A Reconsideration of Work

Recently, I've been reminded about some of the difficulties faced by first generation college and graduate students.

In a sure slip of the tongue I realized that at least one of my family members imagines that, as a (graduate) student, I have nothing to do since it's summer.

Like most of my family members this particular person has not been in school since high school, so it makes sense that this is what she imagines my life is. I mean, there's nothing a student loves more than summer and, hey, even as a graduate student I appreciate summer, just... not for the same reasons I did when I was in high school or even like I did as an undergraduate. But I'll get back to this later.

When I realized her misconceptions about my life, I might have been angry but in all honesty I was not surprised.

As an undergrad I understood fairly quickly that even though my family supported me as best they could (emotionally and in some cases financially), they really had no idea what my day-to-day life was like as a student.

On the one hand, some of my family members questioned why I wasn't in school 5 days a week. On the other hand they thought that because I had MWF or TTH classes it meant that I must have been slacking off on the other days.

But the most pervasive misconception, which has apparently persisted from undergrad until now (as I hopefully approach the completion of my PhD), is that I live a life of leisure.

Sure they are willing to concede that I read, maybe I turn in a paper or take an exam, but generally I don't do much of anything, especially when compared to their jobs (mostly 9 to 5) and their lives (at this point in my life most of my family members have children). And in the summer they think that of course I must hang out all the time because I don't have classes (and who really wants to take classes in the summer anyway).

There are obvious problems with this. I mean what do these people imagine I do to make money and pay my bills? If I happen to travel (which is highly suspect considering the financial life of a single graduate student), how do I pay for it?

Basically, I've realized that for many first generation students their family and friends who have not gone to college have a hard time understanding that education is work and (for graduate students) a job, even if it rarely provides the financial compensation of full time employment.

This can be frustrating if only because it means that our families do not understand us and, even if they want to be, they are not as sympathetic to our problems as we might hope.

What's most troubling about these assumptions aren't that they're untrue (because obviously...) but rather that people develop them with little to no input from the actual students.

If this family member of mine had asked me (or even my mother who I vent to on an almost daily basis) she would have known that this summer I did a number of things including (but not limited to) teaching a 10-week course in 5 weeks (probably one of the hardest things I've ever done), written and revised my first article for publication, completed some research, done considerable reading for my dissertation while completing two moves and mentally preparing myself to go on the job market. These are, clearly, the highlights.

My day-to-day life may not be full of an eight hour shift and of course I don't have to clock in or out or take my lunch at a particular time. My time is what I make it. But if I make nothing of my time, I have to bear the consequences. And only me.

To someone with a more structured day my freedom might seem appealing (and I completely understand why). The problem would be to assume that my lack of formal structure indicates a lack of responsibility or work.

First of all, teaching is difficult. If you respect teachers at all please do not assume that teaching is easy. Never presume that a teacher's day begins when her students walk in the classroom and ends when they leave/at the end of a school day. Time in class is often the easiest while the prep for that lecture is time consuming and draining. Grading sometimes seems to take forever. But this isn't the worst.

If you don't teach you may never appreciate the blow to your self-esteem/self-worth that can accompany a batch of bad papers or mediocre midterms/finals, because the automatic reaction is not to blame one's students (no matter how much we complain). We all, always, blame ourselves. When my students fail (even if it's just one) I wonder: did they get it? could I have made it easier to understand? what did I do wrong? Add student evaluations on top of that and... well, let's just say that graduate students don't drink/eat/shop/exercise to excess for nothing.*

Second of all, I would gladly trade writing my dissertation for watching one of my family members' children (at least for a little while- let's be real, I don't have kids for various reasons. One of them is choice). I do not want to diminish how hard it is to raise children (and I can't even begin to understand the experiences of my friends who had children while students) but... IT'S HARD WORK TO WRITE A DISSERTATION.

Sometimes I wake up at night thinking about the documents I still need to process, wondering where I will find the money to fund another research trip, fearing that one of my advisors will ask about a primary source document (or source base) that I cannot access or don't even know exists (not for lack of trying), or worrying if I'll have enough time to read all of the books I should.

And for me there's nothing harder than believing that I know exactly what I want to say (my argument for a chapter or why my project is different from anything else in the historiography) but not being able to fully express myself in words. Honestly, I've been close to tears of frustration when I get notes from an advisor or kind friend who has read my work and wondered: "but what's the point?"

To be real, until you have had to produce an entire dissertation of around 200 pages (more? less?) you have no right to tell me or someone else in this position that I don't work. (This is also why I would never presume to tell a UPS driver, welder, or chef that their jobs are less difficult than mine. Because I don't know.)

I freely admit that my life is very different from my family members. I have a serious netflix addition that would be hard to maintain with another sort of occupation. But I work. I wake up in the morning and I don't get ready to go the office. Instead I walk into my living room and there is my office, there is my work. That pile of books, files, stack of essays... that is my work. Those newspaprs I read all the time- that is also my work. And sometimes those movies I watch... that's work too.**

I've known a lot of grad students who have complained about working in their bedrooms/beds. In fact about a year and a half ago I had to stop myself from doing this because my high school insomnia had resurfaced and I was so fried it was scary. My mother has pointed out that the job that "you don't take home with you" is a myth and while she might be right, it is a little different to go to an office to work and living, more or less, in your office.

Summers are time for research. For graduate students summers are often the only time we can devote to our own work. My last two summers were an interesting display of how odd the life of a (graduate) student can be. And tame examples at that:

After I passed my exams last year I had 2 weeks of rest and then I was off to New York for research. Glamorous in theory, but in reality I slept on an air mattress in a friend's studio apt (conveniently located 2 blocks from my archive), because that was the only way to make the trip affordable. Then I went home and read while I processed some research. At the end of the summer I went to London for 2 weeks. Even more glamorous! Except I stayed in a dorm (don't even get me started) and it was... a dorm. It had its ups and downs and while a wonderful research trip, I was dismayed that I'd somehow managed to spend two weeks in a city I loved without actually loving it. :/

This summer I taught, packed, read, wrote and moved. I'm not kidding. The only real break I've had from my life as an academic were.... these past 2 weeks or so wherein I moved back to California (which included transporting 2 beloved cats), revised that same article I told you about earlier, read, written an abstract for an essay and... well prepared for the job market. Another phase of the process, but maybe one that my skeptical family will understand. But, more importantly this is some but not all of the things I've done this summer because I can't even begin to explain to you the time I've spent thinking. 

And this is where I want to end.

It's so easy to dismiss the process of thinking, to suggest that thinking is not work. bell hooks has spoken of this throughout much of her work, more eloquently than I ever could. But I just want to say that even though so much of my time is spent thinking through my dissertation- THAT THINKING IS STILL WORK. And, frustratingly, it is often work that I feel I have failed at because I have a very hard time translating that thought into the written word.

So please, do not belittle the energy that students put into their education. Just because you may not understand the process or the goal does not mean that it's not work.

This goes both ways. The family member who sparked this comment is a hard worker. I respect her job (at work and at home) and realize that I would have a hard time doing the same. I wish that she would give me the same respect.

But this must also go both ways. I don't owe her any kind of understanding that she is unwilling to give me. Nor should I prostrate myself because I went to college and graduate school.

Just as I don't feel inadequate because I am single and without children, I will not be made to feel indigent because I don't turn in a time sheet at the end of the day or week.

My job is difficult. Sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I love it.

But it deserves respect. As do I.

*I dont want to say that all graduate students do these things to excess, what I'm really saying is activities like these can be used to de-stress from our work. 


** While this is absolutely true for people who study things like popular culture or cultural criticism, I also just mean that some people (like myself) spend a lot of time analyzing a variety of texts, including movies/tv shows/novels/music which may not seem like but may be intimately involved in our dissertations or teaching. 

Resting

I've been thinking recently about things that I do for other people; to put their mind at ease. Or rather, things that other people expect me to do.

When I teach I often nod when my students express themselves, rather than stare at them blandly the way I stare at everyone. My awesomely expressive face (yall know) does not do mild interest. (In fact my best expressions must be severe annoyance or disbelief.) When I realized recently that I was nodding at a student but had ABSOLUTELY no idea what he/she were saying (and was sure they hadn't done the reading) I thought of something The Witzig told me as an undergrad. Something about how female undergrads nod a lot in class. Or something (it's been a lot of years since then).

I didn't used to be this person. Ask anyone who went to college with me. I used to stare off into space if someone said something uninteresting, glare if their comment was annoying or stupid, and make eye contact, sometimes smiling, if I thought they were contributing something valuable. But nod, just to make someone feel secure? That I did not do.

So why now? Honestly I don't know, but I imagine that at least part of it has to do with the changes one makes while in a mildly hostile environment.

As I'm getting ready to (possibly) leave my graduate program to head home and continue writing my dissertation I've found myself explaining to my friends in Ohio (all 2 of you!) why I'm leaving. And while there are practical reasons, the only one that matters is that I feel I have a support system at home. And not necessarily my family (although my mom's awesome) but more my mentors who helped me get through SMC. The people who stoked an enthusiasm and passion in me that I can barely remember. The implication is clear: I do not have those things here. At least not in the same ways.

But does this have anything to do with the nodding?

Honestly I'm not sure. I've felt uneasy for most of my time in this program. And intellectually under siege. As in, I've felt that the simple fact that I am an intellectual is, for many people that I've encountered here, under serious consideration.

So maybe I nod because it's easier. Because if I make people feel as if I understand what they're saying maybe they won't notice when I tell them that what they're saying is nonsensical or utter shit. Or maybe if I reassure people that they're saying something I agree with they'll reconsider the other things I have to say. Or maybe (and this is most likely) maybe I stopped giving a shit about this pursuit. This isn't a journey I want to be on anymore. I'm not sure I want to be a historian, b/c for the most part (but not entirely) the historians I've met here depress me and make me really wish I'd picked another discipline. And so I nod because if I'm lucky I'll get a job in a school where people don't say "cultural history" as if it's a disease, my colleagues don't marginalize people who look like me because they assume we haven't contributed anything to history, people don't expect me to agree with them as an indication of my intellect, and the rhetoric of collegiality is so much more than rhetoric.

So the nodding is a symptom, clearly not the disease. And it's not the only symptom. I wonder how many times I've said "I'm fine" "no problem" "everything's cool" "I know" "that's what I thought" "yea, I totally get it" "no, that's not trifling" "hi" recently. Some of these things I say to make people feel better. Some of these things I say because I don't want anyone to worry. Some of these things I say because they're expected. And some of these things I say because it's automatic. And these days I prefer autopilot as much as possible. 

a bit personal

subtitle: random thoughts on privilege and the trivialization of drug addiction

Last quarter I sat in a class that consistently frustrated the holy living hell out of me. Every day was a test of my ability to NOT go off on someone. But there was one day in particular that threatened to send me over the edge.

On this day we were sitting around the table and some people were chatting about whatever before class started. Somehow a few of the women started talking about rehab and the show Intervention. God only knows why or how, but one woman said something to the effect of "I don't know why I have to work when those people on that show get to go to a spa for a few weeks."

As far as I can tell she 1) was dead serious and 2) thought her comment was funny.

The first time she said it I thought I must have heard her wrong. The second time she said it, I was pissed. And the third time she damn near yelled it I was incensed because not one person said anything to contradict or correct her.

At this point, I said "When did we decide that rehab was a spa?" Granted I uttered this in a controlled voice (to keep from blasting her ass) and I wasn't involved in the original exchange so I didn't necessarily want to butt in (because I hate when people do that to me), so it wasn't that surprising that my comment went unheard or ignored. Very shortly after this the class started and the real conversation commenced and everyone moved on.

Well, everyone except me.

Since I hated this class, and couldn't stand this woman in particular, I assumed that my ire was solely because of that. But a couple weeks later a FB friend, who I definitely don't dislike but am not super close to, said that watching Intervention makes her feel thankful for what she has in her life. Even though I said something similar (but bitchier) a few years ago, I was really pissed when I read this status. And I couldn't figure out why.

Now I've realized that I was angry at my friend for seemingly echoing the same kind of pretentious holier-than-thou judgement as the woman in my class. In hindsight I realize that that is not (thankfully) what she was trying to do. Rather, I think she was saying that ANYONE could succumb to drug addiction and we who have not (or are recovered) should be thankful that we don't have to live such lonely and painful lives as those addicted to drugs. This I agree with.

But to be honest with you I'm still fuming about the other woman's comments, months later. And this is why.

One of the things that my closest friends and I commiserate with one another about is how we feel so very different from other people that we've encountered in higher education. This is especially true for my best friend and I who grew up in severely dysfunctional families (and thus think that the dysfunction is normal), have experienced repeated forms of physical, emotional and/or sexual abuse, and learned fairly early that you cannot trust people (not even those closest to you).

How does this relate to drugs?

Like this:

That woman in my class was an idiot. Either she's never seen a loved one succumb to an addiction or she has but learned nothing from it.

I have had three people close to me descend into drug addiction. For the first person, I was too young to understand what they was going through so all I learned was that I never wanted to let drugs or alcohol take over my life like that. The second person I still struggle with. Whoever they could have been is long gone and what I have in front of me is a very pale shadow of who that person once was to me. The third person broke my heart. They've overcome some of their demons but I know they struggle everyday with the underlying causes of addiction. Watching this person fall and then find a way to the other side is one of the reasons why that woman in that class angered me so.

It's damn easy to say that drug addicts and alcoholics are just bad or pathetic people who have no impulse control. It's also such an incomplete story as to be useless.

To acknowledge the kind of damage that leads some people to drugs or alcohol or self-mutilation (or any number of vices) does not absolve them of responsibility for their actions. It does, however, help to explain why rehabilitation, when taken seriously, can be so important. It's clear that the drugs are only part of the problem.

So to this woman I'd like to say what I wish I'd said in class:

"Rehab isn't a damn day spa. For some people it's a barrier between life and death. And for other people it can be the only hope that one day they will get their loved one back. It is also hard as hell. Something that's even harder than rehab: STAYING SOBER. You're ignorance is offensive. And I'd prefer it if you only spoke on subjects where you know what the hell you're talking about. And having sat in that class with you I'm pretty sure that aint much."

...Sorry, but it wouldn't be me without the snark! *shrug*

a note on used books

To the douche who owned my book before me:

It is not "Bell Hooks" and you have no idea how much I wish you hadn't written over "bell hooks" simply because you're dumb.

Also, "yuck!" is not an adequate note in the margins.

Sincerely,

A lover of used books that haven't been mangled by undergrads.

...and not a Black girl in sight... tv review

This morning I was up early, as usual, trying to be productive. I turned it to HBO On Demand (also known as my fall back tv experience) to check out a new show, How to Make It in America.

How to Make It in America is an HBO original dramedy following two young New Yorkers, Ben Epstein (Bryan Greenberg) and Cam Calderon (Victor Rasuk) who are attempting to hustle their way onto the fashion scene.

There are some interesting things happening on this show.

1. Considering the fact that I JUST had a conversation with Michelle about all of these shows with racially homogenous (read: all white) casts, I will say that How to Make It... is actually  fairly diverse. Well, they have a fairly diverse cast in the way that most shows trying to avoid charges of being racist do:

Protagonist: White
Protagonist's Sidekick: Brown
Protagonist's love interests: White (w/occasional women of color here and there)
Peripheral (nameless) casts: rainbow

So really, it's diverse... but it aint.

2. I think it's interesting to consider male characters interested in fashion. Doesn't happen often. I'm intrigued.

3. Bryan Greenberg... Whatever, I love that dude. I sat through 2 awkward, albeit mildly intriguing, seasons of October Road and was sad when his character peaced out on One Tree Hill. Plus he's pretty!

What aint working (and the subject of my title)....

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SET A SHOW IN NEW YORK AND NOT HAVE EVEN JUST ONE FLY ASS FASHIONISTA BLACK GIRL W/ GUSH-WORTHY NATURAL HAIR?

I mean really...

You can't tell me they don't exist because this blog was started by a Black fashionista for other Brown fashionistas: The Fashion Bomb

So I like this show... or at least I wanna like this show but this just brought up all these issues about how Black women are far too often completely excised from popular culture. And if they are there you know who's not... Black men? This is really the same for all people of color. If there are brown men... then there's no brown women, no matter how big or small the part.

Really, this is my critique. This is ALWAYS my critique. And you can always count on me to make it.

I watch a lot of tv (it is what it is) and it's hard not to see the trend. Don't believe me? Check out some of these shows when you've got the time:

Dollhouse (canceled, but you can get that ish on Netflix)
House
CSI (all of them)
Gossip Girl
The Big Bang Theory
The Deep End
Southland
Leverage
The Closer
Secret Diary of a Call Girl
Mercy
the forgotten
Psych

or what about these shows that have no brown folk at all:

How I Met Your Mother
One Tree Hill
Desperate Housewives
Big Love
Caprica
Burn Notice
Life Unexpected
United States of Tara
Nurse Jackie (they got rid of Mo-Mo apparently....d-bags)
Smallville

and to be fair... these shows are the exception:

Grey's Anatomy
Private Practice
The Wire (but it's over and I'm still sad)
NUMB3RS
Cold Case

But at the end of the day (or really the beginning of the day in the case), the pilot episode wasn't great, the second epi was interesting enough and I'm willing to add it to my tv-watching agenda.

But I'll always be salty as hell until there's a Black girl on the scene. And hopefully one who looks something like THIS.

Something New... again.

I was just going to ignore this video because... ugh, I am not in the mood for yet another rant about Black women not being able to find a partner. Not only have I heard it all before (and agree with a good portion of it), but, since no one is offering any useful solutions to the problem, my patience has worn beyond thin. Also, when I heard that Steve Harvey was acting as "expert" in this clip... hell nah!

Unfortunately, since I spend way too much time on the internet, I've been coming across this video at every turn. And that is annoying. So to hopefully exorcise this demon let me share my thoughts...

But first, the clip:



Ok, first, and most inconsequentially, how weird were those Black figure things to represent all Black men? Awkward. :-/

But seriously, there was so little new in this clip that I could have written this post without it. Or maybe I already wrote it when Something New came out and everybody and they mama had the conversation about the 42.4% (Did the statistics change? Is it now an even 42%? SUCCESS!). Whatever.

So seriously, what the fuck is going on here? Oh yea... the same thing that's been going on for the past decade or so:

A lot of Black women have never been married (and may never get married).
There aren't enough good Black men.
You could try a white man, but you'd obviously prefer a Black man.
I'm successful and fine, I just don't get it.
blahblahblah

It's the same story that every Black woman I know, including myself, has at one time or other recited with varying levels of annoyance/anger/heartache.

But what all of the stories on this topic lack are solutions. Tell me something I can use or keep it moving.

So maybe I should be happy because the piece above tried to offer some... I just thought they were dumb. Let me explain:

"Black women don't have to settle, but they may need to compromise."

I've heard this a number of times, but I was possibly most irritated here because Steve Harvey couldn't offer anything more than petty examples of Black women's standards being too high; money, education. These have been the big two in the attempt to explain the numbers of highly educated Black single women. But I'm starting to believe that they're possibly the least important. For instance, children. How many relationships have broken up because the two people had different ideas about children (when to have kids, how many, being financially able to support them, children from previous relationships)? It seems that finding a partner who had the same ideas about family would be slightly more important than his level of education. Or what about geography. If your high-powered job is on the East Coast and his is in the South, will you commute? Can you afford to commute? Is that the kind of life you want to live? Again, when and how should Black women compromise on these issues Mr. Harvey?

"Go for the older man."

That's the best advice you have Steve Harvey?... MASSIVE FAIL! What.The.Fuck? No seriously, how does this operate as a solution? Let's go back to the question of children. I'm 26 and if I decide to have biological children with a man I want someone who will be a partner. I don't want a man who will be so old (no offense, seriously) that he can't play with us at the park, can't take turns getting up at all hours of the night to feed/change/rock a crying baby etc. And this I am not willing to compromise on, because if I have a child with someone too old to really be a parent the same way that I would want to, why have children with someone else at all if I'd essentially be a single parent? That makes no sense. So, no Steve, that is not a real solution.

"It's not that they can't find someone to date, the issue is exclusivity."

This, I think, was the most interesting discussion of the whole piece (7 mins... really!?). It's interesting to think that there are women out there who are doing "all of the right things": dating, making themselves available, "keeping themselves up" (whatever the fuck that means) but they still can't get a ring. The women in the video talked about the "backpocket woman" (the one men save for later when they're ready to stop whoring around). This is so beyond trifling it hurts. And how annoying would that be if a man had the nerve to call you every few years just to make sure "you're still single... waiting for me." GAG!

With that sad I'm beginning to wonder (this is obvious sarcasm) that maybe people should start doing stories on (Black) men who don't want to settle down (with Black women). Seriously. Maybe it's time we stopped blaming Black women for being single and start really, critically, thinking about what leads to those circumstances.

"I would love to be in a relationship, a marriage... but I don't feel that that defines me."

And maybe, just maybe, we should stop equating women's happiness (regardless of race) with the presence of a man in their lives. Maybe, just maybe, there are a boatload of women who are just happy single and will be just fine if they never get married. And maybe, just maybe, there are lots of women who never want to get married at all. In that case, maybe we should stop fucking up those women's days by making them another kind of stereotypical statistic.

Stop... think about it.

*P.S.- Check out The Black Snob's discussion of the same clip here. 
*P.S.S.- I really am still thinking about a post on interracial relationships, but I've been swamped. C'est la vie...

...a Black girl with no ass?!... *update

So I'll admit it ::shamefaced:: I'm a black girl with no ass.

Like none... Hips (yea). Breasts (yessir). Ass (not so much).

It's a sore spot. I've considered talking with someone about it... you know... professionally. But I'm poor. And that trumps vanity in my book.

But why am I telling you all this? Well, because I've recently found out that ::gasp:: I'm on the normal side of this phenomenon (the aforementioned Black girl with no ass-itis). It could be SO much worse.

Consider

Yea, that woman said, "I don't like Black women" and "Williams is a little too Black." This is some straight up pathological shit right here. But where is it coming from?

I tend to get angry when people speak about Black self-hate as if it's the answer to a question, rather than the starting point for a million other ones.

For instance:

•  How was this woman raised? I always want to know this because personally I could never see myself saying that I don't like Black women because (well besides the fact that I am one) my mom is the shit. And while I don't love every Black woman I know, abstractly I do love all Black women. But, more importantly, I practically LOVE lots of individual Black women. The majority of the people who love me and support me are Black women and to even think of saying that I hate Black women would instantly bring these women's faces to mind and I'd feel so ashamed I wouldn't know what to do with myself. (This is also coincidentally one of the core reasons for my feminism. Women of all races have been my backbone and all of my strongest relationships are with women. It's such an important part of who I am.) The same goes for Black men. While I have much fewer instances of Black men who have been good to me in my life, the ones that have have been the most amazing, starting with my grandfather. My father is a sad excuse for a man, but my grandfather showed me what it could mean to be a good Black man. And for that reason along (though I do have many others) I have always felt a distinct love for Black men. So I wonder, what kind of life did this woman, and others like her, have that she can not make these associations? 
• Who are the people around her? I find it really strange that the woman actually has Black friends. I mean, how do you talk to someone who says "I don't like people like you, but you're cool so.."? I mean, really. Maybe I should ask some of my white friends this.... hahaha I kid I kid (sorta). No seriously, how do you have a friend like that? How do you call that person your friend? It's just... odd.
• Why does she feel that it's ok to say crazy shit like this? I think, for me, this is the most disturbing part of people who hate people of their own race/gender/sexuality. It's not that they don't like them, it's that they always abuse their "insider" position to spout hate. It's as if they feel like even though they've been alienated from other Black people (in this instance) somehow they have the inside scoop on them. Really? I always want to ask them if they don't see their alienation as maybe, maybe, a sign that they're not so cued in on Black folk. ::sigh:: It's probably no use, very few of these folk are the smartest tools in the toolbox. Or even the most useful tool. But then other people latch on to that. It's infuriating...

At the same time, there's something else going on here that isn't about hating Black folk. It's about hating yourself because you don't fit a stereotyped image of what it means to be Black. We all know this from such classically preposterous statements as "You sound white" and "You dress like a white boy" and on and on and on. But it's also at work in other ways and I think the pressure that we as a society, and community, put on Black women to look/act/dress/live a certain way is another example.

I mean seriously, who doesn't know the stereotype that Black women have big asses? What does that mean then for the Black women who don't? And how the hell do we explain, mediatakeout.com often wonders, white, Asian or Latin women with big asses. I mean that's MINDBOGGLING! Or it's racist. Whatever.

That's why in the clips above we don't just see the the Black woman (who presumably does NOT hate Black women) getting a butt job (ew), we also see Ms. Onassis/Williams ::eye roll:: getting one as well. Obviously, she can say whatever she wants about not being Black ::big ass eye roll::, but she's clearly dealing with where she fits into the realm of Blackness herself. And while I think she's an idiot (who talks funny!), on that point (and that one point) I get where she's coming from.

Because every time I look at my sad (flat) sack of an ass I have to shake myself mentally and remember that who I am, my Blackness, my awesomeness does not reside in the seat of my jeans... does not reside in the seat of my jeans!

Unfortunately I don't always believe myself...