The title of this blog entry came to me last December, well before the contents of the story did. My initial thought was to write a little commentary about sisterly love and how us descendants of Eve should cherish one another. Of course my brain's "to do" list is a scroll a thousand miles long and this blog got pushed to the side, as did the others. Low and behold, a friend of mine sent me the following video as a funny forward - something we should look at and laugh. (There's a 15-second commercial prior to the video)
Prior to that debacle, the following video of some high school cheerleaders in Lakeland, Florida made headlines across the country:
Well, I can't explain how mortified I was after watching those moments of gross hatred and rage. I was horrified, disturbed, angered...I don't think the thesaurus hosts enough adjectives for me to list to emphasize how enraged I was. I think I was more appauled that this was something being glorified on the world wide web. I browsed through some of the viewers comments and some choice words range from Chris Tucker's infamous Friday line: "[She] got knocked the f--- out man!" to thoughts of semi-concern: "That's terrible. Dag, where was her girls to back her up?"
For those of you who don't know me well, one of my favorite lines is "Am/Was I high?" when describing a moment I missed or something I don't comprehend. I call these lovely axioms Prannie-isms, if you will. My blogs are colored with them so grab a pen and enjoy the ride. But I digress. Was I high when the memo went out stating that degrading every principle women were raised on is socially acceptable and forage for knee-slapping laughter, hand claps and meaningless conversation? Like a Dilbert desk calendar? After doing a little digging, I found that outlets such as Youtube are littered with these kinds of videos: girls, young ladies and/or women pounding at each other's faces, clawing at each other's throats, ravening for each other's blood with the ferociousness of a wild animal on it's prey. It's almost as if there's a visual fixation for this lunacy. Are we gathering our habits from snippets on the Discovery Channel?
Having just turned 29 proves that I was not born in the Stone Age. However, the time I came up in seems light years from today. As a child, growing up in a family where the carriers of estrogen outnumbered the carriers of testosterone, I was raised with such a heightened sense of the unparalleled exquisiteness that is being a woman, I wouldn't dare disgrace it by marring another young woman.
Of course, as with all children, there were arguments over dolls or whose turn it was to control the tv. And naturally there was hair-pulling at times when the debates got a little heated like if my friends and I were discussing which one of us would marry "the cute one" from KrissKross. In East New York, Brooklyn, not complying with the strict rules of double-dutch would definitely get you mangled in fisticuffs and possibly chased home. But never did we harbor the anger I see displayed in these videos. And for what reason? Apparently, the young cheerleaders from Lakeland, Florida wanted to gang up on the victim and record it just so they could upload the video onto Youtube and become world-reknown. Like they were going to be crowned WWE Champions. Had I ever been in the street fighting to the death like some of the battles I've seen on the net, it would have been my last venture outside, and also the last time I could sit down comfortably, after my parents got a hold of me.
If these young women are not fighting, they're stripping! A couple of weeks ago, I went to a parade here in the city with my mother. There were a host of marching bands, complete with dancers, both pre-teened and late teenaged groups. Well, they were doing some dance steps and gyrations that made me shame! Already half-nude wearing nothing more than leotards and a smile, these babies were shaking parts of their bodies they weren't even familar with yet and lifting their limbs high in the air, displaying their mother nature to an audience of oggling, drooling, hormonal young men. One poor young lady's corset shifted during a dance move and slid down below her breats. She was unaware and both she and her exposed breasts continued to strut to the syncopated rhythm of the drum masters. You could see the expression of bufuddlement on her face as she watched cameras and camera phones flash in her direction.
After being devastated by the sea of thighs and breats of tender-aged young girls, I decided to go home. Had I stayed a moment longer, it would have been mere seconds before I ran out into the mouth of the parade, grabbed every one of those young women and pulled them close to my bossom like a mother craddles a baby. I wanted to tell each one what resplendent, young, creations of God they were. Explain to them that their insides were too precious to be paraded around outside. I had this urge to yell at them that they were beautiful and needn't have to take off their clothes, nor swivel their midsections, to receive attention. Treat a man to the ultimate thrill by exposing to him 3 pounds of flesh that will really leave an impression of you...your brain. And to expose that, you will have to shed nothing but self-doubt and gain self-esteem. In my mind I could hear the voice of the incomparable Ms. Jill Scott crooning these befitting lyrics, "Lord, let [them] recognize the magnificence You created! She’s been degraded, exploited, NOT celebrated. Saturated with self hatred!"
I remember one day during my freshman year of high school, the seniors gathered my entire class together so that we may air out any differences between the sexes. The topic was how the guys treat the girls. One gentleman said, "Yeah well, some of these girls don't even respect themselves. And that's how they get treated sometimes." I can remember boiling with anger and saying "You must respect a woman even when she doesn't have the wherewithall to respect herself! Even if she's a bum on the street or a prostitute and YOU don't feel she deserves to be respected!" I felt like one of the students from EastSide High yelling at the mayor in defense of Joe Clark in Lean On Me, lol. But again, I digress. A woman is a lady and by being just that, she's earned the right to have your respect.
Prior to that debacle, the following video of some high school cheerleaders in Lakeland, Florida made headlines across the country:
Well, I can't explain how mortified I was after watching those moments of gross hatred and rage. I was horrified, disturbed, angered...I don't think the thesaurus hosts enough adjectives for me to list to emphasize how enraged I was. I think I was more appauled that this was something being glorified on the world wide web. I browsed through some of the viewers comments and some choice words range from Chris Tucker's infamous Friday line: "[She] got knocked the f--- out man!" to thoughts of semi-concern: "That's terrible. Dag, where was her girls to back her up?"
For those of you who don't know me well, one of my favorite lines is "Am/Was I high?" when describing a moment I missed or something I don't comprehend. I call these lovely axioms Prannie-isms, if you will. My blogs are colored with them so grab a pen and enjoy the ride. But I digress. Was I high when the memo went out stating that degrading every principle women were raised on is socially acceptable and forage for knee-slapping laughter, hand claps and meaningless conversation? Like a Dilbert desk calendar? After doing a little digging, I found that outlets such as Youtube are littered with these kinds of videos: girls, young ladies and/or women pounding at each other's faces, clawing at each other's throats, ravening for each other's blood with the ferociousness of a wild animal on it's prey. It's almost as if there's a visual fixation for this lunacy. Are we gathering our habits from snippets on the Discovery Channel?
Having just turned 29 proves that I was not born in the Stone Age. However, the time I came up in seems light years from today. As a child, growing up in a family where the carriers of estrogen outnumbered the carriers of testosterone, I was raised with such a heightened sense of the unparalleled exquisiteness that is being a woman, I wouldn't dare disgrace it by marring another young woman.
Of course, as with all children, there were arguments over dolls or whose turn it was to control the tv. And naturally there was hair-pulling at times when the debates got a little heated like if my friends and I were discussing which one of us would marry "the cute one" from KrissKross. In East New York, Brooklyn, not complying with the strict rules of double-dutch would definitely get you mangled in fisticuffs and possibly chased home. But never did we harbor the anger I see displayed in these videos. And for what reason? Apparently, the young cheerleaders from Lakeland, Florida wanted to gang up on the victim and record it just so they could upload the video onto Youtube and become world-reknown. Like they were going to be crowned WWE Champions. Had I ever been in the street fighting to the death like some of the battles I've seen on the net, it would have been my last venture outside, and also the last time I could sit down comfortably, after my parents got a hold of me.
If these young women are not fighting, they're stripping! A couple of weeks ago, I went to a parade here in the city with my mother. There were a host of marching bands, complete with dancers, both pre-teened and late teenaged groups. Well, they were doing some dance steps and gyrations that made me shame! Already half-nude wearing nothing more than leotards and a smile, these babies were shaking parts of their bodies they weren't even familar with yet and lifting their limbs high in the air, displaying their mother nature to an audience of oggling, drooling, hormonal young men. One poor young lady's corset shifted during a dance move and slid down below her breats. She was unaware and both she and her exposed breasts continued to strut to the syncopated rhythm of the drum masters. You could see the expression of bufuddlement on her face as she watched cameras and camera phones flash in her direction.
After being devastated by the sea of thighs and breats of tender-aged young girls, I decided to go home. Had I stayed a moment longer, it would have been mere seconds before I ran out into the mouth of the parade, grabbed every one of those young women and pulled them close to my bossom like a mother craddles a baby. I wanted to tell each one what resplendent, young, creations of God they were. Explain to them that their insides were too precious to be paraded around outside. I had this urge to yell at them that they were beautiful and needn't have to take off their clothes, nor swivel their midsections, to receive attention. Treat a man to the ultimate thrill by exposing to him 3 pounds of flesh that will really leave an impression of you...your brain. And to expose that, you will have to shed nothing but self-doubt and gain self-esteem. In my mind I could hear the voice of the incomparable Ms. Jill Scott crooning these befitting lyrics, "Lord, let [them] recognize the magnificence You created! She’s been degraded, exploited, NOT celebrated. Saturated with self hatred!"
I remember one day during my freshman year of high school, the seniors gathered my entire class together so that we may air out any differences between the sexes. The topic was how the guys treat the girls. One gentleman said, "Yeah well, some of these girls don't even respect themselves. And that's how they get treated sometimes." I can remember boiling with anger and saying "You must respect a woman even when she doesn't have the wherewithall to respect herself! Even if she's a bum on the street or a prostitute and YOU don't feel she deserves to be respected!" I felt like one of the students from EastSide High yelling at the mayor in defense of Joe Clark in Lean On Me, lol. But again, I digress. A woman is a lady and by being just that, she's earned the right to have your respect.
My prayer for these young women is to realize their power, for only then can they see the worth of themselves and other women. Equipped with this knowledge, maybe they'll think twice before taking a swing or stab at another female. A woman is such a delicate, emotional being, created from only the rib of man, yet we bring forth life. And because of that, bear most of the world's pain. A lady is to be celebrated and adored, admired and worshipped because we are creative, stalwart in mind and body, refined and rugged, intelligent, astute and confident, and oft-times misunderstood because of these complexities. And we're the weaker sex. So men, imagine what you are capable of?
I get so perturbed by topics such as this because I know how I feel about beings of the female persuasion. I have been raised by, befriended, lived in close proximity to, studied with, worked with and by happenstance have just run into some of the most amazing women roaming Earth! That's right, I mean you reading this blog. Yes, you gurl! My wish is that each of you worship yourself today. You're a gorgeous, magnificently sculpted creation by God! Remember that! Bask in your femininity. And after your self-glorification process is over (take as long as you like...let it spill over to tomorrow...heck, the weekend too), please exalt another woman you know. Call your mother and tell her what a wonderous, she-ro she is. Tell your daughter she's irreplacable and unique! We let life's trials interfere with our purpose. Your life's purpose is to be the best YOU you can be.
A young lady I used to work with passed away this week. We didn't work in the same department, I hadn't seen her in a long while, not since she left the company, and hadn't really thought about her much since seeing her last. That is until I received the news of her passing. Then the memories of her began to flood my thoughts. Whenever I'd see her, she always complimented something about me - "I love those shoes!...Where do you buy your eyeglasses?...The color of that blouse looks great on you!" Never phony, always genuine, rarely frowned eventhough I know she worked her tail off, carried a pleasant demeanor. Every year we would dance like maniacs with each other to all the 80s songs at the company X-mas shindig. I'd tease her name whenever I see her and she'd always giggle. Today, I miss her laugh. Didn't think the last time I saw her would be the last time I saw her. Wish I could've told her simply, "Thank you for being so kind to me."
My message today is the same as it is everyday, we don't know how much time we have on this earth. To those awe-inspiring women who I've had the pleasure of being raised by, befriending, neighboring, working/studying with or just running into I just wanted you to know that I sincerely love you. Together, we have laughed and cried and bickered and vacationed and worked long hours, and chatted for longer hours, been together for the birth of children and the death of loved ones, survived puberty, marriages, divorces, illnesses, prayed, sinned (lol) and much more. Just in case this is our last correspondence, I want to thank you. For, while God is responsible for my being in existence and putting you in my life, you are responsible for me being me. Thank you for being so kind to me through it all!
Just some reflections from my heart. Love is contagious, spread it!~Ms. P
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2 comments:
Ms. P -
Again a wonderful blog. I'm on still thinking about your comment about ALL women being ladies...not sure how I feel about that because I have definitely seem some who choose to disrespect themselves for whatever reason. So glad you are writing such thought provoking blogs and I do want to make sure I continue to uplift with the time i have left on this earth. Thanks for the reminder.
xoxo,
georgia peach
Thanks for reading Glee and for the love. I know what you mean. I know there are a few out there who don't live up to the term "lady," but they are ladies, even they don't know it. They just haven't been taught any better. And there's not many role models in pop culture for little girls to emulate. It's a sad state our world is in.
~Love, Princess
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