But my point...
When you are raised by black transplants... [I prefer to use the word, "black." Why? Because as a little person I thought if I used only the word 'black,' in reference to myself people would see how ridiculous it is. After all, I'm pretty sure I passed kindergarden for a reason... One of them was my ability to distinguish colors. Upon learning that skill I realized I was... In fact... Brown! And as I grew older I just found 'black' less... Other than 'African-American.' I didn't immigrate here... So why would I need an extra quantifier on American? Most days even that label feels to heavy in the face of its government's decisions...]
But once again... I've gotten lost in a tangent in what is, or should be, a fairly serious post.
When you are raised the way I was, there are certain phrases that stick with you. Like a certain pastor's favorite phrase... Or certain unspoken Church specific rules.... But mainly, it will be the little things that all of the very old women that crowded you as a child never stopped repeating... And of course was then echoed from everyone with the will to hear.
For tonight's purpose, I'll tell you the one being focused on: Don't Claim It
Of course, you'd never hear it that straight forward from one of them... No no, for them you need any number of quantifiers... like: [fuck it never mind, I was going to type them the way they end up sounding but it just looks stupid] Child, girl, son, etc...
And as cliche as it is... Even though it's a holdover from a place full of hypocrisy... It's something that's stayed with me.
When I'm worried? Don't claim it. When I'm ill? Don't claim it. When I might be ill?
Yeah. You get the idea.
However, as I sit hear with a pounding headache on the cusp of giving in and acknowledging that there might be a problem... I can't help but hear an old women muttering, not to claim it.
But, how much of that is wisdom passed down through ages... And how much of it is sticking your ass in the air and hoping if you bury your head low enough it will go away?
I don't know, and I've got years of hiding from possible endgame probabilities under my belt.
To some degree I still am. With one breath I resolve to get answers, with the next I hope it will all go away. With the third I pretend the last two thoughts never happened and change the song...
I'm not really sure where to end this. There is no answer to my question of the day. If there were, there'd be no conflicted pain filled emotions to spur this post.
And by pain filled, I mean literal head pain. I'm not so angsty as to just throw around melodrama the way the Godmother threw around money...
Lift every voice and sing..