It's Not What You Call Me ...

It's what I answer to!

Do you recognize yourself anymore?

Depends on what you're answering to.

I've been called so many names in my lifetime. P.K., Perri, Perri Kathryn. Daughter. Granddaughter. Sister. Friend. Those are names that I loved being known as. Answering to. But, what I loved, more than anything, was when my first born said, "Mommie" (pronounced /mom'ee/) for the first time. Moreover, I loved that his sister and brother also called me "Mommie," although now they mostly call me Mom.

Who am I now? That's hard because what I want to do, what I have a passion for, has been diluted by things like what I'm good at and what people ask me to do. I am a good friend. Or rather, when I'm a good friend, people say things like, "You're so wonderful." Or, my favorite, "What would I have done without you?" Which is followed by the "great, awesome, wonderful" adjectives. Do I need the honoring or accolades? Well, I'm human, but these adjectives, or names don't necessarily really define me. Once whatever I've been doing is over with, done, I'm left with a plethora of names I can be called--mind you, not bad names--but names just the same. And then there are times when I'm not so accommodating, when I can't pull the rabbit out of the hat, or I can't do or be what someone wants me to be.

Which leads to a new set of names. Like selfish. Actually my favorite. But there's a list as long as my arm (quite a long list when you're more than six feet tall) that come from people who once said wonderful things about me, including "You were the best mom" or friend, or whatever, and because things didn't go as they planned, decide to REDEFINE me. Things have to change.

What name do you call me? How do you define me? Or does it matter? What name do I want to be called? How do I want to be defined. Who am I? Lots of questions, but no simple answers. I want to be mom, friend, sister ... all of this, but what I want to be most of all is me. And so, here's the simple truth. You may call me anything you want to, but you'll know who I am by what I answer to. I won't answer to anything other than who I am. Now, won't that be interesting?

Do You Believe in Miracles?

"I Believe in You and Me!" by Whitney Houston

Most think the lyrics to this song are about a man and a women. I beg to differ. Whitney Houston sings this song about miracles and part of the words are here. Please listen or better yet, hear. I changed a couple of words, however.

I believe in you and me 
I believe that we will be in love eternally 
As far as I can see 
You will always be, the one, for me 
Oh, yes, you will, I believe in dreams again 
I believe that love will never end 
And like the river finds the sea 

I was lost, now I'm free 
I believe in you and me 
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/w/whitney+houston/i+believe+in+you+me_20146401.html ] 
I will never leave your side 
I will never hurt your pride 
When all the chips are down I will always be around 
Just to be right where you are, my love 
You know I love you, my fellow sojourner, I will never leave you out 
I will always let you in, my fellow sojourner, 
Oh, dear heart, to places no one's ever been 
Deep inside can't you see, I believe in you and me.

Okay, I lied. It is about a boy and a girl, but with a few tweaks, it is about the miracles we all look for--the you and me kind. This latest campaign, like those in the past, has taken a nasty turn. People are polarized by those who say, "You're lazy" if you're struggling. "You don't want to work, just get handouts," if you're unemployed. It makes people lie. No one wants to be identified with those people. In my 59 years, I have never taken food stamps, never needed to have my daycare paid for in the past, could always pay for my prescriptions. So, these $9, $10, and yes, one time $15.66, per hour odds and end jobs, without healthcare or days accrued, are not sustainable--they aren't even constant. I could not even get unemployment because I'm hourly. This has been for 3 years! I thought when I came back to Houston that things would change.

When my friend told me to go get food stamps, I was horrified. But, here's the deal. She's a professional in healthcare. When I told her that I got my prescriptions reduced to $68 a month and was barely meeting that--including going 3 months without my medicine, she told me that the Gold Card allows me to get my prescriptions paid for (not free, I have to pay it back). Still, I hesitated because I didn't want that label. Yet, when people see me, I'm participating in several things in my community, which is my calling, I'm accused of NOT wanting to do what it takes to PAY MY BILLS. So, I lie. I don't let anyone know how desperate we've been, how I've been depending on my children to fill the gaps, and that without a REAL job, that somehow I'm not the person that others say I am.

My friend told me that she wants her giving, witty, and hardworking friend back. Well, I admit, that I'm not so witty, but giving--I can't help it. The only thing I haven't had in abundance is money, but I've given the 110% plus one, that is my trademark. And not once did I hear my friend ask, "How are things going with you?" Why? I think people don't really want to know how bad it is.

I didn't get someone who knows the system of welfare to tell me about how to get food stamps or reduced healthcare. Instead, I'm hearing from teachers, nurses, people with cancer and other illnesses, break down and share their story and I realize that I'm not alone. I am not one to say, "I did this or that anymore." But, I know that I'm going to keep giving as I have been, keep creating as I know how, because I believe in miracles. I DO BELIEVE IN YOU AND ME--in the end.

Keep believing in miracles.

Fellow Sojourner, P.K.

Defining Family ...

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

Can I believe what I see? Yes. This is family. My grandsons. Taliek, the older one, was born in April of 2004. His birth heralded a new day--I was once again a grandmother. The pain of losing his sister two years earlier left an indelible mark on my heart. We are not promised long life, but I do believe that God tells us life can be worth it. I only had Melliah in my life for 7 glorious days, but I remember that precious gift and am the better for it. When Taliek was born, I knew that God had given us all another chance.
     When I look at this picture, I'm overcome with an overwhelming desire to make the world right. For them, in memory of Melliah, in honor of my grandchildren here and to come. When my children were growing up, I told them that life wasn't necessarily fair. I told them that fairness takes a lot into consideration and those that think that everyone should have the same amount of -- well, everything -- are doomed to disappointment. But, life is to be lived as long as you remember that life encompasses both the joys and sorrows of living.

"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood,

but respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members

of one family grow up under the same roof."

                                                                                                        Richard Bach, Illusions
Family.  This picture is about family. That's the other thing I see when I look at my grandsons. This picture was taken the week Octavian came into our lives. Notice I didn't say, when Octavian was born because Octavian came into our lives a little more than two months after he was born. We didn't know at the time how long we'd be able to keep him, but a day or a year, a lifetime, he was ours. Taliek's captivation of his cousin was life long. We are family. Pure and simple.
     I have family all around the world. I cannot find a biological connection other than being human, but overall this family that I have now has grown over time. A couple of decades, actually. Calling the people I love family is not something I always believed in. I had a family that included mother and father, sisters and brothers. I had grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles, and a plethora of cousins of various generations. Our connection was that of blood. I believed that family was family and others--well, some friends, others just associates. Then,when I got older I realized that not everyone was a blood relation, but everyone could be family.
     My daughter and sons always brought friends home and often these friends called me Mom. Our home was the way station for many young people--some whose lives were less than fair. It wasn't easy for me to care about these children, not being able to do much more than that. I couldn't adopt them, but I could care and often feed a child or offer him or her help with his or her homework. The time at my house was comfort with limits. I didn't try to raise another parent's child, but I offered consistency and a place of refuge for many. Maybe that is where my daughter got it from.
     When my daughter learned about Octavian, that he was being placed in CPS custody, she offered a place of refuge. A mutual admiration society was created between Octavian and Eryon, but not just them alone. It is hard to know that people will debate about doing what is right for a child; whether or not to do anything. Too many challenges and obstacles. I know. I wrestled with these challenges and obstacles a lot. Too many young folks were left to their own devices, with little or no supervision. I could not adopt all of them, but I did what I could. But, here's what I'd like for us to consider. What will it take to create the village that cares for all of our children?
     I'm trying to figure it all out. This week, CPS came and took Octavian from my daughter. As I said, we knew there was a chance CPS would push to have Octavian united with his blood family. I get that, but family is not necessarily one of blood. You see, Octavian had the best of all worlds. He had a family who wanted him and loved him. Some of his family could not do everything, but together this family could give Octavian his best shot. So what went wrong?
     Institutions like the Child Protective Service are interested in rules and procedures and they should be. But, they lack something very important. That basic lack is that not everything can be tied up or fixed by a procedure. When you have people who are willing to step up to the plate--give that child every chance. Help the people who lack and the people who are willing and the people who can a chance to work together. Look past the rules and procedures and weigh the human element of relationships--family. Octavian has a family. They are not all blood, but they could work together, if only the bureaucrats would get out of the way.
     More to the story ...

The Setting Sun ...

 

 At the end of the day, we're all victims.

Pick a topic, any topic of the day, and you'll find those of us who are angry, frustrated and feeling put upon. Just recently my friend reposted a quote she'd gotten from another Facebook Friend. It read:

"Entitlement my butt!! I paid for my Social Security Insurance! Our benefits aren't some kind of charity or handout! Congressional benefits--free health care, outrageous retirement packages, 67 PAID holidays, three weeks PAID vacation,  unlimited PAID sick days--now THAT'S welfare. And Congress has the nerve to call my retirement an Entitlement?"

Thanks, Inez, for passing the quote on. There were a lot of exclamation points in this quote, but gotta admit the capping PAID was mine. Points made. And we wonder who the victims are. Well, look in the mirror. We have been victimized by those who profess to love America, who wants what's best for Americans, and in the next breath they are the ones who dismiss, deny, and denigrate every last one of us. Smaller government? What a crock. It is not about smaller government, it is about those who have been given the key to government to govern that is our problem. They are doing a piss-poor job of it.
     Victims. I hate the word, but what other word identifies what is happening to us. We are victims of greed and avarice and over zealous bigots who refuse to acknowledge their bigotry. We are victimized by a system that cannot change, but must be blown to bits, annihilated. But that is hatred talking. It makes me sound like a T-Party wannabe. Still, I have to rant a bit more before I get to the epiphany and the lessons learned. You know the "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" scenario? Well, I'm in the throes of a Beserker Fury over the state of the world today. And hell, I'm supposed to be a peacemaker.
     I just stopped working for someone who paid more money to their cook than me. That's my fault, however. It is better to out price yourself than to be too cheap. Again, my fault, not that person's. It's just that I know that times are tough and I'm willing to work my way up the ladder, even if I've built the ladder I'm on. That's victimhood. That's feeling sorry for myself because I should have considered my worth from the get go. Instead, I was new in town--needed a little work and viola took what was offered. When I think of the last word in the quote above--Entitlement--I realize that we have an incorrect definition of that word. What is entitlement?

An entitlement is a guarantee of access to benefits based on established right or by legislation.

Identified Patient of the Poor

Simple? Not so. Because in the end, those benefits based on legislation change for certain segments of the population--the poor, the new poor Middle Class (boo hoo) and it is changed to benefit those who HAVE an entitlement not based on the definition. They've established the benefit, but it ain't right. What face marks the look of victimhood? Mostly people of color and what do we do about that? Well, what can we do? People of color have often been the face for despair and destruction. We buy into it, but we should not. As Shirley Sherrod said in her speech to the NAACP, "... it's really about those who have versus those who don't." She goes on to add, "... and they can be black, and they could be white, they could be Hispanic." But she said that was when she realized that she had to help poor people, not the identified patient of poor people, which often happens to be a person of color.
     We victimize poor people in this country. As an example--when we decide what changes need to be made in transportation systems in this country, it is about how the haves can best be catered to, but never the poor. Even knowing that a great percentage of those who travel on public transportation are poor, we don't even consider them. And I say "we" because as long as I was making it, I didn't always consider them either because if I did, I'd try to dismantle the systemic abuse of them with my bare hands. Instead, I wait until the catastrophe--that last minute problem that looms large, comes fast and furious, and knocks my big ass down. Then I want to say, "Hey, this ain't right." I am indignant. But I have to acknowledge my own culpability in the grand scheme of things.
     I have never had to look for a job in my life. People were always wanting to hire me. Now, I compete with others who have become poor like me. Today there are too many talented folks looking for the same job. Hell, any job will do in this economy. So, what now? I go and try and take the cleaning job from the mother with four kids? In this economy, that is what is happening, too. That's why we want to get rid of "illegal" immigrants. How many of us have actually used them when it benefited us? Come on, raise your hands. Your silence will not absolve you.

Beat up and told to shut.

We are asked to go quietly into the night these days. We are asked to continue to put faith in individuals, some of who are saying that now, if you are on public assistance, you should not be allowed to vote. What the Fu*k? You've got to be kidding me. But there it is. Clamp your hand over my mouth and tell me to shut up, won't you? Well, I won't! I'm not. You cannot make me remain silent or to do nothing. It isn't just about me, it is about us. What will it take? Before the day is through, what will I be able to say I've done?
     I'm going to start with letter writing campaigns to ALL of my representatives. I'm going to start with the President on a daily basis. Perhaps create a Facebook Page called, "Mr. President, Pay Attention to This" and we'll start a daily list of those things that we cannot let go unchallenged. But, I won't just complain. No, that's too easy, complaining. I have to take responsibility for what I do, how and what I buy, what I collude with that continues promulgating the inequities of life here. Part of me keeps hoping that the heart will win out among our representatives--hell, even the person I worked for; that they will see the errors of their ways. But, I had to be taken down a peg or two to be able to see myself. What would happen if we demanded that the cuts they need to make start with them. That's going my first request to the President.  

President Obama. Everyone is Congress has a salary that they could do without. Like this time in Ramadan, it is time for some sacrifices of your parts. Give your salaries back to the people for the next year. Give up your vacations and healthcare benefits, too. See what it is like. Of course, most representatives have stashed money, so this won't really be denying yourself. It would, however, be symbolic. The American people have had enough of being victims.

Wow! That felt good. Going to start this immediately on Facebook as I come down from my Beserker Fury. I titled this blog piece The Setting Sun ... and some my wonder why. Today I woke up with these words in my head and wrote them down immediately.

We should follow the sun until the day is done or we'll lose the light before the setting sun."  

Didn't know what I meant by the words or what those words were saying to me, but now I do. It means I must follow the light--the light of awareness, of understanding, and of hope. I must do the work of God who sends me, while it is day. The night comes when no one shall work. Each day should count for something. It is my hope that I am up to the task.
     Peace!

Having My Say

Ever been misunderstood? Sure you have. There are moments when the words we speak are 1) taken out of context, 2) misunderstood, 3) ignored or 4) simply reinterpreted. Often the person being misunderstood, however, doesn't know why he or she has been misunderstood. So, I'm going to do an experiment for a few weeks --- mostly over the summer months. I'm going to "have my say" and then ask what you think I'm saying or what you think I mean. You see, I'm one of those people who often says, "I say what mean and mean what I say." But, what does that really mean? Well, we're about to find out. The topics will range from thoughts on race, religion, sex and any issue I feel is relevant at the time. Perhaps it will focus on a current event or issue, but mostly, it will be my thoughts without censure or restraint.

I make no promises about my responses after I've posted an essay. I may or may not defend myself to your posts. Still, I'm asking that you let me know even without a guarantee that you'll be responded to. I am interested in your responses, but it doesn't guarantee that I will be interested in responding. In having my say, I get to work on my thoughts and opinions while offering a window of opportunity for you to have yours as well.

Let the (perhaps one-sided) conversation begin.

PK McCary