Disclaimer: If this offends you, you’re welcome. I hope I’ve humbled you today.

It puzzles me how a person gathers the stones that are thrown at them everyday only to launch them in your direction. It amazes me how one can pick at every intricate detail that surrounds someone else’s life without considering the thought of taking a gander at theirs. Have we all forgotten or overlooked the obvious and blatant fact that we are all human and therefore, we are far from perfect? I recently checked myself for clarity and I’m definitely human. Nevertheless, I won’t apologize for that.

It takes a sufficient amount of energy to constantly point out the faults and imperfections of others while trying to ignore your own. Let’s be honest here: from saving face to unnecessary justifications due to guilt, the chores are quite tiring. Personally, I cannot thrive off of negativity and/or tearing down one’s house to build my home. What type of foundation is expected to withhold all of that guilt in the end? Surely, one can’t really think that a house built on such said foundation, won’t come tumbling down. Maybe I’m the only individual who can’t stomach such vile activity. Or maybe it fills the nothingness of some. For me, it definitely doesn’t satisfy any type of void that may exist. My soul thirsts for positive fulfillment. It always has.

Although done everyday, none of us, as humans, are in any type of position to judge the next, especially when we have created the same acts publicly and/or privately. Sin is sin, regardless of the degree. With that being said, you are definitely no better than the person you are trying to judge or have judged. I’m definitely guilty of doing the aforementioned; however, I’ve learned the difference in educated judgments and opinions. I wish more people would do the same.

Check my Statistics ▼

I’ve been taunted because I’ve had two children at a very young age by two different men. These particular individuals all have had children out of wedlock by different men. What’s puzzling is that I’m trying to figure out the difference? I’m on a quest to discover the primary discrepancy amongst myself and those individuals. I just can’t see it and I’m starting to grow weary of this task. What’s so amazing to me is their rationale and justifications behind their sin. It was their choice to bring a child into the world out of wedlock by different men. But I.. oh I was just careless and only did it to keep a “man” around. (The comment was autobiographical, needless to say) Nevertheless, sin is sin. Align us all side by side and ask us if we’re married and we’ll all have no other choice but to agree to the fact that we all have bastard children. (respectfully termed.)

My Statistics

I got pregnant with my daughter in high school. I gave birth to her AFTER I graduated in the top 25% with a 3.5 GPA. I was 26/104.

I began college the semester after I gave birth to my daughter. I didn’t move far away, or to another city and leave her in the care of my mother or relatives. I saved money for my own apartment, in which I moved into before my daughter turned 1 years old.

I have entered my fourth year of college and now I have two kids whom I support. My daughter is now of school age and I make sure she is cared for academically as that has already been proven to her teachers. I guess that stemmed from her also “graduating” when I graduated high school. After all, she was in my womb. [Paraphrased version. The original quote can be found by the individual who got pregnant twice while in college. It's probably safe to assume that she must have smart kids as well.]

I juggle parenthood, school, and work with little complaint. I’ve accepted that I basically have to do this alone there is not a day that I blame my children for my busy life and sometimes stressful life. Furthermore, I make sure to spend quality time with them and I LOVE IT!

For more information, please visit Iyanna, Imari, and I – Always updating!

I was a 17-year-old, pregnant high school graduate. I am a 23-year-old African American mother of two beautiful, gifted children who WILL graduate college to better our lives, no matter how long it takes.

In essence, we are all statistics in some shape or form. You can belong to the negative aggregation, or the positive. It’s your choice. So to all you individuals who quote lyrics that you only have “kids with one baby daddy” (what is a baby daddy exactly?), be careful because that relationship can end and you’ll then have three kids and two different fathers . What’s even worse, you could be doing it alone–all over again.

Regardless of who it is said to, the ignorant commentary is quite annoying. Be cautious in regards to what you say about others. Be careful of the direction the casting of your stones take as they may make their way back to you! Maps and compasses can be purchased via Amazon.com.

No subliminals. No shade.

With any working parent, time is crucial. Currently, my work schedule and the times for the classes that I need are a major conflict. The schedule that I want has nothing to do with the schedule that I need in order to keep my incentive, medical benefits, etc. My job requires that I work 40 hours a week. Right now, I don’t see how that is possible without killing myself on particular days.

I’ve already accepted the fact that I won’t graduate when I want to graduate; nevertheless, graduating is not an option for me, rather it is a promise. It is an obligation to myself, my parents, my own family. It is a goal that I want to accomplish.

At this point, I’m not sure when I’m graduating. I constructed a plan to take a certain amount of classes each semester but it seems as though something always gets in the way. Partially, this is my own fault. It’s my fault because I should have transferred all of my credits from other institutions I attended summers ago that are qualified pre-requisites for some of the classes I am prohibited from enrolling in. Also, I know that my school’s online courses are full of bullshit. Online courses at Southern University are oxymorons. The classes require that you attend several sessions AND require that you “attend” (log on) class at a certain time. Where’s the convenience in that? Oh, and the syllabus, a major contradiction.

So, I have been reduced to taking 12 hours. ..12 measely hours. Although these 12 hours are the minimum I need for my financial aid, I was hoping to take an extra class. In essence, I only need 3 of the 4 classes that I’m taking. *sigh*

Hopefully, I can propose a schedule change to my supervisor that will fly. But if not, I’ll have to anticipate my graduation date further away. The more and more I rationalize, the more I see the fact that as long as I graduate, that’s all that matters. Yea.. that’s all that matters.

I don’t plan on doing the “Big Chop” to remove my relaxed ends because my ends are pretty much even and when it’s straightened, it looks great. My stylist in my hometown only charges $30 for a wash and flat iron and she does an amazing job. In fact, she actually persuaded me to put a halt to the perms. I think she didn’t feel like doing one that day. I thank her for her lethargy.

Sometimes I can do without the waves and just want straight hair; then, there are times where I adore them. I especially love the fact that I could walk in the rain without worrying about my hair curling and waving up whenever it rains or whenever there’s humidity. I also love the fact that I finally get to see my true texture. My mom still resents the fact that she relaxed my hair so early, even though after the relaxer, my hair was a few inches shy of my waistline when I was a kid. She loves my hair and reminds me everyday to refrain from relaxing it again.

For the most part, this natural hair journey has been an incredible experience; however, there have been moments that weren’t so satisfactory. Besides the time spent detangling and managing to pull all my hair back into a bun, I think the thing I hate most about this journey is the fact that I am constantly asked what I’m mixed with. I’m not sure if they think I’m part kangaroo and donkey or if I’m a cross between a jaguar and a ferrett. The last time I checked, I’m mixed with 23 chromosomes from my father and 23 from my mother. So with that being said, isn’t EVERYONE mixed?

We all consist of different races and ethnicities. While features of those races and ethnicities may be a bit more dominant with some individuals, it runs deep through us all. I have a great-great grandmother who was white, caucasian, European or whatever you’d prefer to call it, and I have a great-grandfather who was a full-blooded Irish Indian. But, do you really think I’m going to explain all of that to someone who’s going to ask what I’m mixed with? Is it really necessary to get as technical as to providing the percentages of the type of blood that flows through my veins? The last time I checked, and I could be wrong, but when we bleed, our blood is the same color. Both of my parents are black, therefore I am an African American. When I fill out a form or complete a survey, I’m not checking Other or Indian/Native American — African American/Black will suffice.

Don’t get me wrong–I’m not slandering anyone who’d rather go into detail about their bloodlines. I have no problem listening or involving myself in a conversation where information has been volunteered or such is the topic; however, I refuse to answer a question asked by a complete stranger. I think it is VERY rude and condescending. I am a beautiful woman, a beautiful black woman. And believe it or not, there are a lot of other black people with my skin tone with naturally goldish-brown hair. And my hair color–that’s another post for another day because apparently everyone thinks I’m a swimmer to have hair this color. You should see their faces when I tell them I’d sink to the bottom if anyone were to throw me in water.

Black women, Asian women, Caucasian women, Indian women, etc. — embrace your natural beauty. Embrace it. Live it. Love it!

Facebook should strongly consider reverting back to it’s original format where only college students were allowed to join. While there are grown ass men and women that also type and speak liiyke DiSz cUz dey Tink it so fawkiin qKool nnd& Unniiqquuee, I honestly believe a little of this tom foolery will cease and they’ll take this shit BACK to myspace along with the tooted up booty shots, the profile pictures with guns, drugs, and money, and last but not least, the profile pictures with 30 different chicks and negroes throwing up gang signs like they have RA or some other form of arthritis.

*Inspiration for this blog – Black Girls Are Easy.

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