I Don't Date Black Women

“I don’t date black women”. If you’ve ever uttered this phrase, and you’re black, please check yourself. And if you feel the need to say it to me, a BLACK WOMAN, then check yourself again.

Few things get me going, but this phrase strikes a personal chord with me every time. It hurts. Yes, even though I’m already happily married to a black man who loves and adores me, it still hurts because you are talking about ME. Saying “I don’t date black women” translates to “I don’t think black women are worth my love/affection/attention” or a combination of all three. 

Though I’m sure other races have said this about black women as well, I could care less. If you’re racist, your racist and that’s a whole other story – or blog post. But when I hear a black person say this about other black people, I feel a myriad of negative feelings. Let me break it down in an organized fashion, otherwise I could rant about this up and down, in zigzags and stripes:

Hurt – As I mentioned, if you “don’t date black women”, I take that personally and it hurts. What is so wholistically wrong with me that you wouldn’t want to get to know me on a deeper level? That you wouldn’t risk falling in love with me? And don’t tell me “well, not you specifically”… because if you made that ignorant, blanketed statement in the first place, than you have indeed included me in it

Confusion – Aren’t you black? In which case, isn’t your mama black? Got any sister’s and aunts with dark skin like your own? Do you think something is wrong with them too? How do you think they’d feel about your position on black women? How would you feel if someone told them they were born afflicted with inferiority… that they are not as beautiful as the other jewels on display? That they’re not worthy of your love/affection/attention? That they’ll be lucky to find someone who’ll love them and their big ass or nappy hair?

Pity – Ultimately, I pity the person with this mindset. Because to be black and hate black is to hate yourself. You can’t wash it off, no matter who you choose to date. Your children will be black, no matter how much you try to water down the percentage. You’ll always be seen as black, no matter the shade of the person on your arm. So get used to it. Better yet, LOVE IT.

I believe that love can find you in all kinds of shapes, sizes and colours. I’m not a purist or some radical freak. As a heterosexual female, I can assure you, I love men of ALL KINDS, lol!

It’s one thing to be open to love wherever it happens to find you. But it’s another to condemn an entire race based on your experiences with a few. So my people, before you go around saying “black women are this” or “black women are that” let me remind you that black women are… INDIVIDUALS. Like everyone else. Like you. Take a look in the mirror and check yourself.

I'll let Jill Scott take it from here:

iWrite. iSing.

I write. I sing. I write things to sing to. I consider this a gift and a blessing. If I didn't have words and music in which to express myself, Lord knows how I would have made it this far. I have so many feelings and ideas running through my head at any given time, that pens, paper, Word documents, iPhone notepads and now blogging have become the keepers of my sanity. These are the ways I get to unwind the tangled threads of my thoughts. It's either that, or talk my husband's ear off... (I'm thinking he prefers the former suggestions).

I started this love affair with words a long, long time ago. I was always excited about short story projects in elementary school, often receiving much praise from my teachers for my mature use of language and interesting plot twists. At the time, I didn't think I was all that special... I simply loved to read, so naturally I regurgitated much of the language and themes from the books I was reading (Babysitters Club, Nancy Drew, Sweet Valley High and the like).  But while all my female classmates were reading the same things, it was my writing that stood out from the rest.

So there you have it, I've always been special. :-)... as are you, whoever's reading this. It's been said so many times that we tend to ignore it, but we all really do have something special and unique to offer the world. I tend to forget that. Often. I'm always second guessing my writing, singing, performing, acting... things I KNOW I'm not only good at, but that I was born to do. But sometimes I let seeds of insecurity grow into a belief, forgetting who I am.

I performed a few songs at a fundraiser for my friend Arni's family the other day. He passed away last December (as I talked about here). I was more than happy to do it as I'm very close with his wife & children and would do anything for them. But I haven't performed in almost four months and I was afraid that it was going to show. I gave what felt like a mediocre performance and was grateful when I was able to get off the stage. There were no major mishaps... no cracked notes, no forgetting the words, in general it was "good". But I can tell you the word "special" was far from my vocabulary in that moment.

The fundraiser continued on to be a great night after that - lots of drinks, laughter and shared memories. I quickly got over myself and enjoyed the occasion with all the friends who'd come out. Then I was introduced to a girl by a mutual friend. She was a former co-worker of Arni's, but I'd never met her before this day. Or so I'd thought. She had seen me perform once before at another event and told me how much my voice resonates with her every time. That there's something about my aura, the way I sing and the songs I choose that really speak to her on another level. She added that I have something special... I have "it" and if anyone tells me differently, not to believe them. The conversation was about 15 minutes long, with me saying a number of awkward thank-yous between her kind words (why is it that I'm so quick to believe the negative things said about me, but compliments make me feel awkward?). Perhaps the convo would've gone on even longer, but I thanked her once more and excused myself, not knowing what to do with all her doting.

She's just one girl, I don't know her from Eve and perhaps her iPod is full of music I'd never listen to. But for some reason, I believed every word she said. Not just because I wanted to, but I felt like she was telling the truth. I'm not a celebrity, I'm not famous, there was nothing for her to gain by sharing with me in the way that she did. And because I know how God works with me, I believe it was a gifted reminder. My summer-long hiatus, though necessary, caused me to lose some faith in my abilities and her words got me a few steps closer to my full restoration.

I write. I sing. I write things to sing to. I consider this a gift and a blessing, because I know it can mean as much to you as it does to me. Through all the ups and downs, this is what I'll continue to do.

Transformation, Inspiration & Wotlessness!

Hello world!

I've been resisting the blogosphere because I didn't understand it's purpose for a musician. I've got music, photos and videos on my official website , what more could you want?

But I get it now. What my website was missing is ME! I'm more than a bio and some video clips or professional studio headshots. No one wants the candy-coated schpeal anymore, they want the truth. We don't just want to see artists perform, we want to SEE that artists are real people, with flaws and insecurities, mood swings and bad hair days.

That said, I wonder just how inconsistent this blog is going to be and if you're all going to think I'm a scatterbrained freak by the time I've made a few posts. Because while I'm very much a singer and songwriter by profession, there are a million other themes and topics that weigh on my mind from day to day (sometimes from moment to moment).

For instance, the past year has been one of monumental change for me. Since last spring to now, I got my first tattoo, got into a car accident, had a scare with my vocal chords, became vegan, started growing locs, took a 3-month hiatus from performing and played mas for Caribana for the first time (which was wicked fun, by the way). If I was blogging during that time, it would have been a hot mess! Or perhaps a very entertaining read, I guess I'll never know.

At any rate, this 3-month hiatus was just what I needed. I was already getting bored with my very short career and wasn't inspired to create or produce. So I sat this summer out and just let me be me. At first I felt silly, calling myself a singer yet not having any shows on the horizon and a very lazy dazy studio schedule. But I knew forcing it wasn't the answer, so while I patiently awaited the Inspiration Train, I had what might be the best summer I've ever had. I hit up the CN Tower, Ontario Place, Wonderland (twice), Sugar Beach, Beaches Jazz Festival and more.

Along the way, I did end up catching that train (better to wait for it then tear up the tracks in frustration). I'm working on a mix-tape and a full-length album (with Silver Roland) simultaneously, co-producing a fundraising event for SKETCH and finding my groove in the film/tv industry once again. I'm back!

Even with all that, I still have to say that Caribana was the highlight of my summer.  For real! I kinda felt like I was under water for a while and this was my 'coming out' party, so to speak, llol. If I learned anything during this whole transformation process or whatever it was, it's that there's nothing sunshine, Soca and a bikini can't fix :-)...