Back in Black

Trends come and go: skinny jeans, leg warmers, shoulder pads.  Even being ethnic has seen its trendy times: Lisa Bonet was more popular than Tempestt Bledsoe, Al B Sure got more girls than Keith Sweat. We moved to Tyson becoming the best dark chocolate on the scene. The black trend ceased when JLo, Mariah Carey and Salma Hyack rose to stardom or the introduction of Bollywood's popularity. 

Last night, I realized it is, yet again, trendy to be Black! I've been Black all my life, so I never realized when my skin tone was or wasn't popular.

Dinner last night was interesting.  It's always fun to dine with my girlfriend when she comes to town.  I covet her shoes and secretly plot to steal them off her feet. But that's a blog for another day.  Last night, her son declared he is no longer Caucasian and that he wished he was raised in a Black family. Um yeah, right kid. He even attempted to use the N-word referring to his bros.  This put me off guard.  After that exchange all I could think of is that this kid listens to too much Eminem. Here we go again with non-Blacks thinking it's cool as long as you come off as "down" to use the term. Hell-to-the-naw and if he uses it in the wrong presence, he will receive the brutal end of a nasty beat down. I asked his mom to have their good friend who is from a small town in East Texas where they probably just recently removed the segregation signs from public places to have a serious talk about what it really means to be Black.

We ended the night with her son insisting that he was Black. And I left it with "you are an honorary Black person".  Knowing this is just a trend, I am hopeful he will grow out of it and soon.  But this lead to me think what the constant distinction will do to his thinking.  I have a another very good friend that we jokingly said was Black on the inside.

I am used to being the token among my friends.  I was 1 of 2 Black kids (at least I think there was another) in my HS class. I was never in an all-Black situation (excluding my family) until the day my parents dropped me off at Tuskegee Institute. I have been accused of acting white, wanting to be white, sounding white - etc. etc. Although lately, I've been told I have a Texas accent (time to move). Sue me that I don't sound ignorant, country, uneducated. No, I'm not saying all Blacks sound ignorant the moment they open their mouths. I am saying that when I meet people face to face after having telephone conversations, their favorite line is "Oh, I didn't think you were Black".

I guess I will never understand why we have to lay claim to other ethnic backgrounds. I know that I am lucky to be Black, educated and employed - I'm not blind to that. But I don't wake up every day saying I wish I was Anglo or Latin or male.  I may wake up wishing I had curly hair - but that's what weave is for. Being a minority is never easy but I wouldn't trade it for another lifestyle.

Thank goodness for the few of us who are colorblind and see each other for who we are inside and not the tan we wear on the outside.

Let's play the blame game...

Or not.

There's a 3-part series happening over on The Root that has me a bit miffed because it's just full of BS excuses as to why more Black women are overweight vs. the rest of the population and that they can't figure out how to combat it.

It's been about 2 hours since I wrote this first sentence which gave me time to mull it over (and finish reading the series).  I guess what set me off on a tangent is that the author doesn't want to hear that this obesity issue is attributed to "eating too much and moving too little"; that weight gain/loss is directly tied to our emotion states.

Ok, let's say LaShaune's been a size 14 girl ever since I can remember. The lowest weight for me was 135 my freshman year in college (way back in the day) and that was only because I had to meet weight in order to maintain my ROTC scholarship (I never made the 132 weight requirement). LaShaune was an active girl throughout HS and college, playing tennis, faking the run for ROTC, etc. I suffered a traumatic event in college and moved back home with family. I still played tennis after working through my crap in 1991-1992. Woo hoo, got a call to move to NYC in 1997. Moved back to Houston in 2001, finally stepped on a scale - 191 (I think).  Joined a gym, got a trainer, got down to 173 (or somewhere close). More crap happened compounded by back issues and finally surgery in 2005 - moved to 203 (my highest weight). Entered a weight loss study, dropped to 165 at the end of the study (learned diet and exercise and emotional support/control).  Now, I'm working towards getting to 150 (the magic number).

Yes, I've suffered abuse. Yes, I've been depressed (did I mentioned I moved back to Houston from NYC - who the heck moves FROM the best place in the US?). Yes, I've seen a therapist. Yes, I've talked with girlfriends.  Yes, I've been on medication for my depression. Yes, I've done diet pills, weight watchers, joined and dropped gyms. Yes, I'm Black and female.

Let's face it - losing weight is hard as hell! Staying motivated, eating the right things, not overeating when stuff goes to pot or just hanging out friends.  It's not easy...

We ladies, regardless of melanin content, deal with stress, abuse, depression, daily life in various manners. And to say that Black women have it worse than others just continues to compound the issue that we're somehow wired differently from the rest of the human race. I think it's a total crock of crap and that Black women need to wake up and realize that if we don't start taking care of ourselves, that being "thick" really isn't healthy, we will end up 6 feet under. I think we've bought into the Vogue idea of beauty and lost sight of what's really important - not being diabetic with high blood pressure and high cholesterol.

I'm not here to be a size 8 squeezing into a pair of Calvin's like Oprah did way back when diet pills hit the scene. I'm here to learn how to be healthy and hopefully impose that healthy attitude on others.