This month we tip our hat to those who burned a path for us to follow.
The legacies we pass on are the ones that shape our society. We teach our daughters how to live in a society that does not value women. How are you doing that? What steps are you taking to ensure that your daughters, granddaughters, nieces and cousins have the tools to be great in a world that does not value them?
I am making a documentary about you.
I am looking for women who are passing on the legacy of marching and protesting in the tradition that gained us the right to vote.
If you are that person or know someone like this contact me at email@example.com
Remember how great our story really is. Despite how we are treated in America, my people show up with courage and fight. Our men and women fight for freedom regardless of whether they experience it. This is the 369th Infantry Regiment (out of New York) They fought during World War I and World War II.
Here is the link to some images from today’s March for Our Lives which took place in Fort Worth, Texas. It was great seeing all of the folks who showed up. Iwill be adding more images over the next couple of days. If you see something you like, download it. If you like it, please consider leaving me a tip through paypal at Uppcreative.
don’t mean I love you. Just because I have friended you on social media, doesn’t give you the right to say whatever you want to me. You don’t know me. You may follow my news feed or see the bible verses I love and think you get me, but trust me you don’t.
If you have read any of my books you will know that there is a edge to me, and it is sharp as glass. Glass is dangerous if you mishandle it. It can be very useful and helpful in many ways, but if misused, it can hurt you.
I was born in the basement of a segregated hospital in one of the richest countries in the world. This means I was brought into a society as a second class citizen by people who knew better. God had blessed them with much and they refused to share. This means ABSOLUTELY no Caucasian person can tell me about racism. You don’t get to decide what racism is. You don’t get to decide how I feel about it. Your parents forfeited the right for you to chat about this to me.
The Lord has spent the last year taking me back to the roots of where I came from. He has allowed me to see what is important and what is trivial. He taught me some people I don’t even need to associate with. He will deal with them Himself. If I cut you loose, trust me, the Lord thought it was a good idea. And I believe Him.
The Lord keeps me on a short leash. But it is still a leash. This means you can be cussed out or knocked out which ever I deem appropriate for the circumstance. So you might want to pray and ask God to give you some words to say to me or we might both be in lock up if you decide you want to approach me with your opinion.
If you don’t like what I post, unfollow me. If you don’t understand the post, inbox or call me. I keep it all public. I keep it all real.
God has promised to free the oppressed and I will keep shouting to the Lord for freedom. Someone said the media caused the problem, but the media ain’t shooting black men and killing black women in prison, authority is.
Like Isaiah, I am going to keep on talking till the Lord handles it. But since Isaiah wasn’t raised in the Fort Worth hood, you will have to deal with the likelihood of being cussed out if you approach me wrong. But y’all keep praying.
peace and hair grease
We thank you Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. You were not able to attend your kids soccer games or school programs. You were not able to see their wedding day or birth of their first children. You were not able to see the election of African American senators, congressmen and even the first African American President. But you marched on and we thank you.
You showed us how to love when we were treated poorly. When they put the dogs on us, beat us brutally and even took us to jail. You taught us it was an opportunity to love. Like the Apostle Paul, you even wrote us a letter from jail encouraging us during the fight.
You were not able to work for major corporations making high dollar salaries. You were not able to attend major universities seated next to children of senators and congressmen. You did not get to experience the wealth for which you fought. But you marched on and we thank you.
You showed us that during times of adversity is when we need to take the high road. You taught us faith was depending on God and not on man. You taught us that we need to keep up the fight even though we might not see the results. You lived that example for us.
You have left a powerful legacy. Thank you for the sacrifice. We don’t deserve it. Thank you for the example. We don’t deserve it. BUT we are going to do the same for the next generation and build on the example you have left. I pray that Lord will allow the stars in the heaven to shine brighter because of the work He has done through you.
When I was a kid, I didn’t understand much about the world around me, but I knew what a bolo sandwich was. It was a thick cut of bologna with a little barbecue sauce between to slices of white bread. It was our answer to McDonald’s, especially during June. When you have four kids and a little money, bolos go farther. This week, I ran into a bolo sandwich, but now it looks like it comes as combo.
On June 19, 1865, Union troops landed in Galveston, announced to the slaves that the war had ended and they were free. Slaves and their descendants have been celebrating this day ever since. Some people love it. Some people hate it. Sometimes it is good just to see that our condition has improved.
When I was a kid, we would get our hair done for the special occasion, and possibly a new outfit. I remember going to the park and watching the men play softball. As a young kid, I could not understand why we celebrated a separate independence day. My parents believed in celebrating Juneteenth. It wasn’t until many years later that I realized that my people were not freed on July 4. Matter of fact, my enslaved relatives probably prepared the meals for their independence celebrations.
This reminds us that there are storms in life. And sometimes those storms are so bad we can hardly see past them. We are wet, cold and feel as though we are going to drown in it. I can’t imagine what it was like to work while my slave owner celebrated freedom from oppression. But I am sure there was a light in there somewhere.
But take courage. There is someone outside your storm looking in on you. They have the power to stop it, but they know this is going to make you stronger. One day you or your children will look back and see it was all worth it.
This week I got home in time to see the Juneteenth Parade. It was led by Fort Worth Police Officers. They were men and women from different races. In the first car was Fort Worth Mayor Betsy Price. I thought how my parents would have gotten a kick out of seeing how far this event had come. To see that Juneteenth was not just celebrated by African Americans, but by many different Americans in a city in the South. Wow.