make the connection. The connection is where the healing begins and with healing comes freedom. When you are healed, you are able to let it go, forgive and sometimes even forget.

I'm thankful for the scars left on me by others. They help make me who I am. And to borrow from a beautifully written book I recently read, scars are beautiful because they mean the person wearing them has survived. I have survived. I am also thankful that I am learning to forgive and yes, even sometimes forget! Maybe that is the greater lesson that we must strive to teach our children. The hurtful words are often not even about you; you must forgive them; it hurts, but you will survive; and you must learn that you determine you're worth, no one else has that power (unless you give it to them). Maybe it's just one of those things you don't understand until you have matured... And I'm off my soap box. Until next time...

Love,
Celestial

Who decides the standard?

Somewhere in a Middle Eastern or North African country a mother is squeezing one of her daughter's feet between two wooden rods and administering pain in order to force-feed her girl child milk; A practice also known as gavage. Somewhere in Kenya a young girl is losing her clitoris because female circumcision makes her an eligible bachelorette. And somewhere in the United States, a teenager is sticking her finger down her throat to make herself vomit so she can achieve or maintain a thin waist.

Who gets to decide that the results of these painful and often unhealthy practices are desirable and why are the targets of the practices always women? I tried many different searches for customs or traditions where men underwent such practices and you guessed it; I was hard-pressed to find even one!

I live in a culture where most of the woman that grace television screens, movie screens and magazine covers don't look like me. The "average" woman is grossly under-represented, but largely pressured to meet unrealistic standards.

I choose to set the standard for me. I have some things about my body I would like to change, but it's still beautiful. I don't have to straighten my hair to fit in. I don't have to use skin lighteners to make others feel comfortable or less threatened by my strength. I don't have to wear a size 4 to be sexy. Unfortunately, it's not as easy as just saying the words when I am inundated with images quite to the contrary. Positive self-talk is a skill I will have to cultivate.

Who sets the standard for you? I hope it's you! Until then, these are just my thoughts and I'm off my soap box.

Shout out to those who promote women finding the beauty in themselves, the Dove Self-Esteem fund and makers of films such as Real Women Have Curves!

Christian Hate - An oxymoron, you would think...

It was hard for me to start writing about this particular topic, especially as my first blog. I started and stopped, erased and rewrote more than once. The story of Lance Corporal Matthew Snyders' family has really had me angry over the past couple of days and so, to release that negative energy, I decided to write about it.

For anyone who does not know what happened, check out this story: http://www.freep.com/article/20100406/OPINION05/4060317/1068/opinion/Ruling-offends-sense-of-right (copy and paste)

O.K., now that you've read it... If we all agree that God is love, where is the love in this group's actions? If Jesus was sent as the ultimate display of how love works, how is their behavior akin to the example he set?

These protesters came to this soldier's funeral and held up signs that said, Thank God for Dead Soldiers and God Hates Your Tears. They carried explicit pictures of men engaged in sexual acts. Fred Phelps, the leader of this "church", believes that the death of our soldiers is punishment, handed down from God, as a result of them fighting for a country that allows gay marriage.

Cpl. Snyder was not gay. Even if he was, would his funeral be the proper place to address your personal issues/beliefs in regards to gay marriage? If Jesus was loving, compassionate, and kind, wouldn't the "christian" response to this family's grief and pain be to comfort them and love them in their time of need? If you truly believed this soldier's death was a result of punishment, is a "christian" supposed to pour salt on a wound or are they supposed to tend to it, all the while praying that God heals it?

You can dislike someones choices, beliefs, religion, or sexual orientation, but doesn't your choice to be a "christian" require you to love? That is the greatest commandment. I don't know about anyone else, but if someone reflected love by kicking me when I'm down, I don't know how likely I would be to get up, dust myself off, and follow them or the God they serve and claim to mirror.

I hope to see the day when all "Christians" truly represent God and love. Until then, these are just my thoughts and I'm off my soap box.