Thank-FULL-ness Day

For years I have struggled with finding a core significance to the day we call Thanksgiving. The Pilgrim's and the Mayflower weren't anything culturally I could relate to. Now the Native Americans were something a little bit more familiar being that I have some blackfoot blook running through my vains, but I also wondered if they regretted that first Thanksgiving feast. In my own world, for my whole entire life it was a day my parents filled us up with family, faith, and food. Giving me an emotional and spiritual connection with this American holiday. All I ever had to do was just show up!!


It wasn't until this Thanksgiving that I got to experience the possibilities of this day. You see for the first time in my whole life my momma wasn't here for Thanksgiving. She made her own personal pilgrimage to Kalamazoo to reconnect with her childhood, memories, and family. So I was forced to make a decision-pout or host.

I decided to host.

Eric and I were both nervous and excited. I mean with the reputation of fabulous cooks in our families you couldn't just hope to make something good-you HAD to make something good.

Spread out in the kitchen was a beautiful and delicious smoked turkey and prime rib. My honey put his "foot" in that turkey. Mom Brown brought the tradition dressing, sweet potatoes pies, homemade cranberry sauce. And the rest of us just filled in with our favorites and family members personal request. The food was amazing and we stuffed our selves full. I really should have went to the altar for prayer today. Seriously, every time I walked past the table I grabbed a piece of turkey..or pie...or cake..

But more important than the food was the abundance of love in our home. Every level of our little tri-level was filled with activity and joy. Hearing stories of my husbands' childhood,the giggles from children echoing down the stairs, shaking and crying uncontrollably at the clowning and joking rolling around the table. It was wonderful.

The highlights of the evening were 80 something year old Mrs. Rose playing cards with us. Watching her deciding to join in on life instead of just being a spectator silenced the fear of aging that had been growing in my mind. Witnessing the expressions of love and worship my daughter Aliyah offered up to our God in a praise dance. Cooking, cleaning, and creating this memory with my husband-thankful once again for the oneness that we share.

However what I am most thankful for is a deeper appreciation for what I got, who I am, and why I'm here. I got an amazing life, family, friends, and faith. I am a child of the King of Kings, I am royalty. And I am here to continue to pass down the legacy of love and laughter He has so lavishly poured down on me.

Happy thank-full Thanksgiving!!

Thank you Lord for all you've done for me.
It could of been me, outdoors ,with no food and no clothes
All left alone without a friend our just another number with a tragic end.

But you didn't see fit to let any of these things be.
And each day every hour you keep on keep on blessing me.
And I gotta say thank you Lord for all you've done for me! (Mary Mary-Thank You Lord)

Today Hope Won

November 4, 2008 A day of history that will forever be tucked in the depths of my soul, etched in the corners of my mind, and cherished in the chamber of my heart.My last dance with politics dates back to my Sophomre and Junior years of college on the campus of Lewis & Clark College. My first was as also an election were I won President of Beaumont Middle School. Yeah Obama you better be glad you weren't running against me. (smile) 


The writings, literature and works of African-American poets, writers, activist, and artist moved me in a way that transformed me.  I was a sociology/anthropology major and an african-american studies minor (even though Lewis & Clark denied me my minor by refusing to accept my credits from Portland State University after previously promising me that they would accept these "transferable credits"...yeah I'm still a little sore about that but I've gotten over it..anyway.)and had the priviledge and opportunity to dive deep in the rich heritage, history, and politics of my people - the African-Americans.


After hours of reading, files of essays, and garbage baskets of tear stained tissue it was time to do something.  I had realized the awesome sacrifice and commitment my forefathers and foremothers had given and it inspired me to somehow in my own corner of the world try ti make a difference in this country like they had. So I ran for office. Presidency of the Black Student Union. And I won.  And we organized all 22 African-Americans students out of 2000 white students.  Among staff and students we had gained respect, our voices were not only heard but embraced.  Other non-blacks joined our union. Our greatest goal was to employ an African-American professor on campus. Just one...that wouldn't be too much. Start small not too large.Because we knew our second greatest goal of attraction more African-American students to LC would only happen if we had a face, a voice, a reason to want to come.

Respectable and influentail professors and staff helped by advocating and activating our proposal and requests as far as they could take it.  All the way to "The Manor" aka LC's white house.  The official house or cabinet of people that had the money, ran the school, and made all the decisions.  We had the majority support of students and faculty and we had hope because we had been schooled in the thought of equality and acceptance that or view and voice mattered. After months of red tape, several meetings, and polite handshakes our request was denied because based on the President of the College point view the real majority (which happen to be an even small minority than our 22 BSU students)concluded that it was not necessary.  An african-american influence was not necessary....humm..not necessary.


For me this translated that my voice, my view, my presence, my contribution was only necessary when printing brochures, articles, and catalogs to "promote" diversity however my presence was not legitimate enough to govern change, dialogue, or influence.  And on the very campus where my love for my country, my people, and my contribution had budded, it also died.


But tonight as I soak up the view of the first African-American president. I feel something I have not felt in a very long time.  Don't get me wrong I am no longer a 13 or 21 year old lovesick girl romanced by the ignorance of complete peace or justice again.  President Obama is human just like I am he is broken just like all of us....but he has hope.  Not hope in himself, or the color of his skin, but in you and me again. The hope and belief that EVERYBODY MATTERS. And today HOPE WON.I chose not to wear make-up today because I just wanted to soak up the beauty of this day.  I did not have to curl my hair, line my eyes, or fill my lips because today just being me was enough.  The gray clouds and cool raindrops did not cloud the sunshine that is glowing in my spirit.All my life as much as I have tried to deny it growing up in Portland, Oregon I have tried to prove my worth, my equality, my intelligence.  We have had to always been a people who glorified our past we were told at the breast of our mothers, "Never forget where you come from." 


But today I just got to be present in today, in my history, in our history.For hundreds of years we have been made to feel tolerated, accepted, but last night America embraced and African-American man as their president.  There were no sirens, no dogs, no police, no recount.  Just a quiet lull a gentle breeze that whispered, "Change has come."I do not agree with all of Obama's politics or point of view. I do not idolize or worship him because of his skin. I am still unclear about his position of abortion. That was my heaviest burden "the truth", "the voice", and "the politics" of all the candidates were polarized and confusing.

I am no less of a Christian or more of an African-American because I voted for President Obama. I am still and will always be most importantly a child of God.
I admire him because of his poise and grace.  Did I chose Obama because he was Black..."No".  I chose Obama because he gave me back my hope. He showed me that it was OK to hope in the best possibility of broken people.  Instead of focusing on what divides us as a people he focused on what unites us.  Dr. Martin Luther King had a dream that one day his children would not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. 

Today as descendants of Africa, survivors of Jim Crow, and children of the Civil Right Movement my family, my people, and my country witnessed the dream. Ahhh what a beautiful sight.

PS Let us not put our trust in man, but in God alone. Continue to pray for our country and our new president, and you know what it really is ok to hope a little more again.

PSS Sorry about the typ-os. It's way past my bedtime!!