Just MakeItBetter

Years ago I shared an apartment with a young man who, although harmless himself, was raised in an environment the opposite of my own childhood. He shared stories of threatened walks home and an involvement in things the likes of me can’t understand. At one point his childhood friend became a somewhat permanent fixture on our living room couch. I was reassured by my boyfriend (also the roommate’s best friend) that this mysterious creature dozing with my chenille throw each morning was an innocent six foot bundle. I swallowed my discomfort and in the weeks that followed I found an ally and a friend in the most unusual of circumstances.

He had the darkest of skin, the kind that was lost with light, but found again through the whitest of smiles. His speech slurred with a drawl not akin to a southern hospitality, but instead the result of limited articulation. He chose a style straight out of the hood, baggy, dark and embellished. His name (or the one he chose to go by) was an acronym that referenced NYC and he was friendly to me; the petite white girl living with his friend. I started contemplating my own prejudices upon his arrival; the initial unease I felt when seeing this strange person snuggled amongst my down pillow. I have friends derivative of all ancestry, Nigerian, Trinidadian, Korean, Greek, Italian and to top it off I am madly in love with an olive skinned Puerto Rican-Aruban mutt. These cultural differences have never been an issue for me, if anything, more an interest, reveling in the diversity. I wondered whether the unsettling feeling would have been nonexistent had he been wearing a Brooks Brothers suit. Oddly, despite my media and societal laced biases I quickly relinquished this stranger roaming my apartment.

Alone.

All day.

After a few many days of he and I sharing the apartment together, we started to share our lunchtime as well. He told me about his children and his interests, his friends and our mutual acquaintances. He was funny and spirited, a good listener. He seemed sharp and good natured, calm and not at all aware of the severe shorthand he was given in life. His vocabulary and philosophies emphasized his lack of education. Sad it made me, such potential squandered in poverty and circumstance. He changed me, being the first inner city black man I’d every been able to get to know intimately. I learned to identify him with who he was rather then what his external appearance associated with.

The biases I felt are unfortunately not entirely extinguished, largely due to the realities that statistically follow our inner cities. They stay with me more as a impermanent truth, warning me for potential characters that may not be as kind as my houseguest. I see clearly how the negative behaviors of few cause so many to judge all, while much like my new friend, they are just victims themselves. Tormented souls unaware how they are struggling survivors of Darwinism, society and their inability to know their own potential and possibility.Unlike me, they don’t have a society, family and community believing in them, loving them, and guiding them with an encouraged hand.

But shouldn’t there be?

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Almost anyone I know ever met, hates their corporate job.
By the looks of that sentence it’s rough out there.

But here’s a look at why:

1. Control me master, please. Company owners, management and bosses leash you up the best they can, more so then my mother ever did.

2. Cheap chairs. It’s hard to feel valuable when your back hurts and you watch your boss buy a $460 piece of glass for him to make more ‘company art’ with.

3. Hovering. Why are people so nosy? Just let me work.

4. Trying not to starve. Eating out costs a significant amount of money and packing lunch gets tiring and transporting it gets old.

5. Presence = productivity. Whoever was the bastard that spread this message around is lucky he’s probably already dead or half the American workforce would get off their “pretending to work” asses just to hunt him down.

6. Time = commitment. Why doesn’t passion and enthusiasm = commitment? Some people get it.

7. Entitlement. They pay your wage therefore they own the rest of your life.

8. Commuting. Thanks, you just made me miss my train. Again. For a FedEx box. I know, you’re too good to drop one off yourself.

9. Tardiness. Don’t be late, it defines your commitment. Like time, remember? Besides, those fifteen minutes help define all of todays productivity.

10. It’s illegal, but still taking lunch is frowned upon. Apparently no one there ever heard about Netflix.

11. Nannies can raise kids. Who cares about the next generation, you’re needed now, and no you can’t do it tonight.

12. I gave you time off on Christmas Eve. There’s a definite sense that one should be grateful for given national holidays off.

13. You’re fired. But our crappy executives got a bonus for deciding it. Enough said.

14. Your boyfriend died? Oh sorry, bereavement time is only for immediate family members. We’ll have to doc your pay.

15. Sick days don’t exist. Staying home when sick is smart, but coming into work sick is dedication!

16. Earn your keep. Like a stray mutt, please prove you’re even worth keeping around.

17. You give two weeks notice. We’ll likely give you none.

18. Screw women. They’ll just end up having babies & leaving anyway.

19. Everything that goes wrong is because I’m an idiot. No, not because you can’t delegate.

20. Drink coffee, take speed. Do whatever it is you need to do. Just don’t nap; being awake means you deserve your check.

It’s understood that companies need to make money, but if they were more like this, they’d realize that the more you give the more you get. People will develop loyalty to companies that care about them and develop their policies around the good of everyone.

Just be great and great people will be too.

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I’ve encountered and befriended a many ‘freaks and geeks’ in my life. Who knows, maybe I attract them to me. Their outward appearance was typical for the terms affixed to them and they usually lamented the negative feedback, mastering claims of necessary tolerance and acceptance. Although, I’d have to acknowledge the hardships they were regularly exposed too, after some extended observations the isolation that many people feel appears to me as mostly self inflicted.

During adolescence when one is stricken with the misery of high school and puberty they can’t be blamed for experimentation and rebellion. It is those that carry the identity crisis far into adulthood that appear to live inwardly as one individual and outwardly as the figure they’d like to portray. These freaks, Jones’s chases and other extreme forms of “uniqueness” are not non- conformists, but instead a representative for acceptance into any group, no matter how rejected it is from another one. (Hmm, isn’t a conscious rejection to conformity a form of conformity itself?) These so-called rejected groups pass the same great judgment on others that they claim victim of, and all the while try more and more to fit into the image that they want to be accepted as. If you’ve ever just met an acquaintance you’ll know the strains that can sometimes be created by differences. It is that much harder to connect with a person when gothic makeup covers the length of their face, smearing their eyes, and basically distracting you from who they are but rather what they showcase. Such extremities affix a person to the outward rather then the inward and since these adornments are a choice, I can’t help but consider the isolation and withdrawal is a choice as well.

If you’re trying hard to be different, the odds are you’re trying to hard. If you damn the person who judges your dress of choice but also sneer at your neighbors, you are one in the same; with your attitude creating both situations. The outside will always look at you as different until you stop seeing yourself as so. Once you start accepting yourself, appreciating and demonstrating your undeniable, authentic beauty, you’ll attain acceptance from those that share your inner strength. The resistance you’ll feel from others is a demonstration to the strides you’ll be making. As they judge your differences from the herd they will be forced to look within themselves - never an easy journey for pack followers. The less you care about the external simplicities of your peers the greater impact you’ll have on them and yourself.

People who go to extremes, whether it be with makeup, money, or even this, they are aiming for acceptance from someone. It is a mask that forces those around them to fight to experience the person that lies underneath, which proves the seekers acceptance and love. The authenticity of who you were born to be is cooler, hotter and far more appreciated then the image you could ever try to maintain.

Dammit, just be yourself.

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I was determined to find my friend.

I had lost her when our mutual form of employment was closed down and our lives headed onto different paths. We’d always had a relationship that strayed in different directions, but eventually we’d meet up again, certain to enrich our friendship with our travels.

When we met she was a middle-aged mother of five who was born and raised in Trinidad. Tall, with caramel colored skin, six pack abs, and behind her struggles she had vibrancy and an appreciation for life unlike any I’d ever seen. I was still an insecure teenager with fair skin, blue eyes, who was raised in a small American village without a locked front door. My marred heart and youthful optimism and her warm humor and sincerity gave us an instant magnetism.

I felt my first twinge of panic when I called her phone to find a Latin American immigrant hang up on me during my interrogation. What do you mean, aren’t you supposed to know the whereabouts of the number’s previous owner?

Despite my dwindling fear that something horrible happened (death, deportation, her decision to eradicate me from her life) I felt relentless that I’d find her and I set out to it with great perseverance.

With McGuyver like resourcefulness (i.e. the internet) I started my search. Here’s a list of what my (mostly failed) attempts consisted of:

1. Stalking all those we had worked with (annoying & proof of my determination)
2. Driving around her old not-so-safe neighborhood in the hopes that I would figure out which house she lived in and see if anyone knew her still. (scary)
3. Googling anyone that might know her contact information (inconsistent)
4. Contacting government agencies (fruitless)
5. Going to her daughter’s school and trying to spot her nine-year-old (ethically conflicting)
6. Calling my Ex’s (surprisingly uplifting)
7. Researching her Ex’s (weird)
8. Contacting her old employers (useless)

A contact from another co-worker finally called me and knew her new number. She hadn’t been deported; she had lost her phone. (Eye roll.) While speaking with her I felt like a mother who wanted to hug and kill her returned lost child.

I found her!

Had I given up I may never have. Had I allowed defeat to win I wouldn’t have the joy of my best friend again. I could have lost her.

What are you giving up because of hard work, huge challenges, or the victory of defeat?

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Very recently a friend quit the reliable writing job he had with a national entertainment publication. He’d been quite successful given that he’s managed to make a wage interviewing movie stars and reviewing music. Now past his twenties he decided to take a chance and try to live his dream of becoming a screenwriter. Amongst the roar of our congratulations he pessimistically grumbled his thanks, appearing not to expect much from his endeavor. His talent is obvious, indicated by his writing success thus far and the commendable achievement of being one of twenty or so invited to attend USC Film School. Yet, despite these encouraging factors he was captious and cynical. He needed some inspiration, some fairy dust to brighten his step because without hope and faith his goals would forever be just a dream.

Since fear is the root of failure and the fear of failure is the creator of it, the excuses and frustrations we concentrate on when faced with the struggle of getting what we want is essentially the core killer of our successes. In spite of our capabilities many of us create limitations as to why we cannot strive for certain things. Believing in your own greatness while carrying confidence and the hope that it could be is the one thing that will take you there, because without it you’ll be tripping over your own bullshit the entire way.

People don’t necessarily change, they grow, and if you’d like to shift your attitude from the cynical pessimist to the positive go-getter you’ll need to work on it first. How do you work on it? What do you have to do?

Here’s a list of ways to get started:

1. Read or watch something that inspires you. There are many different types of self help books out there, I am sure if you look around you’ll find some that fit your fancy. Not all of them are laden with commercialized saccharine.

Movies such as Stranger then Fiction and Life is Beautiful and Ratatouille are sure to leave you with a splendid afterglow.
2. Spend time with those that encourage you. You know those haters that talk about statistics and pretty much deflate your enthusiasm with as little as a raised eyebrow? Yeah, stay away from them or don’t mentioning your new life. You’ll need reinforcement at times like this so stop the self-hatred and drop the meanies.
3. Seek out other risk takers. Nothing is more inspirational then seeing those that already succeeded. You can find them pretty much anywhere, but it seems the blog world has a lot of them. Besides having something nice to look up too, you can learn from their mistakes along the way and get some pep when you’re feeling like crawling back into your shell of resistance.
4. Write down your accomplishments. While trying to perform new goals, there can be many learning curves (or life) that will affect your progress. In order to keep yourself focused, make a list of everything you’ve done that day. No matter how trivial it may seem everything does count when on your way to the land of positivism.
5. Learn some damn gratitude. In every situation there is good and bad, but we only seem to notice the shit we step in. Every time you catch yourself thinking about destructive commentary, stop and shift. Mentally write down things in your life that are wonderful, and all the ways you are a blessed person. No matter how bad you think it is, it’s always much better.

The only thing that stops something from forming is your own dumb ass. Get out of your own way and learn to find the brilliant, fabulous person you are (or could be), because once you’ve found them, you’ll find success.

and on that note…

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I’ve recently decided to start volunteering on a regular basis. I decided to offer my services to a senior citizen non-profit that paired you with a homebound elderly person that was looking for companionship and some small aid. I figured it would be perfect for me considering my explorations in life haven’t given me much access to the elderly and their great life experience, while I can offer them some of my best conversation and perhaps, baked goods.

Yesterday I had a meet and greet with my first potential match.  The volunteer coordinator and I sat in Michelle’s* living room and chatted. Sadly, within just a few minutes the seventy two year old woman managed to insult my choice of pre-marital cohabitation as well as undermine my decision for it.  As she superiorly demoralized me and discussed the consequences of “getting the milk for free” I was not only taken aback by her rudeness but also confused about her personal stance on the matter.  She contradicted herself a few times. At one point she mentioned a nephew whose recent divorce caused financially ruin because of the ending marriage and the child support requirements, thereby she disagreed with the marriage.  No matter my stance on the issue, the clarity of her own was beyond me and from the look of the coordinator accompanying me, I wasn’t the only one confused.

When the meeting came to a supposed end we started with our goodbyes, but Michelle* requested that I stay behind and help her with some mail.  I uncomfortably agreed for I was a little determined to find out more about this woman. Surely, she couldn’t be as sour as she seemed.  In the additional hour I was there we discussed hot topics including the war and the medical industry. Apparently my nationality was very important as she felt it was necessary to bring up my Italian last name more than once.  Thankfully, I failed to mention my boyfriend was of a mixed ethnicity before she happened to mention his race negatively a few times.

She seemed to be embittered by her position in life. An older woman with no family or close friends, now legally blind from a degenerative eye disease.  She aired a sense of entitlement. As though she didn’t deserve any of this or that she disapproved of it in her life. She scorned those “working the system” while complaining of her own troubles with it, despite that she supports those that control it. Her victimization was a sort of self-infliction, but still she expected some external absolution.

Unlike previous experiences when exposed to someone of a different point of view, I felt angered by her instead of tolerant. I realize now that it was not her egregious righteousness but rather her blatant disregard for those people that live outside her peripheral. Those that were not born into opportunity are automatically written off as expendable. It upset me to hear such hypocrisy and egotistical entitlement as she moaned of her own grievances with no compassion for those also suffering.

All Gods of each religion decree that we should love thy neighbor, but are not those of impoverished, hindered nations and communities also owed that love God preached of?  If we are all Gods creatures then we are all essentially small derivatives of one great entity. Therefore we are all connected. The soul that makes up a native of New Orleans is filled with the same pain and hope that you or I feel everyday. Those that are born into freedoms, opulence, and education have no more value as a human being then those of poor, ravaged societies.  What a wonderful world it could be if we could truly understand the love we should have for one another and the value for all life. Imagine if we all lived our lives recognizing that we are all the same, our souls are of the same, and that despite our differences no matter what we are all just people.

*Name has been changed.

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In light of Victoria’s Secrets latest news I’d like to present to you a few points about the societal disaster that is their annual fashion show.[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=NZgt99q1_t8]

1. Runway to no where. Nothing that those half naked women pranced down in was wearable, let alone available for purchase. In spite of how many fashion naysayers react to runway fashion as though it’s inconceivable to be worn on the street, it often is; just only by the bold few. It is still physically attainable, either via the web or retail front. VS catalogue doesn’t (and won’t) offer ornament adorned panties or thigh high blue tube socks, let alone twelve feet angel wings. The whole point of a fashion show is to display the clothes and the designer’s vision, not just the flat abs of today’s supermodels.
2. Jennifer Love Hewitt is fat and according to this guy it’s a curable problem. Despite my HDTV, imperfections were scarce or even inexistent and amongst the plethora of butt shots there definately was not many attributes the average woman could relate too. The models were unbelievable beautiful but it almost seems a little stupid to have them all appear the same. Women can make huge changes in the name of beauty but we can’t increase limb length. The same long, bountiful cascade of curls, dewy makeup and angular features. Even the African American and Brazilian models have an Americanized version of beauty; slender, narrow, dainty, tanned. They were no true representations of other cultures version of sexy. No matter how good looking these women are it was a dull dance of the same chick in her underwear.
3. Heidi Klum, singer? I think Heidi is cute; sweet with her family and admirable for her entrepreneurial attempts and successes, but was it necessary for her to grab a mic and kiss her husband for what felt a little too long. She may be the most well known Angel but the whole charade felt a bit trite; an overcapitalization of her public image rather then a sincere demonstration of their partnership.
4. PINK stinks. I hope I wasn’t the only one who noticed that the college “real girl” they chose happened to be taller then Heidi in heels. Once on stage if it wasn’t for her shorter hair it would have been hard to differentiate her from the others cat walkers. This was a great opportunity to have another, more realistic female shape take center stage – giving the young target market another vision to look up too. Instead the executives seemed to choose the closest thing to Karolina they could get.
5. What is sexy? The ads often ask it, but apparently it’s unattainable to almost everyone. By these beauty standards, it pays to produce programs like this. They attract young women in stages when they’re already struggling to find their own self worth and further exasperate their obsession over cellulite. By keeping these women insecure companies like VS can sell more unnecessary products to impressionable girls straining to get themselves into this marketers portrayal of sexy and hot. The more difficult it is to obtain, the more one will strive for it, hoping the extra bra padding will make them more lovable, wanted, and approachable. All with out the knowledge that this is a mass manipulation clamoring for their dollars.

The show was an hour of over produced, albeit somewhat entertaining crap. Dubbed, dumb voiceovers called out scripted directorial, prearranged backstage shots, and predictable model interviews headlined nothing unique or innovative. The music was an interesting array (Were the Spice Girls this lame the first time around?) but despite the natural talent that Seal has, it was just disappointing to see him showcased surrounded by such mediocrity.

It was all so depressing it could make any secure woman put down her dessert.

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Since there has recently been news of a scientific link between materialism and self-esteem and it seems as though all of us are in some way affected by this overwhelming burden, I wanted to share some of my experience in obtaining freedom from things (it sure is a great place to be). My hope is that it will challenge you to look within yourself and see how materialism affects your own life, relationships and happiness.

Once out of college I was a part time employee searching for a good job, while living on my own in New York City. Needless to say the search did not go as planned and when I finally found a job I accepted its indecency despite my tribulations. By this time, I was already in thousands of dollars of credit card debt. I had bills to pay and in trying to maintain the miniscule lifestyle I had I’d quickly swiped more often then I could handle. I hadn’t realized how easily I created this and was in over my head. My new job left a lot to be desired and one of my bi-weekly paychecks barely paid my rent. I had always made comments about being “broke”, about “never having any money” (as it seems many young, urban twenty-somethings always do) but I had never experienced something like this, where a $6 manicure had to be chosen over fresh fruit, when cutting my hair was an expensive luxury and pasta a great necessity. It wasn’t about paying for the dinner out; it was about affording any dinner. Initially I took to this rather poorly. I bitched, I moaned, I cried and whined my way through the first few months. Much like the illicit drug it had become I went through withdrawal. When the consumerism itch wore off my perception changed and I started noticing the abundance I had in my life.

Given that I could no longer purchase new clothes I started to rake through the remnants of my previous life and found new adventurous ways to wear things. I had always wanted something new or better, but when I stopped searching I found just that crumbled in the back of my closet. Clearly, I had issues because as I could no longer identify with purchases and dinners out I couldn’t identify with much. The consumerist detox that correlated with my new entry-level lifestyle brought my self awareness to heights otherwise reached before. All the time I now spent with friends consisted of homebrewed coffee in my kitchen rather then nightclubs and trendy eateries. This was a valuable lesson because without the entertainment of externalities I learned how little I had in common with many of them. Real friends became apparent, those that were supportive and understanding accepted my new choices. Unfortunately, most were surprisingly judgmental and snobbish. Instead of focusing on the negative, I committed myself to paying off my credit cards. I used my irritation with the situation as a catalyst to succeed. I worked full time during the week and kept my Saturday mornings at a local gym where I not only got paid but also received a free membership. I started babysitting for a local family on the weekends, never saying no regardless of how I felt. Turning frugality into a challenging game gave me the initiative to seek out better and more insightful ways to budget. I’d clip coupons, read blogs, prepare all my food – anything that helped me to pay off my debt. Within seven months I’d paid off almost $4,000 in debt on a $30,000 a year salary while working and living in New York City. The joy I felt in achieving that goal was unlike any other I’d had.

I had always longed for things, stuff and other unnecessary crap but I never realized how all this wanting took away from how much I had. In my time of economic downturn I was given a wonderful lesson in gratitude, changing me forever. The genetic lottery of this world has allowed me great opportunities and I’m sometimes overcome by my previous insidiousness. I will never be poor again and I see now that have always been rich. Rich with loving relationships, self acceptance, abundant education and endless opportunity. Now I hold it all dear, close to my heart, blessed just to be free, loved and alive.

To free yourself from consumerism, do a Crap Detox.

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