Friday, March 24, 2017

Missing Black Girls

I'm not being at all noninclusive by highlighting this issue. This is all too REAL. Unfortunately, missing children of color don't get much press. You don't realize how high the numbers are because they aren't publicized, and why you probably don't recognize the angelic face of Relisha Rudd who's been missing since 2014, along with 1,000's of other children of color.

"This is not an accident. Thousands and thousands of young black girls and women are missing all over the country, but most people can't name a single one of them. I asked a few people this morning, just as a test, if they could. They couldn't. They didn't even know that anybody was missing."
Shaun King - New York Daily News

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/king-no-accident-hear-missing-black-girls-article-1.3005609



Getting Past Your Own Shit



This blog is about FIGHTING.

I've been away for a while dealing with my own personal shit, but my heart never drifted from my Passion, Mission and Love for women and children; especially the Missing/Trafficked/Abused/Exploited.

The only way to get out of my own personal rut was to start writing again, though I had almost given up because I had originally deemed it necessary to have paragraphs full of captivating verbiage to start this blog, intimated by an impressive poetic family background, I now realize that I was only denigrating myself, which is exactly what I'm fighting against for others!

At times I just didn't have anything to say and felt helpless in the fight for justice. After attending human trafficking forums and learning that the real immediate need in the fight was monetary (something I was lacking) coupled with this crazy world we live in; including this newly elected "Pussy Grabbing, Racist" President, my confusion and lack of faith in humanity had only expounded, but I've learned that when I'm feeling the most defeated, is the prime moment to FIGHT, so here I am, boxing gloves and all. Let's do this!






Another Funeral


Dad said he was a sweet, sweet kid.

RIP Tehavis Price


Another Funeral on June 23, 2015


Why Lord are we here again...
In this sacred space so still,
So filled with shadows of silence and sorrow?
And who was this young man,
A still life snapped at nineteen years,
In flat profile, eyes closed, reposed
Forever,
Framed by satin and silence,
Forever?
He was Tehavis Price,
Owner of a life uniquely his.
He was friend --- or merely peer ---
Of all these young men and women
--- and me ---
Gathered in faceted gloom,
On a warm, June Thursday noon,
Rather than at work or play.
He was Tehavis Price,
Metea Valley High School Class of 2014,
Whose life vacancy, unlike his grave,
Cannot be filled.
Come, let’s cry for our young friend.
Hush! Hush. Amen.
our mind?


Written by my heartbroken Dad

 ~Jon C. Randall/Poetry Mentor of Tehavis Price

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Beauty is..

As I get older I realize this: Just because someone says you aren't beautiful doesn't make it so. Even if YOU yourself don't feel you're beautiful, doesn't make it so. Be beautiful anyway. It's not about complexion, hair texture or body proportions. Being beautiful is a choice, not an opinion. Screw what everyone else thinks about you. Just had to get that off my chest. Oh and by the way, You ARE so very beautiful.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

"On Getting a Natural"

This poem was written by my Late Great Uncle Dudley Randall for his friend and colleague
Gwendolyn Brooks.

She didn't know she was beautiful,
though her smiles were dawn,
her voice was bells,
and her skin deep velvet Night.

She didn't know she was beautiful,    
although her deeds,
kind, generous, unobtrusive,
gave hope to some,
and help to others,
and inspiration to us all. And
beauty is as beauty does,
they say.

Then one day there blossomed
a crown upon her head,
bushy, bouffant, real Afro-down,
Queen Nefertiti again.
And now her regal woolly crown  
declares,
I know
I'm black
AND
beautiful. 

~Dudley Randall




Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The "N" Word & Me

I was so mad earlier when on my drive home from work this woman called me a nigg**, second occurrence since I've been in Georgia (I'm not a southern belle, 1st time living in the South). Doesn't matter how light or dark you are, racism still marches on to its own incessant beat. Some folks are under the misconception that I'm immune to this, I'm not and have never been.  And even though being called something so inglorious /debasing/devaluing is tough to swallow, the good news is that I'm no longer angry, I pity this poor toothless woman & wish I hadn't accepted her invitation to react. Before bed I'm going to challenge myself by attempting to pray for her, but I cannot lie, I'm not sure if I'm up for the challenge, I can go through the motions by mouthing the words, but the true test is being genuine in my heart.  Guess I'll ask God for help as a try to win my power back.  I laugh at my girlfriend who when called a "Fat ni##** bit#" replied with "You can call me an "N", you can call me a "B", but don't you EVER call me fat!!!". Priceless.


Coping With Trials

Have you experienced pain and suffering? Then you have shared Job’s anguish and perhaps his wonderment. Like Job, you also may find God much closer than you thought.


The mood right now for myself & many is as somber as the weather we've been having, and like the weather, certain months are harder to get through than others. I'm missing many people right now; Maya, Zada, Grandma, Aunties/Uncles, best friends. There's just been so much loss lately and the majority have been people younger than me, it's hard and feels quite out of order. The bad news is; as you keep on living, you keep on losing. Still hurt by the idea of my nephew losing his mom at such a young age. It still feels so wrong despite what the bible is telling me how I should be feeling & reacting to life's challenges and feeling like a failure for not feeling & handling things "appropriately?". Takes me back to Job, guess he wasn't handling things so well either huh? So maybe there is a rainbow coming? Can we 1st catch our breath before something else tragic happens? We're all just trying to bear our own crosses in this fricked up, frucked up world. I have solitary spirituality, but I need community uplifting. I'm so alone, looking for something bigger, more purposeful than collection plates, big hats, tights dresses - the powdered and perfumed. I need something else. So what's the problem? The problem is the conditioning of the mind & learning how to escape it. And what the hell do I need to do to become my own Maya, Deepak, Ghandi, Oprah? Supposedly everyone has something within them to be just that, but how do you get there?  Lost.