Ramadan for Single Muslims

Well, someone out there is thinking about me. And everyone like me.

I found this site while blurfing (blog surfing) today. Ramdan for Single Muslims from Sound Vision does have some good suggestions.

AlhamdulIllah, I went to jum'ah yesterday, and it was good. I saw a lot of people I hadn't seen in 2 years. I also asked around about local masajid that are easier to get to than GWU's makeshift spot, but... little luck. I'll just have to be adventurous. Insha'Allah I'll find a place to go to before Ramadan that isn't too far away. I'd like that. I need to be 'adopted' by a Muslim community. It felt sooo good just to go and pray shoulder to shoulder there. I came out uplifted, alhamdulilah.

The Seven-Day Shukr project is going well... it is helping me with my humility project as well. Right now, I can't stop thinking about the people on the Gulf Coast. So I ask for special blessings, patience, endurance for them, and that they are cared for until they can do so themselves.

I'm feeling funny. Think I'll go for a walk.

peace
TwennyTwo

Female Imam Survey Results are Up

Salaams~
Was just messing around and googled my name; thus I came upon the Azizah Female Imam Survey Results. I was pleasantly surprised, masha'Allah, to see that what I wrote was actually coherent. And though I disagree with a lot of what was said, I enjoyed reading other coherent opinions (for, against, both, and didn't have a clue included).

Check it out.

peace
TwennyTwo

Seven days

Seven Day Shukr Challenge

For those who don't know, shukr means 'thanks' or 'thankfulness' in Arabic. (This based on the little Arabic I learned from Doktr Taj in 101 back in college- and the fact that 'thank you' is "Shukran!")

SO. Since I whined and complained earlier about getting advice that didn't help me... and since I knew I was lucky to be getting it... I am in the challenge. UmmAli over at aheavytruth dot blogspot, started it, so alhamdulillah for that initiative.

Yes, I am not going to complain about ANYTHING in my life for seven whole days. In my head or verbally.

In my own little version of this... I'm going to focus on humility in my thankfulness. Meaning I'm just going to play the role of a witness to the greatness of God that has touched my life, and not act like I'm in the starring role of receiving blessings, something that comes a little too naturally for me lately.

Care to join us in the challenge?

peace
TwennyTwo

ps Aleksa, thanks for the tips...

In honor of working today

AlHamdulIllah~ I worked a full day today!

The job isn't full time but it pays well. I got a temp to perm position teaching English to adults. I LOVE the class I'm working with- only 2 students, but with such awesome dispositions. They like working and want to learn. What a joy!

I just found out that I won't be working tomorrow, but the ladies had asked me to bring them some riddles. In honor of their request, I'll post one heck of a tongue twister that I found on an English forum here:

The pheasant-plucker

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's child;

I sit here plucking pheasants, though it drives the pheasants wild:

I pluck and chuck the feathers from the pheasants in a pile;

the pheasants, plucked, are chucked out in true pheasant-pluckers' style.



Oh a pukka pheasant plucker is a pleasing thing to see;

a pleasant peasant pheasant plucker I am proud to be.



The pheasants, plucked and chucked, are tucked up in a tidy heap;

the pheasants' feathers, plucked and chucked, are sucked up four feet deep;

the plucking job ain't easy, it's an awful plucking task -

still, I get a plucking bonus, what more could any plucker ask?



A pukka pheasant plucker is a plucky peasant chap

a pleasant peasant pheasant plucker fills a needed gap

To find a pleasant peasant who plucks pheasants on the side

just advertise for peasant pheasant pluckers far and wide



Pukks plucky peasant pheasant-plucking people we;

plucking pheasants present in out pleasant company

pheasants plucked professionally by our pleasant peasant crew;

our pukka plucky pheasant-plucking folk will pluck for you



Oh a pukka pheasant plucker is a pleasing thing to see;

a pleasant peasant pheasant plucker I am proud to be.

Have fun with that.

Sha'ban is waning... Ramadan is almost here. For those few of you who read me and are Muslim... how do you get ready?
I have, really no firm customs except to read Qur'an and find out where the masajid in the area are, since I've spent every Ramadan for the past three years in a different place. This year, though, I want to do a bit more... Any ideas?

Peace
TwennyTwo

Making decisions.

Today, by email, I turned down a position in Boston.

A nice one, though temporary- I'd be paid $750 per week for a little more than 2 weeks of work. Guiding kids and going to conferences. With the potential to stay on if I dazzle.

I had already been interviewed.

The recruiters had already called my references.

They were suitably impressed, and called Friday to offer me the job, pending my passing a background check (no problem).

I accepted. I was uneasy but had no concrete reason not to accept.

Then I had... 'discussions' with my mother and aunt, during which I put the situation out there. I felt like I needed help with making the decision. Because the job is 1)temporary and 2) In Boston, I had some issues. Do I take the well-paying but temporary position, and then keep on in part-time jobs afterward? Or take the two part-time positions I already have lined up and forego the opportunity, until I can find a part time job, and be squeezed to pay my bills? I don't have the money to go to Boston, too- or I do, but BARELY. I'm tired of having to ask for money. The thing is, once I get up there, I'm good. It's a marginality thing.

Then, too, was the part of the discussions about my taking the test requred to be a public school teacher which is paid with benefits, and then grind myself into being a teacher for another year. I think I said before that my great-aunt is paying for the test. Which costs way to flippin' much- I'm BROKE. I don't HAVE money to get transcripts from various schools sent, AND pay for testing and still pay my BILLS plus the actual not-insignificant TRANSPORTATION it costs just to go here and there on interviews both in and out of the public school system.
Anyway, since my great-aunt, aunt, and mother- hell, everyone- wants me to take the test, AND because I do have teaching experience, I figure, what the hey. Just do it, and pray and pray I actually get a job and then don't have to wait for-flippin-ever to be paid a mediocre to poor salary. I'm doing this for the benefits anyway. The emphasis I'm hearing is on health insurance- I don't have any of that right now, so if I get hit by a truck tomorrow I'll be in real deep.

All that isn't what's bugging me so much as that I feel really squeezed by decisions right now. I don't care to ask others for their opinion, but I do have trouble making decisions. It's hard to hear what they say and their opinions on how hard I'm working to get a job (I'm not being aggressive enough on the public school front, for instance- they have NO IDEA how crazy the system is after No Child Left Behind has begun to persecute teachers) when that doesn't HELP ME. I am NOT lazy. I AM broke. There's a difference, something a lot of people apparently don't get. My lack of resources is severely limiting my choices and the time I have to make them. I'm seeing so many parallel situations to my life on a national level right now. Tis ridiculous.

*sigh*. I'm mad at myself for even bringing it up and giving folk the opportunity to come at me like that. I'm just upset. Two days later. And hoping that I made the right decision. Since I've decided that I can't be asking anyone else what to do or how to do it anymore. I've been lucky enough to be able to do so thus far, but it's becoming a big PITA. I'm just not going to ask. If the consequences are rough, then too bad. At least I made the decision myself. It's much easier to live with negative consequences of a decision I made on my own as an adult than to hear negative opinions and options from others because I felt I couldn't make a decision on my own. Ha. There. I feel better now.

ma Salaama
TwennyTwo

Oreo Issues

My aunt, at one time, had four whole packs of Oreo cookies in her house.

Four. Whole. Packs. of Oreos.

I love Oreos, but hadn't had them in quantity in a while since in PR they go stale like as soon as you open the bag. Eat three, and then the rest go all soft and mushy in an hour. I kid you not. They were so expensive on top of that that I never bought them again after the second pack that was ruined. (I know. Slow learning there.)

So now, I'm at my aunt's house. The woman has specifically forbidden me to ask her before I eat anything, the rule that I was brought up with in part to keep anything in the house- like whole packs of delishiousss chocolate cream coooookieeees- from disappearing under the weight of ginormous sweet teeth.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

That's ok. Ramadan is coming. Ramadan is coming. I can surpress my nafs! I can do it!

Validation part II

I started this post in reply to Umm Zaid's comments in the Validation post below. ~TwennyTwo

Too often it's a guilt game, as well as an either/or game here in this country, and that's bothersome in and of itself. Now, most people who come out with the "Don't see your race" comment are either responding defensively when accused of racism or trying to justify a move made in some part based on race. When I'm not straight reacting to the comment in the moment, I can admit that a very few people mean, as you put it, "I can get past the fact that you are not part of the dominant racial paradigm". Most were not raised in a diverse environment, actually. Hmm. And the rest were raised in Europe (Scandinavia and the UK, in case someone was wondering).

But in examining my own reaction, I know that its as you said, erasing or ignoring something that's a very big part of me. So I sense dishonesty in that comment. My otherness shapes so much of perception about me that it is just ridiculous to claim its ignored when the very opposite is true... on a subconscious level. It's more truthful to say you see it and accept it as it is. Which all of my friends, Black and otherwise, have done, or I couldn't call them friends at all.

The craziness of race- ok, COLOR- and acknowledging, or not, the way everyone in this country acts upon it, comes from the US heritage, because in this country your race DOES mean something. For a long long time it meant your station in life, the possibilities, who you associated with, when and how and where you were educated... color told EVERYTHING about the outward status in your life.
I will belie my southern roots by saying it still does, in fact- that's why all the brouhaha over the racial disparities in the areas hit by Hurricane Katrina. Even when we don't want to acknowledge it, color is in the back of our minds, and we act on it, and notice it, and any American who denies this is, imho, lying.

But it's okay to want more. To fight and see color as JUST color- can you imagine what a life that would be? As a Black woman, I know I would be a different person. That's a sad, poignant part of reality that we should all fight to change so our daughters can BE that person.

peace
TwennyTwo.

Submitted to the Radical Women of Color Carnival : RadicalWoC2

Submitted to the Radical Women of Color Carnival : RadicalWoC2

Validation- I want you to want me

Debra J. Dickerson has an article on Salon- June 30th, titled "I want you to want me" that has me thinking she's speaking from my (would-be-way-unfortunate) future as well as the present. I normally don't copy other folks' words into my blog. But just in case "this link" doesn't work... here's a coupla things that struck me.

For reference, she starts with her take on the movie "Wedding Crashers", which came out this past summer.

" ...The crashers seduced their way through every culture and every ethnicity but mine. Why don't Owen and Vince want to seduce me, too?

...Please don't misunderstand. I hate those Negroes who would bean count for black faces in Antarctica so they can get airtime whining about "the lack of diversity" blah blah. Start a school! Take in some foster kids! Run for office!...

...I'm talking about something that grieves black women, that breaks our hearts so much I have never had a conversation with another black woman about it....Our hearts are broken because we are unloved. More than that: Black women are unlovable, or so the world tells us every day. Most often, it's a sucker punch.

...I was usually the only woman and only black around. I'd say nothing as my office mates, the men I partied with and who backed me to the hilt professionally, would grouse about the lack of women. I was smarter and better-looking than they were....When I finally married at 40, it was to the first man who'd asked me out in five years. I had been holding out for a brother but, realizing that was even less likely to happen, finally let that go.

...I'm 46 now and far less full of bullshit. I'm not angry. I'm hurt. It's not that I want white men to want me. I want all men to want me. I want to be seen as desirable, if I actually am. As available, if I actually am. As fuckable, though you should be so lucky. But, because I'm black, I'm somehow seen as a gender crasher, an imposter fronting as a real woman. Liable to get the sexual bum's rush at any moment. No wonder so many of us are bitches. It protects us from rejection if we make it impossible to get anywhere near us in the first place.

A basically sweet, silly movie has me, late in life, reconsidering my impatience with nitnoy black separatism -- black dorms, Miss Black America pageants, "The Wiz." I still believe that true separatism is not a viable option for a group comprising only 13 percent of the population, but perhaps a psychological one may well be required to maintain our mental health. "

She isn't lying.

Dickerson put her finger on something I've observed for a while since beginning my life in Black womanhood. As a Black woman in the USA, my sexuality is either hypersensualized, or ignored. Either/or. And, when searching for a way around the hurt that entails, my options were, either cut back my options to black men, (even though black men, IMHO, do NOT feel that kind of pressure, by the way) and forget about those who are 'other', or act in ways that would subtly negate the effect of my race and ethnicity on men's perception of me as a woman. Thereby denying myself one crucial part of my way of being in order to (maybe) satisfy another.

This just isn't a satisfactory way to live. And why I said so many times as a teenager that I was moving OUT of the US when I got grown. Until Dickerson articulated it the way she did it didn't occur to me that not only is this phenomenon REAL but it AFFECTS me and the way I think, and so often, the way I act. Just as my actions can't be separated from the context- the
reason why I perform them, the way I move in the world can't be separated from context either- which is the state of my being in the world.

I don't think I ever will accept anyone saying that 'they don't see my race' if they were raised in the United States, because I know that's baloney. By virtue of the fact that I was born in this country, Black and female, My entire life is a kaleidoscope of reasons why that is not and cannot be so.

Now that I know the issue, though, I see its scope. How on EARTH can I help my country move toward a place where my daughters can breathe free, without ever feeling a need to be included, based on their automatic exclusion? Dr. King gave his famous speech wishing his children could do the same, and yet, almost fifty years later, the key parts of the dream haven't even been addressed!

I felt philosophical. Holla if ya hear me.

peace
TwennyTwo

Submitted to the Radical Women of Color Carnival : RadicalWoC2

Think about it! *Fixed link

Was it race, or class?

Check out the link above. (In case it still doesn't work, the article is at www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/archives/2005/09/a_problem_peopl.html.
I was surfing, hit UmmZaid's post, and as usual clicked on the article about being poor. Which then hit me hard. But it was the post at the link above that had me thinking the most.

I need a second to digest. I've been poor (ah, yes, many many things from the list are memories, y'know) and I will always be Black, you see, and so emotions are tied to the two in a way that keeps me from being coherent. But I'll be back.

Too Short for 'What If?'

Dan's Blog

Yeah, Dan the Man, you get a feature on the blog. Feel special.

And this quote is absolutely beautiful, so I stole it. Thank you.

" Life is too short to waste on __If only I . . .__statements. The only way you can figure out who you really are is through the adventures of life and the people you meet. If you silence your passions, you could miss out on a great discovery. There are no mistakes in these decisions. Your life is what you make of it and from these experiences you learn who you really are."” —Claudia, a 20-something post-grad from St. Lawrence College

Those who know me really well know I'm toying with making a really hard decision. Indecisiveness and nerves are causing the 'verborrhea' here and in the blog below. Just so you know.

Now that I've admitted this to myself...no more what if! I must do or not do but not shillyshally about!

peace and love and love and love and peace and calm and yeah, you get the gist.

me.

I don't want to be a grownup sometimes. This is immature, I know. But still.

Mama told me that the twenties aren't easy. I'm starting to think... is ANY age easy? At least I'm still alive. Praise God.

All this comes about b/c I'm at a turning point again. My great aunt said she'd pay for my Praxis, a PITA* test that I have to take to be certified as a teacher in DC. I know that DC has teacher vacancies, because it's the only district that sent me a nice fat letter telling me the fitty-bazillion inane and pointless little steps I have to (voluntarily) go through in order to be a teacher. I want to do this why? What's that? Money and self support and benefits to kids? Oh, ok. I guess that's worth all this PITA*. Oh, yeah, and my family wants me to be able to support myself, which is why I'm letting them push me in this direction s'darn hard.


My mother also said that I'm really...intense nowadays. This is true. She said it b/c I was crying when I talked on the phone to her. I'm noticing this more and more- I don't yell anymore. (This is an improvement. Trust.) I don't scream, I don't whine, I don't throw things. But I cry more than any grownup should. IMO. Which goes back to that first statement.
When I pointed that I'm getting better in the anger/frustration management department,she replied with:

"You know what'll fix that?"
Twenny: "What? Sleep?"
Mama: " Sex."
Twenny: "Pssht. Yeah, right. (pause, thinking on my non-prospects) Not having any of that. Thanks, Mommy."
Mama: "It would. It did it for me. Why you think I was married at 23? You get some sex and you won't be nearly as intense."


Daamn. Now my own MOTHER is rubbing my chastity and um, lack of sexual activity in my face. This is a sad, strange day, y'all. I feel pathetic for real.

I had two job interviews today, and in the interest of getting a job... I took the extreme step of removing my hijab. Of course both employers were suitably enthused about my prospects. They loved me, y'all. That was one for uncertainty- to get such a reaction... but I know it couldn't have just been the hijab. One even went so far as to tell me that I'll start Friday- or as soon as his boss can talk to me. Great.
Then I got on the subway and of course, saw a sister wearing a beautiful blue amira hijab and my heart went "MIIIIINNNNNEEEE!" I felt SO uncomfortable being in the professional world uncovered for the first time in 3 years. Man. I saw a couple of sisters on the street (cause for excitement itself: we ain't in portareeco no more, toto!) and said "Assalamu Alaikum", and they replied quite nicely after giving me the, "Are you for real?" look. I needed hijab! Instant recognition! Instant salaams!

Know what? I don't like not wearing hijab. If I get a job I'm putting it back on, so then if they want to fire me it'll be plain discrimination. How they like 'dem apples. It's on my portareecan ID anyways. I know I'll be fighting with my entire family once I break down and apply for a mainland license (haven't decided which state yet. I have so many options: OH, where the parents live, VA, where my aunt lives, DC, where I want to get an apt, or MD, where I might work. Joy.) over the hijab. I don't know WHY people have to get in a tizzy over headgear. It's. Just. Hair.

Phew. Mashallah I feel better after that. I guess I had a lot to get out there.

Blogging's a little slow this week. I think back-to-school plus Hurricane Katrina has everyone occupied. Not me. Make duas, y'all. Job-and-happiness-and-deen duas. It's the month before Ramadan, as Umm Zaid pointed out, and I want to be ready since I'm sooo unstable right now, so I think I'll fast tomorrow, and every Monday and Thursday until Ramadan. And get all 5 prayers done while fasting, insha'Allah. Didja hear that! I just made intention! Now I'll hold myself to it.

Ok. I'm procrastinating. THere's not much to do, so I think I'll pray and then go to bed at the unprecedented hour of 10 pm. There's an unemployed woman for ya.

peace
TwennyTwo

*PITA= Pain In The Arse

Volunteering for Red Cross?

Hey, y'all... peace.

Decisions, decisions. I'm having to deal with a lot of those. Right now, since my life is kinda up in the air, I'm 'liberated', as a friend pointed out last night, in that I have no responsibilities to anyone but myself (and that includes bills under MY financial stuff. Ahem. I digress as usual), no kids, husband, parents are self-sufficient, etc.

In the wake of what's happened in the Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama areas, I'd really love to be able to go down as a volunteer, maybe a medical tech or EMT. Yes, my EMT license has expired, but I still have the skills- anyone who came through Wanda's class at GW will have skills for YEARS. If, as a volunteer, I'd get food and shelter and a way back to family after the urgency of matters is gone- heck, I'd love to do it.

Of course, my family is discouraging me. Nothing new. My mother pointed out that the conditions would be primitive, like when I first lived in PR. I pointed out in response that half my issue in PR in guayama was the fact that I didn't have anything to DO for half of my day- I felt stuck. One of the things I've figured out is that I have to feel valued, and essential, in whatver I do- and my work hast to be giving to others. If I can do that and still support myself, then I'm happy.

Mama also asked me to think back to when I was last happy with my work, etc, because she said I haven't sounded truly happy in a while... d'you know, the first LONG period of time I thought of was the year 2002? No joke. I need to sit and count my blessings a minute. And quit grouching. Or put myself in a spot like where I was in '02. My job was at the MSSC, giving out money- fulfilling the 'giving back' and 'essential' qualifications, and I was also pretty well paid. I didn't have to worry about housing or food or health insurance or transportation, and I could go enjoy myself if I wanted. I was also happy because that year I had the most amazing teachers. And spiritually, I was learning so much and discovering faith with eyes wide open in amazement. So my soul was at peace.

Now, maybe, that has something to do with being on a college campus, since it was the combination of those things that I found ideal. Quizas. Pero- what I really miss is my interaction in the community, seeing all the people who live around me and serving them. So I want to go volunteer- if not Katrina-area relief, maybe somewhere else. I know there are obstacles to that, but. Too bad. I'll keep y'all posted and see if I have to eat those words.


On other notes...
Last night I met up with an old friend, and we went (in a hot, bad-ass blue bmw)to..... the Krispy Kreme store! You know, the kind where they show the pastry from proofing to frying to icing. I love those places. (I had yummy hot fresh original glazed.) We just talked about stuff for 'round two hours. I really had a good time, and got home all refreshed and relaxed (and maybe hot and bothered, but I shall be virtuous and repress the nafs). My friend is doing well, at a great job but considering changing; we hadn't seen each other since graduation, so it was so good to just see each other and hug... and then talk for hours. I'm glad I'm back in the area, and I'm making a point from now on to see my friends, especially this one, more often. It was a relief, y'know?

I'm off jobhunting. Love and peace y'all.

TwennyTwo

A-MEN!

"Indifference is a weapon of mass destruction" ~Democratic rep from Maryland

I saw that in the Washington Post and had to share.

Life's been a bit busy, will blog again later.

peace
ME

Somebody tell Larry King...

That it's New Awwahlins and NOT New OR-Lee-ins. It's driving me insane.

`da insomniac

Tuskegee is fine, y'all

Sorry I haven't blogged in a coupla days. I've been busy with the job search (2 interview, alhamdulillah!!!) And watching the news nonstop since Katrina was in the Gulf of Mexico... Thanks to Aleksa and everyone else who asked about my family in Alabama. Tuskegee is fine- I spoke to my grandfather (right after I hooted and hollered when they actually said "Tuskegee" on CNN and pronounced it correctly) and he said that although they'd pronouncd a tornado warning ovber there, there was some lightning and a whole lotta wind, and that was it. There wasn't even any damage to the pecan trees.

On my father's side, however, I'm a lil worried about my family in Metairie, the ones who hosted the family reunion a while back. I know they evacuated, but from what I saw on the tv screen, they won't have a whole lot to go back to. Or wayy too much, if they're lucky.

I'm also worried about my parents in Cincinnati. I lived through the last flooding there... the really bad one back in '98 and then again in '99, and even though it didn't hit our house, that stuff was no joke. I was rowing then, and we didn't get back on the river for quite a while, even though we rowed on a tributary of the Ohio in Kentucky- the Ohio at Cincinnati is WAY fast for novice-level (and even some more experienced rowers) most of the time. The Newport levee had just been finished , and so the aerial pictures- one of Covington, completely under water, alongside Newport, with its green wall around it, high and dry- just left me with my mouth open. A lot of people on riverside property- very poor, reminds me of La Perla in San Juan- lost their houses, clothes, food, possessions, etc. Very few people died, however. The main difference this time would be that the weather isn't cold. I remember it was freezing cold outside the last time the Ohio and Miami rivers flooded. No fun for anyone.

So. Y'all be praying for everyone in the path of the storm folks named Katrina. I know I will. She is one bad lil girl.

Hey, Aleksa. Get a blog, girl. I appreciate the comments, really. But it's getting to be a bit much. No fair I can't get you back, either- at least I can comment up a storm over at Sherry's place.


Onnn the job front- I've had a coupla people interested in me on the Great AuPair site. One job would be for a newborn who isn't here yet. I talked the other over with my mother, and I dont' think I'm going to take it, since I'd have to ask for a substantial increase in pay, and the family cant' afford it. I kinda regret that, since I talked with the mother for almost an hour yesterday. Turns out she had a two-year-old and then had a set of quadruplets- naturally. Yeah. Amazing. She's PuertoRican, and loved that I'd teach her kids, especially her older son, Spanish just by talking to him completely in the language, since she's from NYC and says she's the only one in her generation to speak the language. I think it's awesome that she wants her kids to learn Spanish. But I wonder about language ties and heritage. I'm constanly saying that any child I have would speak Spanish since that's all I'd speak to him or her, and they'd also have to speak whatever their father's language will be, so they'd en trilingual from jump street. It makes me sad to hear from so many people whose parents, thinking it was best for them, forced them to learn english, or worse, didn't let them learn their first language. They're ok with it until they feel impaired in that language. Hmmph. Americanization always has a hidden dark side. I'm not saying you have to keep all the customs of your homeland, that can be detrimental too. But knowing a second language has been so integral to my life, I can't imagine myself without that ability, and it must be something to yearn to have what I take for granted.

Sorry. I'll get off my soapbox now.

peace
Me

The Service Standard

As I've been searching for a job, I've applied for many different positions in several different places: from teaching to nanny, from receptionist to research associate, from server to hotel concierge. I've got the skills and the ability to do any and all of those jobs. In more than one way I've felt myself hampered not by my skills- if anything, the fact that I'm willing to do any kind of work should help me- but by the attitudes of my friends (hardly) and family (profoundly) when I discuss with them my applications and why I choose to do so. And it ain't just them. This, I think, may just be a community-wide thing.

Let me go back into history to explain why this is such a bigole pain. My great-grandmother is still alive, and almost 90 years old. She is amazing. As far as I understand, she barely finished school, and never went to college. She's literate, but her handwriting, though cursive, isn't exactly refined. She doesn't use it in her line of work.

She was a domestic worker- a cook and sometime housekeeper- for all of her working life. Then, during her retirement, she would take care of some of my cousin's kids until they were school-aged, which allowed said cousin to work. She still tells stories of the times when she would cook for these rich white descendants of plantation owners, how they'd act toward her, and how proprietary she felt toward them. They might have felt she was theirs, but in reality things were more the other way around.
My great-grandmother only had one child, my Grandpa (not to be confused with Grandpa Earl), and through that line especially I've learned the importance and pride not only in hard work, but in a craft and service - the combined abilities to use your hands well and to use that for the benefit of a community. Ain't no shame in being a domestic or blue collar worker. This is a big part of my worldview. It wasn't always- I was really trained to it in purpose and example.

So we know that my family, especially on my mother's side, should see no problems with service work or manual/blue collar work, because it is an honored tradition for us. With me so far?

The other line I get from my family is that of constantly improving yourself and your station through education. My father's life is the big lesson on that topic- I remember his college graduation quite well, because I watched him walk across the stage. In MY lifetime, he's gone from being janitor to air-conditioning repairman, both blue-collar, to working in computer analysis for the government- very very white collar. So I also get this sense that the only reason to get an education is to help you improve your class station and get that high-payin' job. Not just for the education itself or to raise the level of education in your race or class or community, but for the monetary rewards. You pay for it so it can pay for itself. I understand this. And I do agree that education in this country, expensive as it is and can be even for academically gifted people, isn't worth the money you spend if you can't earn enough to pay the loans back OR do what really makes you happy.

Then there's the fact that economically, black people stand to lose a great deal because of entitlement attitudes and lowering education and employment levels. The public education system of this country was made to turn out educated LABOR so the country can run. The US already in trouble with companies exporting labor and service positions because they're cheaper and in a lot of cases people don't kick up too much dust when asked to actually do some work. Of course those same companies can get away with a lot more abuse, but that's another entry. My point here is that as part of a community that doesn't have all that much to begin with my reality is that you have to do with what you have, or you won't have anything. If I have no job and many skills, then I should apply as many places as possible so I'll get some job somewhere, and work from there. If I want to work my way up the ladder I can start after I have a way to fill my mouth and sleep warmly at night.

Still with me?

The reason for my frustration of late is that every time I mention that I've applied for a nannying or concierge or waitressing position, I get insta-commentary from family members and certain friends to the point that I should NOT be trying for that kind of job, that I have a college degree and that I'd be wasted there. In essence,that I'm above such things. It is that attitude that has me soooo frustrated. For example, in two different conversations I had yesterday, I had someone first question whether or not I was trying to be in the hospitality industry, and then, in a later conversation, point out that immigrants have such great chances now because they take the low-paying and manual jobs that
black people are too proud to take anymore, like cooks or janitors or agricultural jobs. (The incidents in Herndon, VA, were on the news, and we went into a discussion about that, just to give some context.) Same person, not an hour between both statements. I'm not even really angry about it anymore, but it does have me thinking.

My question is, can we have it both ways? Because as a BLACK Gen-xer (I think- or am I Generation Next? My parents are baby boomers, but I digress), I know, in my heart, that my family and community want simply the very very best for me and my generation. I mean, we're only one step- sometimes two- from the time when being a pullman porter or a teacher was the MOST prestigious job someone in the Black community could have! People were blacksmiths and subsistence farmers and construction workers and carpenters and were proud of their honest work. When we lose that pride in our work we lose work period. I don't know a single soul who can afford that, black, red, brown, yellow or white.

At the same time, it only contributes to a great level of frustration and confusion to tell me, as an educated person, that I'm too good to be a teacher or a front-desk person. Am I really too good for anything? Dont' get me wrong. I really want a great, high-paying job. I want to get the education so I can have it. But on the way there, I don't see a thing wrong with being an educated nanny or service worker. I know that it may be a stop on the way, but not the last place I go, either. I'm not going to take being condescended to , and I'm not going to be ashamed because I have a BA and a blue-collar job. And I also know that I'll end up as an executive officer or a doctor if that's what I want. We've got to stop holding ourselves to a double standard. Because what we're holding onto is our own progress. Let it go!

Now. I know I'm not the only person who has had this thought, so please holla back... and I dont' care if you're black or not! I just want thoughts.

peace
Miss TwennyTwo

Stayin' Alive

Assalaaamu Alaikum Mah Peoples!

I'm still alive, alHamdulIllah.

Thanks to David and Aleksa and Sherry for stalking me on and off the internet and not letting me disappear in time of distress.

I'm back in DC altho you can't see it by my blog; I was here for more than a week, left, and am back again. I had a job interview on Monday, and I heard back from the RitzCarlton (no job; booooo for them). Strongly considered blogging for stress relief when I was in Cincinnati b/c my father has this knack for reducing me to teenage-like behavior. My mother, saint that she is (altho she DID marry him, but I digress) had a chat with me, and now I see what's going on. But I have to say, I don't think I need to live near him. My father is like salt for me: I need him in my life, and a little of his advice and love at the right times, even when I wouldn't expect or ask for it, is good. But too much just leaves a horrible taste in my mouth. I love him. I wish eh'd take better care of himself- he's still got that huge belly and as far as I can see isn't modifying his diet in the LEAST. Insha'Allah he turns 50 this year, but not only do I want him to see that b-day, I want him to know his grandkids, and um, the way he's going, only God (swt) knows if he'll stick around for any amount of time.

Yeah. *sigh*.

Ech. I've got sooo much going on in my head I don't know what else to say. Better just leave it at that for now. I'll be back soon, insha'llah, I promise.

peace
Me

Living Tradition

I keep forgetting to put Living Tradition on my blogroll, so I'm writing it here so I don't forget.

I read the woman so much she deserves to be on the side of the page where I can just click on the title and gooooo.... and so can you.

peace
TwennyTwo

Blood singing through my head

There have been times in the past couple weeks when I think about certain things and my blood pressure gets sooo high that I can hear it. Singing through my head. I tried to remember why I wanted to blog about that, but I've forgotten. Suffice it to say that I'm only 24 and my life has been such that I can sometimes hear the anger in my blood as it rushes to and away from my heart. And even if the sound is comforting, the fact of it is scaaaareeeee.


Anyways.

I interviewed at the Washington area Ritz-Carlton job fair today, and I think I may have gotten the job, insha'Allah. I'm being all uncertain b/c it ain't certain til I get the job (and plus I don't wanna jinx it).

The best thing about this week has been the MUSALLAH at GW. That place is tiny but so much better than what I had in PR there's no comparison. It helped me get back on track with my prayers. And they had these chador-likethingies that actually FIT me- with elasticized sleeves and a hem that fell to the floor. Makes praying *ahem* even more fun and fulfilling than normal.

I think, too, I just missed feeling like a part of an UMMA. That is very nice too.



I'm sick of the MSSC. I think I'll go catch the sale at Au Bon Pain (ah, yes, so THAT's why I left weight when I left DC...) and then actually get to my aunt's house before dark today, won't that be something.


If anyone hears of a (muslim-oriented, cincinnati or dc or puerto-rico area) job, you know where to get at me...

maSalaama
Me

I got the Alumna-Back-On-Campus-Broke-Wit-No-Peeps-In-DC-Bluuuueeees.

*Title to be sung to a honky-tonk blues tune similar to the one they used for Kraft Mac Blue Box Blues.**


Actually the title pretty much says it all. I'm in DC, and while I love this city, too much of it is tied to college for me- as a matter of fact, I'm using the MSSC's "free" computers to write this.

I'e decided to make my pit stop here a bit longer, extended it for a week while I got reacquainted wit m'girls and did some seriously intense job hunting- so intense that my back parts are numb from sitting and my eyes wobbly from looking at a computer screen for s'dang long. Still, I've got a couple of calls back for interviews already, and there're two job fairs tomorrow. And Mr. Cannaday is getting me an interview tomorrow so I can work at GW (insha'Allah) and keep getting all the nice perks that kept me afloat my last two years at G-Dub. Sherry, you know how he is, so you know what I'm talking about. Oh, wait. You had issues with him, right? Well, we'll see if I end up with a job based on the hook-up or based on my fantabulous interaction, communication, or child-care skillz.
(I've also applied at whitehouse nannies, as well as a ton of other nanny/au-pair places.)


I'm staying with my aunt; this is great b/c it's free and I get to see and play with my cousins a lot. Bad b/c Ernie is currently in love with me, which in his autistic self means that he tries to put his buttocks on me, and coughs and or burps in my face. Constantly. My aunt is in for a ride with him... he may never be able to live on his own. I heard Claudia, the housekeeper, say to him before we walked out the door this morning: "Say hello, Ernie... say hello... you'll be 10 on Saturday. You will be talking when you are 10." Such optimism- Ernie hasn't made clear comprehensible speech in all of his 10 years though he is vocal for all of that.

For all those interested, Nishat and I are still talking. I still like him, get that. I wish I could see him though, it's easier to bring up stuff that way. I hate that he's called me a lot recently and everytime he does I'm involved with something. If I'm going to marry him but not date, how on earth are we supposed to get acquainted? Muslima input on this one, please.

Ok, I've punished myself enough with the AC 'round here, and I've posted for the few of you who read this... call me!

peace
TwennyTwo