One Tackle for Reggie - The Spirit of Diversity

Every time I think about it, I still can't believe Green Bay Packers Superstar Reggie White is no longer with us. He was one of my favorite football players. I couldn't tell you anything about his stats though... It was his stature that I loved about him. There was no question that he was a man of God, and he wasn't ashamed of it. So I thought I'd dedicate this entry to him.

lol... Reg', I remember one time you were giving a speech at some occasion. I didn't really get into the details of it, I just caught onto it because I heard your name and saw you pop up. It was a motivational speech of some sort I think, and somewhere along the line the issue of race reared its head. There was a part where you were describing various traits of various ethnicities. You had the most sincere, nonchalant tone and not the slightest bit of malice. People didn't take well to it though. Matter of fact, they made you apologize for it, lol. But it's the perfect setup for me to tackle a very important issue, so your honesty will not be in vain. This tackle's for you, Reg'...

When they call America the Melting Pot of the World, they aren't kidding. Melting pot... conforming all into one. Generally, when it comes to race and ethnicity, that's the American way. The answer to whether or not this is right or wrong is going to be different from person to person. But I don't think this is the question I'm going to address this go-round.

What I wish to address is the claim of diversity that America makes. If one takes a good look at it, one might realize that the diversity we claim and the diversity we practice are not the same; possibly the diversity we practice is more of a hinderance to diversity. As a child, the watchword when it came to race and diversity was "colorblind". The premise was "don't discriminate against others based on their ethnic/racial differences". As far as this goes, that's a good concept to abide by. Here's the problem: we take colorblindness further than non-discrimination. Colorblind also means that we strive to negate cultures outside of the "established" American culture. In other words this: "we won't discriminate, but adopt this way of doing things and abandon your own ways". It truly is like a melting pot in that various elements are melted down into one substance, each element losing it's unique properties in favor of the larger substance. But we refer to this as diversity.

No. This isn't real diversity. I once wrote this in a rhyme, and I think it's the best depiction of the true spirit of diversity: "I'm not colorblind, I'm cultured". Put simply, the type of diversity we should seek is not the melding of peoples into the established culture, but the appreciation of peoples and their races and ethnicities. We've attempted to do away with racial and ethnic identities. We've been taught to get offended and say that it's all stereotypes, but if we take an honest look at ourselves we see that different groups do exhibit traits that make them unique. Put it this way... it's not a stereotype until you LIMIT an individual or group to those traits. A cultured person says, "I recognize that you and I are not the same, but I appreciate what you are and acknowledge your potential to become whatever you seek to become".<-------That's the Spirit of Diversity!

Now, Bro. Reggie, I hope after reading this entry people will see your controversial statements not as a threat to diversity, but as the statements of a man who knows what it is to be cultured. Maybe the melting pot we have become is really a deprived society in need of true diversity, where we can be ourselves and not be ashamed to admit we are different. Differences are to be appreciated, not suppressed or frowned upon.

Bloodroot

Alright... I'll get to the Bloodroot of this in a minute. First, a couple of preeliminaries...

Before anybody regurigates the usual "you're so unpartiotic/if you don't like America, you can leave" rhetoric, feel free to be intelligent for once.

1) Talk to me about being patriotic when they put your lifeon the frontline in Iraq... not your son's, not your daughter's. I'm not gonna badmouth the President or Republicans, cuz when you look at it, the balance is still in balance: we just traded in abortion for war casualties.

2) When you're so wrapped up into something that you can't see it's flaws, that's not love... it's infatuation (infatuation is from the Latin word "fatuus", meaning... lol, look it up...). And that goes for loving people as well as loving countries. Love helps the loved entity address it's flaws or becomes the solution to it's flaws. If the thing you love is flawless, then why does it need you? Food for thought...

Back to action (this isn't the Bloodroot yet... patience, patience). Today we're talking about economy vs. humanity. Basically this: there are places that are more concerned about their economies than their people. Evidently, a country is more economics than it is population? For example:

I recently visited Canada... OH how I love Canada! Did you know people in Canada can actually go to hospitals and get treatment if they're sick? "Well, we can do that in America too!" Really? Try being poor and getting expensive treatment you can't afford. You're pretty much dead here. You know what that says to me? "We're more concerned about your money than you. We can afford to lose you, but we need that money."

The only allegiance I pledge is to the Trinity. So it doesn't take much for me to say this: America is more concerned about it's economy than its people. Say something if you ain't scared (as my pastor would say). What's more, America as of recent is deadset against Canada because Canada is living up to everything America claims to be. I found out a few weeks ago about the U.S. trying to stop people from BUYING MEDICINE from more-affordable Canada SO THAT THEY CAN GET WELL. Does that sound humane to you? "You can't afford it here, so you don't deserve it anywhere", I guess? Canada has become subtly hated among __________ Americans because, for the first time, America has another image to compete with instead of being the "standard of right" (that's a pun) that is has always presented itself as. And, like a jealous love interest, America is afraid of her lovers leaving her. (and on that note, maybe I don't love America all that much. Time will tell...)

Noooooooooooooow... the Bloodroot. I woke up this morning to a headline: "Ga. Healer Targeted Over Cancer Treatment". Before I even read it, several things popped into my head. "Healer... Targeted? But 'Healer' means he actually helped some people, right?" Then the word "Cancer Treatment". Ladies and Gentlemen, my mother has cancer. She's had it for some years now. 'Matter of fact, she's at home in bed right now because of a bogus cancer medication foul-up.

The man's name is Curtis Brown. Mr. Brown has been practicing medicine without a license, but it seems he may have in his possession an herb that actually destroys cancerous cells (more accurately, causes them to 'self destruct'). It's called Bloodroot, scientific name Sanguinaria Canadensis. Now, I don't agree with practicing medicine without a license because terrible things can come from that. But a possible cure for cancer? Why isn't anybody jumping on this Bloodroot herb and trying to see if it's the real thing? I think I agree with Mr. Brown's son. According to the article: "He said his father's paste is being singled out because it's an old remedy that can't be patented and therefore wouldn't generate large profits for the medical establishment or giant pharmaceutical companies." (side note... that's the first time I heard a non-Black say that!)

Now, some people complained of alleged damage caused by the herb. The Browns say it only destroys cancerous cells. To me, it doesn't matter either way. My mom has taken several "on the book" medications. She's had the inside of her mouth covered in sores to the point she couldn't eat, and she still can't taste anything even now. Her hair has fallen out recently. Her arms and legs became inflamed to the point she had to stay in a hospital over the weekend. And bruises and similar such injuries have appeared all over her, including a huuuuge swelling on one of her arms. What difference does it make then, supposing that Bloodroot
does cause damage. I say, better damage with cure than damage without cure.

What happened to the days when, if something like this came up, the headline would read, "Possible Cure for Cancer Found"! Instead, I expect to see only a few articles and the word Bloodroot hushed among the mouths of the press. So, I called this blog entry "Bloodroot". For those of you who read this, keep the word in circulation. And America, please be more concerned about giving your people a cure for cancer than making a monetary profit off of it. Supposedly, it's "the American way".

What If...

The question of the ages... This simple question is the beginning of so much. "What if" probably birthed every invention known to man. Every movement in human history probably began with "what if"... "what if we could be free", "what if we took a stand", "what if there's a better way to live".

Unfortunately for me, most of my "what ifs" stem from mistakes I've made. "What if" is the greatest enemy I've ever had. It's all because, for the majority of my life, I've been the posterboy for missed opportunities. Especially when it comes to--- you guessed it--- love.

As a kid I was a really shy cat. The one desire I had was acceptance (which was hard to get since I was usually the "smart kid" in my class), so rejection was something I didn't know how to deal with. My attitude was, "better to never ask than to ask and be rejected."

Then came high school, where I was less afraid of being rejected and more afraid of getting involved with the wrong girls. I was overly picky with purpose: 1) I didn't want a girl who was all beauty on the outside and all ugly on the inside; 2) I didn't want the vice versa... or let's say I didn't want a girl who was a gem, but didn't attract me, because attraction does play its part. Bottom line, I didn't want a girl that didn't truly excite me because I might be tempted to cheat or not put my all into the relationship. So my attitude was now, "wait... wait... not yet... wait... waaaaait... aaaaalmost...".

Yeah, that continued all the way thru my first year in college...

Now we get to the "what if's". Ladies and gentlemen, there is no heartbreak like the heartbreak of the unknown. It's one thing when you're in a relationship and it doesn't work out; that's painful to deal with. It's something worse when you wonder what might have been and have no way to ever find an answer. I decided to put the following events into episodes:

Episode 1...
There was a special young lady in high school that I was too afraid to ask out. Actually, when I think back, it was because I was pursuing someone I was stuck on from middle school, but I'll get to that later... Long story short, by the time I got up the nerve to approach her, that very same day I transferred high schools. Sad thing was, I found out she was actually down to be with me.

But here's the most beautiful part. I kept dreaming about her and kept telling myself, "if I could only see her again... just one more opportunity..." When I was about 19 or 20 (I'm 22 now by the way) I got word she was working in the mall. No hesitation, I jumped in my car and flew down the highway with my mind set to do what I should've done back in high school...

BOY should I have done it in high school!!!

(cue waterworks) Come to find out, she's married now; I'm talking, she was pregnant when I was talking to her. And me being the Christian I claim to be, I couldn't dream of trying to change that. Even though, and my sister attested to this, she seemed sincerely happy to see me.

What If's 1, Jig 0.

Episode 2...
Chronologically, I shoulda put this first. But it occurred in two parts, so time isn't really important. Oh well...

Back in the 10th grade, there was a particular young lady; I don't know where she was from, but she had that "Atlanta" vibe all over her. She was very forward, very beautiful, with that "annoying" southern twang, and dancing skills... oh my, dancing skills like... well, I didn't know what a three-point stance was until she came along. That's between you and me...

I got word that she was feelin the new kid (that was me in the 10th grade) and Lord knows how I was feelin about her. Her friends kept interrogating me with random questions and going back to her (I surmised; wasn't 100% certain but I had a hunch). I was dead set to ask her out. And guess what folks... I DID IT! I straight up approached her! ME! Prollem was (that's "problem" for you sticklers), she politely said she wasn't feeling me like that. I didn't believe her, but what could I say. To this day, I still think I just approached her wrong.

But that little bit of doubt--- "What if she was lying?"--- it stuck with me for YEARS. You know that song by Aaliyah, "Try Again"? I kept wondering if that was all I had to do. Then it happened... Last year her little brother and my little sister were supposed to graduate high school in the same class. Meaning... she would HAVE to be at graduation, right? I got my clothes tight, cleaned my shoes (which I never do), got a fresh cut, let my family ride separately; it was perfect.

Got to the graduation, and I was checking HARD. Next thing I know, I run into my homeboy who's a DJ. 'Hadn't seen him for a year and a half, so we start talking on some music tip. Ladies and Gentlemen... SHE ARRIVED AND WALKED RIGHT BEHIND ME. She had on a blue sundress with the shoulders open and no straps. Soft, beautiful, skin. Just flawless, even moreso than I remembered. Come to think of it, she's one of the few that actually seemed to look BETTER as years went by.

So what did I do?... (dropping my head) I said, "Hi". She said, "Hi". I asked how she was doing. She said she was fine. Then... I... went... back... to... talking... to... the... DJ?!!!! Well, in my shock, I immediately made a mental note of the fact that she didn't seem overly joyed to see me or anything. In retrospect... I CHOKED. I BLEW it. I LOST CONTROL. To be so bold all those years ago, only to choke on the second attempt...

What If's 2, Jig 0.

Episode 3...
I got one more. This time, I was in college. My first year. And I met somebody. An exotic girl who dug the same music I was into--- I mean, how many girls out there are into Goodie Mob? She was interesting to me because she was so different than any of the girls I had kicked it with in the past: shaped like a sista, pale-skinned (not white), indian facial features, but somehow just a round-the-way girl in the summation of it. In some way no one would ever agree with, I saw something of myself in her that attracted me beyond measure. To be honest, she was the first girl in my life that I ever envisioned myself marrying.

Now, no offense to my sistas, but any seasoned brotha would know better than to listen to sistas when it comes to forming opinions on a person anything short of a sista. Me... I was as far from seasoned as one could be at the time; a pure love rookie. So when my ladyfriends started telling me to stay away from her, I trusted them instantly. And just imagine, I used to be the smartest kid in school just a few years before that...

It's not that the girls were wrong per se. But this is the lesson I learned from it all: before you believe anyone, even somebodyyou think is looking out for your best interest, find out for yourself. I cut this girl out of my life before I let her get too close. And to this day, I keep asking myself, "What if they were wrong?" And it doesn't even matter if they were right because, guess what... There's no proof of that either.

Now she's living out her dreams in the music business, the only real common ground I ever allowed to exist between us.

What If's 3, Jig 0

Now, I've seen and been in MC text battles on the Net. 3-0 in the voting is a KO. So that's about how I'm feeling right now. My advice to all the young hearts out there... don't have any "what if's" to follow you for the rest of your life. They're not pleasant company for long trips, warm nights, quite moments alone...

Now Boarding...

"Romancexpress now boarding..." Greetings to all happening along this blog. And no, this isn't necessarily about meeting people, falling in love, or any of the usual first things that come to mind when one hears the word "romance"; although, I do think all that stuff has a place here...

Anywasy, whasup. I go by the moniker Jig. Before anybody gets offended, this was a name I chose for myself based on the things that go on inside me... At times I feel like my soul does a jig, as in dance. So, the selection of "Jig" had nothing to do with racism in any form; I'm Black, I'm proud, and I love everybody. And I'm not changing the name to appease anyone because, ironically, that would mean I'm not free---agreed?

Tangents,tangents...

Romancexpress is simply me exposing my soul. I hold tightly to a lot of fading, lofty, obsolete ideals that no longer have a place in the society we live in. Now, these ideals have a place. Think of it as a land of misfits, lol... If you support the romantic expressions I share here, thank you for helping to keep the romance alive. If you disagree with them, don't expect me to get mad. There's really no point, plus I've already got too much on my mind...

This is really just a vent for me, and I thought maybe someone out there might love what I love. Might make for some good night reading. And I would love to discover that there are others out there like me because, in my city, we seem few and far between.

So, last call... "Romancexpress is now boarding... Lovers, dreamers, believers, hopefuls, and misfits..."