Hi Ms. Sherry!!!

I am quite impressed with the breadth of information I have acquired since I started on the path to both mother and woman hood. I have had the wonderful opportunity to:
work my way through school (earning two degrees), have three children, and be self-supporting through all of it. That by no means says that I have accomplished all of this on my own. I had a small, but incredibly consistent team of women who knew it was part of my "real life training" to go through heartaches, disappointments, false starts and plan collapses. What amazes me is how every experience sets the stage for something else that happens in the future.

I went to a Parent Conference, sponsored by the UFT today. I walked right into a childhood friend, parents whose children attended my after-school programs, after-school professionals who took trainings I facilitated or managed and professional mentors and colleagues. It was truly breath-taking for me. I have been struggling with a definition of myself and what I do, how to take all of the skills I have developed and present them in a comprehensive way that makes sense and in which the connections are clearly visible. The only way I have found to do this which is both effective and honest is to label myself, The BlackLove Advocate. Really. This may be for a few reasons.

One of the reasons being that I was not raised in a black neighborhood. I had to actively seek out Black people to identify with them. Culturally, my influences were predominantly Latino and white. I grew up with an incredible mix of "friends" as I understood them, but I rarely felt as though I had an automatic affiliation with any group. I loved the difference and richness of various cultures and always sought to understand or experience a "taste" of a world outside of my own. This passion was only ignited by the many books I devoured. The racial diversity of my classes and teachers did little to herd me into the racially isolated groups teens tend to gravitate toward in high school. I truly felt the "melting pot" aspect of culture rather than the "mixing bowl" reality I eventually chose to submit to.

I always identified ethnically as Black, but when I was around Black people I never quite fit in. This perhaps, may be the reason I delved so deeply into African and Black American history as well as engulfing myself in the throes of Hip-Hop culture. It is true that everyone needs a peer group, particularly during those rough adolescent years. I thought that these needs were being filled by my extended family, however, my personality was a bit too bland for the likes of my kinfolk. What then would someone like myself do? You run from group to cause to association to experience to religion to art to institution in hopes of finding the place and identity that "fits". The result? An unintented consequence of never walking into a room, conference, or neighborhood and not knowing at least 3 people!!!!

Is there anything else to say?

Security over Passion?

There is always a slight regret that he does not inspire passion
I think about the things that are important trust respect values
longevity productivity self-awareness a Deep Desire and Need to
respect and understand the Animating force of the Universe and
I simply
do not understand how he comes to many of his conclusions
worldviews and politics Much more comfortable sitting down
discussing dead Greek philosophers than relating to the children
and challenges before us right now How Can That Be Possible
If I don't trust you have a stake in the future I cannot trust you with my heart
or flesh
I live for the promise that what I do today will strongly and positively
impact the world I create and leave for my children and descendants
Tomorrow I Really Believe That
if I let
The honey amber brown eyed Colombian man into my soul Allow him
to know the girl that washes white rice loves to make platanos y sopa
de espinaca and adores a properly made pollo guisado I will be able to
relax and release all the pent up frustration in my body and mind

If I let the
Cream colored flesh lay atop my dulce de leche we will develop a rhythm
only we can dance to heavy breathing the bassline moans the up beat
him serving as cantante as he courts my passion Muneca que quieres
Mi Amor Se que tu eres una buena mujer Estoy aqui Claro que si soy
tuyo I fall passive in his melody provide the adlibs

I have to laugh Feeling like my face will crack because it is unfamiliar with the
reality of a dream made real Used to seeing something else So clear he
likes me to be beside him So clear he wants my love So clear he doesn't want
to make promises that will have to be broken
Is it clear to him that
He is the one I think about
when the world becomes disrespectful of my work talent and midastouching
the man
I want to grieve with
as we replace the elders we revere
the man
that is able to help me not be a nervous wreck when it comes
to giving my children the space children need to become
individuals who are competent enough to live in the world and
not have to come home because they can make it
I wonder
if he sees and understands that I am certain
God would not ever break our hearts if it wasn't to build our
resistance to unworthy lovechoices based on what we want
to see/feel/be seen as rather than what will build our souls
and ability to be the Lights and Guides He designed us to be for the
invisible forgotten miscounted and undereducated/prepared who will one
day inherit this earth and work Those who help us focus and maintain
our own character and righteousness are those we should pull closer
and not push away There is nothing wrong loving and NOT
suffering in that Love There is nothing wrong with loving
There is nothing wrong with love I just wonder
is he
Clear

I found myself writing this to my special friend. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the funny thing to me is the fact that we have both be thoroughly hurt in the past and have decided to take things slow, painfully slowly it seems for BOTH of us. We thought it would be fun to hang out and talk, perhaps catch a flick and every now and then blow off some steam. It seems however, that the lovegods decided they needed a laugh. We started to speak then found out that we have a lot, a lot in common. Scary. What of this other, in the beginning of the poem? Well, he is actually someone that I adore and whose company I enjoy. He is the man the kids would call "uncle", I would damn near list him as the emergency contact person on the blue cards (people in NYC know what I'm talking about). My thoughts to myself are, "If you trust him so completely with your children, why don't you trust him with your heart and life?" But ladies (and gentle men), really, haven't you ever been with someone who you know is a great choice, intellectually, but your "heart" just didn't pitter-patter for them? That has been my dilemma with this particular person...for years.

My mother says, "Daughter, you're getting older. Marry that man then have a lover." He nearly suggested the same thing. "Piph, I support you. Whatever you need to feel like yourself is fine with me. I'll always be here, I know you have needs that I may not be able to fulfill." Really? I found this strange and a bit unsettling. I told him, "I think you would be a great husband, but I would be a terrible wife." My elderbrother says, "You are well within your right to not desire a good man. Men refuse good women all of the time. Do Not get into a relationship with someone you do not feel passion for. It isn't good for you and eventually will cause problems for them." My girlfriends found this to be a no brainer, somewhat combining the two previous answers, "Be with him until something better comes along." THAT RESPONSE amazed me because these are the same women who I've spent hours with explaining how the "heartbreaker" just did that...to them! The conversations have gone something like this:
"But why did he marry her?"
"He wanted to"
"But I helped him through school and co-signed for a car for him."
"He wants a life with her."
"Yeah, but he told me that we were great for each other."
"Well, apparently that was for that moment, et al." How could they be the ones to suggest such a thing? Incredible, and yes, sad but true. My question today:

How important is passion when considering a long-term "love project"(a la Rupert P. Marshall, in the best movie about Urban BlackLove, Claudine)?

BlackLove Defined

What is BlackLove?
To me, it is actually very simple. BlackLove awakens the mind and opens the heart. For real. It makes you feel alive, protected, secure, capable. At least it does if it's good. BlackLove also makes you feel as though you have a responsibility to ride through storms, move forward in spite of crosses burning on a lawn, ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being the "only" in a room because there is something larger at stake. BlackLove, in its rawest form, allows the heart to breathe, be supported by the mind, and propelled forward by the body. BlackLove is amazing. I also find that BlackLove is incredibly disrespected, abused, misused and saddest of all, misunderstood. My working definition of BlackLove is akin to Don Spears definition of Goodp***y. For those unfamiliar with the book Goodp***y, here is my working definition of BlackLove:

BlackLove (yes,onewordsimplybecauseIamunabletoseparateonefromtheother)
is a force of nature that allows one to believe that:
moments do trump outcomes,
their dreams are their personal roadmaps to fulfillment,
desire, passion, perfection and the ability to worship
Creation through flesh is absolutely the purpose of good,
hot sex, and
Rainbows that span vanilla to onyx are indeed the
prettiest and most natural in the diaspora of
humanity.
This blog will chronicle my experiences, my heartaches, triumphs, trials, questions, passions and journey to find my own manifestion of BlackLove in reality. This blog is intended to be interactive so I am hoping that you will comment and share some of your own experiences. I am also testing a theory, Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein, said, "Do not be afraid to share your hopes and fears with the world, because we all have the same hopes and fears." Personally, I am tired of hearing people, men in particular say to me, "Yeah, but Piph, you are not the average chick. You can't count yourself in that." I thoroughly disagree. I know waayy too many beautiful, black women who are lonely and spending incredible amounts of money for temporary situations or distractions to ease the fact that yes, they will be facing another night during which the other side of the bed will be empty.

Marriage? Impossible for black women? Nope. I do think however, women have to change in order for men to change.

Polygymy/Polygyny? Whatever. I don't care if there are 7 available women to every 1 available man. I know what I'm not going for, I know what I don't want.

Good for the Gander, Good for the Goose? Maybe. Just as long as that is what the Goose really, really wants to do.

This is the place where we will explore those types of things, hopefully, extensively. Why? Because, all this good Brown Sugar is tooo dammnn good to waste and we all know, Sugar turns Black when you Burn it. WELCOME AND ENJOY!!!! (or maybe just rant....weep...lament...roll on the floor, pulling out your hair...whatever.)