Why Aren't People Talking About This?

WHY Aren't People Talking About This?

This video that came out by the queen on Dec 12 is gold. Pure gold. In this short piece Beyonce talks about her values as a feminist, a humanist, some of the struggles she has been through and overall gives pointers on some of the important things in life. She even starts the piece speaking on the pressures of being famous. The video is awesome if you need a little inspiration! Watch below!  

Countdown to Birthday: Four Women Who Truly Inspired Me This Year

Countdown to Birthday: Four Women Who Truly Inspired Me This Year

It's that time a year again! The time where I mark another year alive! As I approach my birthday and reflect on the year that has passed I can't help but consider how much I've grown as a women.

From the moment I realized I actually was one:

To the moment I realized and began to advocate how important it is to represent and define who I am as one: 

Forth and forth this year has been one of struggle, triumph, and growth and I wanted to celebrate (and countdown) the days until my birthday by recognizing (and sharing some delightful mock images) of the women who have inspired me beyond words during this past year. Enjoy! 

Monday. 3 days until Birthday.
Woman: Queen Bee

Gosh! Where do I even start? I remember the first time I heard flawless I was so empowered by the lyrics that I posted them on my wall. Queen Bee is Queen for a reason. Not only does she encourage women to embrace my their sexuality  but she's been the prime example in learning to *snap fingers* own it too! She is the definition of confident, fierce, and unapologetic and I adore her for it! 

Tuesday. 2 days until Birthday.
Woman: Miley Cyrus 

I know what you're thinking . Miley? Aleichia.. really?
And my answer is HELL YES! THIS LIST IS ABOUT BEING ME, not about pleasing you and that's exactly what I love about Miley! Her changes in the recent years shows me that she has grown to just want to be herself (even if that means everyone is talking badly about you)! I admire that so much. I admire any desire to allow yourself the space to grow and experiment and just live. It's such a powerful thing to strive for in a culture where everyone is trying to make everyone else happy. I want to learn to be myself in a society that is probably going to judge me anyway. So like Miley, I'm just gonna say LATER HATERS!

Wednesday. 1 day until Birthday.
Woman (or young lady) : Malala Yousafzai

Before taking this image I did some research on whether it was respectful to wear a hijab or head covering (in my case to represent a young women who has inspired me) I found a very intriguing read which you can read here --->  http://www.hautehijab.com/blogs/hijab-fashion/12421209-ask-haute-hijab-im-not-muslim-can-i-wear-hijab

Taking a  jump on the more serious side of things, Malala is my third lady. It was a bit difficult nailing this picture but I didn the best I could. Her story not only teaches me that one can accomplish great things at any age, but it also inspires me to stand for what I believe in despite anything. I feel we are given so many opportunities to speak up in support of others in our lives, be that something as nerve wrecking as shutting someone down for laughing at a bigger person at the gym or telling a friend that they should really just consider another person's feelings and when they spread gossip. Even just watching Malala during interviews I am moved my her humility and willingness to support a cause. This past year I have marveled (and still do) about how amazing she is!

Thursday. 0 days until Birthday.

Woman: Me

That's right folks! The last lady who has inspired me in the past year.. is me! I have had some serious downfalls and struggles this past year and I feel like we often don't give ourselves the credit when we overcome them. So here's to me; To the women I am, to the women I want to be, and to women I will become. Thank's for tuning in!

(That concludes my list!) 

A List of Shit to Get Me for My 21st Birthday

A List of Shit to Get Me for My 21st Birthday (which is on Thursday) 

•A Wine Bottle from Speakwines © 

•Rosetta Stone French Learning Pack 

•LHCalligraphy Starter Kit from Etsy 

•SEPHORA COLLECTION Chroma Color Eye Palette 

-The Essential Feminist Reader (Modern Library Classics) by Estelle Freedman 

-Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay  

-The Defining Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter and How to Make the Most of Them Now by Meg Jay

-Humanity: An Introduction to Culture Anthropology by James People's and Garrick Bailey 

•Flowers, Confetti, and Cupcakes (without order or limit) 

•Gift Card to Micheal's/Hobby Lobby (or any other art supplies store) 

•Turquoise Headphones (not earphones) 

:) 

My Master's Son

A rough draft to what I have been working on. So mind the incorrect vocabulary, historical inconsistencies, and grammatical errors please.

Introduction

I ran through the woods in the night. My feet hitting and crushing the laves with every step. I wasn't being careful. I wasn't being quiet. I had no fear of master or any other white person finding me and hanging me. I had no fear of death. I couldn't feel the tears on my face but I knew I was crying. I couldn't here the sound of my breath but I knew I was panting. I also knew an inaudible sound was escaping my mouth. I didn't care though. There was no escaping the pain I was experiencing. There was no escaping the dark cloud that attached itself to me after the series of events that just unfolded, permanently making me cringe. There was no escaping what I knew.

Chapter 1

I remember the first time I was brought to master's. I was just a young-in, couldn't have been older than ten but I remember riding up to the pearly white house sitting in the trunk of master's wagon. By some odd fate my momma and I had been allowed to stay together. As a child I used to think it was because master was a good man and couldn't bear to separate a mother and her offspring, but as I grew older I came to understand that the only thing my master couldn't bear that day was the sound of my mother's crying; screeching really. She screamed and yelled and begged to not be separated and she caught the usually firm man on a weak day.

Arriving at the house mama was sent to help in the kitchen  out back, and though young, master had chosen me to grow in the house and train to be a house slave. Early on in my life I wasn't given many responsibilities I followed Aunt Ruth around during lunch and breakfast but I was free to play most of the day.

Master has a son about my age. A thin active boy with hair the color of dirt and eyes that resembled  the creek master owned; ranging from green to yellow depending on the day. When we were little I had a theory that his eyes changed color when his mood changed. He told me  was I was stupid and because I was black his eyes changed color depending which side of him I was standing by.

I met Alex three days after I was first bought. I was playing with a stick alone by a tree stump a little far off from the house. That day Aunt Ruth has taught me how to set the table and properly address anyone who lived and came into master's home. After teaching me all this she sent me off to "get out of the way" while she prepared lunch. Aunt Ruth, like mama,hadn't been born a slave. She was taken from a world mam described as flowing with crystal rivers with a beaming sun that never stopped shining. I used to imagine myself living in this world. I would imagine myself climbing trees and eating from it's fruits. I would have the prettiest grey dog with sky blue eyes and together we would explored the jungle and wrestle animals.

My mind was probably in this place the day I met Alex. I don't know how long he stood there watching me before he spoke. "What are you doing?" I snapped out of my world and stood up as fast as I could. "Good afternoon, sir. I was only playing with dirt."
"How old are you?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
"Well I'm nine and you look like you're my age so I'd say you're nine too."
"Yes sir."
He began to walk towards the woods and I followed.
"Why do you keep calling me that? Can you stop?"
"Okay, sir."
"Hey!"
I giggled. "Oh yeah, sorry."
"What's your name?"
"Rebecca"
"I'm Alex. Do you want to ride my wraft with me in the creek?"
"Okay."

We spent the entire evening riding aimlessly down the creek and then rowing back p. It was far into the night when we arrived back at the house. Master's wife, Lady Elizabeth Grant was sitting in the parlor room fanning herself.
"Boy, where have you been?"
" I as at the creek with Rebecca."
"You shouldn't be fooling with no slave!" She said as she looked at me with disgust,
"Mama, she's the only kid on this entire plantation whose my age. The closest kid to us is 16 and the other is 6 months!"
"What about Lil Billy. He don't live too far off."
"That boy stupid!" Alex said as he started up the stairs.  I stayed in my place in front of the lady. She looked at me questionably. "Well... I guess it's alright!" She yelled so that he could hear. "But don't you go getting in the way of her work!" Then she looked at me "And don't you go thinking you any special because you get to play with the master's son". Alex appeared again at the top of the stairs. "You coming?" He screamed to me.
"Go on then" she said to me dismissively.
I ran up the stairs, I had not seen the upstairs rooms yet. Most slaves hadn't. "And walk!"
Lady Elizabeth screamed. "Don't ya'll be coming home so late either!"

Once in Alex's room I marveled at all the interesting things he had. I started playing with a wooden toy animal on the ground. "Will you leave that elephant alone and get up on this bed!" I put the toy down and climbed the tall soft bed. It had a sort of thick cloth ceiling connected to it, that was being held up by wooden pillars. The bed all together was deep blue and gold. "Am I allowed to be up here?" I asked Alex. "What does it matter? Mama can't do anything and Daddy's always away so he can make money. Plus, anytime he's here he just slaps Ma around." I kept quiet and watched Alex fiddle with a string.  "Don't make no sense. I wouldn't slap anyone. I would just tell them what to do and they would obey."
"Yeah, you are pretty bossy."
"Hey!" He pushed me playfully.
"You'd better watch your manners. I'll be your master one day."
"How does your daddy make money by leaving the house?"
"He buys and sells slaves."
"Do you think he'd sell me?"
"No. I wouldn't let him." Alex said without looking up from his string game.

That night I dreamt I was dancing in a field in my mother's world with white elephants.

Chapter 2

Most days I would work with Aunt Ruth until supper then spend the evenings wit Alex floating in the creek. A few days before Alex's 10th birthday Alex showed up in the kitchen with a piece of paper in his hand.  "Young sir, what are you doing here?" scolded Aunt Ruth. "Leave me alone!" remarked Alex,approaching me. "Mama needs someone to get some things in town. Wanna come?"
"Why didn't she just send a slave?"
"Ya'll can't read!"
"Well, I'm working."
Alex sighed and walked up to Aunt Ruth. "Excuse me, Ms. Ruth. I need Rebecca's assistance to get some errands done for mama." Aunt Ruth looked from Alex to me and back. "Oh Alright! I quickly let go of the bread dough I was kneading and rinsed my hands in the bucket of water by the kitchen door. "Let's run before mama sees us". Alex and I ran through the path in the woods instead of taking the main entrance path in front of the house. Once we arrived to the dirt road that led to town we slowed our pace.  Alex looked at the paper. "We have three places we need to go to."

We started off at Alex's aunt's home. Ms.Celia Walker had the closest house to town. She was a plump women, older than Alex's mom but you would never know because she was always dressed in festive pink. It made her look young. Like he clothes, Ms. Celia was a loud women. You could always find her sitting on her front porch gossiping and laughing with another lady friend or flirting with a bachelor. She wasn't particularity mean but I don't think she cared much for slaves. I'd imagine if I were born white her and I would get along very well.

We walked up to the porch and as expected Ms. Walker was sitting at her table chatting away with another lady friend about a new man visiting town. When she noticed Alex she sent for her slave to get a package, insulted Alex's "filthy" appearance, and delivered the shocking news about the mysterious visitor's past as an adulterer, without so much taking a breath. Alex was given a bag of wax candles by a slave and as we began our walk down the stairs and off the porch Ms. Walker told Alex to let his mom know she needed to pay her a visit.

After there we headed to Williams Travis's, the town baker, to pick up a special sort of lour that was supposed to have come from a country that William said would take years to get to on feet.

Finally we ended at a small shop filled with random things. Alex said we needed to pick up some thread. When we walked in we saw a women standing by the cashier , conversing with the teller. "That's Billy's mom" Alex said. "Billy is the stupidest boy to have ever lived on earth." Alex walked up to the register. "Hello, Mrs. White."
"Oh hello, Alexander, and how are you on this fine day?"
"Doing great mam! And you look beautiful as ever."
"Awhhh" she said to the clerk. "Such a fine and well mannered young man!"
"May I help you?" The teller asked us.
"Yes." Alex said. "I'm looking for blue thread."
"All the thread is right in that back corner." The man said pointing to the far right.

We walked down the isle and Alex picked out a light blue thread. When we turned around to go pay Billy White was standing right in out way, hands on his hips, and starring at Alex with narrow eyes. Billy was a fat boy with dark brown eyes and red freckles that matched his hair.
"You've got to be the ugliest cow I've ever seen." he said to Alex. Alex brushed into him moving down the isle towards the register. Billy followed. Alex put the cash and thread on the counter with Billy still behind us. The adults were in deep conversation, but the old man began to count the cash.

"I bet you never wash your hair." Billy continued. "I bet you sleep with ant bugs on your body." Alex ignored billy and patiently waited for the teller to finish with the money.
"You ugly boy." Continued Billy. "You and your ugly nigger."
A th Alex turned around and whispered in a firm voice, firm but quiet enough for only Billy and I to hear.
"How about you shut your ass."
I  firmly repeated after Alex.
"Yeah Billy shut your ass. "
Billy's mouth widened with shock at what I had just said.
"Mom!She just told me-"
"Billy!" Mrs. White interrupted "You rude little boy, don't you see I'm talking.Leave Alex and his slave alone." Billy's mouth widened further. The teller handed Alex the cash and Alex and I ran out the store and laughed the whole way home. We laughed at the fact that Billy Gray White had just been told to shut his ass by a slave.

Adam

My bearded prince. 

The most pleasant surprise. 

An unplanned affair (as if loving ever is). 

Naturally I would have and I do fear the distance between me and my lover. But these past two days, this past day, he has been all that has been on my mind. His smile, the awkward (and really douchy at times) jokes he makes, his honesty, his warmth. 

I love that man. And it's so odd it's a love I can't say I've ever experienced before. 

With Carlos, it was certain, strong,and had a yearning. 

Wit Henry it was painful yet purposeful. 

But with Adam, there's a distinction. Adam is real. 

With Adam it's simple, playful, intentional, and growing. 

Never in my life has anyone inspired me to be something (I'm tearing up), I'm not. But with, for, and because of Adam I am yearning to be a better person. One for him. 

I love him. 

I love his voice. I love his feet (which is SERIOUSLY saying something). I love his eyes. 

I love the way he look annoyed when he's driving lol. Or the way he rubs his eyes to hide what he feel (though I kinda wish he didn't. I wish he's allow himself to be vulnerable with me). I wonder so much about him. I wonder about his thoughts, his past, his hopes. He's so simple but he only leaves me wanting to know more and more. I want to be his. I want to know him and love him more and more. He's my Adam. And I am forever grateful to have met him. I could write a novel on it. I've never met someone so perfect. So unexpected. I love him. And I want to love him and make him proud forever. I can't explain it. He's so on my mind. I expect to be writing alot more about him. Almost only about him.

10.14.2014 Autumn Tendencies

That moment between autumn and winter is my favorite season. Rainy weather is my favorite kind of weather. And I guess that seems a little backwards since I am always cold, but they are my two favorite nonetheless.

It was in winter when I first feel in love.
In winter, when I first began to understand myself.
And in winter when I realized I wanted to change the world.

Winter has also been the season where I've battled the most violent of melancholic thoughts.

It may be the lack of sun or being able to go out. It may be a loss of Vitamin D (as one girl put it).  It may just be a coincidence that I suffer with myself so heavily during my favorite time of year. I haven't quite figured it out yet.

Now we're going into a time where autumn and winter meet and shake hands. With every first kiss I receive from the wind each time I walk outside, my heart is warmed; because I am reminded of the season and the promise of understanding it brings.

Yet, with every day that passes, I have to fight harder and harder to keep myself in check. And to keep myself from drowning in a despair I can hardly understand,.

This year it's people.
Groups of them.
Ever since my experience with the Christian group, I can't stand being in groups of people because I am constantly feeling judged. Or like their dislike of me/ disinterest in my existence is too evident. My depression has taken the form of insecurity. And I have to constantly remind myself that my thoughts stem from a belief inside of me, that I am not worth enough. That this belief may not be true and the thoughts that stem as a result of this belief may also not be true. It's a struggle. It really is. Everyday I search for some sort of formula to make it easier on myself. I want life to have a formula, like a rule book that will always be true and you will always find peace if you just follow these simple rules.

It doesn't work like that though. Life is messy. It can't be sorted and put into categories. There's no one formula to happiness or else we would all be bundles of joy.

I guess what we can do, what I can do, is learn to take it day by day. Accept what I can't change, love myself, and be grateful for what is.

I want to change the world. And maybe my boyfriend was right. Maybe the best way to do that is just to be me.

Social Media is a bitch Series: Follow Nation

FOLLOW NATION

So I used to be at the forefront of this movement I call follow nation. 

The rules are simple. 

If someone you know but aren't super close to, or you are relatively close to, but doesn't seem cool enough and/or doesn't have many likes on their posts, follows you on instagram... don't follow them back. 

If someone you sorta/kinda know/ have seen around and seems like they would like to be your friend because you're oh so cool (just don't let anyone know you're aware of that), follows you on instagram, don't follow them back 

Basically if someone you have had any form of interaction *cough* significant interaction with (at least to them) follows you on instagram and they have 

a. less followers than people they are following 

b. less than 11 likes or more on their pictures 

c. less than 100 posts

d. more than 1000 posts

e. interesting pictures but not really

or f. all of the above... DO NOT feel inclined to follow back. 

Relative Cool  points: You gain points if you don't follow

- someone you just met  and who's evidently trying to get connected
-someone you have or have had a relationship with and you secretly don't like them **double points if you were following them and unfollowed them and it was never addressed that you didn't like them
-people you don't know but are obviously real people
-a co-worker
-someone you don't particularly know but see sometimes locally
- someone you have hung out with but "you just don't  give a shit man, you don't want to see their posts anymore" ...

Okay, are ya'll getting my point here?

This shit is ridiculous. Seriously.

I've been going through this recent condition called "growing up" and it's really strange but I've begun to desire truly nourishing and enriching relationships. Realizing how seemingly retarded it was to weigh the number of those who were following me on instagram and those who I was following I had to ask myself how much these people really meant to me. Are their lives important? I mean, I'm sure you're thinking.. "aleichia, it's not that serious. It's just social media." Well if that's the case why does it hurt you so much to not follow back? Literally I had friends, or people who I would consider friends, liking all my shit and I didn't have the decency to keep them on my feed because sure you're important... but just not THAT important.

It's really immature when you think about it. Also, it confirms the theory that western civilizationers (I made that word up) are extremely insecure due to our bizarre societal standards and we increasingly want to feel like the "cool guy". If we treated our social media like everyday interaction I just might walk right past, ignoring the existence of, half the people I know ! Maybe I'm getting old. Or maybe this is just a phase and I will soon come to my senses and realize that likes and follows ARE more important than people's lives! Who knows.

All I know is that right now I don't want a fucking fan base. I want friends and real relationships that I can nourish. So there.

Tune in next time when I discuss how I now think that posting pictures of food, creating a false internet presence, and documenting things I was present at but didn't really experience is STUPID AS HELL! Don't miss it folks!