When we all need to blame ourselves...
*If you are highly sensitive to the following subject matter, then I suggest you read no further.*
I am a black woman, married to a black man, and we have two black children. We have black parents, black grandparents, black cousins, and black aunts and uncles. Do Black lives matter? Of course they do, but so do White lives, Hispanic lives, Asian lives, European lives, and so on and so forth. The point that I am making if you haven't figured it out by now, is that ALL LIVES MATTER!
I am not going to lie, in the recent years, I have become extremely concerned for the well being of my husband and my brother. Fearful for the life that my son may grow up to have because of how black men in general are portrayed in the media, however, that is not my only fear. There are so many wrong doings going on in the world, that it is senseless to just focus on that one only. As a woman, who is the mother of a daughter, rape and human trafficking are something else that plagues my subconscious thoughts. What I am saying is that while we all focus on the injustices of race relations, there are other things going on around us that need just as much attention, if not more.
Because I am aware of how the media perpetuates the relationships between that of the black male and the police, I make certain to not fall into the state of mind that causes me to raise my children in fear of calling 911. Never should a moment arise that my children see a police officer and their blood run cold. Children have enough to deal with already. For some, the boogey man is very real; he doesn't wear the badge that promises to serve and protect, he wears the title as father, uncle, cousin, friend. He is the abuser, the sexual predator, the real monster under one's bed. He is the one that no one would expect to do an act of any violence at all...
Do not think that for one moment that I feel as if racism does not
exist, because it does! A Lot! I have been the victim of plenty of
racial attacks, none have ever become physical but I feel that the
verbal is still just as bad; especially, when you are a child. The color of my skin is never going to change and neither will the opinions of ignorant minded people.
As a woman who grew up in the suburbs my entire childhood and has lived my entire adult life in the inner city, there are things that I have seen that I much rather wish I hadn't. That is neither here nor there. But what I have seen is that black people DON'T RESPECT black people no matter where you live. I feel that if black lives truly matter, then the black community needs to practice what they preach. You cannot expect someone to treat a person, pet, or thing any better than you treat them when all they have seen you do is treat them like shit. Pardon my language, but I feel as if that word fit perfectly. Have you ever noticed that if you run your siblings down to your friends, your friends feel as if it is okay for them to do the same? What about as a parent with children? If you do not treat your child with love and care, then those around you won't either. Owner of a pet even? Mistreat your animal and watch how quickly others mistreat it as well. The point I am making is that if you act like black lives don't matter, then the rest of the world will too.
Black on Black crime is very real, as is other race on race crime but those are not the races that are the focus of the nation right now; those are not the races that have been oppressed for as long as black lives have. Understand that I am not minimizing any other race and their issues because I do understand that the issue of immigration is very real as well, but as a black woman, with a black husband, raising black children, I felt that I was long overdue to share my opinion about black lives.
Before any of us can go around pointing fingers at those that are doing us an injustice, it is best that we make damn sure that we are doing all that we can and then some to make sure they don't have an example to lead by...
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Thursday, August 27, 2015
When The Words Are There...
But you cannot seem to grasp them.
Right now, what I want to say is on the tip of my tongue but it is the issue of how I want to say it that I am having a problem with.
I wonder if there are people in the world that ever wonder the kind of impact they have on someone. The kind of effect that they have on a person. The kind of impression that they leave on a person. I wonder if there are people who actually stop to think before they ever open their mouths. I wonder if they wonder like I wonder...
I am not the perfect person, in fact, I am completely far from perfect. I try to live by what I "preach". I am not the kind of person to mistreat someone or use them because I know that I do not like to be treated that way. I try to be honest with people and before I allow a lie to leave my lips, I will shut my mouth. If I do not like someone, before I go out of my way to be nasty to them, I will just simply stop dealing with them. I make it a habit to keep my fangs sheathed when I am dealing with someone that offers me help of any kind, because you don't bite the hand that feeds you and no matter how together I may ever get it, I make sure that I am never that full of myself to mistreat those that were there when everything was scattered for me. I am not the kind of person to burn bridges, but the kind that will blow them up when I see that what is on the other side is not good for me.
This is who I am, now who are you?
There are people in our lives that are not good for us. They are not healthy for us either. If a person spends more time tearing you down than building you up, then that is a person with whom the ties need to be severed. Unfortunately, it's not always that easy. So if you cannot severe ties, then try adding slack to them. I once thought that distancing myself from those kind of people would suffice, but I have since learned that what I considered adding distance, is not in fact distance at all. I find that I am still sacrificing my mental well being dealing with those kind of people and I shouldn't allow myself to sacrifice any part of me for anyone.
Sadly, I am reminded quite often the reasons that I have become as withdrawn as I am. Not a moment goes by that there isn't something in the air that settles quietly and without notice. I enjoy peace. I enjoy serenity. I enjoy calm. Quite frankly, if any of those are continuously disturbed, then I am going take the necessary measures needed to protect my mental well being and I honestly, I will learn to enjoy that too...
Right now, what I want to say is on the tip of my tongue but it is the issue of how I want to say it that I am having a problem with.
I wonder if there are people in the world that ever wonder the kind of impact they have on someone. The kind of effect that they have on a person. The kind of impression that they leave on a person. I wonder if there are people who actually stop to think before they ever open their mouths. I wonder if they wonder like I wonder...
I am not the perfect person, in fact, I am completely far from perfect. I try to live by what I "preach". I am not the kind of person to mistreat someone or use them because I know that I do not like to be treated that way. I try to be honest with people and before I allow a lie to leave my lips, I will shut my mouth. If I do not like someone, before I go out of my way to be nasty to them, I will just simply stop dealing with them. I make it a habit to keep my fangs sheathed when I am dealing with someone that offers me help of any kind, because you don't bite the hand that feeds you and no matter how together I may ever get it, I make sure that I am never that full of myself to mistreat those that were there when everything was scattered for me. I am not the kind of person to burn bridges, but the kind that will blow them up when I see that what is on the other side is not good for me.
This is who I am, now who are you?
There are people in our lives that are not good for us. They are not healthy for us either. If a person spends more time tearing you down than building you up, then that is a person with whom the ties need to be severed. Unfortunately, it's not always that easy. So if you cannot severe ties, then try adding slack to them. I once thought that distancing myself from those kind of people would suffice, but I have since learned that what I considered adding distance, is not in fact distance at all. I find that I am still sacrificing my mental well being dealing with those kind of people and I shouldn't allow myself to sacrifice any part of me for anyone.
Sadly, I am reminded quite often the reasons that I have become as withdrawn as I am. Not a moment goes by that there isn't something in the air that settles quietly and without notice. I enjoy peace. I enjoy serenity. I enjoy calm. Quite frankly, if any of those are continuously disturbed, then I am going take the necessary measures needed to protect my mental well being and I honestly, I will learn to enjoy that too...
Monday, August 17, 2015
Guns Don't Kill People...
People kill people...
I'd like to take a moment and veer off of my "usual" banter to acknowledge something that has weighed heavy on me for quite a few days now. If you are not one that enjoys raw opinion, then now would be the time for you to halt your reading and to go on your merry way.
Late Monday night/early Tuesday morning, someone I knew was murdered by a stray bullet. The details of the situation are neither here nor there but the point is, bullets don't have names on them. There are multiple people around the world that have taken a stray bullet. Have I done my statistics? No. I don't need to, but even one person taking a bullet not meant for them is one person too many.
Understand, this post is not only about gun violence, it's about violence in general. Growing up, most of us are taught to defend ourselves if we ever feel that we are threatened; to not be the first to throw the lick but better make sure we are the last and to strike first ONLY if a person that is out to do us harm is within arms reach. To fight a fair fight, one on one without any weapons and if you have to jump in, make sure that it is done as fairly as possible as well. It seems to me, however, those teachings are no longer the case. No one fights fairly anymore. Weapons are drawn with a quickness and there are people out there all too eager to jump someone. The saddest part about it all is where there is a violent act about to occur, chances are there is someone lurking (or maybe even bold enough to stand out in the open) with a phone camera poised to record every single minute of the action.
These fight videos can be found all over the internet; you really don't have to look very far to find them. I am the kind of person that refuses to watch those homemade fight videos of any kind. I do not find it cute or even entertaining to watch people of all ages, sexes, nationalities, etc. fighting over something that was probably trivial anyway. I find it very disturbing that there are people who choose recording such foolishness over stopping it. I don't know nor do I get it, but it does bother me.
Let me take a moment to address some of the recent violent events that have been going on throughout my country. I have an opinion about each individual media whored situation, however, that's not what I want to discuss. What I want to discuss is what everyone is doing as far as their part is concerned.
Though adults will be adults and you can't always teach an old dog new tricks, are those of us who love all doing the best that we can to teach our children that? Are we as individuals teaching our children to love unconditionally no matter a person's size, shape, sex, race, religion, or even social background? Hatred of any kind is a learned behavior and it is our responsibility to not allow that kind emotion to fester into our children. Also, are we providing the proper outlet for those children who may need someone to talk to or even a way to let off steam? It seems to me that angry children grow up to be angry adults. It used to be that it was said that it took a village to raise a child, but now a days it seems if as all of the villagers have left and the child is out there fending for itself. Children cannot raise themselves, if they could then they would be born already self-sufficient. We have an obligation to the safety of our children, ourselves, and to others to ensure that tomorrow be a bit better than today is and a lot better than yesterday was. If no one can do their part to ensure a better today, then it's best that no one complain about how terrible tomorrow becomes....
I'd like to take a moment and veer off of my "usual" banter to acknowledge something that has weighed heavy on me for quite a few days now. If you are not one that enjoys raw opinion, then now would be the time for you to halt your reading and to go on your merry way.
Late Monday night/early Tuesday morning, someone I knew was murdered by a stray bullet. The details of the situation are neither here nor there but the point is, bullets don't have names on them. There are multiple people around the world that have taken a stray bullet. Have I done my statistics? No. I don't need to, but even one person taking a bullet not meant for them is one person too many.
Understand, this post is not only about gun violence, it's about violence in general. Growing up, most of us are taught to defend ourselves if we ever feel that we are threatened; to not be the first to throw the lick but better make sure we are the last and to strike first ONLY if a person that is out to do us harm is within arms reach. To fight a fair fight, one on one without any weapons and if you have to jump in, make sure that it is done as fairly as possible as well. It seems to me, however, those teachings are no longer the case. No one fights fairly anymore. Weapons are drawn with a quickness and there are people out there all too eager to jump someone. The saddest part about it all is where there is a violent act about to occur, chances are there is someone lurking (or maybe even bold enough to stand out in the open) with a phone camera poised to record every single minute of the action.
These fight videos can be found all over the internet; you really don't have to look very far to find them. I am the kind of person that refuses to watch those homemade fight videos of any kind. I do not find it cute or even entertaining to watch people of all ages, sexes, nationalities, etc. fighting over something that was probably trivial anyway. I find it very disturbing that there are people who choose recording such foolishness over stopping it. I don't know nor do I get it, but it does bother me.
Let me take a moment to address some of the recent violent events that have been going on throughout my country. I have an opinion about each individual media whored situation, however, that's not what I want to discuss. What I want to discuss is what everyone is doing as far as their part is concerned.
Though adults will be adults and you can't always teach an old dog new tricks, are those of us who love all doing the best that we can to teach our children that? Are we as individuals teaching our children to love unconditionally no matter a person's size, shape, sex, race, religion, or even social background? Hatred of any kind is a learned behavior and it is our responsibility to not allow that kind emotion to fester into our children. Also, are we providing the proper outlet for those children who may need someone to talk to or even a way to let off steam? It seems to me that angry children grow up to be angry adults. It used to be that it was said that it took a village to raise a child, but now a days it seems if as all of the villagers have left and the child is out there fending for itself. Children cannot raise themselves, if they could then they would be born already self-sufficient. We have an obligation to the safety of our children, ourselves, and to others to ensure that tomorrow be a bit better than today is and a lot better than yesterday was. If no one can do their part to ensure a better today, then it's best that no one complain about how terrible tomorrow becomes....
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
For You Will Need Sunglasses...
Not because the sun is shining bright, but because my smile is.
Freedom. There are multiple definitions of the word, but this is the definition that I choose to use today: exemption from the presence of anything specified (usually followed by from).
I write to you right now to say that I have never felt more free in my life than I do at the present moment. This is a happiness that I have not known before, but am glad to have made its acquaintance. I have embraced so many changes in the past month that I cannot understand why the idea of change at all ever scared me. But then again, I can understand it because change is the door in which on the other side lies the unknown.
At present, the unknown is the the only thing that I am most certain of. I cannot predict the future, nor do I know what lies ahead of me on the path that I have recently been traveling upon, but I can for sure tell you with absolute certainty that everything is unknown. Where I will end up in life: unknown. My relationships with people: unknown. My hair growing to be shoulder length like my sister's: unknown. What my exact purpose for existing is: unknown. When my time will be up: unknown.
And you know what? I honestly don't care either.
That's right, I DON'T CARE.
There was a time when I cared about everything and now, I don't. Don't get me wrong, it's not that unhealthy kind of not caring, the one where you throw up your middle finger and drop a slew of swear words, it's the one in which my shoulders are no longer heavy and my soul feels free. It is almost as if I am high off of my own freedom. I don't know when, how, or why it happened and I'm not going to question it either. Why would I when I feel as if I can finally breathe.
If anything, I give credit to my husband for leading by example. For showing me that the kind of freedom that I so long sought after was within my grasp the entire time. That the opinions of those around me was ultimately inconsequential in the grand scheme of my sanity. That all I needed to do in order to feel euphoria was to let go of everything that was holding me back. To let go of me...
Freedom. There are multiple definitions of the word, but this is the definition that I choose to use today: exemption from the presence of anything specified (usually followed by from).
I write to you right now to say that I have never felt more free in my life than I do at the present moment. This is a happiness that I have not known before, but am glad to have made its acquaintance. I have embraced so many changes in the past month that I cannot understand why the idea of change at all ever scared me. But then again, I can understand it because change is the door in which on the other side lies the unknown.
At present, the unknown is the the only thing that I am most certain of. I cannot predict the future, nor do I know what lies ahead of me on the path that I have recently been traveling upon, but I can for sure tell you with absolute certainty that everything is unknown. Where I will end up in life: unknown. My relationships with people: unknown. My hair growing to be shoulder length like my sister's: unknown. What my exact purpose for existing is: unknown. When my time will be up: unknown.
And you know what? I honestly don't care either.
That's right, I DON'T CARE.
There was a time when I cared about everything and now, I don't. Don't get me wrong, it's not that unhealthy kind of not caring, the one where you throw up your middle finger and drop a slew of swear words, it's the one in which my shoulders are no longer heavy and my soul feels free. It is almost as if I am high off of my own freedom. I don't know when, how, or why it happened and I'm not going to question it either. Why would I when I feel as if I can finally breathe.
If anything, I give credit to my husband for leading by example. For showing me that the kind of freedom that I so long sought after was within my grasp the entire time. That the opinions of those around me was ultimately inconsequential in the grand scheme of my sanity. That all I needed to do in order to feel euphoria was to let go of everything that was holding me back. To let go of me...
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
If A Computer Can...
Then I can too...
Like a computer that has constant applications running in the background, that is how my mind has been feeling lately...
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment in time when my mind began feeling cluttered, when my thoughts became crowded, or when my drive faltered, but I feel like there is no longer any room for me. Looking back on it, I can kind of give a start point when my drive faltered but I would like to believe that the situation didn't have anything to do with it. What situation you ask? About a month and a half ago, I had surgery to remove what they refer to as a "chocolate cyst" from my left ovary. Because I couldn't really do too much afterwards, the following few weeks started to wear me down. Granted, I probably needed the rest and to allow others to take care of me, being that "dependent" felt crippling to me. After so long, it becomes hard, if not harder, to get yourself mentally and physically back to where you once were. Almost like climbing the side of an icy mountain in six inch heels.
Other than that, there are things going on in my life that I feel should require my complete attention and my purest emotion, but those things are things that I cannot figure out at the moment. I have found myself quietly thinking and trying to eliminate all of the possibilities, but none of which require what I feel that they should. In that aspect, I feel that I may just be unnecessarily searching for something to, I guess, be wrong. I'm not exactly used to things going so right for so long and I find it a rather awkward thing to accept. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely grateful for such a blessing, but it's just that I guess I am not used to such peace.
Then, there is the issue of me as a writer. Well, it's not exactly an issue per say; it is more like I am dealing with a challenge that I might be too afraid to face. I am afraid of the endless possibilities; of the things that my pen is capable of. I am afraid of negative feedback because it is something that I am not used to and I am afraid that I wouldn't know hot to react to it. I am afraid to come up with an ending to a story that I have been working on forever. To simply put it, I am too afraid to step out of my box. Wow, fear is stumping what should be monumental literary growth for me. Reading that admission, makes me feel ridiculously foolish for even feeling like that and I am beyond embarrassed for even publicly sharing that feeling.
Apparently, reading back through, I am making mountains out of molehills and creating problems where there aren't any. It seems to me that if there was to be an actual problem, then that problem would actually be me....
Like a computer that has constant applications running in the background, that is how my mind has been feeling lately...
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment in time when my mind began feeling cluttered, when my thoughts became crowded, or when my drive faltered, but I feel like there is no longer any room for me. Looking back on it, I can kind of give a start point when my drive faltered but I would like to believe that the situation didn't have anything to do with it. What situation you ask? About a month and a half ago, I had surgery to remove what they refer to as a "chocolate cyst" from my left ovary. Because I couldn't really do too much afterwards, the following few weeks started to wear me down. Granted, I probably needed the rest and to allow others to take care of me, being that "dependent" felt crippling to me. After so long, it becomes hard, if not harder, to get yourself mentally and physically back to where you once were. Almost like climbing the side of an icy mountain in six inch heels.
Other than that, there are things going on in my life that I feel should require my complete attention and my purest emotion, but those things are things that I cannot figure out at the moment. I have found myself quietly thinking and trying to eliminate all of the possibilities, but none of which require what I feel that they should. In that aspect, I feel that I may just be unnecessarily searching for something to, I guess, be wrong. I'm not exactly used to things going so right for so long and I find it a rather awkward thing to accept. Don't get me wrong, I am extremely grateful for such a blessing, but it's just that I guess I am not used to such peace.
Then, there is the issue of me as a writer. Well, it's not exactly an issue per say; it is more like I am dealing with a challenge that I might be too afraid to face. I am afraid of the endless possibilities; of the things that my pen is capable of. I am afraid of negative feedback because it is something that I am not used to and I am afraid that I wouldn't know hot to react to it. I am afraid to come up with an ending to a story that I have been working on forever. To simply put it, I am too afraid to step out of my box. Wow, fear is stumping what should be monumental literary growth for me. Reading that admission, makes me feel ridiculously foolish for even feeling like that and I am beyond embarrassed for even publicly sharing that feeling.
Apparently, reading back through, I am making mountains out of molehills and creating problems where there aren't any. It seems to me that if there was to be an actual problem, then that problem would actually be me....
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
When Freedom Becomes Primary...
Everything else becomes secondary...
No matter what in this life you are feeling prisoner to, everyone dreams of freedom. It could be that you feel prisoner to your relationship(s), your family, your job, your home, your neighborhood, or whatever the case may be. Nothing weighs heavily on the mind and the spirit than being in a situation that causes you to feel as if "life would be better if only I were free."
More so recently than before, I find myself steadily falling back into that mindset. I feel like a prisoner in certain aspects of my life and those aspects are all intricately intertwined with one another. Like, no matter how you view it, one aspect effects another which effects another causing each to play melodiously on my nerve endings. I often find myself thinking that if I can just free myself from one aspect, then I should be able to free myself from them all. Like a large tangled ball of string, that is how my thoughts are becoming again.
Reading and writing seem to be my only current escape but I can't seem to bring myself to focus on them long enough to give myself the freedom that I so yearn for. If mentally escaping is the only kind of freedom that I can have at this point in the game, then I will have it ten times over... Once I'm able to focus on it long enough that is... Maybe, I am subconsciously punishing myself for not properly protecting what is rightfully mine. The one thing that I truly have control over in this life. The one thing that some have lost and others wish they still had. The only thing that medications are made to fix but can never repair. They very thing that people assault when they find themselves intimidated by you for reasons that you yourself cannot even begin to understand.
One's Sanity....
No matter what in this life you are feeling prisoner to, everyone dreams of freedom. It could be that you feel prisoner to your relationship(s), your family, your job, your home, your neighborhood, or whatever the case may be. Nothing weighs heavily on the mind and the spirit than being in a situation that causes you to feel as if "life would be better if only I were free."
More so recently than before, I find myself steadily falling back into that mindset. I feel like a prisoner in certain aspects of my life and those aspects are all intricately intertwined with one another. Like, no matter how you view it, one aspect effects another which effects another causing each to play melodiously on my nerve endings. I often find myself thinking that if I can just free myself from one aspect, then I should be able to free myself from them all. Like a large tangled ball of string, that is how my thoughts are becoming again.
Reading and writing seem to be my only current escape but I can't seem to bring myself to focus on them long enough to give myself the freedom that I so yearn for. If mentally escaping is the only kind of freedom that I can have at this point in the game, then I will have it ten times over... Once I'm able to focus on it long enough that is... Maybe, I am subconsciously punishing myself for not properly protecting what is rightfully mine. The one thing that I truly have control over in this life. The one thing that some have lost and others wish they still had. The only thing that medications are made to fix but can never repair. They very thing that people assault when they find themselves intimidated by you for reasons that you yourself cannot even begin to understand.
One's Sanity....
Thursday, May 7, 2015
For I Was An Unbound Woman...
Even if only for a brief moment in time...
Saturday, was the day that I was a featured reader at the "May Open With Women Unbound".
When I initially thought about speaking at this event, I was completely calm about it. As time went on, I was still calm; it was only when it came down to the day of that I began to lose my nerve. Time that morning seemed to zoom by and nothing seemed to be going right for me. If I allowed myself even a second to believe that the events of the morning were a prelude to the events of that afternoon, then I would've completely lied to myself.
The event time was 2 PM, I arrived there at 2:04 PM. In my mind, I was terribly late but the women hosting the event (Lorraine Cipriano and Kayla M. Williams) let me know that I wasn't late at all. Their friendly smiles and welcoming demeanor allowed me to calm down and relax. A lot. After brief introductions between us and small chatter, I donated "The Growth of a Writer" to be given away in their raffle and set a few of each of my books on the table up front to be sold after the event.
Time ticked by and my anxiety eased down to a mere rapid heartbeat. As nervous as I felt, I was even more anxious to get up to that podium and share my words with the guests that had taken time out of their busy lives to attend the event as well. My mom, my sister (with infant son), and my daughter had accompanied me so I knew that if anything, I had not only my support system but a focal point when speaking to the crowd. As Kayla and Lorraine began speaking, I began watching the time. The more they spoke, the quicker my heart began to beat.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
The time came when they began to introduce me to the room and as they wrapped up their introduction of me, I gulped in a deep breath, stood with pride, and walked up to the podium as if I owned the room. Well that's how I felt I did it anyway. I said a few words and then I read various poems from all three of my poetry books, stopping here and there to make mention of what might have inspired me to write a certain poem. I tried to maintain good eye contact with the entire room, but I know that there was a moment or two when I didn't look up at all. In those moments, I was relieving the reason that caused me to write the poem in the first place. Every emotion that was poured into the poem, came back and hit me in the chest like a 2 ton weight. I couldn't have looked up at the audience if I wanted to; my emotions were too raw. Once I was finished, I wrapped it up by thanking my audience and was asked a couple of questions before I returned to my seat to listen to the other featured readers share their words. Only then, did my breathing go back to normal.
The entire time that I was in front of the audience, I was completely nervous. I could feel myself doing things that I felt like the audience was focusing on, proving how nervous I was. I was bouncing from foot to foot and stumbling over words. Each time I stumbled over a word, I could feel the heat rise to my face as I corrected myself and moved on. What the audience couldn't see was the desperate grip that I had on my books and on the rare occasion, the podium. Mind you, NONE of this was mentioned to me afterwards, at all. Everyone that spoke to me said that I did well while I was up there and the feedback was nothing short of positive on my work.
Looong story short, I gained new fans that afternoon and a new appreciation for what I have set out to do. By the way, did I mention that they're going to try and get my books in the library? Yup, they are. I'm blessed to be able to do what I love to do and I'm thankful that I have never given up on my dream...
If you're interested in hearing/seeing me read, as well as a few other talented poets, here is the youtube link for that video: May Open With Women Unbound
Saturday, was the day that I was a featured reader at the "May Open With Women Unbound".
When I initially thought about speaking at this event, I was completely calm about it. As time went on, I was still calm; it was only when it came down to the day of that I began to lose my nerve. Time that morning seemed to zoom by and nothing seemed to be going right for me. If I allowed myself even a second to believe that the events of the morning were a prelude to the events of that afternoon, then I would've completely lied to myself.
The event time was 2 PM, I arrived there at 2:04 PM. In my mind, I was terribly late but the women hosting the event (Lorraine Cipriano and Kayla M. Williams) let me know that I wasn't late at all. Their friendly smiles and welcoming demeanor allowed me to calm down and relax. A lot. After brief introductions between us and small chatter, I donated "The Growth of a Writer" to be given away in their raffle and set a few of each of my books on the table up front to be sold after the event.
Time ticked by and my anxiety eased down to a mere rapid heartbeat. As nervous as I felt, I was even more anxious to get up to that podium and share my words with the guests that had taken time out of their busy lives to attend the event as well. My mom, my sister (with infant son), and my daughter had accompanied me so I knew that if anything, I had not only my support system but a focal point when speaking to the crowd. As Kayla and Lorraine began speaking, I began watching the time. The more they spoke, the quicker my heart began to beat.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
The time came when they began to introduce me to the room and as they wrapped up their introduction of me, I gulped in a deep breath, stood with pride, and walked up to the podium as if I owned the room. Well that's how I felt I did it anyway. I said a few words and then I read various poems from all three of my poetry books, stopping here and there to make mention of what might have inspired me to write a certain poem. I tried to maintain good eye contact with the entire room, but I know that there was a moment or two when I didn't look up at all. In those moments, I was relieving the reason that caused me to write the poem in the first place. Every emotion that was poured into the poem, came back and hit me in the chest like a 2 ton weight. I couldn't have looked up at the audience if I wanted to; my emotions were too raw. Once I was finished, I wrapped it up by thanking my audience and was asked a couple of questions before I returned to my seat to listen to the other featured readers share their words. Only then, did my breathing go back to normal.
The entire time that I was in front of the audience, I was completely nervous. I could feel myself doing things that I felt like the audience was focusing on, proving how nervous I was. I was bouncing from foot to foot and stumbling over words. Each time I stumbled over a word, I could feel the heat rise to my face as I corrected myself and moved on. What the audience couldn't see was the desperate grip that I had on my books and on the rare occasion, the podium. Mind you, NONE of this was mentioned to me afterwards, at all. Everyone that spoke to me said that I did well while I was up there and the feedback was nothing short of positive on my work.
Looong story short, I gained new fans that afternoon and a new appreciation for what I have set out to do. By the way, did I mention that they're going to try and get my books in the library? Yup, they are. I'm blessed to be able to do what I love to do and I'm thankful that I have never given up on my dream...
If you're interested in hearing/seeing me read, as well as a few other talented poets, here is the youtube link for that video: May Open With Women Unbound
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