DEAR WHITE PEOPLE: Movie Review

dear-white-people.jpg

It's no secret that racial tensions are alive and well today. For black people this movie was brilliant and laced with truth and statistics. Why do you think real housewives of Atlanta (all the housewives shows) get so many views? People love to watch that mess and guess what? Who mainly watches it? A Caucasian audience, the same group who purchase 70 percent of the rap music played in this country. The point of Dear White People was to bring the dialogue and stereotypes to the forefront. To expose the fact that black people are lumped into a group and if you divert from that said "group" you are trying to be White or you have to earn your acceptance from the White community by proving that your education takes precedence over the color of your skin.The movie also revealed the inner tension amongst the black community. Some of us aren't the next Malcolm X and all White people aren't bad and awful, nor are they all racist. That would be a narrow view of people. It is ignorant to lump everyone in one group. I'm learning not to label people racist so quickly. I believe a lot of people are uneducated about black culture and therefore make assumptions and statements about black culture based on the news or TV shows. A lot of people do not live in an area where there are black people. So what they grasp of our culture is media based. Unfortunately, the media is biased. As much as we would like to think racism is dead it isn't. When you turn on your TV and you watch who the reporters choose to interview on local television (Antoine Dodson, Sweet Brown), you know there is an agenda-get ratings. While we all laugh (myself included) and joke, the truth is, people view black culture through that lens. Let a Black person be dressed nice and articulate their words and it's as if you are apart of a zoo, everyone is fascinated that you have been "tamed". When in fact, slang was never allowed in my household and my dad was a stickler about our presentation and dressing nicely.My daddyHonestly, growing up, I did not like my skin color. Lighter the better. I wished God made me light like my dad. I felt the inner struggle of being called "white" because I was educated and articulated my words. On top of that I was homeschooled. Can you just guess how many black kids were at the homeschool group? Like 10 out of over a 100. It was hard to find people to identify with. The reason I personally didn't struggle that much with being the only black person was because my parents never allowed us to view our skin color as a disadvantage. Truth is, no matter that country or area of the world you are from, in America, people see black, white, Hispanic, Asian, and indian decent,etc. we are all lumped in groups based on looks. No one is going to look at me and see that my great grandmother was half white and we are of German decent on my paternal side, no one will look at me and know that. They just see black and my hair.Now as an adult, I have learned how to love myself and love my heritage and culture. I have also become quite aware of how differences still exist. While my crew and friends are diverse, the world does not look at me the way they do. We have worked hard to build a friendship. We have worked hard to learn about one another's cultures and have engaged in hard conversations with one another.Dear White People was a breath of fresh air for me. One of the opening lines said "Dear White People the amount of black friends you need to have so you don't seem racist has now been raised to 2." It challenges popular culture and shows that black young people are trying to hold onto their heritage and be a people who can be proud of who we are and where we come from. I don't want to give up my culture to fit in. It won't happen. I've spent my young teen years trying to camouflage my heritage. My great grandparents and grandparents fought too hard for my freedoms for me to throw their hard work away. I want to be apart of breaking stereotypes about black culture. The news and mass media paint us in such a negative light. FACT: There are bad people everywhere of every color.I so desperately wish hair, color and everything else weren't dividing factors. I wish it wasn't something that kids got teased over. I wish we could all get along. I wish we could have these hard conversations without fear of retaliation from one side vs. the other. I wish we could unite and learn from one another. I wish people didn't point out when all the black people are on one side of the room like its a big deal. No one says anything about segregation until a group of black people are sitting together amongst white people and all the sudden we have a non "blended" group. Why is this an issue? Why do we make it an issue? Trust me I wrestle with this because there are things that I have said and done and wondered, why do I think my hair is not as good because it is corse? Why have I thought I'm not as beautiful because my skin is dark? Why have I thought, I don't want to marry someone dark so my kids won't be dark and have to deal with being teased? Why? I have a lot of questions and not many answers besides a burden to pray and a heart to see Black people believe the best of themselves and understand that they can accomplish their goals and don't have to give into the status quo that we are less than, because we are not. No matter what our skin color is and where we are from, we all have purpose and value.I love teaching and helping. I love telling people about black culture and explaining our jokes and humor. I would teach a class or hold a webinar for people wanting to learn more about black hair and how to do it. Especially for the adoptive moms. Raising a black child can be hard. Trust me, if I have experienced it and felt the differences and feeling out of place and I had two black parents, imagine what a kid who doesn't have that will feel like? It's tough and I'm praying for all of you as you navigate tough waters.Moving forward starts with people coming with open hearts and minds and leaving their backpack full of junk behind (maybe we need to throw out some tables as James suggested). It's time for our nation to realize that racial tensions and biases still exist. That's why Ferguson is experiencing so much tension. It's evident that local leadership must change. Whatever the story, black youth being killed by the police is a problem. We have a justice system to deal with offenders accordingly (I am not going to get into our flawed justice system dialogue, that is a whole different discussion).Something has got to change. It's starts with us. It starts with knowing who our local leadership is. Not only that, we need more diversity in politics and we need for more minorities to get engaged in representing the communities. Especially communities whose demographics are predominantly minorities. We need to educate our youth and young adults on the importance of local elections. It's imperative that we learn the value of voting. There was a lot of depth in movie. Although it was presented in a funny manner, the purpose was to make people think. To me it's great way to begin the hard discussion that needs to occur between cultures. My friend, James Hill said it best in his article "Don’t Invite Me to the Table (Allow Me to Help You Turn it over and Take it out)"

However, I am fervently convinced that we cannot have constructive dialogue until we are first willing to partake in deconstructive dialogue. I believe with all my heart that if our unity is based on a fallacy, blessed be division. Moreover, I am all for inclusion, however, when our ‘inclusion’ is used as a subtle tactic to eviscerate a movement of all its raw and influential potency, it becomes nothing more than a co-opted tool of Satan and must be extinguished at the root. It does us no good to ornately decorate a table in the midst of burning house. We preserve ourselves, not by taking a seat at a table that is sure to be consumed in fire, but, rather, by having enough sense to know that sitting down is not what we need to be doing as the roof is caving in on us.I understand that removing a table concretized in moral folklore is never easy. Many have taken pride in the so-called table of reconciliation. You’ve told many jokes on this table. You’ve shared countless half-off appetizers on this table. There is no way you can muster the strength and courage to flip over the table of unseen power and privilege. Don’t worry, we see your struggle.Allow us to help you take it out. We never liked that table anyway.

I am thankful to be apart of a generation willing to get dirty and tear off the roofs of oppression. A generation willing to go to bat for one another. This movement happening in Ferguson, Hong Kong and all over the nation and world is about people of all colors standing up for freedom and saying NO MORE.hong kong protestComment below, I would love to hear your thoughts.signature-wordpress

Solitude

I have just spent 20 days in Solitude. No social media. Now I thought this would be easy, I even tried to journal about my experience daily and I'll include a few entries below.

Day one of solitude and I've probably looked at my phone to click on Instagram or Twitter about 15-20 times already. Giving up Facebook hasn't been that bad since signed off a few days ago but I was still looking at instagram. Pretty much all the pics on instagram are on fb which means I'm not missing anything. So thus, I strip away instagram and twitter along with fb and I am in for 20 solid days of no social media. I may not know what to do with myself. The whole purpose of me doing this is to read and pray and write. And get my head on straight. Whatever that looks like. Who is really "straight" and perfectly together? No one. Absolutely no one. So whatever. I'm trying to get focused.

Its been two hours of me being at home and I feel like my brain is going crazy. I am trying to find something to do. I feel like time is passing by slowly. I sit and read (I am seriously enjoying 7 by Jen Hatmaker. Get the book and read it.). Yep, only 20 minutes has passed. Also, I'm not watching my shows this week so things are quiet in my room, real quiet.

My mom asked me to go run so I conceded with the motivation that I was going to stop at the galleria and get a Cinnabon. Yes. I love Cinnabon and I haven’t had one in a year. So I felt that I could negate my run eat 880 calories unashamedly. At least I ran to get it and ran home to eat it? That probably doesn’t make this any better. Oh well:)

ImageMy cinnabon. 

Even with our little detour, my mom and I still finished our 3 miles in under 30 minutes. She ran while eating ice cream and I ran with my cinnabon. It was quite hilarious & a great memory.--The rest of the 20 days consisted of me reading, praying, and seeking God. Truly letting go of old stuff that has hindered me and recieving healing in areas I didn't know needed healing. It's really freeing to just be honest with yourself but it's also painful. Those 20 days were full of joy, pain, and surrender.On my last day I wrote this:

Its only fitting that at the end of this solitude time away from social media that I finish 7 by Jen Hatmaker and cry. lol This is becoming quite typical of me. My emotions and passion meet and often I am crying happy/sad tears at the same time.

During solitude, I have learned my entitlement to the "best" has led me farther from God because I was the one choosing my will. My vision was so blurred and I couldn't hear God's subtle whispers. I felt like I was doing everything right and yet nothing was going my way. I have served God faithfully and stayed out of "trouble". I would think to myself: "For real God, quit playing, I know I haven't been acting crazy and stuff. Have you forgotten about me?" My actions were "right" but my heart was all wrong. "The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" Jeremiah 17:9

No amount of perfection will help you to earn what you want. Entitelment doesn't move the hand of God. Any blessing we receive is simply because he loves us. Not because of how good we are. So here I am passionately pursing the heart of God (or so I thought) and nothing is going my way. I thought I deserved what my heat desired in the timing I wanted and the way I wanted. Instead, God is closing doors left and right. I am trying to go back and open them.

I had it all wrong. Not a little wrong but all wrong. I have wrestled with these feelings of entitlement for so long. I have wrestled with feeling left out. I was too focused on everyone else's lane/life and comparing my journey to theirs. This toxic mentality did not bring me closer to the heart of God. It led me further away from him.

In my solitude I was sweetly broken. Humbled. Put in a place to really hear His heart and repent for my selfish behavior. It was so ugly and awful. It's in my ugly and awful moments that I am thankful for his unconditional love. He loves me well and displayed his unconditional love through my family and friends over those 20 days. I am truly blessed to be loved by such an amazing group of people.

Of course I ended my solitude time in His presence at his feet with some amazing women. God met me there.

Untitled.jpg