"Taking It On the Chin"

I try not to get too vested in any institution in the South because of its innate “good ol’boy” atmosphere; however, an article regarding cutting needed programs in schools for struggling students in South Carolina struck a chord. I am for effective, equitable, and fair education for every child, and equitable work environments for their teachers.

A couple of years ago, Jim Rex, former SC Superintendent of Education, stated he was asking the State’s teachers to “take it on the chin” because they would not get any raises due to the State’s budget, and they did as they have been doing for years. In some past news article, a couple of principals in South Carolina are quoted as stating “teachers need to be more enthusiastic”, “they will just have to do more with less, and that “teachers will have to pick up the slack”. Newsflash!!! Teachers have been doing the above for years to help students, and that’s pretty hard to do when, even to be a mediocre teacher, it requires that you have to spend at least $500 of your own money to properly equip your classroom for instruction. If you’re not in a district like Fort Mill (#1 District in SC), don’t count on parents being able to supply you with copy paper, etc., or volunteer hours. Teachers spend $500 of a salary that has been cut due to mandatory furlough days, no step raises (consistent), and, for many, competing student loan payments for their education. Teachers have been managing the impending financial crisis of their families due to the above cuts, and have been managing to teach our children with less money, less district support, and more demands and criticism from all angles.

“Teachers have to be more enthusiastic? Really? The principals quoted have long forgotten the drawbacks of the trade. Teachers get no maternity/paternity leave like the rest of the “modern world” to start their families. If they don’t have enough sick days banked, they don’t get paid. There is no tuition reimbursement for their education. They have no Union interrupting their salary cuts and step raising. Enthusiastic about what, even more work for less pay?

Not once did either principal quoted state, as recorded by the paper, that “we” need to be more enthusiastic, and that “we” all need to do more with less. It was all about what teachers needed to do. How is an overworked underpaid teacher going to be effective at helping any students when he or she is burnt out and shown no appreciation for the miracles (something from nothing) they perform year after year? Who will stand for the noblest among us, the teacher? If school districts were not so “top heavy”, there would be more money available for needed programs like the ones being cut. There are four Superintendents of Education in many SC counties, and not a plan exists between them to address the needs of “every” student. Maybe they should listen to the principals quoted in the article? They seem to have the answer, pile it all on the teachers! What convenient scapegoats for leadership that lacks vision and too inept to devise a plan. The train is leaving the station in South Carolina, and look, they just left 100 children behind, and without the weight, making good time!

"Unleavened Bread"

Lately, I've been stressed out about so many things. From my professional path to the future of my children, many aspects of my life have vexed my spirit because I have no control over them. My difficulty, however, truly comes from balancing my faith and my own abilities to affect change in my life regarding those areas. I wonder if I'm in the right business; am I doing the right thing, and doing right by all those I come in contact with?

Deep seeded and interwoven into my soul, there's a constant tug towards greatness in something. For the past three months, I've had this peace in the mist of my rocky climb. I've been given an oasis of clear thought and expression in the desert of my journey to realize my greatness. I have a need to help people, and educate people to help them change their positions in life. It is what I truly believe I am meant to do; however, how do I align my passion, a perceived calling, financial obligations, family, and ministry?

Now, I know what you must be thinking. And yes, the above is a handful to reconcile. However, I truly believe my greatness in paired with this reconciliation. How I'm going to accomplish it, I don't know. I do know that as I continue to strive for answers and mediate my internal strife, I will continue to draw closer to the power source of life and the expectancy that it holds. I will continue to raise the bar on what's acceptable in my life. The more I am able to remove those things that make my life rise with pseudo conflicts, obstacles, and pitfalls, I will be able to see all things with a very flat and static sight which lends itself to dynamic interpretation. Like unleavened bread, life should be free of any agents giving rise to air pockets, or false priorities that may distort, or give a false sense of sustenance because of the appearance of fullness.

Life is a beautiful stroll on a rainy day filled with puddles that seek to intimidate our walk, and heavy showers that seek to cloud of vision. But the human spirit aligned with a higher power infused with the love of God is resilient. It provides shelter for our thoughts, and gives us spiritual depth perception so that we are able to step in puddles that are deep in appearance only. It allows us to continue walking without breaking our stride because of a down pour fore we know that storms break and give way to sunshine "after while".

"Your Best Self"

Hello everyone! It's been awhile since I've blogged. Yeah, I know, you excuses right, but I do have one, life. Life started really happening. I had some professional certifications coming up that I had to start studying for months in advance, and then I started studying for the LSAT. Most on now trying to discourage me for venturing into Law School as the rating for job placement has been exposed as false. In any event, I struggling to create and evolve the "best me".

I've done many things in my young life. An experience that's been molded by grandparents, parents, and other extended family whose backs and shoulders I stand on. As I reflect on my life, and meditate on "The Dream" a day after the MLK Holiday, I realize how blessed I am. I have a beautiful family, and friends who love me for me, no pretenses put forth or allowed. They are my inner circle; I trust them to tell me when I am right or wrong. Knowing that whatever accomplishment I obtain my core will keep me grounded, I strive to be my best self, bold, passionate, and interrupted.

This desire has my really wanting to enlighten and teach old things from a new perspective. It's made me want to share more, and reach out to those I don't know. It's making me kinder, and more gentle. I listened to Piers Morgan's interview of Oprah Winfrey this morning, and she said something that pierced my spirit (no pone intended). She stated that money and fame had afforded her the platform to strive towards making people their best yourselves. She want on to say that if she had a brand, it would be "Love", the "Love Brand". I thought that was fitting, and on point when I think about her life and what she has done for others up to this point with her empire.

I hear so many people complain about things in life that they can effect if they became involved in the community around them. I'm so painfully saturated by poignant words of hate regarding our president through the comments section of articles that I quit reading for months anything remotely connected to politics. To paraphrase Dr. King, an injustice anywhere, is an injustice everywhere. We are all connected, and we have a vested interest in the success of our brothers and sisters. When was the last time you helped someone do something? When was the last time your given thought to someone outside of your family, or core circle? If you're still thinking, you've got some work to do.

I'm at my best spiritually, emotionally, and physically when I'm helping make the world a better place. When I'm plugged into a higher purpose other than myself, I am the epitome of filled and satisfied. It gives me a sense of community, and a sense of my purpose in life. I've noticed in church lately, I've been weeping revelation tears. An enlightenment has come over me that I have to share and talk about almost daily. And though I'm not there yet, I continue to strive to be my "best self". I continue to hold my destination at heart, and most importantly, I've learned to enjoy the cadence of the journey.

Hotep!

"Standards"

As a boy growing up in the South, I was always intrigued by the well dressed men in my family. We lived in the country so I trip to town was like a mini vacation. I remember hitting main street, my brother and I, trailing behind our mother like "Just Married" cans. We would go to Vincent's Drug Store to get supplies for the medicine cabinet, or pick up grandma's "pressure" pills. If we were lucky, Momma would get a freshly squeezed cup of lemonade and share it with us. Mr Vincent, the pharmacist, was a nice man with snow white hair, and dark rimmed glasses. He always seem to be enjoying what he was doing behind the counter. We weren't sure what it was, but it sure was loud.
After we left the Drug Store, we would hit main street again, and head down to Allied. On the way, my brother and I would stop and beg momma to let us go back up the street first so that we could look inside of Ruth's Wardrobe Men Haberdashery. It was like a dreamland inside. The finest clothes we had ever seen danced in plate glass windows while grown men "dressed to the hilt" stood along the registers welcoming customers into the hall of clothing. They had suits in every color, purples, grays, greens, and navy, with the shoes to match. Hats, feathers out to the side, were lined at the top of each shelf hanging over the suits. When the front door would open, the sun would hit the display case just right, and the luster of gold and silver cuff links dazzled us like disco balls hanging over soul train lines. "Come on here", momma would yell. We would take off running like black comets behind her, settling into the reality of our Allied or B. C. Moore purchase. Our parents were together then, so our clothes were nice, but they weren't Ruth's.
Granddad seemed to have a style all is own; the older I got, I realized that Ruth's had a lot to do with it. We didn't have much, but the men in my family looked good when they stepped out with their families. Pictures of my Dad in the best looking suits filled the walls of my grandparents' house. Granddad told me that my dad won best-dressed all during high school. I could see that. Granddad and Grandma both dressed well, and maintained all of their children in the same way.
I told myself, one day, you too will have the best life has to offer. I too will be able to wear suits and step out looking as "sharp as a tack." The men in my family were not perfect by any means, but they taught me through their style that we had standards. Men in the Young family had standards, and we were expected to carry ourselves in a certain way. The standards in how I dressed helped me establish standards at schools, with choosing friends, and ultimately with living life. I miss the days of my childhood when there was no mistaking a man's man, and no mistaking a woman. I miss neighbors holding each other's kids accountable for the actions, and being accountable to each other. I miss the deference given to elders, familiar or strange. But most of all, I miss the sense of self that my family had. They loved themselves hard, and because of it, we knew we were loved wholly and without hesitation. We didn't expect it, but it was all we knew. It was the standard.

"Double Standard"

This week has been a rough week at my office. About a month ago, I found out that another supervisor in a different department had his staff tracking my arrival and departure times. I was made aware of the issue by someone in his department that didn't think it was right, and that also felt I was being targeted because I'm African American. (It's important to note that I am one of the highest ranking African Americans in my organization.) In any event, I decided to take my complaint to my managers. At first, I felt that I had their support; however, upon speaking with them after they had a chance to confront this other supervisor, I realized that they were scared of this other supervisor because of what they perceived as his "influence" on other high ranking members of our organization.

They met and they discussed my arrival and departure times in my office; he then showed them a log of my time. It was evident that my actual times didn't match my office hours. This was no surprise to me, nor should it have been a surprise to my manager as I told her that I had adjusted my schedule during the week to accommodate my morning drop-off schedule for my children. I had no excuse for the weekend hours; I was just being sloppy. I had fallen into a valley of tardiness per my weekday schedule that I had unjustly applied to my weekend schedule. Somehow, my manager did not recall this conversation, nor did I have anything in writing to substantiate our exchange. (Folks, always Document! Document! Document!)

I continued to listen as my meeting become less about the unlawful targeted tracking of me, and more about my not adhering to my office hours. At this point, I pointed out how no other supervisor on my level was held accountable for keeping their office hours exactly the same, including my managers. I then began to show them documentation I had to support my statements; they then became very defensive and tense. The next statement they made was that I should not try to police anybody esle's office; however, as I stated, policing of my office by another office is exactly why we're here having this discussion. I went on to state that I believed it was unfair to have a rolling standard on what's expected of offices throughout our organization with the same function based on their location.

I continued with my protest and stated that by being targeted to be tracked exclusively, the aforementioned offending supervisor had created a hostile work environment for me, violating EEOE mandates, and Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 by creating a discriminatory effect in the tracking itself, as the only difference between my office and other offices with the same function in our organization is that my office is ran by an African American, me. This lends itself to establish the validity of my complaints for the above reasons mention on the basis of my race.

At the end of the meeting, I was broken, though not visibly. I was just tired of fighting for equal treatment and respect. I was tired of having to justify actions exhibited by me that mirrored their on actions that needed no explanation. I was tired of trying to prove my point, and accepted the fact that we are not in a post-racial Obama nation society; race still mattered very much, and double standards will always exist between white and black folk because some folk still have a sense of entitlement that their skin has given them, and a superiority complex falsely formed by a series of societal missteps. It angered me to my core; my soul shuttered as I thought of my own sons growing up having to deal with this bull. I decided to do my best not to give them a reason, and start arriving at my scheduled office time on the weekends, and arrive consistently during the weekdays after my drop-offs are complete. I accept responsibility for my faults in this situation; however, I don't accept the acceptance of such a despicable showing of bigotry or of it being embraced and covered by my managers. I don't accept the double standard, and have vowed to do everything in my power to initiate its demise. I strongly suggest you all do the same.

My Review of Swiss Army 3.4 oz spray TESTER for men by Swiss Army

Originally submitted at Scentiments

Eau de Toilette, without the fancy box or cap.

Swiss Army 3.4 oz spray TESTER for men by Swiss Army

Smells of Summer

By Blackspeare the Poet from Fort Mill, SC on 5/6/2010

 

5out of 5

Gift: No

Pros: Draws Compliments, Great Smell, Long-Lasting, Great Value, Clean & Fresh

Best Uses: Daily Use

Describe Yourself: Classic Style

Fragrance Type: Fresh/Aquatic, Citrus/Fruity

I love Swiss Army; I smelled it on another guy and felt weird asking him what he was wearing but I had too because it was different. Now my brother is wearing Swiss Army because of me. I was walking in the mall and an older woman walked past with her husband, stopped and grabbed my arm to ask what I was wearing. She then said to her husband, "that's what you're getting for Christmas."

(legalese)

Wisdom Obtained: 33 Years Old

I was struck by this picture of a survivor of the Russian subway car that was attacked by a militant suicide bomber. As I looked at this man, injured but not broken, and very much alive, it reminded me of my own life and how it correlates to the upcoming Easter Celebration and my birthday on April 5, 2010. Throughout life, we all have survived some bomber attacks that have left us emotionally, physically, or mentally injured, but we survived. We are here, alive, and not broken.



As Easter and my birthday approaches, I started to think about the age of Jesus when he was crucified, 33, and my pending 33rd birthday. I've come a long way from Cummings, South Carolina, and have morphed into a man (some would say "young man") that's only a shell of his past self. A reflection in mirrored reality to those who knew me then, and a bitting picture of reality to those who have grown to love me now. I've always had a lot to say. As I've matured, I find solace and resolution in listening more than speaking. I still struggle to find meaning, relevance, and purpose. To know that Jesus was on purpose, consistent, enlightened, and prepared for death at 33 is daunting. He was brave, honorable, humble, intelligent, kind, meek, loving, giving, and fair. He willingly accepted his purpose and call at 33 years of old. As we all strive to emulate his life, and to be better people, we must ask ourselves whether we know who were are, and are we mature enough to embrace a destiny or purpose because it's necessary, not popular.