Chittlin's and Chopsticks

Love and Science

2009-01-25T12:54:00.000-08:00

When I was a nerdy lil thing some 50 years ago, I was madly in love with George Washington Carver.

I imaged myself as Mrs. Terris Mae Washington Carver, cooking up sweet potatoes and reading books together with my hubbie in the shade of a big ole pecan tree.

I found out about George Washington Carver in one of my sweeps of the school library at Thompkins Elementary School where I went to hunt down books about “Negroes.” I discovered Harriet Tubman on one of those sweeps, and Langston Hughes, too.

In a book of black and white photos whose placement in an elementary school library full of little negroes could only have been an act of terrorism, I also discovered the ungodly practice of lynching.

But back to my first love, George. I learned that George Washington Carver discovered about a million things that could be made out of peanuts, and about a million more that could be made out of sweet potatoes. I learned that he practically, singlehandedly, saved southern agriculture after the great boll weevil infestation of the early 1920s.

I learned all of this without once thinking of him as a scientist. Somehow the books I read fifty years ago didn’t emphasize that.

“Of course he was a scientist," says my daughter. "Didn’t you see all those test tubes in the background of his pictures?” Maybe I didn’t know what a test tube was in those days, but it never dawned on me that he was a scientist.

I knew he was smart, but I pictured him holding a peanut to his forehead and saying, “Hummm.”

I wish I had known Carver was a scientist. That would have meant a lot to me. I think I would have viewed science from a different perspective. It would have made science more accessible.

I could have been a contender.

It's In the Eyes

2009-01-25T11:10:00.000-08:00

You Are Cordially Invited...

2009-01-03T16:05:00.000-08:00

You Are Cordially Invited

What: Going Away Party

Who: W

When: Now Until Twelve Noon, January 20, 2009

Where: Right Here at Mother's Place

RSVP

BYOS

Viagra Anyone?

2007-10-14T18:29:00.000-07:00

Me to my ten-year-old: "Sweetie, will you go upstairs and get my medicine?"

He to me: "You mean the Viagra?"

Me: "No, Sweetie, the Vicodin."

Wow! What a teachable moment.

Naturally, I had to explain erectile dysfunction to him. It was so much fun, especially when he screamed "Ugh!" and ran from the room.

Later on I took a Xanax.

Get Your Head From Under My Dress!

2007-09-24T14:55:00.000-07:00

I came across this chilling disclosure while reading the section on medical records privacy in the CalPers "Health Program Guide" brochure:

Protective Services for the President and Others
We may disclose medical information about you to authorized federal or state officials so they may provide protection to the President, other authorized persons or foreign heads of state or conduct special investigations.

What I Want to Know Is:

How will my pap smear results help protect the president?

Who is this “other authorized person"?Does that include my ex-husband?

And, can these “special investigations” find their way to YouTube?

Let me save y’all Homeland Security folk a little work:

Yes, Mr. President, I’ve found that Cymbalta is much more effective than Zoloft for treating depression.

However, for psychopathic, mass murders, nothing short of lobotomy seems to work.

Shhh!

2007-09-10T17:35:00.000-07:00

I am writing this from a secure, protected, secret location.

Until now I’ve been afraid to contact any of my friends. Afraid of detection. Afraid one of them would find me and it would start all over.

I am in the Negro Kinfolk Protection Program. I have been given a new name and a new identity—I am now a former exotic dancer with a PhD in physics. I am safe. Some days I’m even happy. If you love me, do not try to find me. You may inadvertently lead them to me and I’ve had enough of kinfolk to last a lifetime.

From time to time, when I feel it is safe, I will send you a message. Wait. Be patient. And remember, Mother loves you.

...and the Winner Is!

2007-05-01T21:06:00.000-07:00

Mother asked for a moral for her fable, "Slurs." Five brave and creative people
responded (private comments to me were disqualified.)

Congratulations:

Villager--you nailed it, besides you gifted me with a story about your grandfather.
Credo--because it was hard, but you did it anyway
Firefly--the classics always work
Pearl--we all need to try your way more often
Dan Harlow--I liked your twist and wisdom

You are all winners!

Please contact me at terrisgrimes@comcast.net and give me your mailing addresses, and I'll send you an autographed copy of Shades of Black.

Paris, Texas--Its Your Turn to Laugh

2007-04-29T15:51:00.000-07:00

West Sacramento Gang injunction voided

Police serve only one gang member wanna-be whom they expected to notify all 350 Broderick Boys gang members

Read full story: Published 12:00 am PDT Wednesday, April 25, 2007, Sacramento Bee

A three-judge panel for California's 3rd District Court of Appeal unanimously and rightly struck down a court order that imposed an overly broad injunction against a West Sacramento gang known as the Broderick Boys.

The sweeping injunction, first imposed in 2005, had been criticized by law-abiding citizens and even members of the West Sacramento City Council. It barred some 350 unnamed gang members from "standing, sitting, walking, driving, gathering or appearing" together in a 3-square-mile area that police designated as a "safety zone." It also imposed a curfew that prohibited gang members from being on the streets after 10 p.m. or before sunrise.

The Bigger the Bra--The Badder We Are

2007-04-29T15:09:00.001-07:00

She has to be an Air Mom! Check out her lesson: How to put on a bra.

clipped from www.youtube.com

Pay as you go jails

2007-04-29T14:50:00.001-07:00

clipped from www.brendan-nyhan.com

Anyone convicted of a crime knows a debt to society often must be paid in jail. But a slice of Californians willing to supplement that debt with cash (no personal checks, please) are finding that the time can be almost bearable.

For offenders whose crimes are usually relatively minor (carjackers should not bother) and whose bank accounts remain lofty, a dozen or so city jails across the state offer pay-to-stay upgrades. Theirs are a clean, quiet, if not exactly recherché alternative to the standard county jails, where the walls are bars, the fellow inmates are hardened and privileges are few.

How long until we offer rich people nicer courts too? Or let them buy their way out of their sentence?

Calling All Wizards!

2007-04-23T14:04:00.000-07:00

I was reared Catholic. I received my first communion in a little white bridal dress. I did the confirmation thing. I was devout. Today, I consider Antioch Progressive Baptist Church, here in Sacramento, my home church. We held my mother’s funeral in our family parish, at St. Joseph/St. Andrews Catholic Church, in Oakland, California. The American Friends have always been my friends. My boyfriend is a Buddhist.

Now, I’m a Catholic/Baptist/Quaker/Buddhist on my way to becoming a secular humanist.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m a wonderfully, well adjusted, Boomer Mama/Air Mom, of African ancestry with the good fortune of having been born in Tucker, Arkansas yet reared in California—at least that’s what my therapist says, minus the back-story.

If my variegated religious background has taught me one thing, it is how to deal with evil. You pray, anoint, fast, burn stuff, sacrifice things, read ancient texts, dress in certain ways, eat some stuff/avoid other stuff, dance, sing, believe…I could go on, but I’m sure you get the idea.

A great evil has befallen our land. Our children are being gunned down in the streets, in their front yards, at their houses of worship, in their universities, and on foreign soil. Babies are dying in Mississippi because it is cheaper to let them die than provide prenatal care for mothers.

And an evil, death worshiping, cabal, dressed in the flesh bags bought on the cheap from old men weak enough and evil enough to trade their own skins for a bit of power, has taken over this country and most of the world. Folks, we are in great peril. The fate of the planet is at stake.

I’m putting a call out to wizards—real ones, not you Dungeon and Dragons types—the kind Michael Gruber writes about in, Tropic of Night, because the evil in the Whitehouse is so great only the worlds greatest wizard can take it on now. And I don’t mean the Washington Wizards, unless they have some very strong mojo.

You may scoff, but enough of you believed in the bush baby to elect him, not once but twice, so keep your condescending smugness to yourselves. I believe in a lot of things unseen, like Social Security, liberty and justice for all, and fat burning pills.

If you know a wizard, please have it get in touch with me—pronto!

Slurs: The Fable

2007-04-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

There once was a very nice lady who lived next door to a young couple who held one another in very high regard, in fact, you could say they were very much in love.

One spring day the nice lady was in her backyard weeding her petunias and the couple next door was in their backyard cleaning their pool. The nice lady overheard one of them say to the other, “Please hand me that gizmo over there, Babycakes.” The other replied, “Sure thing, Suga Booga.”

The next day the nice lady was walking her dog, when she passed the couple next door. As the nice lady not only was nice, but was also exceedingly polite, without a bigoted bone in her body, she nodded and said, “Good morning, Suga Booga. Beautiful day isn’t it, Babycakes?”

The couple next door did not return the nice lady’s greeting. They stared at her until she turned the corner, then they went directly to the Human Rights Commission and filed a complaint charging the nice lady with making slurs based on their ethnicity, race, gender, and sexual orientation.

The moral of this story is …

Mother Needs a Moral for this Story

Write the moral to this fable and win a copy of Mother's anthology, Shades of Black. Three winners will be chosen. Contest ends when Beltane begins.

Take The Duck!

2007-04-18T12:02:00.000-07:00

Air Mom Parenting Tip #17

When I'm trying to give the young folk in my family good, sound advice such as, stay away from the home of a certain distant relative because you never know when it might be raided, and they, the very picture of ennui, roll their eyes, sigh, and say, "Oh mother/auntie..." I say, quit firmly, "Take the duck!"

In the parlance of our family, "take the duck" means, "I know you are all grown up, but listen anyway."

It hasn't failed yet. They settle down and listen. And I owe it all to Sony. Take a gander at the commercial below.

56 Day and Still No Apology

2007-04-14T12:26:00.000-07:00

56 days and no apology from Eddie Murphy, no contact from Biden’s office, and now Imus shows his behind. I offered the services of my public relations firm, Act Like You Been Raised, but neither Murphy nor Biden saw fit to contact me. My rates are steep, but my services are well worth it. Maybe Imus will have his people call my people.

You know what my sainted mother used to say (and yes, I was raised Catholic and my maiden surname is Irish), “Hard head, soft behind.” You people better start listening to me—and yes, I said “you people.”

You know why Imus apologized and Murphy didn’t? Because a lot was at stake for Imus and nothing was at stake for Murphy. Imus lost sponsors. You remember what sponsors are, don’t you children? That’s right Jamal, sponsors are the guys who were paying Imus tons of money to spout mean spirited, bigoted, diatribes that appealed to other mean spirited, bigoted people. But once “We the People” raised our voices in protest, the sponsors took their money and slithered away trying all the while to look sanctimonious about cutting and running.

Remember this children—under the right kind of light, slime trails glow in the dark.

Why hasn’t Murphy apologized for virtually calling black women big fat nappy head hoes for close to two hours? (Mixed race black women escaped his slimefest) Because he doesn’t have to, that’s why. A little matter of $94,815,036, says he doesn’t have to. That’s what Norbit has grossed so far according to Box Office Mojo. Expected worldwide earnings are $150,250,410.

Maybe Paramount’s Dreamworks should be apologizing. Imus took 10 seconds to say what Dreamworks took nearly two hours to rub in our faces.

Children, remember how Mother frequently says it all about the money? Here’s something else I won’t you to remember, “Money talks, bullshit walks” (yes dears, Mother is bilingual)

Don’t worry, Mother hasn’t forgotten about those little rappers out there saying all those nasty things about women, and making those blue movies they call videos. But all of this talk about ill manner children saying and doing things that reflect so poorly on their mothers has got me feeling a little dirty. Let me go take a bath and we’ll talk more later.

Welcome Home Shaquanda

2007-03-30T22:36:00.000-07:00

Welcome Home Shaquanda!!!

Shaquanda Freed!!!!

2007-03-30T22:12:00.000-07:00

Girl in Texas prison controversy to go free early

Teen is first of possibly hundreds to be freed from a scandal-ridden juvenile justice system

By Howard WittTribune senior correspondent
March 30, 2007, 8:26 PM CDT HOUSTON

Shaquanda Cotton, the black teenager in the small east Texas town of Paris whose prison sentence of up to seven years for shoving a teacher's aide sparked nationwide controversy, will be released Saturday morning, prison officials confirmed on Friday. Her release, ordered by a special conservator appointed to overhaul the state's scandal-ridden juvenile prison system, is the first of what could be hundreds as a panel of civil rights leaders begins reviewing the sentences of every youth incarcerated by the Texas Youth Commission to weed out those being held arbitrarily.

"We have no confidence in the system that was in place," said Jim Hurley, spokesman for the conservator, Jay Kimbrough. "And this case is an example of what we expect to happen if something wrong has been done to youths being held inside that system."

Shaquanda, who is 15, had no prior criminal record when she was incarcerated a year ago under an indeterminate sentence that could have lasted until her 21st birthday. Her case rose to national prominence and became the focus of ongoing civil rights protests following a March 12 Tribune story that detailed how a 14-year-old white girl convicted of the more serious crime of arson was sentenced to probation by the same judge.

Shaquanda's case occurred against a backdrop of persistent allegations of racial discrimination inside the Paris public schools; allegations that are the subject of a continuing probe by the U.S. Department of Education to determine whether black students in the district are disciplined more harshly than whites.

"When I learned about this case, I thought, this just looks so bad and smells so bad it made me hurt," said state Rep. Harold Dutton, the influential chairman of the Texas legislature's juvenile justice committee. "I told [prison officials] I wanted her out of there immediately.

The superintendent of the Ron Jackson Correctional Complex in Brownwood, Texas, where Shaquanda is being held, called her mother, Creola Cotton, Friday afternoon and told her she could come pick up the youth, Cotton said. But because it is a five-hour drive from Paris to Brownwood, and the weather in the area on Friday was severe, Cotton said she couldn't reach the prison until Saturday morning to get her daughter. Later Friday, prison officials, who had not told Shaquanda of her impending release, allowed her to call her mother.

"She thought they were bringing her to the office to tell her I was not going to be able to visit this weekend like I was planning because of the bad weather, so she was already crying," Cotton said. "I said, 'Oh, I'm still gonna come see you tomorrow. But you're going to be coming home with me.' She nearly fell on the floor."

Officials said Shaquanda was being released on 60 days' probation to allow her to access state health and counseling services. But after that, she would be completely free, they said. Cotton said her daughter would not return to the Paris public schools but would pursue her GED at home. What effect her release might have on the legal appeal of the youth's case, now pending before a state appeals court, was unclear.

Since she's been in prison, Shaquanda said that she had grown despondent surrounded by other youths who were hardened criminals and that she had tried to commit suicide. Her sentence, which ultimately was up to the discretion of prison officials, had twice been extended, first because she would not admit her guilt as required by prison regulations and then because she was found with "contraband" in her cell; an extra pair of socks. Those sentence extensions drew the attention of Kimbrough, who was confirmed by the state Senate on Thursday as conservator of the youth prison system, which has been rocked by a sex scandal over allegations that guards and administrators coerced youthful inmates for sex.

Kimbrough, a former deputy attorney general, said last week that he was convening a special committee to examine the sentences of all 4,700 youths in Texas juvenile prisons to determine how many might have had their sentences unfairly extended by prison authorities—and that Shaquanda's was the first case he intended to review. Prison officials said it was Kimbrough who personally ordered Shaquanda's release on Friday.

Since the Tribune's first account of Shaquanda's case, her story has been circulated on more than 400 Internet blogs and featured in newspapers and radio and TV reports across the country. Two protests demanding her release were held in Paris and a third, to be led by Rev. Al Sharpton, was scheduled for Tuesday.

Even before news of Shaquanda's impending release broke Friday, the Lamar County District Attorney's office, which prosecuted her and pressed for her to be sent to prison for up to seven years, made an abrupt turnaround and said the youth had served enough time and ought to be freed.

"Let her out of TYC," said Allan Hubbard, spokesman for Lamar County District Atty. Gary Young. "Hell, she's done a year for pushing a teacher. That's too long." Hubbard also backed away from claims he and Young made this week in numerous media interviews that the judge in the case, Lamar County Judge Chuck Superville, had had no choice but to send the youth to prison because her mother had testified that she would not cooperate with probation officials had the judge sentenced the teen to probation.

On Thursday, Young's official Web site contained this assertion: "This juvenile's mother (Creola Cotton) told the judge she would not comply with conditions of probation." But a review of the full court transcript shows no such testimony. In fact, Creola Cotton repeatedly answered "yes" when asked in court whether she would comply with any conditions of probation that the judge might impose. On Friday morning, after an inquiry about this discrepancy by the Tribune, the district attorney's Web site was altered to read: "Through her actions of non-cooperation, Ms. Cotton told the judge she would not comply with conditions of probation."
Copyright (c) 2007, Chicago Tribune

Criminalization of Children?

2007-03-29T20:49:00.000-07:00

A Paris, Texas resident took the Free Shaqaunda movement to task for claiming or assuming Paris, Texas is racist. In a post to this blog, the commenter disagreed that the harshness of Shaquanda's sentence was due to her race, rather it was due to the criminalization of children in the wake of Columbine and 9/11.

Read the comment excerpted below, click on the link , and tell me your thoughts.

If you want to see where a huge portion of the problem comes from, try checking www.texaszerotolerance.comand click on their link of reported abuse. There are literally dozens if not hundreds of cases of children who have been criminalized for what would have been considered normal behavior prior to Columbine and 9/11. Shaquanda's case is just another example of a political system that holds school children to higher behavioral standards than the adults. She deserves a break, and I think community service would have been a much better choice for punishment.

Texas Youth Commission to Review Shaquanda's Sentence Extension

2007-03-29T19:30:00.000-07:00

Today's Washington Post:

A spokesman for the Texas Youth Commission, an agency recently turned over to a conservator because of long-ignored allegations of sexual abuse of incarcerated juveniles by facility employees, said the extension of Cotton's sentence will be examined.

Youth facility supervisors can extend a juvenile's sentence until he or she turns 21 for any number of infractions. About 45 percent of the more than 4,600 juveniles have received extended sentences in recent years. Allegations have been made that sentences were extended arbitrarily and to intimidate
teenagers.

Although forbidden by law to comment on a specific juvenile, Youth
Commission spokesman Jim Hurley said that "the publicly cited case of someone getting a term extended for having contraband which turned out to be an extra pair of socks is indescribable. It is beyond belief, if it is true, and we will have a panel reviewing each of these cases."

Shaquanda Cotton's Sentencing Exemplifies Rehabilitation Gone Bad

2007-03-29T15:09:00.000-07:00

Read complete article
DiversityInc

The Paris News

2007-03-28T16:04:00.000-07:00

Read the latest in

The Paris News

Free Shaquanda Cotton In The News

2007-03-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

Olberlin Times
Uproar over Texas teen‘s imprisonment
27 March, 2007
By PAUL J. WEBER, Associated Press

The Socialist Worker Online
Racism On Display in Texas Town
By Cindy Berringer

CBS Dallas/Fort Worth
Teen in Jail Prompts Racism Rally in Paris, Texas
By Steve Pickett

The Paris News
Smiley: 'It is time for a new movement'
By Mary Madewell

From "On the Black Hand Side: FREE SHAQUANDA COTTON - Update #2: Worldwide Prayer, Sat. March 31st!

2007-03-27T20:17:00.000-07:00

FREE SHAQUANDA COTTON - Update #2: Worldwide Prayer, Sat. March 31st!

Paris, Texas Protestors Gather at Locked Down Lamar County Courthouse

2007-03-27T12:22:00.000-07:00

Mighty Bloggers--Thank You

2007-03-27T10:50:00.000-07:00

It Ain't Over

I'm feeling good right now about the prospect of Shaquanda Cotton being released sometime soon. But, if I may loosely quote Kirk Franklin, "It ain't over." So keep the prayers coming and keep posting. Don't let the fire die down. Shaquanda and 4,000 other child prisoners are depending on us.

For Shaquanda Cotton--Cyberspace Mattered

2007-03-27T08:33:00.000-07:00

Tribune reporter Howard Witt hasn't seen a reaction to a story quite like the one he got after writing about a controversy in the small Texas town of Paris.

If you had Googled the black girl's name, Shaquanda Cotton, the day before the story was published on the front page of the March 12 edition of the Tribune, you would have gotten zero results. On Monday afternoon, there were more than 35,000 hits.

The story has been picked up on more than 300 blogs around the country, many of them concerned with African-American affairs. It has generated thousands of postings to Internet message boards.

Shaquanda May Be Released Soon!

2007-03-26T21:59:00.000-07:00

CHICAGO TRIBUNE UPDATE
Texas reviews scandal-plagued juvenile prison system
By Howard WittTribune senior correspondent
March 26, 2007, 8:02 PM CDTHOUSTON --

The sentences of many of the 4,700 delinquent youths now being held in Texas' juvenile prisons might have been arbitrarily and unfairly extended by prison authorities and thousands could be freed in a matter of weeks as part of a sweeping overhaul of the scandal-plagued juvenile system, state officials say.Jay Kimbrough, a special master appointed by Texas Gov. Rick Perry to investigate the system after allegations surfaced that some prison officials were coercing imprisoned youths for sex, said he would assemble a committee to review the sentence of every youth in the system.

The goal, Kimbrough said, is to release any youth whose sentence was improperly extended without justification or in retaliation for filing complaints. In his initial review of sentences, Kimbrough said, he had found many questionable extensions, adding that some experts estimate that more 60 percent of the state's youthful inmates might be languishing under wrongful detention.

Such a mass emptying of a state's juvenile jails would be unprecedented, experts said. Among the leading candidates for early release is Shaquanda Cotton, a 14-year-old black girl from the small east Texas town of Paris, who was sent to prison for up to 7 years for shoving a hall monitor at her high school while other young white offenders convicted of more serious crimes received probation in the town's courts.

Shaquanda's story was the subject of a March 12 Tribune article that triggered hundreds of Internet blog articles and thousands of message board postings and led to a nationwide letter-writing campaign to the Texas governor decrying perceived racial discrimination in her case.

Cotton, now 15, has been incarcerated at a youth prison in Brownwood, Texas, for the last year on a sentence that could run until her 21st birthday. But like many of the other youths in the system, she is eligible to earn earlier release if she achieves certain social, behavioral and educational milestones while in prison. But officials at the Ron Jackson Correctional Complex have repeatedly extended Shaquanda's sentence because she refuses to admit her guilt and because she was found with contraband in her cell--an extra pair of socks.

"I do have an interest in that case," Kimbrough said. "Based on what I've already seen and heard, that's exactly the kind of thing I want to know more about, if that typifies in some way why sentences are being extended."

Will Harrell, executive director of the Texas chapter of the ACLU, attended a meeting in Austin on last Friday where Kimbrough outlined his sentence review plan and invited civil rights groups to nominate members to the special review panel.

"Everybody in the room thought we should take Shaquanda's case first," Harrell said, because of its high profile. But if the teenager is released, Kimbrough noted, the decision will have nothing to do with whether she was the victim of racial discrimination in the schools and courtrooms of Paris, as civil rights groups have alleged. Instead, it will be based on whether she has been treated arbitrarily by prison officials since she has been incarcerated.

Texas' juvenile prison system, known as the Texas Youth Commission, was first rocked by scandal last month after revelations surfaced that two administrators at a youth prison in west Texas had allegedly coerced sex from inmates for years and that prison officials and local prosecutors chose not to pursue the cases. Since then, the scandal has widened as reports surfaced of cover-ups and alleged sex abuse by guards and administrators at other prisons.

More than a thousand investigations have now been opened. Meanwhile, Kimbrough discovered that 111 employees of the youth agency had felony arrests or convictions and another 437 had misdemeanor arrests or charges.The top leadership of the youth commission was forced out, the board overseeing the agency resigned and Perry essentially placed the commission into receivership when he appointed Kimbrough to clean up the mess.

Texas state legislators are rushing to pass bills to overhaul the juvenile prison agency. Civil rights advocates have long been concerned that Texas' system of indeterminate sentences for youths places too much discretion in the hands of prison authorities, who retain the power to hold or release youths at will. Now the sex scandal--and the concern that some victimized youths may have been threatened with longer detentions to keep them quiet--has prompted Kimbrough to examine the entire practice.

Nearly 90 percent of juveniles incarcerated inside Texas youth prisons were sent there on indeterminate sentences that could run as long as their 21st birthdays. But many of those inmates become eligible for release after serving only nine months, if prison authorities are satisfied that they have completed all the steps, or "phases," of an elaborate behavioral modification program.

"The system is wide open for abuse and corruption," said the ACLU's Harrell. "How difficult would it be for a 12-year-old kid to file a complaint on an assistant superintendent of a facility when that assistant superintendent is actually the one who is sexually abusing her and that same person gets to decide when she gets out? Basically the official gets to say, 'Comply and keep quiet or I'll keep you here until you're 21.' "

Harrell, who will serve on Kimbrough's sentence review panel, said the members intend to be careful not to release truly violent youths who ought to remain behind bars." If kids have behaved violently, then those are the ones that may very well have a justification for their sentence extension," Harrell said. "But most of the cases I have heard about have to do with petty instances, like Shaquanda's contraband socks."

The "phases" system also contains a built-in Catch-22 for youths, like Shaquanda, whose legal appeals are still making their way through the courts. One of the first phases that must be satisfied is a requirement that youths admit their guilt--an admission that would instantly compromise their appeals.

For his part, Kimbrough says he feels a sense of urgency about his review."As fast as we can do this, that's my goal," said Kimbrough, a former deputy attorney general. "Any time the government is holding somebody that ought not be held, that's urgent to me."hwitt@tribune.com
Copyright © 2007, Chicago Tribune

Shaquanda's Father Dies

2007-03-26T20:27:00.000-07:00

I spoke to Paris, Texas, civil rights activist, Mrs. Brenda Cherry tonight, and she informed me Shaquanda’s father died approximately a week ago in Oklahoma.

The funeral was this past Saturday.

Mrs. Creola Cotton did not tell Shaquanda of her father’s death until today. She delayed breaking the news to her until she could do it in person, rather than by phone.

According to Mrs. Cherry, Shaquanda took her father’s death quite hard.

Shaquanda has received a blizzard of cards and her family sends their thanks.

Investigation Continues at Paris School District

2007-03-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

by Mary Madwell
The Paris News

U.S. Department of Education's Office for Civil Rights continues to investigate Paris Independent School District amid threats of more protests by black activists.

The Other Dream Girl

2007-03-26T11:59:00.000-07:00

Meet Dr. Barbara Ross-Lee, Diana Ross's sister.

First African American Woman Dean of a US Medical School
Barbara Ross-Lee, D.O., has worked in private practice, for the U.S. Public Health Service, and on numerous committees, and in 1993 was the first African American woman to be appointed dean of a United States medical school.

Musically Talented but Chose Sciences
Born in Detroit, Michigan, and raised in a housing project, Barbara Ross-Lee faced discrimination as a young African American woman. Growing up in inner city Detroit, she and her sister shared a fondness for show business, performing with their brothers and sisters in the church choir. But while Diana Ross pursued a career in music that led her from urban poverty to celebrity as the lead singer of the "Supremes," Barbara Ross made her mark in the sciences.

No Federal Funding for College When Ross Attended Wayne State
Barbara Ross began her pre-medical studies at Detroit's Wayne State University in 1960, during the growth of the Civil Rights movement. Although a few medical schools offered admission to minority students there were no federal or private funding to help support students from poor families.

Forced to Abandon Goal of Practicing Medicine
At Wayne State, her pre-medical advisor did not believe women should be physicians, and so she declined to authorize Ross's request to study human anatomy as her major. Ross graduated with a bachelor of science degree in biology and chemistry in 1965 and, abandoning her original goal of practicing medicine went on to train as a teacher.

Opportunity and Sacrafice
She joined the National Teacher Corps, a federal program, in which she could earn a degree while teaching simultaneously in the Detroit public school system. After completing the program in 1969, a new educational opportunity arose. Michigan State University opened a school of osteopathic medicine in Pontiac, a Detroit suburb, and so Ross applied and was accepted. As a single mother she needed help with childcare to be able to focus on her studies, so she sold her house and moved in with her own mother.

After graduating from the Michigan State University College of Osteopathic Medicine in 1973, Dr. Ross-Lee ran a solo family practice in Detroit until 1984, when she joined the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services as a consultant on education in the health professions.

Dean of College of Osteopathic Medicine
In 1993, Ross-Lee became the first African American woman dean of a United States medical school. She remained dean of the College of Osteopathic Medicine of Ohio University until 2001. During her tenure there, she reformulated the entire course of study, and drafted a women's curriculum, earning a reputation as a "change agent."

Change Agent
"It is my goal," she said, "to establish a seamless continuum of education rather than all of the fragments that we have now; to be able to incorporate learning strategies as opposed to the old memorize-and-regurgitate methodology; and to train a physician who is just not technically skilled but who is also capable of being responsible and accountable for the health status of the person he or she treats." For Barbara Ross-Lee, medical education is a collaborative enterprise between teachers and students, which, in turn, influences the interaction between doctors and patients.

In 2001, Dr. Ross-Lee was appointed vice president for Health Sciences and Medical Affairs at the New York Institute of Technology, and in 2002, she became dean of the New York Institute of Technology's New York College of Osteopathic Medicine.

This article and photo are from the National Library of Science, Changing the Face of Medicine and are used in accordance with NLS copyright.

Free Shaquanda Cotton!

Paris Texas Case Highlights Challenges Faced by Black Children Across the Country

2007-03-25T01:41:00.000-07:00

This article by Shawn Williams of the Dallas South Blog offers an interesting perspective on the Shaquanda Cotton case.

Mr. Williams is a graduate of Paris High School and currently has two nephews and a Godson going there.

Judge Who Sentenced Shaquanda Cotton Fears for Community's Safety

2007-03-25T01:19:00.000-07:00

"County Judge Chuck Superville says he fears for the community’s safety and is calling for the national media and other organizations to investigate the facts before drawing conclusions about the Shaquanda Cotton case."

The Paris News
March 25, 2005

Paris NAACP Calls for Timely Release of Shaquanda Cotton

2007-03-25T01:14:00.000-07:00

"NAACP president Joann Ondrovick said the group has spent more than 100 hours conducting court watch and witness interview on this case."

Read complete story here: Paris News

Little Bay Area schools dream big hoop dreams

2007-03-23T10:31:00.000-07:00

OAKLAND: McClymonds kids overcome obstacles on, off court

Read this article by Chip Johnson of the San Francisco Chronicle.

These are my kids, evey last one of them.

This is my school, class of '67.

We play Saturday night at 8:00 PM at Arco Arena, Sacramento.

McClymonds-Oakland (28-3) vs. Fairfax-Los Angeles (27-5) for California Interscholastic Federation state boys Division I basketball championship

Go Warriors!

We are known as the School of Champions for a reason.

Shaquanda Cotton--Progress?

2007-03-22T19:58:00.000-07:00

Chittlin's and Chopsticks Welcomes Jackie Onboard

2007-03-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

Allow me to introduce Chittlins and Chopsticks newest writer, Jackie.

Jackie is one of the best mothers I know. She’s also an author and a semi-retired literary agent.

Jackie has three adult children and she says she was lucky enough to marry the love of her life. He is something special.

She has already contribute two posts, Heads in Tree" and "This is My Brain on Motherhood."

Introduce yourselves. There's cake and coffee in the living room.

Carpetbag Anyone?

2007-03-19T20:38:00.000-07:00

Hey, I got a good idea.

Let’s all of us move to Paris, Texas, “The Best Small Town in Texas.”

Low Property Values

Property values are low there. Look what’s being asked for this huge custom built house--$160,000. I live in California. You couldn’t touch this for at least three times that amount, and our housing market is depressed. I’ve seen other equally nice houses listed in Paris for $100,000 and less. Honest.

Charter Schools?

Of course we would probably have to home school our kids. We don’t want them to be treated like Shaquanda Cotton. Do they have charter schools there? I’ll have to check on that.

Good Ole Sixties

I don’t know about the rest of the boomers out there, but I miss the sixties. We knew how to organize. We knew how to protest. We knew how to party. We knew how to get down. We just didn’t know how to dress. We would have a booming commune there by now.

Good Citizens

Let’s move to Paris and be good citizens and good neighbors. Let’s start businesses, hire employees, pay taxes, join the Kiwanis and the Rotary Club.

Memorial to Lynch Victims

We could join the Lamar County Historical Society. Maybe we could join their campaign to build a memorial to the countless people lynched in Paris. History is remembering but not repeating. History helps us see how far we’ve come and how far we have to go.

Good Ole Fashion Blues

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of moving to Paris, but I’m not going with y’all. If we hurry, we can make it in time for Camp ShagBark Blues Party.

You know I love me some blues.

Paris, Texas Faces Flood Threat--From Crocodile Tears

2007-03-19T17:51:00.000-07:00

Bloggers Having Impact on Shaquanda Cotton Case

In today's Paris News, writer Phillip Hamilton bemoaned:

"With Lamar County Fairgrounds used as a backdrop, there was another lynching Monday — a journalistic lynching that started at the hands of Chicago Tribune senior correspondent Howard Witt."

Lynching Metaphors R Us

Using highly emotional lynching metaphors, Hamilton describes how Paris, Texas is being wronged:

"Doused with racially charged words like "starkly segregated" and word pictures of blacks scalded with hot irons and finally burned to death or hanged," Paris is being burned at the media stake by a journalist that didn't get the whole story poking the hot irons and igniting the fire."

The nerve, Sir. The very nerve. The gall to compare the public scrutiny your town is receiving to a lynching. I am forced to quoted my sainted mother here--You, Mr. Hamilton have, more nerve than a brass ass monkey.

Blogs Cited for Causing City Pain

"Consider, said Mr. Hamilton, "this comment posted on a blog: "To the extent that you can spread the word about what has transpired — and reach out to those concerned about the future (and present) of Paris, Texas, please do so. It seems to me that a great place to begin might be the Board of Directors of the Kimberly-Clark Corp., the Campbell Soup Co. and the Sara Lee Bakery Group."

Was that you, YBP causing so much heart burn?

I think I'll buy some stock in those companies, if any are publicly traded, then I can stand up at share holder meeting and have my say.

Remember--It's All About the Money

Hamilton lamented:

"Some folks who read the story will make calls, and corporate officials will remember those calls the next time Paris is in contention for a plant expansion or when deciding whether to close a plant here or elsewhere. Witt's fiction could kill this community's economic future if allowed to stand as truth."

Hamilton Doesn't Get It

Listen Mr. Hamilton and listen closely--This is about a child. It is not about economics. It is not about plant expansion. This is about the life of Shaquanda Cotton. We demand that it be returned to her.

And stop feeling sorry for yourself. Why not directing your energy toward building a museum commemorating the people who were lynched in Paris, Texas, and I'm not speaking metaphorically.

Hundreds March to Free Shaquanda Cotton

2007-03-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

Chanting "No justice! No peace! close to one hundred (I orginally wrote "hundreds" marched, but a Paris reader pointed out that the number of marchers was less) Paris, Texas residents, members of Millions More Movement, and New Black Panther Party marched on Paris Independent School District Administration building Monday afternoon.

The march was in support of Shaquanda Cotton, who was given an indeterminate sentenced in youth prison for shoving a hall monitor at her high school.

Read the complete story by Josh Edwards in The Paris News .

Heads in Trees

2007-03-18T12:41:00.001-07:00

Years ago a friend said, when he was a little boy, he used to hang out with the old guys. He figured one day one of them would slip and say something that would reveal to him, once and for all, what black folks had done to whites to make them hate us so much.

I remember thinking he’d been wasting his time. First of all, there was no one thing beyond our continued presence here after the job was done. The cotton had been picked, the buildings built, the houses cleaned and the babies raised–now go home!

Secondly he was hanging out with the wrong group. If he really wanted to know the real deal about anything, he should have been hanging out with the old women. I love old black women. Is there any other group on the planet who can cut through the crap with greater precision?

I’ve had a hero for years in an old sister girl who’d been accosted in her home. I saw her on the evening news. She shot and killed the intruder. An interviewer asked her was she sorry she killed him. The camera zoomed in as the stately grandmother thought about it.

“Well, I woke up and he was standing over me in my bedroom. I didn’t invite him and I didn’t know him. What we got to talk about?”

What indeed.

I’ve got a new hero, maybe not to replace Stately Grandmother but to add to the pack. My daughter and I were channel surfing on Friday, the day before St. Patrick’s day. We stopped on a news item, I assume, that showed a group of mostly black folks standing around a big tree.

The interviewer gave the microphone to a young person who claimed a leprechaun had been spotted in the tree. As I’m sure you can imagine, that got my attention. The interviewer went to several people all claiming to have seen said leprechaun. The interviewer wasn’t convinced. Finally he stuck the mike into the car window of an older black woman. I don’t know if she was coming or going, but she certainly wasn’t standing around joining in the festive atmosphere. What did she think?

“It was probably some crackhead that got hold of some bad stuff and climbed a tree.”

So there you have it. If you really want to know, ask an old sister girl.

Chocolate, Guppies, and Me

2007-03-17T17:19:00.000-07:00

Summers, I take my ten-year-old swimming at the Sam Pannell Community Center as often as possible. It’s a wonderful place with access for those in wheel chairs, wading pools, islands, and a big water slide.

Usually there are so many little children of color there, the pool looks like a big bowl of guppies with a few koi tossed in.

Being a Multi-tasking Goddess, I usually work while my kid does guppy stuff. Other parents wait too; some even join in the fun and swim with the little fishies.

We had been there a little over an hour when a boy about 8-years-old came and stood in front of me. I looked up.

“May, I have a dollar, please?” he asked.

“What do you want the dollar for, baby?” Black women of a certain age love to call young people “baby.” I am of a certain age.

“To get something at the snack bar,” he said.

“Is it open?”

He nodded with a certain solemnity.

I reached in my purse and gave him a dollar. He smiled, thanked me, and speed-walked away (there’s no running—and the life guards don’t play.)

Why had that little boy come to me? I looked around. I was the only one there in full grandma mufti—gray hair, glasses, comfortable, loose fitting clothes.

I like to think I have a kindly face. I like to think the little boy knew instinctively that the village is still intact and he can still count on an elder being there when he needs one.

He was a cute, little, chocolate kid, with puppy dog eyes. Maybe he worked me. That’s okay, too. It’s hard out there for a kid. And besides, I got just as much out of our interaction as he did. He got a dollar and I got to be grandma for a moment to a cute, little chocolate kid, with puppy dog eyes.

Don't forget Shaquanda Cotton!

Mother's Lesson #7

2007-03-17T02:05:00.000-07:00

These are the young men of our family. Handsome fellows aren’t they. They have the capacity to eat twice their weight in junk food, buttons, and tin cans.

This is a bottle of “Seabuck 7.”

It is made from seabuckthorn berries. The ancient Chinese and the nice lady at Nugget Market said seabuckthorn berries will:

Rejuvenate my body and mind
Enhance my immune activity
Support my circulation and a healthy cardiovascular system for me
Fight free radicals found in my body
Contribute to healthy cell membranes and smooth, glowing skin

I believed them. I paid $30 for a month’s supply.

Seabuck 7 requires refrigeration. There-in lies the rub. Remember the handsome young men above. Seabuck 7 would have been an aperitif for them.

I had to protect it.

So I made a new label.

It was really scary. The young men ran away.

This story is true. This is not an advertisement for any product or merchant.

Don't forget Shaquanda Cotton!

Free Shaquanda Cotton: Leave Shaquanda Notes of Love!

2007-03-16T11:57:00.000-07:00

Free Shaquanda Cotton: Leave Shaquanda Notes of Love!

Children Don't Belong in Prison

2007-03-15T00:36:00.000-07:00

Children don't belong in prison.

In Paris, Texas or Sacramento, California children should not be imprisoned, especially for percieved sins of their parents.

Fourteen-year-old Shaquanda Cotton should be freed from her indeterminate sentence in a Texas prison immediately.

Last night I spoke with Shaquanda's mother, Creola Cotton. Shaquanda tells her she's tired and she doesn't know how long she can hold on. Ms. Cotton says Shaquanda has attempted suicide more than once.

Shaquanda enjoys receiving cards and letters, says her mother. She can receive mail at:

Ron Jackson Correctional Complex,
Unit 2, Dorm 4
P.O. Box 872
Brownwood, Texas 76804
1125308

Ms. Cotton also requsts that we write letters to Texas Governor Rick Perry asking him to intervene on Shaquanda's behalf.

I'm sending Shaquanda a card and writing the governor. I hope you will ,too.

Letter to Editor of Paris News re Shaquandra Cotton

2007-03-15T00:19:00.000-07:00

The Paris News of Paris, Texas, today published a rather balanced article on the imprisonment of 14-year-old Shaquanda Cotton for shoving a hall monitor, admitting that the story has made headlines across the nation.

The following is a letter to the editor I submitted to The Paris News:

I am outraged by the blatant miscarriage of justice in the case of Shaquanda Cotton. She had no criminal record and she should not have received such a harsh sentence for a crime that may or may not have happened. Since she is serving an indeterminate sentence she should be release immediately.

I’m calling on Governor Rick Perry to intercede on this matter and secure this child’s freedom from persecution—persecution because of her mother’s civil rights activism.

Governor Perry the world is watching. Don’t let this be another Tulia.

Black Child Lynched in Paris, Texas

2007-03-13T16:48:00.000-07:00

Creola Cotton comforts her daughter, Shaquandra

Slowly.

For seven years.

The rest of her childhood.

In March of last year, fourteen-year-old Shaquanda Cotton was sentenced to 7 years in prison for shoving a white hall monitor at her Paris, Texas school. The adult monitor says he was not seriously injured.

“A 19-year-old white man, convicted last July of criminally negligent homicide for killing a 54-year-old black woman and her 3-year-old grandson with his truck, who was sentenced in Paris to probation and required to send an annual Christmas card to the victims' family.”

Shaquanda is a first time offender. She has no prior arrest record. She did cause no serious injury, but that didn’t matter.

Now she spends her days and nights at Brownwood Prison trying to stay out of reach of the 2,500, murders, robbers, sex offenders and other violent, habitual offenders she is imprisoned with. She has tried to commit suicide to escape her nightmare.

Just three months earlier, the same judge who sentenced Shaquanda sentenced a 14-year-old white girl, convicted of arson for burning down her family's house, to probation.

"Sometimes I feel like I just can't do this no more--that I can't survive this," Shaquanda says.

Brownwood prison is currently at the center of a state scandal involving a guard who allegedly sexually abused teenage inmates.

Mothers Unite!
(fathers, brothers, sisters,uncles, aunties, cousins, too)

I can't stand to see this child suffer like this. She's already been in that hell hole a year. We must do something.

I tried calling her mother to offer support and to offer her a share of my meager funds, but her number was unlisted--can you blame her. I was able to get through to Brenda Cherry, the civil rights worker mentioned in the Chicago Tribune story. I left a message at her home and I'm waiting for her to return it.

I'm ready to load my car and head for Paris. Anybody want to travel with me?

This post is based on the Chicago Tribune story, "To Some in Paris, Sinister Past is Back" by Howard Witt, Tribune Senior Correspondence, published March 12, 2007. Please read it for additional background.

Monkeys, Puppies, and Pocketbooks

2007-03-13T00:44:00.000-07:00

Three girls suspended from school for uttering the V-word. VAGINA. Come on, now.

When my friend, Em, told me about this, my first thought was this must be another of those urban legends. You know, like the one that claims a certain fried chicken place puts a male contraceptive in its batter to keep the black birth rate down.

But, no, I looked it up myself. The Onion didn’t make this one up. It really happened. Three sixteen year-old-girls participating in a literary forum at John Jay High School in New York state read a passage from "The Vagina Monologues" and actually used that most powerful word.

Incensed, my friend Em demanded, "What were the girls suppose to call it, my thing-a-ma-gig, my good girl, the mysterious delta of my love, or sing-song it like Mary Poppins-- one of my boyfriend's favorite things?"

We didn’t have that problem when I was a wee thing in Tucker, Arkansas. Well-raised, little, Negro children knew boys peed from their puppies, girls from their monkeys, and their mama’s had a big ole pocket book to do whatever she had to do.

Get some burqas for those girls, and send them down to Tucker to spend some time with my kinfolk.

This is My Brain on Motherhood

2007-03-11T13:28:00.001-07:00

I've been invited to blog by "Mother" on her site Chittlin's and Chopsticks. The invitation couldn't have come at a better time because I woke up this morning thinking about motherhood. Okay, I wake up most mornings thinking about my kids so that wasn't a big stretch. This morning I was thinking about washing my hair and the fact that I'm having problems with my right arm.

I asked my husband to wash it for me and he immediately made excuses. He's usually pretty good about helping me with things, but I understood his refusal. You see, in years past, that whole "help me wash my hair," was--how can I put this delicately--a coded foreplay invitation. His refusal was based on the fact that he was sorting clothes to wash. The only thing on his mind was his work wardrobe. I could have explained that I really needed help but the thought sounded like too much effort when I ran it past my brain.

By the way, I have a unique relationship with the sentient being I call my brain. It a fun place that goes off in myriad directions and paths without any input from me. I know I've sounded crazy or arrogant trying to explain to people that I like the way my brain thinks. It's not that at all because I have no control over it. Like a toddler it's forever doing and saying things that I didn't expect, couldn't have anticipated, and often find embarrassingly "cute."

Anyway, the brain said don't explain to husband just go find somebody else to help you. I said, "yes, master," and off I went. I have two kids at home right now, our 25 year old son, Geoffrey and our 27 year old daughter, Regina. Geoff is a twin, his brother lives in Austin, Texas. If any mother has more helpful, wonderful, sons I haven't met them.

Geoff's bedroom door was open and he was putting on a shirt over his tee shirt. I asked him. He said he was on his way to a Kings basketball game, but he would do it when he comes home. He kissed me and took his leave.

I hadn't seen my daughter yet this morning. It was time to confer with the brain. Regina is a wonderful child too. Anybody that likes her will tell you she has a very giving heart. But people never explain a person's heart unless it's something the casual observer can't see. Brain told me to wait and see what kind of mood she was in first. She just appeared to let her puppy outside. I asked, she said yes. She never once looked at my hair like she was wondering how to wash the snakes.

Aren't kids great? I love motherhood.

Slavery and Dental Hygiene

2007-03-03T13:11:00.000-08:00

Fourth Grade Slavery Lesson
When my 29-year-old was in the 4th grade, the curriculum called for a more in-depth study of American history. There were two African Americans in her class, but she was the only one there the day her class discussed slavery.

Unwelcome Spotlight
Apparently neither I, nor the well meaning, liberal, parents of her classmates had done an adequate job of explaining to our children that aspect of our shared history. The students felt burdened by the information. My daughter’s burden had to do with her being the only direct descendant of American slaves in the room--fourth graders don’t like to stand out, for any reason—and she was worried about her Nana and Poppa being in the clear (The class hadn’t gotten to the Emancipation Proclamation. I can imagine how the children of illegal emigrants must feel.)

Apology but No Reparations
Her classmate’s unease had to do with the unfairness of the whole slavery thing. A few of them even turned to my daughter and apologized to her for it. This only made it worse because 4th graders have a peculiar sense of justice.

Peculiar Sense of Justice
I had seen this justice come into play on my niece’s last visit. She and my daughter, two 4th graders, had been doing their morning grooming when the little girl unintentionally spat a mouthful of toothpaste suds on my daughter’s wrist. My niece apologized sincerely and, unbidden, held her wrist out to my daughter who, without hesitation or any sign of anger; spat her sudsy mouthful on to it. That equalized things for them, and they went happily about their day—cousins and best friends.

Please Don't Let Them Vote
Don’t ask me what this means for us in our current discussion of our American heritage and slavery. The only think I can think of is don’t let 4th graders vote on reparations.

Obama's Ancestors May Have Owned Slaves--BIG DEAL!

2007-03-03T11:01:00.000-08:00

Big deal! My American ancestors did own slaves. So, perhaps did Bush's and Al Sharpton's, as did the ancestors of many other really nice people.

This is America, folks. Slavery is part of our heritage. Let's deal with it constructively, not as a taunt.

Pickings must be slim, indeed, if that's all they can come up with to smear Obama. First they cast aspersions on his primary school, now this.

Here's a proposal: No one whose ancestors owned slaves in the Americas can run for President of the United States.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the president of the United States of America--Arnold Swartzenegger!

Why Do I Do This?

2007-03-02T22:12:00.000-08:00

My niece and I blog for the same reasons.

Martin Lindsey tagged me so it’s my turn to tell you five reasons why I blog. Here they are:

During my kid's teen years their response to my pithy little kernels of wisdom or wit was always an exasperated, “Oh, Mom.”

#2
I was married to a man who is now my friend but whose eyes, during our marriage, used to glaze over whenever I spoke.

#3
I am a dolphin by nature constantly seeking out others to communicate with at extremely high frequencies.

#4
Late at night I like to shout into the darkness of the blogosphere and listen for an echo.

It's fun.

Here are some of the blogs that occasionally echo back (the rules allow me to name only five):

Atyllah The Hen

A Girl Worth Saving by Kelly Bejelly

Black American Princess, Interrupted

Carol’s Place for Peace

Oh The Joys (one of the funniest blogs I’ve read.)

And here is an invitation to any of them share why they blog.

Boys, Mothers, and Lovers

2007-03-01T14:32:00.000-08:00

The otter-eyed one in full satorial splendor

I think you know by now, I am madly in mother-love with my otter-eyed, 22-year-old son.

Rachel’s comment about her 7-year-old reminded me of a conversation my son and I had when he was that age. This is how it went:

“Mom, what’s a virgil?”

Having majored in English I had to still my beating heart before answering.

“A virgil,” I repeated. “Use it in a sentence.”

“You’re a virgil!” he spat.

“Oh,” I said. “Who called you a virgil?”

“Joshua.”

It figured. Joshua had three teenage brothers.

“A virgin,” I explained, riffling through that thesaurus in my head for a definition that didn’t involve maidenheads or miraculous births, “is a person who…hasn’t done something.”

“Like It?”

“Uh, yes,” I said, “Like It.”

We were both quiet for a moment, then he otter-eyed me and asked, “When you get married, do you have to do It?”

I thought about it. There was no law, to my knowledge, that required a married couple to have sex. One could have a platonic marriage.

I didn’t realize my son was holding his breath until I replied in the negative. “No, you don’t have to have sex when you are married, but I think by then—when you’re old enough to get married—you’ll want to.”

He shook his head. “Not me, Mom. I’m going to get married and I’m not going to do it—ever!”

I think I’ll call him up and remind him of that pledge.

Love in Cursive

2007-02-25T23:33:00.000-08:00

The other day my ten-year old came home from school walking with the kind of buoyancy only love can induce. “I have a secret,” he announced.

“You have a girlfriend!” I blurted (Sometimes I just can’t control my powers.) He nodded, nearly levitating with pride.

“Describe her,” I said. “What’s she like?

”She’s nice.”

“What does she look like? That seemed to stump him.

Ever the romantic, I said, “Tell me about her eyes.”

After some thought he said, “She has two of them.”

Okay. “Lips?”

“Two.”

“Hair?”

“Yes.”

That’s my boy.

That night when I peeked in on him before going to bed, he was reading Bingo Brown’s Guide to Romance by Betsy Byars. Getting tips, he said. And copying love letters straight from the book—in cursive.

Eddie Murphy's plus-size offense

2007-02-21T16:22:00.000-08:00

Actor's latest movie 'Norbit' called offensive to women, blacks

The following are excerpts from a Washington Post article by DeNeen L. Brown

She is wearing a hot pink nightie fringed by tiny hot pink feathers. Her big, brown legs are polished and wrap around the man lying beneath her. Her makeup is perfect. She turns toward the camera and seemingly growls.

The man lying beneath her, Eddie Murphy, seems to struggle under her weight with a horrified look. The two of them lie on the word "Norbit," crushing the movie title, making it sag like a well-worn mattress.

Above them, the ad asks: "Have you ever made a really big mistake?"

The poster is supposed to invite laughs. But for a number of women, black and otherwise, it's not funny.

In recent years, Hollywood has begun to make some changes in its portrayal and acceptance of black beauty. So you wonder why at this point does it release a film that stereotypes and makes fun of big black women? You wonder who is laughing.

Murphy co-wrote the story and screenplay for "Norbit," about a meek nerd, played by Murphy. Norbit is chased by his obsessed, jealous and overbearing wife, Rasputia, also played by Murphy (in a fat suit). The movie, No. 1 at the box office when it opened two weekends ago, drew harsh reviews from film critics and a series of protests from women and men who found it to be misogynistic and an outrageous characterization of large black women.

Geneva Mays, a real estate agent who lives in Suitland, says she is offended by the movie trailers that show the character Rasputia flying though her bedroom and landing on Norbit, crushing the bed in the fall. "I think it's demeaning to women," Mays said. "I think it's demeaning to women in general because we are all the same. We are just different colors. Women are women, regardless."

Thandisizwe Chimurenga, a community activist, said the movie shows how society feels about large black women. "I'm a big woman myself," she said. The irony, she said, "is there are a lot of men who do like large women. I've been pursued by all kinds of men." She added: "The billboards to me look cute. I was, like, 'Go ahead, girl, do your thing."

Old questions about skin color and beauty...

Some found that the juxtaposition of the two women conjures old questions about skin color and beauty (Kate being lighter skinned than Rasputia), about the light and dark images that haunt so many races and the fairy tales that imply the more fair the complexion, the more beautiful the woman.

Click here to read the rest of the Washington Post article.

Eddie Murphy You Owe Me An Apology

2007-02-18T12:43:00.000-08:00

Mr. Eddie Murphy, why me? Why do you have to make fun of me, a Rubenesque woman of African descent? Is that's the way you show your love?

I'm a fan. I think you're smart, handsome, and funny. I am among the six people who actually liked Bowfinger. But you reward me with insults.

Why do you have to strap on a great big ole false bootie, an avalanche of a belly, and watermelon titties for a few laughs at my expense? Huh? Answer me, boy. I'm not playing with you. I take your insults seriously.

Why this unhealthy nostalgia for the minstrel show? Why has black female fat become the new black face? Work your issues out on your therapist's couch, Sweetie, not publicly. If you want a big bootie and a set of boobies, buy you some. Medical science can works miracles--ask Michael Jackson.

Mr. Murphy, I do not accept your scorn, your contempt, nor your bigotry.

You owe me an apology.

Britney Spears has Ring Worm

2007-02-18T11:07:00.000-08:00

Another scoop for Mother!

Sources close to Britney Spears today confirmed that the troubled pop star has ringworm.

Ms. Spears, a skilled practioner of herbal medicine, had her head shaved to combat the fungal infection. Sources say she is using jewelweed poultices to treat the condition. The jewelweed plant is shown in the photo to the right.

On seeing photos of Britney with shaved pate, K-Fed, her estranged boo who failed miserably to "bring sexy back," rushed to her side bearing a bottle of Glover's Mange.

K-Fed fashioned a stocking cap for Britney and presented it to her as a token of his affection. Cynics maintain his actions had little to do with affection for Ms. Spears and everything to do with containing the worm and keeping it away from his sons, Baby-Fed I and II.

You be the judge.

Your Goddess

2007-02-13T13:04:00.000-08:00

Should you see a woman with nails of one hand polished and gay and those of the other hand naked--bow down to her for she is the Godess of Multitasking.

Worship her with chocolates and flowers. Secure indulgences by presenting her with freedom in chucks of 2 to 3 hours. Worship her thusly, and she who reads in the tub and writes on the john will favor you with one of her smiles that are known to cure impotence.

Joe--I Know You're Not A Racist

2007-02-08T12:55:00.000-08:00

Joe, isn't it funny how good intentions can go so far awry?

I feel for you, Sweetie. Really, I do. If the Bush Baby can actually be president, you can at least run for the seat. Don't listen to your detracters. Run, Joe. Run your hardest.

Obama is clean. I know what you meant. You been boning up on Negro Speak, haven't you. You read Clarence Major's, Juba to Jive: A Book of African American slang, cover to cover, didn't you? You know what a lot of people don't--You know that when you referred to Obama as "clean" you meant he dresses with impeccable taste, he has a certain sartorial flair.

Joe, your campaign needs me. Hire me as your consultant. I'll explain things like this to the public. I'll help you stay the rhetorical straight and narrow. I can guarantee the Air Mom vote. Have your people call my people. Okay?

Words are my livelihood, Joe. They're my best friends. I play with them, build with them. If you want to compliment me, don't call me articulate, Sweetie. Call me brilliant.

US Dept of Defense Training Infants for Covert Action in Iraq

2007-02-05T15:59:00.000-08:00

"We've been called up!"

Remember folks, you read it here first. The US is training infants, too young to talk, for covert action in Iraq and possibly Iran.

A high level Department of Defense official, who declined to be identified for the record, said small troops of babies are being trained for deployment at secret locations through out Iraq. My source declined to state what branch of military service the babies will serve in, although he did raise a brow when I mentioned the Marines.

What the babies mission will be, or exactly how they would communicate with their commanders is yet to be determined. My source alluded to babies being taught sign language. He also said biofeedback is being used to teach them to change the color of their poop. However, he was uncertain how that skill will be used.

According to my source, little known language in the Homeland Security Act allows parents to sign up their infants for military service. Parents who enlist their babies receive a free, lifetime, supply of disposable diapers. My source called this “a win-win kind of thing,” stating, “If the babies survive their mission, they will need the diapers when we return them to their parents. If they don't survive, the parents will likely need them.”

You can enlist your infant in the military by going to: http://www.babysigns.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=aboutus.main. Scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the link that reads, “Department of Defense Login”. Be sure to tell them I referred you. I get ten points for each referral. I'm trying to win a trip to Disneyland and that takes 10,000 points.

Photo from www.happy-baby.hu/kepek/LitttleLAmb%20(3).jpg

Show a Little Love--Buy Mother's Book

2007-02-04T18:14:00.000-08:00

Did I mention...

I have for sale a few more hard back, copies of Shades of Black: Crime and Mystery Stories by African American Authors, edited by the Grand Dame of African American mystery writers, Eleanor Taylor Bland.

The list price is $23 but I selling them to my sweeties for $9. You do know you're my sweetie, don't you?

You can buy them at my store, The Place Where Mother Shops. Bonus: They're signed by four contributing authors including Mother.

Hit that Misbehaving Child--With a Poem

2007-02-04T09:48:00.000-08:00

All you Air Moms, Air Aunties, and Air Grannies out there, listen up. It's been a while since I shared any parenting tips with you. Here's one to make up for my lapse. Remember, these are actual techniques that I've used over the past thirty years. They worked for me and they will work for you, too. (Want to know what Air stands for? You'll find the answer in an earlier post.)

The day you bring your little darling home from the hospital, memorize completely the poem, Mother to Son, by Langston Hughes. Here it is. Take a moment to commit it to memory. Trust me. It will pay off. Besides, February is African American History Month and nothing says that better than a little Langston Hughes.

Mother to Son

by Langston Hughes

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

You won't need it until Timberlake Technique loses it's effectiveness around the preteen years. But keep it fresh in your memory. We must remain battle ready. Recite it to yourself from time to time.

Now, when your child's complains about taking out the garbage, making her bed, or living in the same household as you, and you get the point where your “switch” hand is starting to itch (an earlier post, honey) —loudly recite the poem to her in its entirety. Please note, the “mother” speaks in a dialect common among African Americans living in the Sixteenth Section of Jefferson County, Arkansas, during the early part of the last century. For added effectiveness, master that dialect and use it lavishly.

For a girl, simply substitute the word “child” for “son.”

Should your child suffer from oppositional defiance (actually a condition that the parent suffers if the child has it) or should she insist on complaining about the living standard you have provided by the sweat of your brow, you may want to arm yourself with Paul Lawrence Dunbar's, Life, which opens with, “A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in...”

Now, get out there and do some parenting!

San Quentin to Give Rehab a Try

2007-02-03T15:51:00.000-08:00

SAN QUENTIN, Calif. - A pilot rehabilitation program at San Quentin State Prison will be dramatically expanded in an effort to keep paroled felons from returning to California's already overcrowded prisons.

The program currently gives about 150 inmates instruction in anger management, addiction recovery counseling, and parenting, health and life skills. It will soon be offered to about 1,000 inmates, San Quentin Warden Robert Ayers said.

The planned expansion was announced Friday, as the state's prison secretary announced that California will start forcing as many as 5,000 inmates to move to other states, with the first transfers possible within days.

Corrections Secretary James Tilton said the action is needed to relieve overcrowding in the nation's largest state prison system. California's 33 state prisons are designed to hold 100,000 inmates but currently house about 174,000.

San Quentin will get no additional state funding to expand its rehabilitation program, and will continue to rely on funding from private donors.

A smaller version of the program was started four years ago under a previous warden, but there is no data on its effect on recidivism.

A report issued by a state commission found that about 70 percent of all California parolees return to prison within three years. It found few incentives for offenders to improve themselves, and said those who want to improve their education or learn job skills have few programs available to them.

Information from: Marin Independent Journal, http://www.marinij.com

Hunger for Knowledge

2007-02-03T14:24:00.000-08:00

This is the truth. I can't think of stuff this good...

My 22-year-old announced he is changing his major to Ethnic Studies, which I support. "The only thing," he said, "I get hungry everytime somebody uses the term Pan African."

Oh Lordy, Da Gubanator Done Sold Me Down the River to Mississippi

2007-02-03T13:42:00.000-08:00

Alright children, I want you to listen closely to Mother. I know my take on things can be a little fanciful at times, that's just Mother's nature. But not this time. This is serious.

Governor Swartzenegger plans to proceed with forced transfer of prisoners to out of state prisons because California prisons are so overcrowded people are dying from it.

Can anybody say, “Three Strikes Legislation?”

I will take questions later. Right now, I want you take out your pencils and a sheet of paper and right down these words and phrases:

Rehabilitation
Family role in prisoner rehabilitation
Private Prisons
Prisoners as Cash Crop
Mississippi

Now, let's talk about the situation here in California. How bad are our prisons? They are really, really bad, children. They are so bad the Federal Government won't let us run them any more. If our prison system was a car you could say we ran it off a cliff, it rolled over four times and then burst in flames—-with the prisoners still in it.

Yes, Deidre, I know your daddy is in prison. No, he wasn't in the car. Jose, Alicia, and Larry, you may put down your hands. Your mommies and daddies weren't in the car, either. Mother is using a metaphor. Remember when we talked about metaphors last week?

Children, I know you are worried your parents might be sent somewhere far away and you would never, ever, see them again. I want you to remember you're not the only ones. There are almost one million children—actually 856,000-- right here in California who are just as sad and scared as you right now.

Photo from Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum

Woman Gives Birth at Age 67

2007-01-31T00:16:00.000-08:00

I Pity The Fool!

Parenting isn't easy when you're young. It's especially hard when you're old--heck'a old, as my 10-year-old would say.

You couldn't pay me to have a baby at my age and I'm relatively young compared to 67. I wouldn't do it even if that was the only way I would ever get grandchildren, which is what I think I heard my daughter mutter the other day.

But they're here now, my sixty-seven year old sister in arms, and I'm sure they are beautiful, just as all babies are. So love them with all your might.

Air Mom to Old Mom--Don't try any dunks.

Tyra Banks is Fat?

2007-01-30T22:23:00.000-08:00

Y'all been hurting Tyra's feelings calling her fat--mine, too. 'Cause if Tyra's fat (in the negative, Eurocentric sense of the word) then what am I? ...Never mind.

Truth of the matter is, for the first time in her life Tyra is fine (in the positive Afrocentric sense of the word.) The child got herself some hips! And boobs--lets not forget the boobs.

Tyra has always been beautiful, and when she's 80 or 90 it's likely she'll still be beautiful. But "beautiful" is a word we black folk don't use to describe that rare woman who is a combination of striking good looks, womanly curves, a little brown sugar, and dab of butter.

The word we use is fine.

Rock on, Tyra!

Man tasers sweet little ole grandmother over spanking dispute

2007-01-27T19:40:00.000-08:00

He must have been spanked as a kid--and tasered too!

How to Spank Your Child in a Loving and Nurturing Manner

2007-01-27T19:03:00.000-08:00

Parental Obligation
It is a parent's right--no, it is the parent's duty to spank her child when she needs it. If more parents spanked their children the prisons wouldn't be as full as they are, homeless people wouldn't be sleeping on the streets, and cities wouldn't have problems with littering.

Discipline and Dictionary
There are those who will argue that spanking means hitting. Don't listen to them. If you lived your life by dictionaries and thesaures your child would go undisciplined. So Let them call it what they may--hit, bat, belt, cane, cuff, drub, lash, lick, pommell, thump, trounce, wallop, whale, or the African American special--whup. There are just as many definitions for brat. Besides, dictionaries and thesaures make excellent spanking tools--as long as they are abridged.

Switch to Switches
Now, where should a spanking be applied? When using small, immature tree limbs, or switches, one should aim for the legs. Should you prefer having your child disrobe for a spanking try to avoid striking her genitals or eyes.

Nothing But Buttocks
I prefer the buttocks for applying a good, resounding spanking, one the child is most likely to remember. The buttucks are also a bit more fleshy than the legs or head, and are therefore more likely to produce a clean, sharp, spanking sound when struck smartly.

Leather for Learning
You may want to consider using a leather belt for the most recalcitrant child. The sight of the belt may induce the child to flee dispite your repeated warnings not to. This reaction can be extinguished by counting each strike administered with the belt and applying double the amount for running.

When you must spank a child using a leather belt it is best to have your other children line up and watch. This can be a very effective deterrent.

Errogenous Zone
We must face the fact that the buttock area is an erogenous zone. So that there is no misunderstanding about gratification make sure to tell your child, "This hurts me more than you."

Extension Cords, Computer Cables, and Jump Ropes
I hesitate to recommend extension cords, computer cables, and jump ropes for spanking. They should be used in only the most extreme cases such as when you live in a deforested area and switches are unavailable, when you can not find your belt, or when the child you are attempting to spank is only a few weeks short of his majority.

And remember, whenever you spank your child do it with love and in a nurturing manner.

Ten Reasons Not to Hit Your Child

2007-01-27T18:24:00.000-08:00

1. Hitting children teaches them to become hitters themselves.

Extensive research data is now available to support a direct correlation between corporal punishment in childhood and aggressive or violent behavior in the teenage and adult years. Virtually all of the most dangerous criminals were regularly threatened and punished in childhood. It is nature's plan that children learn attitudes and behaviors through observation and imitation of their parents' actions, for good or ill. Thus it is the responsibility of parents to set an example of empathy and wisdom.

2. In many cases of so-called "bad behavior", the child is simply responding in the only way he can, given his age and experience, to neglect of basic needs.

Among these needs are: proper sleep and nutrition, treatment of hidden allergy, fresh air, exercise, and sufficient freedom to explore the world around him. But his greatest need is for his parents' undivided attention. In these busy times, few children receive sufficient time and attention from their parents, who are often too distracted by their own problems and worries to treat their children with patience and empathy. It is surely wrong and unfair to punish a child for responding in a natural way to having important needs neglected. For this reason, punishment is not only ineffective in the long run, it is also clearly unjust.

3. Punishment distracts the child from learning how to resolve conflict in an effective and humane way.

As the educator John Holt wrote, "When we make a child afraid, we stop learning dead in its tracks." A punished child becomes preoccupied with feelings of anger and fantasies of revenge, and is thus deprived of the opportunity to learn more effective methods of solving the problem at hand. Thus, a punished child learns little about how to handle or prevent similar situations in the future.

4. The phrase “Spare the rod and spoil the child” is not from the Bible but from Samuel Butler's "Hudibras", a 17th Century satirical poem.

The poem, like his novel, The Way of All Flesh, was written to expose and denounce violence against children. While the “rod” is mentioned many times in the Bible, it is only in the Book of Proverbs that this word is used in connection with parenting. The book of Proverbs is attributed to Solomon, an extremely cruel man whose harsh methods of discipline led his own son, Rehoboam, to become a tyrannical and oppressive dictator who only narrowly escaped being stoned to death for his cruelty. In the Bible there is no support for harsh discipline outside of Solomon’s Proverbs. By contrast, the writings in the Gospels, the most important books in the Bible for Christians, contain the teachings of Jesus Christ, who urged mercy, forgiveness, humility, and non-violence. Jesus saw children as being close to God, and urged love, never punishment.3

5. Punishment interferes with the bond between parent and child, as it is not human nature to feel loving toward someone who hurts us.

The true spirit of cooperation which every parent desires can arise only through a strong bond based on mutual feelings of love and respect. Punishment, even when it appears to work, can produce only superficially good behavior based on fear, which can only take place until the child is old enough to resist. In contrast, cooperation based on respect will last permanently, bringing many years of mutual happiness as the child and parent grow older.

6. Many parents never learned in their own childhood that there are positive ways of relating to children.

When punishment does not accomplish the desired goals, and if the parent is unaware of alternative methods, punishment can escalate to more frequent and dangerous actions against the child.

7. Anger and frustration which cannot be safely expressed by a child become stored inside; angry teenagers do not fall from the sky.

Anger that has been accumulating for many years can come as a shock to parents whose child now feels strong enough to express this rage. Punishment may appear to produce "good behavior" in the early years, but always at a high price, paid by parents and by society as a whole, as the child enters adolescence and early adulthood.

8. Spanking on the buttocks, an erogenous zone in childhood, can create in the child's mind an association between pain and sexual pleasure, and lead to difficulties in adulthood.

"Spanking wanted" ads in alternative newspapers attest to the sad consequences of this confusion of pain and pleasure. If a child receives little parental attention except when being punished, this will further merge the concepts of pain and pleasure in the child's mind. A child in this situation will have little self-esteem, believing he deserves nothing better. For more on this topic, see "The Sexual Dangers of Spanking Children" (also in French).
Even relatively moderate spanking can be physically dangerous. Blows to the lower end of the spinal column send shock waves along the length of the spine, and may injure the child. The prevalence of lower back pain among adults in our society may well have its origins in childhood punishment. Some children have become paralyzed through nerve damage from spanking, and some have died after mild paddlings, due to undiagnosed medical complications.

9. Physical punishment gives the dangerous and unfair message that "might makes right", that it is permissible to hurt someone else, provided they are smaller and less powerful than you are.

The child then concludes that it is permissible to mistreat younger or smaller children. When he becomes an adult, he can feel little compassion for those less fortunate than he is, and fears those who are more powerful. This will hinder the establishment of meaningful relationships so essential to an emotionally fulfilling life.

10. Because children learn through parental modeling, physical punishment gives the message that hitting is an appropriate way to express feelings and to solve problems.

If a child does not observe a parent solving problems in a creative and humane way, it can be difficult for him to learn to do this himself. For this reason, unskilled parenting often continues into the next generation.

Gentle instruction, supported by a strong foundation of love and respect, is the only truly effective way to bring about commendable behavior based on strong inner values, instead of superficially "good" behavior based only on fear

This list is from The Natural Child www.naturalchild.org

Spanking vs Parenting

2007-01-26T15:38:00.000-08:00

Sally Lieber, the California Assemblywoman who proposed a ban on spanking babies and little children, is a visionary as far as I’m concerned. My only complaints are—the proposed ban doesn’t go far enough, and it will never pass.

It’s illegal to hit your spouse when his actions displease you, the same should hold true for children. You can’t hit your neighbor when he fails to keep up his yard. You can’t hit your mother-in-law for saying nasty things about you. You can’t hit the guy in the other cubicle for yapping all day long on personal calls. There’s a whole bunch of people you can’t hit—except for children.

How does a spanking differ from a slap, a punch, a whuppin’, a beating? Some people don’t know how to distinguish between them. I’ve read about them those cases.

What does hitting a child teach her? How it feels to be powerless? That might equals right? That it's okay to hit others?

Using pain to teach a child is as barbaric as using pain to teach an adult. Floggings for adults has long since been outlawed. Kiddie flogging deserves the same fate.

Hitting is not parenting.

They Call Me Air Mom

2007-01-26T14:51:00.000-08:00

The other day I was bemoaning to my 22-year-old how I felt I was lagging a bit in the parenting game now that I going a second round with my 10-year-old nephew.

“Don’t worry, Mom, you’re like Jordan,” my son said. You could almost hear my ego inflate. Air Mom! I would go down in the annals of time as the world’s greatest mom. Unfortunately, the dear child didn’t stop at that.

“Remember,” he continued, “when Jordan came back and played on the Wizards? He was past his prime. Remember when he tried to dunk in the All Stars game and missed?

“What are you trying to say,” I queried?

“Mom, you’re still heck’a good---just don’t try any dunks.”

Noted.

Senator Boxer Asking the Right Questions

2007-01-15T15:17:00.000-08:00

Senator Boxer to Condoleesa Rice regarding sending more troops to Iraq :

Who pays the price? I’m not going to pay a personal price. My kids are too old and my grandchild is too young. You’re not going to pay a particular price, as I understand it, with an immediate family. So who pays the price? The American military and their families. And I just want to bring us back to that fact.

The wacko jackals response: Accuse Senator Boxer of being anti-feminist. Brilliant.

I went to a rough West Oakland elementary school, and believe me I know playground political warfare. Fight with everything you have, especially if you started it and you're losing. Call names, talk about their mamas, twist what they say and throw it back at them. Try to make it look like the other person started the fight so you can claim the high road as the victim. Maintain, quite vocally, that you're not afraid of them, but if you think you're going to get your butt beat—run--backwards without turning around.

There were no cute little Condoleesas at my school. A Tony Snow would have stood out like, well...snow in a town that gets lots of fog but has never seen any of the white stuff. But had they been there, they would have ruled the playground with a viciousness that would have left us breathless.

How dare they and the rest of the White House's wacko jackals attempt to twist Senator Boxer's very legitimate question, “Who pays the price?” into a backhanded slap at the Secretary of State's lifestyle. I know they don't want to go there. I want an answer from the President's Condiment, too, "Who Pays?"

Senator Boxer was not impugning the Secretary of State's life choices. I know that and the wacko jackals know that. Senator Boxer was asking a question that needs to be asked and and that the Secretary and White House needs to answer. A question that needs to be kept front and center.

Who pays the price? Condi doesn't. Bush doesn't. None of the White House's baggy, old, men engorged on baby's blood do. Bush has two children old enough to enlist for service in Iraq. Where are they? The American people must sacrifice—where is his? If Great Britain's Prince Harry can go to Iraq, why can't the Bush princesses?

Weapons of Mass Destruction are in the White House, but they are only effective against the Truth.

My Hero

2007-01-13T12:17:00.000-08:00

That's right Oprah, never, ever forget.

Memo to Prez

2007-01-11T14:57:00.000-08:00

So, you want to send more of our children off to war.

I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Misbegotten President—send me. I’m 58-years-old and raring to go. In knowledge and skill alone, I’m worth at least 500-600 kids. I’m computer literate, a good mediator. And I’m LARGE. After all, it is all somebody being cannon fodder.

Right after 9/11 you called your intended war a “Crusade.” We don’t want a Children’s Crusade. I’m sure you know how many little kids died in the last one?

Tell you what, send the two debutantes, Jenna and Barbara (one of my friends calls them “First Hoochies,” but I would never be so disrespectful.) and I’ll bring my cat, Safronia. Toss in Condi and I’ll pay to go.

What do you say, War Prez? Spit out the baby blood and talk to me.

I Owe My Parenting Prowess to--Justin Timberlake

2007-01-11T13:19:00.000-08:00

You heard me right. Justin Timberlake.

Parenting is about power, bending short people of limited seniority to your will. All is fair in WWF and parenting except actual, for real, smack downs.

Intimidation? Manipulation? Payoffs? Whatever it takes. That’s where Timberlake comes in. Enter Timberlake and my 10-year-old folds like a deck of cards. All I have to do is sing these four words, “Um bringing sexy ba-ack…” and the child drops to his knees pleading for me to stop. And he’ll do anything—homework, dishes, cat boxes—to keep me from singing.

Maybe it’s my voice. When my 22-year-old was a mere lad of three he too pleaded that I refrain from singing. He grabbed his crotch and said, “Mommy, please don’t sing. It makes my penis itch!”

My 10-year-old is at the stage where he can’t actually utter the word “sex,” he has to spell it out. I’m sure that has something to do with the power of Timberlake’s lyrics. Then there’s the age factor—I am “heck’a old,” my 10-year-olds words—and a heck’a old woman singing about “s-e-x” is just too much for him to bear—thank goodness.

Baby Male Model

2007-01-10T05:52:00.000-08:00

I couldn't resist. An Auntie's pride is too strong.

The Joy and the Agony of Shopping

2007-01-10T00:42:00.000-08:00

I've developed a new neurosis. Acquisition Disorder. I've become a shopaholic--but only at places like the Dollar Store. Do you know how much junk you can buy for $50?

I don't even need the stuff, but as with most shopaholics, the stress ratchets up and I go shopping. At least I'm shopping places I can afford. Maybe that's progress.

Say, can anybody use 30 cases of peanut butter flavored doggy treats? How about a couple dozen handometers? I'll let you have them cheap.

Men At Work

2007-01-09T17:40:00.000-08:00

Scholars are made, not born.

The Juju Monster and his scholarly idol, Jared (formerlly know as the BonBon Monster)

Bras that Kill

2007-01-09T17:25:00.000-08:00

Be afraid.
Be very afraid—if you wear a bra, especially on that is too tight.

Bras can kill. Dr. Elizabeth R. Vaughan, M.D., F.A.A.E.M., is convinced they can.

“It took 30 years of research before the dots were finally connected between tobacco smoke and lung cancer,” says Dr. Vaughn. “In pinning down suspicions about bras and breast cancer, I suspect we're about where we were in 1950 with our suspicions about cigarette smoke and lung cancer.”

Some strong suspicions, Doc. But you may be on to something. A study done by Singer and Grismaijer suggested that women who wear bras 24 hours a day may have more than a 100-fold greater incidence of breast cancer, compared to those who don't wear bras at all.
In their book, DRESSED TO KILL, they explain their theory. I hope you read it. Stop by the Place Where Mother Shops and get a copy. Your breast will thank you.

New Year, Old Friends

2007-01-09T14:51:00.000-08:00

We started the year right by running into the Guzman-Canos last week as they celebrated Susie's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Susie is the baby-faced one to the left. Her daughter, Victoria the Beautiful, is to her right. The two men are Papa Raul on the left, and the handsome Alejandro.

Susie insists she's only 21, but I've known her for 30 years, so this birthday must make her 35.

Both kids are students at Sac State. Alejandro and my son, Jared, played soccer together when they were little fellows who only played for the snacks.

Immortality is Yours for the Price of a House

2006-12-28T13:49:00.000-08:00

No fair! Christmas is over and all I got was a stupid Chia Pet.

But you can make this middle-aged woman’s dream come true. All I wanted for Christmas was some real estate. Buy my dream house for me and I'll grant you immortality!

The address is 48 Parkshore Cir. Sacramento, CA 95831. It sits on Seymour Park which runs the length of the Greenhaven community. I’ve long had my eye on it as I jogged by (okay, walked really fast).

Take a tour. It’s a jewel.

Buy the house next door, too, and be my neighbor
You’ll love Sacramento. It’s a beautiful town wrapped in ribbons of rivers, second only to Paris for its amount of trees.

Buy this house for me and I’ll grant you immortality
I’ll write a book about you. Romance, mystery, gothic, or science fiction. Villian or hero. You choose. History awaits you. Sounds like a good trade to me.

Christmas at Our House

2006-12-27T08:25:00.000-08:00

MoreXmas

Click for more photos

Reparations Movement Wins Partial Victory

2006-12-22T11:37:00.000-08:00

Art by Chuwuogo-Roy

Eugene Puryear writing for the Party of Socialism and Liberation paper reported that on December 13 the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals in Chicago upheld fraud claims brought by African Americans against 15 major U.S. banks, insurers and transportation companies that concealed their slave trading histories from consumers.

In a 17-page opinion, Judge Richard Posner said that a company that hides its slave trading history because it is worried about losing customers is "guilty of fraud."

Despite clear evidence that modern American capitalism could not be what it is today without slavery, the court opined that descendents of slaves have no legal standing to receive compensation. The ruling said that because of the statute of limitations and the "weak" link between the plaintiffs and their slave descendents, the case was not valid.

But the fact that the court upheld the plaintiffs’ consumer fraud claim is a modest, yet important legal victory for the reparations movement. It may seem insignificant, but any legal acknowledgement of the massive debt to African Americans can only help the overall struggle for reparations and equality.

Hey, payoff my school loans, and those of my son and daughter, and I'll be happy.

You can forget about the mule, we already have a cat.

Bacteria Made Me Fat

2006-12-20T21:02:00.000-08:00

Drat That Bacteria!

See. It's just like I told you--bacteria made me fat. I ate the same fried chicken and peach cobbler my sister ate, but she's a little sprite of a something and I'm rather more substantial.

We need bacteria to convert stuff we eat into a useable form for our bodies. Scientist at Washington University in St. Louis have discovered that fat people's stomachs have higher levels of the "hardest working bacteria in show business" than skinny people's stomachs. Fat folk's bacteria converts just about everything that hits our stomachs, including fruit cake, into enengy, and what is not used for energy it's stored as fat.

Gorilla Blood and a Couple More Octaves

2006-12-19T23:18:00.000-08:00

I always check my voice right after I’ve had a cold. I sing a little ditty to see if, miracle of miracles, the cold altered my vocal cords and left behind a singing voice.

I’m particularly hopeful when a cold develops into laryngitis. I’ve calculated that were I to lose my voice completely and then regain it (death and rebirth for you mythologist out there) I would stand to gain few more octaves.

It could happen. I watched enough movies during the fifties to know what is possible. In the fifties, you could make a paralyzed person walk simply by injecting a little gorilla blood into her arm. A convict’s transplanted hand could turn a law abiding citizen into a homicidal maniac. And don’t get me started on that reefer madness.

Come on cold season. I really want to sing. I’m ready to sing Summertime. Tell you what I’ll do—I’m going to sing a before and after song for you. Here’s the before:

Now, that wasn’t so bad. Fortunately for you and me I’ve found an online voice teacher. So, stay tuned. My throat’s feeling a little scratchy. Perhaps a cold is coming on. Who knows, 2007 just may be the year you see me on American Idol.

2006-12-19T22:40:00.000-08:00

WANTED

It’s a venerable custom, the practice of arranged marriage.

I’ve come to believe it is the only way go. Time’s a wasting. My little BAP is dragging her feet. I need me a son-in-law. Therefore, I have decided to arrange a marriage for my daughter.

They say if you want to know what the daughter will look like in twenty years take a gander at her mom. If you subscribe to that theory, you should keep in mind that while I’m exceedingly cute my daughter is downright beautiful. Given my scintillating repartee herein it’s obvious I’m intelligent, however my daughter is brilliant. But we’re trying to find a son-in-law here not a husband, so enough about her.

Prospective son-in-laws this is what I’m seeking. You must:

Love to lunch with middle aged women and insist on picking up the tab
Be a book nerd
Cook like Emeril and clean-up afterwards
Be kind, generous and caring
Lobby for the return of Arrested Development to network TV
Know Dave Chappelle personally and be willing to introduce us
Be astounded that I’m 58-years-old
Dance like Emmett Smith
Have a passion for the board game Taboo
Discover a cure for cancer

If you are a prospective son-in-law and believe you meet these qualifications, please send me a picture of your dad.

Forced into Retirement by Granny Panties

2006-12-18T22:26:00.000-08:00

I told family and friends I wanted to focus on my writing career—and that is the truth.

I said I wanted to be home for my ten-year-old so I could do more hands on parenting—also the truth.

I told them the meager pension didn’t matter because I was going to have a string of bestsellers and become fantastically rich—also the truth.

However, I didn’t tell them the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say. I didn’t tell them about the granny panties.

There comes a time in a woman’s life when her undergarments morph from sexy to utilitarian, from Victoria’s Secret to “Oh my God, did you see that.” I came to that point a few months ago and I asked myself why I should bother? Life had lost the shiny, silky, part of its meaning. If I had to wear “orthopedic” panties I wouldn’t wear any at all.

There is a rule in State civil service that reads something like this:

Employees shall endeavor at all times, except in officially declared states of emergency, to keep their behinds fully covered. Failure to do so may result in corrective action.

So you see, I had to retire.

We writers have a saying--if you want to write you’ve got to “put ass in chair.” Mine is free and unfettered and in the chair daily around nine as soon as I get the Juju Monster off to school. I got rid of my 38DDDs, too. Now I write in a series of color coded teddies—Yes, Virginia, there is a Lane Bryant—red hot red for Mondays, fuchsia for Tuesdays, Lemon meringue for Wednesdays. You get the picture.

Writing has never been so much fun. And, for some strange reason, my love life has never been better.

Antioch, Oh How I Love Thee

2006-12-18T15:50:00.000-08:00

"Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity."

I just returned from a ten day residency at Antioch University Los Angeles where I'm working on a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. The workshops were thick with creative pheromones. I left with a buzz. I love Antioch!

Last semester I worked with the glorious Alma Luz Villanueva. She was my spirit guide with a symbolic cattle prod in one hand and a beacon in the other. Alma helped me navigate the fictive dream, encouraged me to explore my third person voice, and read the latest draft of Bad Girls, a Theresa Galloway mystery.

Thank you, Alma.

Susan Taylor Chehak is my faculty mentor this semester. We'll be working on voice, point of view, and structure. We'll also finish editing Bad Girls and send it off to market.

I graduate December 2007, but it's never too early to start planning, therefore I've put together a "graduation registry" on Amazon.Com. Just click on the Amazon.com button below and be the first to buy the High Definition TV for me.

Tribute to a Lovely, Soulful Woman

2006-12-01T22:42:00.000-08:00

Thank You

Bebe Moore Campbell died this week at her home in Los Angeles of complications of brain cancer. She was 56 years old.

I featured Bebe’s book, Your Blues Ain’t Like Mine (1992), in a chapter of my final dissertation on 20th Century Black American women writers.

According to an obituary in the Sacramento Bee, Campbell said she "wanted to put a face on racism." She called racism "a family problem." She certainly got personal in her narrative, sending the worst perpetrators straight to hell. I will always admire her for wielding her pen as an impaler and corrector. Those deserving got their just rewards, too.

Her book was a very satisfying read because it boldly revised the script of the centuries-old master narrative/history where whites, especially men, always got every thing & everybody. Imagine the slaves being free, taking over the plantations, owning them &amp;amp;amp; running them well & thriving, having the power & skills to direct their own lives, to fulfill their own dreams.

All of that positive social and economic transformation was there metaphorically in the novel against the horrible backdrop of a young black boy's brutal, senseless killing by hateful people (like Emmett Till's murder in 1955 in Mississippi). I recall that my dissertation adviser didn't want Blues featured in my project. (Campbell was an unknown in our academic circle because she had never been on a syllabus that I knew of & her work had never been discussed in a seminar, to my knowledge). But it was my dss. & I prevailed in using Campbell's debut novel as the bottom slice of the bread in the sandwich I was making of black women's struggle to be writers, from slavery to the present & all my own grievances & triumphs as a black woman scholar/writer struggling to survive whole in higher academia & come out on the other side with terminal degree in hand. (bell hooks can tell you a tear-jerking story about this soul-numbing experience).

I loved Campbell's book "Singing in the Comeback Choir" (1998) for its celebration of female strength when faced with adversity from within--betrayal by her lover/husband. It was dime paperback lifted & dusted off, taken to the showers & dressed in Macy's finest. Best of all, it was black, intelligent, uplifting & relative to my own experience as a woman.

I love the way Campbell referred to the mother, aunt & grandmother who raised her in philadelphia as "the Bosoms." No stronger, more nurturing, comforting &loving support exists than maternal bosoms.

I never met Bebe Moore Campbell, I never heard her speak, but I felt a special writerly soul connection to her & I am saddened to be reading her obituary instead of a new insightful book by her. But isn't legacy wonderful? She is alive in the eternal fruits of her labor-- her writing-- & lives as long as we remember & honor her for her unique, artistic contribution to our lives and culture.

This lovely, soulful woman has left us a spiritual gift that keeps giving, stays beautiful & loves beyond the grave.

DC

November 28, 2006

Sacramento

We Will Miss You

2006-11-28T16:53:00.000-08:00

BeBe Campbell Moore

1950-2006

Paul Mooney Takes High Road

2006-11-27T18:51:00.000-08:00

Comedian Paul Mooney today announced he is giving up the use of the "N-word" forever.

Wait, there's more--Mooney is also giving up the use of the "B-word."

To what do we owe this reformation? Michael Richards public N-word melt down. Mooney says during his thirty years writing for Richard Pryor, Dave Chappelle, and others he sort to defang the word, but he now realizes it is a hateful word that has no place in public discourse.

I rest my case...

Poor Michael Richards

2006-11-21T13:51:00.000-08:00

He must have thought he was a rapper…

Or a Black comedian…

Or one of my children...

The word nigga as used in hip hop culture is different from the word nigger recently used by Michael Richards in his infamous tirade. This position is supported by both my kids, one twenty-two and the other twenty-nine. Oh, woe is me!

Nigga, niggaz, niggah—doesn’t matter how you trick it out, spell it any way you want to—it’s still the same word. It has the same grandpappy—the word nigger.

Nigger is a hateful word. Bloodied and hateful.
It probably was the last thing heard by those thousands of Black folk, men, women, and children, who were lynched in this country over the past centuries.

I’ve heard it argued that we can reclaim the word, desensitize it. Why bother? Give self hate a rest. Aren’t there more worthy things to reclaim. Why not reclaim a whole language? Yoruba, for starters, then move on to Bambara.

As for the furor Richards has unleashed, the only thing I can say is—Ninja please!

Terris at Six Years

2006-11-20T21:49:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Baby!
I was born December 5, 1948. I have decided it was a Sunday at three in the afternoon. My father said, “Oh, joy! A beautiful baby girl. She is just what I wanted.” My mother said, “Ump, my tummy hurts.”

I have many skills
I can bless holy water. I learned to do this a few years ago to protect myself from Dracula, the Mummy, and little men in my closet who just wouldn’t go away. This is how you do it: Get three jars. Wash out all of the mayonaise. Say three Hail Marys, three Apsotle's Creeds, and three Our Fathers. The water is now holy. Put them under your bed and sleep with a glow-in-the-dark crucifix under your pillow. If monsters are messing with you they will stop.

Coonskin Couture
I look really good in a coonskin cap. Coonskin and taffeta are my best look.

I am partially telepathic. I can pick up thoughts from people, but not complete sentences that are grammatically correct. I am working on getting better at this.

I can see the air, even when it is clean and not foggy. I bet my vision is 20/100000000000.

Dixie Peach Hair Grease and Me
My best friend is Daisy Turner. She is light with green eyes and long pretty hair. I wish I had long hair. When M’Dear washes my hair, combs it out wet, greases it with Dixie Peach, braids it, lets it dry over night, and presses it with a sizzling hot iron—I wish I was bald.

Nasty Dogs
I saw two dogs doing it, but I turned my head.

Sperm on Roids

2006-11-20T10:04:00.000-08:00

Is it just me...

Do some jellyfish look like sperm on steroids?

I Repeat...My Son is Not A Baby Boy

2006-11-17T12:43:00.000-08:00

Although I admit he does have a certain otter-eyed handsomeness...that might cloud the judgement of some mothers...

Jared is a junior at California State University, Sacramento.
He’s working his way through school.
He’s gentle and kind with his nine-year-old nephew who idolizes him.

Mack Daddies

2006-11-17T12:10:00.000-08:00

Daddy's Girl
I grew up a daddy’s girl, so it is only fitting that I should have three daddies.

Artie McMahan was the one who raised me, the one who struggled to keep me clothed and fed, bought me pretty dresses with tiers of ruffles, showed me off to his friends, and listened without yawning or allowing his eyes to glaze over, as I read out loud, for what must have seemed like hours, from my very first school book featuring those alien creatures, Dick and Jane, and their spotted familiar, Spot.

Look. Look. It is Dick and Jane.
Dick looks like a fool.
Jane’s socks are all run down in her shoes.

Pissed-off In-Laws
My mother's pissed-off in-laws floated the notion, which soon became community folklore in Tucker, Arkansas, that my actual father was one, Cal McPherson, a married man ten to fifteen years my mother’s senior with a house full of kids of his own. But, as my mother once quipped, “I was present at the time. I ought to know who impregnated me.” This is a paraphrase, of course. My mother cursed like the creative, free spirited person she was, who grew up in the rural, agrarian community and therefore was thoroughly familiar with animal husbandry.

Godfather Fantasy
Later, when she was in a rest home, mostly blind, no kidneys, and somewhat delusional on alternate days, she acknowledge McPherson was my—Godfather.

“You know,” she said, “His wife decided she didn’t want to be married no more and she just upped and left him and took the children with her.”

“Did she beat you up before she left?” I asked. But my mother didn’t answer. It was one of the days she got to be delusional, so she just batted her eyes behind her lop-sided glasses and looked confused.

Superstar Daddy
My third daddy was a superstar, which is only fitting because by the time I was twelve, I knew those two rubes who raised me couldn’t possibly have been my real parents. My real daddy was some rich, handsome, and famous person like Langston Hughes, and my real mother was glamorous, witty, and equally famous, say like—Zora Neal Hurston.

Terris the Great
Terris “The Great” McDuffie, Negro League Baseball pitching ace and all around lady’s man was handsome, charismatic, famous, and rich. And he was my daddy too! That’s what his son, Terris, told me four years ago when he stumbled across my website. By the way, Terris the son, or T2 as I sometimes call him when I’m not lavishing him with “sweeties,” “darlings,” “sugars” and “honeys,” is also handsome and charismatic although he is yet to become rich and famous, and his lady’s man days are long since over.

A Gathering of Terris'
T2 has a son named Terris and the chain remains unbroken. We have a sister out there somewhere. Her name is Terricyn or Terricine. She was born in 1940 in Los Angeles, California. I’m waiting to stumble across her website.

The Juju Monster

2006-09-16T00:26:00.000-07:00

Emmett Till and the Proliferation of Baby-Boys

2006-09-15T22:17:00.000-07:00

My daughter, in her role as the family soothsayer, cautioned me that early one morning in the not too distant future, some woman was going to kick in my door, point a trembling finger at me, and cry, “You! I hold you responsible for creating this baby-boy I married!”

I doubt that’ll ever happen, and if it did she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. I have my disclaimer already prepared for any woman crazy in love enough to marry my son. It reads:

I, the besotted one, do hereby acknowledge that Terris McMahan Grimes, soon to be know as the “Mother-in-law” and eventually to be know as “that woman,” did nurture, instruct, discipline, and raise said son, Jared Grimes, according to the highest standards of the African American community. I do hereby indemnify and hold harmless Terris McMahan Grimes should said son forget his raising, lose his ever loving mind, act a fool, or show his behind.

I’m no lawyer, but I think that’ll cover me.

I’ve heard it said that we black mothers raise our daughters, but spoil our sons. I try to be objective about how I parented my son, which was the same way I parented my daughter. I raised them both and spoiled them some. I don’t believe in parenting with pain, so I didn’t whup them, but I taught them right from wrong. My son’s a caring, loving, compassionate person. What more could you ask?

I admit I parented out of fear. Some people fear the things that go bump in the night, I feared the evils that all too often befall black boys. So I might have hugged him more than his father, bless his heart, thought appropriate. His dad thought a hug would make him weak, I thought the lack of hugs wouldn’t make him strong. I thought we should build a hedge around him, lavish as much love on him as we did his sister, because the world out there was waiting for him with a beat down.

And besides, I was raising a child, not a ghetto-bred pit bull.

And besides, I remember Emmett Till.

I was just seven-year-old when Emmett was murdered, but I remember it like I was forty the day it happened. My parents wept. It was all over Jet Magazine. Pictures, articles, I was drawn to them. I couldn’t turn away. They told me a frightful truth—it wasn’t safe to be a black boy and the joy of being a mother of one was tempered with fear.

More tomorrow unless you’d like me to change the subject…

Where Is That Child's Mother...?

2006-08-17T18:01:00.000-07:00

From time to time I like to highlight the joy of a well raised child and the agony of grown folk in need of a little parental guidance.

I used to love me some Nelly until the infamous video, which shall remain unnamed to keep you all from crashing Google Video and YouTube looking for it. As much as I loved his little ditties, I would cringe when he sang, “It’s Getting Hot in Herre” and that simple child would respond, “Ah…am…getting…so...hot. I…will…take…my…clothes…off.”

I don’t believe in beating children, whuppin’ them, or using pain in any form as a teaching aid. But my fingers would start doing that “where’s my switch” twitch every time I heard it. I wanted to yell, “Child, where is your mother?” I’m sure I muttered it a couple of times. Then I came up with my own chorus. It went like this:

Can I get a beat? Okay, alright... Uh! Uh! Uh!

I can’t let you go nowhere
'Less you acting a fool
Trying to be cool
I didn’t raise you like that
You know better

Put your clothes back on
Get your butt on home
I didn’t raise you like that
You know better

Ah, that feels better.

Chittlins and Chopsticks

2006-08-16T12:20:00.000-07:00

Those of you suffering from the heartbreak of disappearing flatware, take heart.

Instead of turning in a small circle in the middle of the kitchen muttering, "Where did all the forks go? What happened to the spoons? Why is a broken corkscrew and a crab cracker the only things in the cutlery drawer? Do as I did. Buy about a thousand of those disposalable chopsticks and insist that the little darlings use them at every meal. That's right, every meal, breakfast to dinner, soup to desert.

Oh, they'll fight you at first, but they have no choice. If they want to eat they'll use them. Don't change your menus either. Greens and cornbread? Chopsticks. Sweet potato pie. The same. Chittlin's, if you're so inclined? Chopsticks. Then sit back and watch the fun. You haven't lived until you see a kid trying to eat grits with chopsticks. Pretty soon they'll be so proficient you'll be taking them to those Chinese restaurants where the menus are entirely in Chinese just to show off their skills.

Another benefit--my 9-year-old, who is somewhat on the...ahem...chunky side, lost two pounds in one month on the Chopstick Diet.

The Fart That Binds

2006-08-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

All you mothers out there, listen up.

I've been at this mothering jig a long time. And let me tell you, there is nothing more effective a mother can do to bond with boys than fart.

First of all, I want you to know I leaned this by accident. It must have been ten years ago that I ventured into my son's room to ask him something simple like why weren't there any towel racks in the bathroom when I distinctly remembered seeing some hanging on the walls the night before.

I knocked on the door and went in. The little darling, who is now 21, greeted me with sullen impatience. He was battling the Foot Clan. My unwelcome intrusion had shifted the balance of power--Splinter was going down. Hard.

As I stepped into his room, I passed a wee bit of gas. Yes, I farted in my baby boy's room. I, of course, excused myself. My son protested that it was okay, I didn't need to apologize. The sulleness disappeared. He seemed soften. He smiled at me. We became friends and I owe it all to a little bit of wind.