Consider Me a Political Renegade
October 10, 2009
It’s always implied that intelligent, educated people are informed of, and subsequently care about politics. For the past hundred years or so, every under-represented group has been encouraged to involve themselves in politics as a way to further their cause. Women, young people, black people, Latinos. So, being a young, black, woman, it would seem obvious that a major way to communicate intelligence and education would be to have well-thought out and even progressive opinions about what goes on in the wild world of government.
You might want to take a seat for this one. Does anyone have smelling salts on hand? Just in case?
I’m over it. Done with politics.
Because, really, unless I’m willing to become an activist, my opinions about politics do very little good. And I’m not. That being said, what good does it do for me to know who President Obama shook hands with today? What good does it do for me have a passionate opinion about whether or not we build universal health care or not? Unless I’m an activist or a politician, I have very little say about what happens, how or why. So why waste time, energy and words on something so inconsequential? Yes, these things affect us for better and for worse. But we live in a fallen world. Things are going to go downhill. We also serve a graceful God; there will always be good and we will always have hope. So why worry?
That being said, there’s a difference between convictions and opinions. According to Webster,
Conviction: a strong persuasion or belief
Opinion: a view, judgment, or appraisal formed in the mind about a particular matter
I’ve simply decided to hold fast to those thing which God has convicted me of, and let go of my opinions. Because really, unless I’m shopping for household decor and I need my opinion of “earthy” or “mod,” my opinions do very little good. However, because my convictions are from God, I cannot ignore them. So my convictions about abortion, modesty, the sovereignty of of the Word, etc. are non-negotiable. So I cannot act in any way that contradicts those convictions. But neither can I devote my life to convincing you of those things. All I can do is live my life in such a way that men can only acknowledge that they are truth. My opinions don’t do anything in that regard, and most of my political opinions are just that; my opinions.
I’m always so stressed about what happens and how it affects me. Will I have enough money? Did Bruce get a good job? Am I getting the right education? Will I have to get health insurance through the same United States that can’t deliver my mail on time? Do people care about children? Do I live in a country that champions true freedom of religion? Does my local representative champion my opinions and make it easy for me to live out my convictions?
But why am I worried? Is there not a God? Is He not the final authority? Is He not my provider? My protector? So all I can do is what He has convicted me of, and live my life according to His will. The rest is up to Him. Why am I worried that somehow mere men, mere humanity, can prevent God’s will?
How foolish.
Perhaps the most intelligent thing I can do, the best way to exhibit my education is to hear Peter, put on a “gentle and quiet spirit, ” and like Mary, while others wonder and discuss, simply “treasure these things,” “pondering” them in my heart, and using them to strengthen my faith.
Funny Story
September 17, 2009
Right about the time I’m at a Community College with like, 20 white kids, and I’m feeling more uncomfortable than I have since I was at an all-black church, I come to a crazy realization. I guess it’s kind of been a long time in the making, and I don’t know when the scales tipped, but guess what? I don’t hate being black. lol. To some of you that sounds completely nuts, but really, those of you who know me know where I’m coming from.
I’m not exactly a poster girl for Essence Magazine. And when you’re… not “culturally black,” those who are, often have issues with you. When your best friend is Asian, and you go to a church called Sandals, and you’re married to a white kid from Wisconsin, and your academic goals include an all-girls college called St. Kate’s, and you believe in things like homeschooling and you use “like” the way some people use “um,” and you’re into artist like Josh Groban and sports like Acrobatic Gymnastics… let’s just say the black community isn’t exactly making a hero out of you.
So, that being said, I’ve never had a great relationship with “my race.” Black people think I’m “trying to be white,” “ashamed of my race,” “in denial,” or flat out, “a sell-out.” Seriously. So when people tell you that from age 4, you’re not exactly in love with these people. Suffice it to say, I didn’t have a lot of black friends growing up. Didn’t think they were cute, didn’t like their music, wouldn’t watch their television station, never copied their styles, and definitely didn’t want to be associated with them.
Not to say I was prejudiced against them as a whole. I knew that wasn’t fair. I had a few black friends here and their. My favorite choreographer in gymnastics. A couple of kids in my 99.9% White highschool (lol). My first boyfriend was black (theoretically). But that was mostly it. But I’d say somehwere between leaving Loveland (which was most definitely a hostile environment), I’ve come to terms with the black thing.
In the past few years I’ve relized that while a large number of African Americans are determined to be (in my opinion) complete idiots, it’s not nature; it’s nurture. Pretty much only black person I ever remotely liked as a little kid was this brilliant homeschool kid named Dorian. He was pretty much as “white” as I was, and he was a freaking genius. I was totally in love. Then his (not-so-brilliant) parents sent him off to USC at 16. Let’s just say he made a lot of stupid decisions, got significantly “blacker” and lost nearly all of my respect. I think Dorian made me really look at my anti-black bias.
The other thing that totally changed my mind was the basic death of “hardcore” rap. In the past year, hip-hop has stayed alive, but “gangster” rap is pretty much a lost art. In the process, black art has gotten… classier. More artists, despite their cultural “flavor” are classically trained, and are growing up with more money, and experiencing better childhoods. So we’re not subject to ill-fitting, trashy clothes, close-minded cultural opinions, invariably offensive lyrics, one-dimensional perspectives and general poor taste. Today, we’ve got singers with classical training, producers who know music outside of the United States ghettos, dancers who do more than gyrate, artists with access to better resources, people in general with better educations, and more insightful perspectives. More than anything, the notion that “being black” comes with strictly defined (often negative) cultural expectations is significantly less common.
The funny thing is, I never really noticed that my opinions of myself, my race and my fellow African-Americans had changed. Until today, really. It’s hilarious, and more than a little annoying that it took me 21 years to figure out that there are black role models I actually want to model after. There are black dancers, politicians, speakers, pastors, doctors, actors, musicians, artists, writers, fashion icons, teachers, and even just random kids on the street that I actually identify with.
Crazy.
Finding Joy Every Day
September 8, 2009
So I decided that a) I don’t relax enough, and b) I don’t find enough joy in life. So I also decided to make a list of things that help me take a deep breath and revel in the glory of God’s creation.
- Wisconsin.
Need I say more? - Quilting. It’s just fun, and cool. And I’m so bad at it. But despite how crooked my stitches are, it still comes out pretty cool. I like that.
- Kids. They’re just cooler than adults. I think it’s the fact that they have significantly less to stress out about. And probably the fact that their happiness is so full-force, it’s absolutely contagious.
- Gymnastics/Yoga/Ballet. Any kind of intense physical activity that requires you to use every inch and muscle of your body. It probably has something to do with the fact that it has to be the only thing your thinking about, or it doesn’t usually work out well. And if it IS the only thing you’re thinking about, it usually results in something amazing.
- Dressing up. I don’t know why. But something about feeling like you look your best is absolutely addicting.
- Music. It moves my soul. Period.
- Bruce when he’s happy. He’s just…. him. lol. There are no words. When he’s good, he’s just good. So I married him.
- CHURCH. You get out of your car at church, and everything’s fine. Period. By the time the last song of worship ends, you’re pretty much in an alternate reality. It’s amazing.
- The beach. A quiet beach. Need I say more?
- Blog.
- Bake.
- Chocolate ice cream with yellow cake mixed in from Coldstone.
- Spicy Indian Chicken Curry. If I have to elaborate on that, you’re missing out on life….
- Cleaning. Weird but true. I just have to get started. I always think, “oh, I don’t want to CLEAN!” But once I get started, it’s freaking awesome.
Things I’m going to try.
- Quiet time.
- Painting.
- Walking.
- Teaching.
- Singing.
- Practicing hospitality and charity.
- Stretching.
- Going to Starbucks.
- Getting a pedicure.
- Buying flowers.
- Reading “fluff.”
- Playing piano.
- Going see a play or recital.
- Gardening.
- Go to conferences/classes/lectures about interesting topics.
Modest is Hottest
September 8, 2009
Okay, so EVERY Christian girl has heard that line. “Modest is hottest.” Otherwise known as, “all the cool Christian girls know they ought to cover up more than all the heathen girls, or else boys will be driven to mindless lust by your bare knees and shoulders….” lol. But it’s more of an obligation, you know?
I am relieved and almost proud to say, I’ve moved past the “cover up or else” mindset. I’m not bragging; seriously. Honestly, it’s odd. But I recently realized, I prefer modesty. I prefer to not have my shirt half-way down my chest. I prefer to not have my skirt half-way up my thigh. I prefer not to wear things that are likely to reveal my underthings (top or bottom half). I prefer items that are not too tight, and definitely things that aren’t see-through. I prefer to be cute vs. hot. I even prefer less makeup and less jewelry. Not necessarily none. Just less. It’s weird. But true.
I’ve developed an entirely different perspective on fashion and style. I’m kind of excited to see where this takes me in my shopping, dressing, and day-to-day choices in presentation. I think this realization has been “coming to me” since I realized that one of my favorite “style icons” is Michelle Obama. I’ve never really thought much about how I wanted to look; I’ve always been more preoccupied in who I wanted to to like how I looked. That being said, I think marriage has affected my definition of a great look; I really don’t care who’s impressed by my outfits more than Bruce.
Interesting, hmm?
Check out some of my new favorite designers/looks.
I just love this song.
September 8, 2009
It’s so… Bruce. lol. It’s so Bruce-trying-not-be-like-his-preppy-high-strung-California-wife…. The funniest thing is, I absolutely LOVE this song. Go figure. It’s my new ringtone, too. lol.
I love life
August 19, 2009
Okay, I’m not going to lie; LIFE SUCKS! I mean, I’m just being real here. I’m generally a realist. If I’ve got some wild and crazy dream or ideal, I’m not being a dreamer; it might be a little crazy or wild, but I know that it’s possible. I don’t do complete fantasy; I’ve lived enough life to know that life’s not walk on the beach. But even though it sucks, I love life. You just learn so much, and come to so many amazing realizations and experience such profound moments.
Take today for example. Today I,
a) rediscovered how much Chris Rice and Jimmy Needham speak to me. Especially the latter. Needham is just an amazing singer and so gracefully and simply profound that I feel like an idiot every time I pick up a pencil.
b) realized that wanting to do gymnastics is not a bad thing. Just because some people quit when they hit a certain age or experience certain changes in life, doesn’t make that a rule. God gave each of us passions, talents, and desires with which to glorify him. As long as those things don’t keep me from pursuing him and bringing him honor, I’m actually just doing everyone a disservice if I waste those things.
c) decided that I’m prone to let life pass me by. This summer year went by so fast, it made my head spin. Every time I decided, “hey, I’d like to do this in ____ period of time,” I looked up three months later and realized that the time had come and gone. My conclusion? I’m pretty ambitious AND pretty easily distracted. If I want to live a full life (and I’ve got plenty of things planned to fill my life up), I’m going to have to “schedule myself a life.”
d) was blessed by my husband. We don’t always have good days together. Some days, it’s really just better if we don’t talk to each other. We haven’t really perfected the “Us Against the World” technique, and in the mean time, extreme stress = extreme drama. Right now that means Bruce-and-Ali time = drama central. But today? Thus far, we’ve had a quirky, funny, happy day. These days really inspire me to work really hard for more of them.
e) came to the conclusion that being a highly productive wife is a pretty high-demand part-time job. Being a wife-and-mother is a full time job with mandatory daily overtime. There are amazing women who can hold a part-time job (or even a full-time job!) along with being a wife-and-mother without making their outside job a priority over their family. I’m just not that talented. I do not possess amazing organizational skills. Housekeeping is not my forte. I cannot come home from my 9-5 job and whip a nutritious yummy meal by 6:30 at the latest. Working a full-time job stresses me out so much that my relational and housekeeping responsiblities almost invariably go overlooked. Do I wish I were Martha Stewart? Absolutely! Will I ever be her? I’m pretty sure that I could have a master’s degree in home economics and I will never be her. I officially give myself permission to not need, want, oren be able to “have it all.”
e) felt like a genuis in the thirty minutes that made up my 1 1/2 -hour PE class; I’m officially one of maybe 5 or 6 people who knows how to take a pulse, how to conduct a step test, what aerobic activity is, or why you shouldn’t put heavy pressure on someone’s corroted artery. lol. Small victories for a self-admitted brown-noser… lol
f) had Bruce’s Wednesday Letter done before he even thought about it today! Woot!
Basically, today’s been a pretty good day, and that’s all without even being happy about the fact that I was at school for almost 12 hours…! Life is amazing and God is good.
Live In the Moment!
August 14, 2009
So, I’m a planner. When we do things like, say, go on vacation, and there’s no schedule, I start to panic. Ask Bruce. Every time there’s a minor change in our lives, I feel the need to sit down with a calender, class schedules, the apartment guide, a bible, the internet, sticky notes, a schedule of events from every and any organization we may be involved with and go to town. It drives him up the wall. But it’s not just me. It’s him too. We are constantly worrying, stressing, planning and thinking… ahead. Our lives are consumed by tomorrow.
I think that’s one of the reasons Wisconsin was such a breath of fresh air (aside from the actual, real-life FRESH AIR). In Wisconsin, I had no car, little private space and absolutely no control over what we did, where we went, what we ate and who we saw. Life just happened. It was fantastic. I waltzed in the living room with my 5-year-old cousin, I shopped for groceries every other day, we played Dora the Explorer games for hours, I ate more s’mores than I’d like to admit, I ate outside at least once a day, I stood in front of an open fire at least once a day, and I noticed more LIFE than I have all year. It was wonderful.
I stress. Over everything. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, money, health, time, school, church, friends, families, perfect strangers… and the list goes on. I mean, I even stress out over the dumbest things EVER, like, GOD. I mean, really, why stress out about God? It’s not like he doesn’t have things covered!
So, right now, I’ve decided that I need to live in the moment. I might die in my sleep tonight (yes, that’s morbid, but hey…) and if I did, what would people say about my life thus far? “Oh, she was planning on getting a degree, and getting an apartment, and she really meant to be a fantastic wife, and she would have been such a great mom, and she kind of wanted to go back and do some more gymnastics. She had so much to offer the world… such great potential… oh, and she was talking about going to see some Broadway…” SERIOUSLY????
I don’t know how long it’s going to take me, but I will live in the moment. It’s going to be awesome…
Matthew 6:25-34 (New International Version)
Do Not Worry
25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[a]? 28“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I think that’s one of the reasons Wisconsin was such a breath of fresh air (aside from the actual, real-life FRESH AIR). In Wisconsin, I had no car, little private space and absolutely no control over what we did, where we went, what we ate and who we saw. Life just happened. It was fantastic. I waltzed in the living room with my 5-year-old cousin, I shopped for groceries every other day, we played Dora the Explorer games for hours, I ate more s’mores than I’d like to admit, I ate outside at least once a day, I stood in front of an open fire at least once a day, and I noticed more LIFE than I have all year. It was wonderful.
I stress. Over everything. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, money, health, time, school, church, friends, families, perfect strangers… and the list goes on. I mean, I even stress out over the dumbest things EVER, like, GOD. I mean, really, why stress out about God? It’s not like he doesn’t have things covered!
So, right now, I’ve decided that I need to live in the moment. I might die in my sleep tonight (yes, that’s morbid, but hey…) and if I did, what would people say about my life thus far? “Oh, she was planning on getting a degree, and getting an apartment, and she really meant to be a fantastic wife, and she would have been such a great mom, and she kind of wanted to go back and do some more gymnastics. She had so much to offer the world… such great potential… oh, and she was talking about going to see some Broadway…” SERIOUSLY????
I don’t know how long it’s going to take me, but I will live in the moment. It’s going to be awesome…
