My World is My Stage

Man it is surprising how the ups and downs of life can take a toll on you. I went back and read the last “Updates” post and realized how optimistic I was about stuff two weeks ago. Man, things have changed.

The last fourteen days have been ridiculous. DOWN: I’ve damaged professional relationships. UP: I’ve been featured in an article (scroll to the bottom) written by my alma mater. DOWN: I’ve made zero movement on my summer show. UP: I’ve successfully produced a workshop of a new musical. DOWN: The same workshop… UP: I’m attempting to cut ties with someone I’ve loved for years. DOWN: I’m attempting to cut ties with someone I’ve loved for years… 

I always am happy for the trials and tribulations in my life. They make me more aware of my own self. They allow me to embrace my imperfections. If I can steal a line from for colored girls… life’s ups and downs allow me to “find God in my self” and love them “fiercely.”

Anyway, this week, I HOPE to do work on CPT’s production of for colored girls… I’ll be supporting my good friend, and CPT member, Raymond Caldwell, as he directs Suzan Lori-Parks’ In the Blood. I’ll try and do some blogging but not sure what will come out. I’ve been sitting on so many thoughts just not sure if I have what it takes to clearly lay them out.

My best friends from Tallahassee will be here on Thursday. This will be QUITE a weekend. I seriously doubt that the DMV is ready for the amount of debauchery that will go on. Getting too excited!

Like always, I’ll keep y’all posted.  

So I’ve been sitting on this post for a while, because honestly, I just didn’t know how to write it. What is to follow is a very inarticulate, but deeply personal, expression of love for self, love for others, and a genuine fear for the future. Unfortunately, it is never easy to write these things in a coherent and intelligible manner, so please bear with me.

It’s been about a week now since Valentine’s Day and I couldn’t be in a more ambivalent state about love. I had a wonderful Valentine’s weekend. My weekend, spent with a wonderful woman, was spent making pottery (she won the contest), Vietnamese food, church and home-cooked dinners. Coming off of a two-week stint of cabin fever, it was good to get out the house and spend some quality time. Spending time with someone you care about is always a good feeling and Valentine’s Day is a great time to do it.

Unfortunately, Valentine’s Day also reminds us of relationships that we don’t have or relationships past. This year’s Valentine’s Day, while filled with the usual 50%-50% split “I Love V-Day/Fuck V-Day,” was teeming with talk (AGAIN) about Black relationships. There were comments about John Mayer and his “Nigga pass” and his “White supremacist dick.” My Tumblr dashboard and Twitter feeds were full of Fuck V-Day type posts. And, most recently, one of my favorite bloggers,  Sister Toldja, got into a Twitter beef with Jimi Izrael, writer of the book “The Denzel Principle: Why Black Women Can’t Find Good Black Men.”

It is a shame that the beauty and the date-a-bility of Black women still has to be debated. It has become such a crazy topic that Black dating books will slowly become the hottest selling genre. To me, this debate focuses around self-love. The men and women who argue, back and forth about the value of each other really need to focus on the love they have for themselves. You can’t love someone else, nor can you be loved by someone, without first loving yourself. We constantly tear each other down, out of our own insecurities, which leads to a larger divide in the community. The fact that Izrael can write this book speaks to that self-hate. Sister Toldja’s response to some “Hate Male” proves the constant battle we all go through with our own feelings of self-worth and the way the thoughts of others can obscure those feelings. Furthermore, I believe Izrael’s book, and similar comments from both sexes, speak to a sense of entitlement. How can anyone say that their are no “good” men/woman out there?! Does that not belittle all men/women out there who have positive perceptions about themselves? How can we, as a community, look to have better relationships with one another if “there are no intelligent and faithful brothas out there” or “if you don’t got a body, brothas won’t holla” and other topics flood our social media outlets?

In addition to all of that craziness, I ran into my own personal dilemma that Friday. In the process of picking up flowers, I ran into this woman in the flower department. An attractive young women, probably around my age, was assigned the task of wrapping everyone’s flowers. As she wrapped my flowers, I wondered what her story was. Maybe it’s the writer in me, but I wondered how she felt, what did the day mean to her, how did it feel to know that these flowers, that your wrapped, were going to someone else to make their Valentine’s day just that much better. Did she hate that job? Did she love it? Did she have a Valentine? Did someone get her flowers?

At the same time that I love being in a relationship with a beautiful, smart Black woman, I also feel guilty. BUT WHY SHOULD I? The media, produced both by Black and non-Black persons, tells me that I don’t exist. It also says that, even with my flaws, I don’t deserve Black women. Black women are told that they can never get an educated Black man because we are too busy screwing other women or that we don’t find them attractive if they don’t have fat asses and huge breasts. Personally, it hurts to see these reports, to see unhappy people spew hateful venom at each other while trying to nurse their own wounds. We are at a critical moment in our relationships and something needs to be done.

To know me is to know I LOVE WOMEN. I love their shapes, their smiles, their thoughts, their desires, their entire being. While I love looking at those models who grace the covers of magazines and photo spreads, I appreciate the beauty of the women I see everyday. I realize that I’m not the number 1 on every woman’s list but I realize that I don’t have to be, nor do I feel the need to find a woman who is. I appreciate women who, over the years, have loved me because of who I am. I appreciate women who I can love because of who they are, imperfections and all. Love the imperfections in you; everyone else does.

I don’t know where this critical moment will lead us. As the diaspora continues to expand, I wonder what type of America and Black identity will my kids face. I’ve said it before, I don’t know who I will ultimately marry and/or have kids with but what I do know is that I will teach my kids how to love. I’ll teach them how to love themselves, how to appreciate others, how to allow themselves to be loved. I hope that we all can find that love for ourselves and the ability, to borrow from Cee-Lo, to love the “perfect imperfections” in others. If not, we are headed to an ugly, and lonely, future.