Last week we celebrated TH’s “Moving On Up” ceremony where she officially became a first grader. The auditorium at her school was filled with folks eagerly waiting to see their little ones prance across the stage.

When the students marched in, we cheered them on. For 10 minutes, little boys with fresh hair cuts and sharply pressed pants and little girls with fresh braids, wearing pretty dresses walked by with their teachers and took their place in the allotted rows. The two children selected to say the Pledge of Allegiance were adorable, missing teeth and all. But after a rousing sing-along to Lift E’vry Voice and Sing, I noticed something…quite a few of the little girls had on high heels and a head full of weave. You read that correctly.

Now, I am not talking about the little white/off white “church shoes” or sandals with the nearly flat square heels that most of the girls were wearing. I mean 1 – 2 inch heels; higher than kitten heels. Shoot, they were almost as high as the wedges I was wearing. One little girl’s heels were Lucite; clear as every heel ever worn by a stripper.

And when I say weave, I don’t mean box braids, twists or some other child-like hairstyle. I mean these children went to a salon (or someone’s kitchen) and had hair either sown or glued into their head. A full-on weave!

As I go about my day, I hear adults grumble about girls being “fast” or “grown” and being “in the street.” Well, these girls don’t get there on their own. I don’t understand why people (primarily women) socialize their girls to be “little women.” I see little girls participating heavily in the “raising” of younger siblings and doing “big girl things” like buying necessities from the bodega when they should be jumping rope and playing hopscotch.

Look, I get that patents are often over-burdened, but that burden should not be placed on the shoulders of your children. And besides, 6 year old girls with diva weaves and hooker heels are not a choice the child made, that was Mama and ‘em thinking it’d be cute. It’s not.

I am well aware that some folks just don’t know better and it’s high time for those of us who do, to show them. Instead of chiding someone under your breath or clowning them to your people, step up. Open your mouth! Our girls deserve to be socialized appropriately and lovingly, not used as workhorses or little mini-me’s who we project our misguided ideals of femininity and womanhood upon.

We can all do better.

I see you every day. I smile, nod and bid you “hello” showing solidarity for our shared womanhood and Blackness. As I approach, you reciprocate, sometimes weakly, but you always return the greeting.

As our eyes lock, I notice the odd pigmentation, the slight chemical burns, how the color washes out, starting at your throat chakra.

I want to ask why? Why do you do this to yourself? Who made you feel so unloved, so incomplete, so less than perfect that you’d poison your body.

The cremes that you slather on your body that proclaim to “lighten”, “brighten” and “whiten” are speeding up your time on this earth.

You are beautiful as the day you were born.

Pretty soon, that lighter complexion will lead to cancer, the collagen in your skin completely breaking down and death. You will become a spectacle; a backroads sideshow version of the beautiful spirit that you once were.

Whoever or whatever told you you were less than, well, they were wrong. Your shade of Blackness, whether blue, chestnut or coal, is beautiful. Stop stripping your greatness away.

After viewing the web release of Erykah Badu’s video for the song “Window Seat”, I wanted to sit down and write something an write something amazingly poignant, but could not. It was something I had to sit with for a bit, as the video and song directly addresses some things I am working with/on right now…freedom, self-love, authenticity, appropriation, etc. and prompted a visceral reaction, including tears. Besides, after reading this piece, this piece, and this piece, I no longer felt the need t say much of anything, that is until I begin reading my Twitter timeline.

Folks were tweeting and re-tweeting everything from comments about Badu’s posterior, to her co-opting a Matt and Kim video (who, by the way, she says the piece is inspired by and white folks naked bodies on public display have a whole different meaning than a black woman who shows her with intent and a message.)

What inspired this post was a tweet I read that went something like “how would you feel if her cooch was in your child’s face for art sake” or something close to that. So I sat down with my assistant TH, clicked on the ankh, watched and asked questions as we went along.

SH: What do you think of this?

TH: I like the music. Is it jazz? I like jazz.

SH: There are parts of it that have jazz.

TH: She was driving a big car.

SH: I know. What do you think of her, the lady walking?

TH: I think she is pretty. She is beautiful, perfect.

SH: Why do you think that?

TH: She just is. It’s sunny in the movie. It’s raining outside.

SH: Yes, I know it’s raining. What is she doing now?

TH: She’s walking down the street. Is that her singing?

SH: Yes, that is her singing.

TH: I like her voice. It is like mine.

SH: OK, yeah. She does have a nice voice. What’s happening now.

TH: She’s taking off er clothes. It’s probably hot.

SH: Hmm, well what do you think about that?

TH: I like it when it’s hot.

SH: What do you think about her taking off her clothes?

TH: It’s OK. Sometimes you need to take off your clothes. I like to take my clothes off.

SH: You do? How does it make you feel?

TH: I feel free. I like being naked.

SH: How do you think she feels?

TH: She feels naked and cool and free.

SH: But she is naked outside.

TH: That’s OK. It’s just her body. I have a body. Daddy has a body. You have a body and boobies.

SH: Yes, we all have bodies and mommy has boobies.

TH: That’s why it is OK. We all have one. We are all peoples (not a typo, she said “peoples”).

SH: Yes, we are all people.

TH: Mommy, she has boobies too.

SH: Yes, Erykah Badu has boobies too. So it is OK to show your boobies outside?

TH: Yes, but only if you want to because they are yours. Oh mommy, she fell down!

SH: Yes she did. She was shot.

TH: Why?

SH: Why do you think?

TH: Because she was naked and cool and free?

SH: Maybe.

Thanks to Sister Toldja for setting off Happy Black Girl Day, which is every second Wednesday of the month. While it’s my goal to be all happy, all Black, and all girl…all the time, the second Wednesdays will be extra from here on out.

For those of us who are parents, particularly parents of girls, it is our J-O-B to make sure that our girls are happy. Each day as I travel through Brooklyn, whether heading to teach, grabbing some coffee from the bodega, or picking up TH from school, the streets are awash in unhappy Black girls from babies on up.

We have to break this cycle. Grown Black girls have to take maters into their own hands and step into their happiness, it’s the only way that young Black girls will begin to understand and recognize that they too, can be happy.

Let me tell you a little story:

Back in 2003, when I found out I was pregnant with TH, a lightbulb went off in my head. Now, I wasn’t always the happy Black girl that the 5 of you who read this know and love. Nope. I was a miserable mess. I disguised a lot of well, but those who were allowed to get close enough got to see the misery close up. I won’t go into all the details, because I am saving it for the next Tyler Perry script memoirs, but it was ugly.

But I digress…I knew that pregnancy and motherhood were about to change my life in much the same way as becoming a wife had, but this was different. Someone was going to be totally dependent upon me which is not much different from being a wife and I had to take a stand. Once the “+” sign showed up on the stick and I confirmed it with my doctor, my mind began to change. I remember telling myself that this child will never see their mommy unhappy because I have to model for them what it means to be a Black woman pursuing and enjoying life to the fullest. Once I found out that the child pop-locking in my uterus was going to be a girl, my mind kicked that up a couple of notches.

As TH came into the world and has progressed to the amazing almost-6 year old that she is, I have realized that my motherhood stylings , as well as dad’s ways of fatherhood, is helping to create the happiest Black girl on the planet. I don’t say this because she’s my kid, although I do have the inside track, but it is based on how she is in the world, with strangers and friends alike. Seriously, random strangers have approached me about how happy/polite/sweet/fabulous she is.

So this, my first Happy Black Girl Day post, is dedicated to the fabulous TH, my inspiration and whose motto is: I’ve got my afro and my shoes, let’s go!

Happy Black Girl Day!

I hadn’t planned on trying to close out the year with any visible form of exploration, but I was inspired by a few very smart folks and now I cannot help myself.

I never intended for this blog to be personal. I thought I could write about a few issues here and there and keep it moving, but I found that to be a lie I told myself. There was no way I could keep my life tied up neatly in a box and hidden on a shelf and frankly, I no longer want to even attempt to. So with that, here you go:

1. Do Something, Anything
If you have a decision to make, just make it. Don’t sit on your butt mentally expounding on what you might/might not do. It’s a waste of time and will leave you stagnant. Who wants to be stagnant or stale? Not me. There is nothing wrong with weighing your options. We need to do that, but the problem comes in when we cannot get past the options. This year, I had a decision to make and after I made it, it was like a weight had lifted from my shoulders. It was difficult, but I did it and so can you. Make a choice and go on to live your life.

2. You Get What You Give
If your relationships suck, then you probably suck. Seriously, look to yourself when it comes to your problems; not externally. It is so easy to blame others for what is wrong or what you perceive to be wrong. It’s a lot easier to self-correct or alter our outlook than it is to get others to change. Whatever you want out of any relationship, job, or experience, you must be willing to put in.

3. Cultivate Your Friendships
This year, I made a conscious choice to enjoy my friends and make new ones. In fact, I have been on more “dates” with my female friends this year alone than I have in the past 5 years. I am happy to say that my women friends are truly diverse: culturally, financially, sexually, etc. and I have gained so much from them. My life has truly been enriched by the women I fellowship with in the real and virtual worlds. Hopefully, I have contributed to their lives as well.

4. Believe It When People Tell You Who They Are
Yes, it is cliche. I know this, but it is true. Never let your emotions cloud your ability to rationalize or reason. This year, someone entered my life and instead of paying close attention to who they were, I saw what I wanted to see and heard what I wanted to hear and in doing so, got scorched a bit. If I had just payed attention and kept my wits about me…but I digress. It was a worthwhile lesson and I am much better for it. Much better.

5. Love Hard, Embrace Vulnerability
I am not asking you to be naive or become a doormat. Nope, not me. I am asking everyone who reads this to open themselves up to the possibilities. I am asking you to let the walls you have built around yourself (for whatever reason) to crumble just a bit. Love, contrary to what we have been taught, is not just an emotion. In fact it is an action, a part of your being. This year, I have learned to “do” love with my friends, family and students and I am a much better mother, lover, educator and friend.

So now you kinda know a little of my business and I hope this means you know me a bit more. I strive to grow with each passing day and try to see the lesson in everything.

May your 2010 be amazing! See you on the other side.