He Took Me Away: A Simple Reflection

April 24th, 2010 | By Sonnie Johnson

Whenever things get tough in my life, I start to think back on the past.  I’ve learned there are no new lessons, just lessons learned the hard way and forgotten.  Even the most self-reflective person falls victim to apathy. And it is in this moment God hits you with a dose of reality.

He took me away.  I was only an infant and my mother was addicted to crack.  My father wasn’t ready to  be a single father, so he gave me away.  I found an Angel on earth.  God gave me my mother.

He took me away.  I was always one to question, so he sent me a pastor who welcomed debate.  In the youngest years of my religious up-bringing my pastor preached self-sufficiency, the power of faith, and an always open mind. I had a spiritual guide sent by God

He took me away.  In high school I got Honor Roll without even trying. I did the minimal to succeed and spent the rest of the time skipping. When I was forced to switch schools my junior year, I was awakened.  One old bald teacher asked questions that made me think, this was a foreign concept.  I was used to regurgitation. God blessed me with the true method of learning.

He took me away.  I was surrounded by conservatives that preach liberalism. Single mothers who pay all their bills on time will encourage you to get food stamps. First generation fathers convince their sons abortion is acceptable.  Former felon turned business owner proclaims “The man in trying to keep me down”.   God gave me a sense of humor for irony.

He took me away.  I love a bad boy. A crisp white tee, fresh braids, and an attitude to match.  Crohn’s stopped that fast.  It’s hard to deal with the drama of a hard-headed stubborn male when you spend every other week in the hospital.  God knows better than you, I’ll leave it at that.

He took me away.  Away from his church, away from school, away from my family and friends, and away from my own personal desires.  He took everything from me and I was left wondering what was next. For a long time, I wondered what was the purpose. Why did God put so much time and energy into guiding my life, even when I had turned from him?

Only now that God has built me back up do I understand the wisdom in his plan.  He knew I needed something strong in my life that wouldn’t let me stray to far and he blessed me with Mary. Before she gave birth to me, someone slipped something in her drink.  She hasn’t been right since.  Though I wasn’t perfect, I knew that my actions held consequences.

He knew his church wasn’t what it used to be.  At 16 I began to wonder why the church had never built anything.  Not to be funny but since I was 6 there was a building fund to buy land adjacent to the church.  My Grandmother forced me to attend meetings, so I know the county was selling the land to the church at a reduced price.  To this day, no land.  You get a message, with no real community outreach just judgement, criticism, and a collection plate.

He knew schools were no longer teaching the truth.  I did three book reports on Langston Hughes and was never told he was a Communist.  No books available to me at the time revealed this fact nor did any teacher correct my error.  And don’t even get me started on W.E.B.  I would love to ask just one English or History teacher for the truth about him and the Eugenics movement.

He knew I had surrounded myself with people who had already surrendered.  They are in the same place now as they were when I left.  No progress, no advancement just a bunch of complaints.  I love to talk so I have two options; complain or speak out.  When in Rome……..I’d still be there complaining.

He knew that when I set my mind on something I wanted, or something I wasn’t supposed to have, there was no stopping me.  Even to my own detriment.  The hardest transition is taking your personal desires and pushing them to the side to do God’s will. It leaves you wondering what could’ve been, if you don’t have the faith to put it all in God’s hands.

He took me away and he placed me in this bubble.  In this confined space I have reaffirmed my commitment to God, I’ve captured my history, I’ve build a new group of friends, and now I’m fighting the last step in the process.  Why?  I know what God has in store but I can’t help but want what I want.   God I am a work in progress.  Please keep your hands on me.

Remembering Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.: A Conversation with our Future

January 18th, 2010 | By Sonnie Johnson

How do you teach a 5 year old the importance of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.?

Sky(my daughter): Hey Mom, I want to read my new book to you.  I know you’ll like it, it’s about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Me: Sure, I Love to hear you read.  But first, tell mommy about Dr. King’s dream.

Sky: My teacher didn’t talk about his dream.

Me:  So, I talk to you all the time about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  I talk to you about his dream.  Now, what was it?

Sky:  Let me read the book first.  Then you’ll know about Dr. King.

Me: O.K.

Sky(Reading):  Martin Luther King Jr. was a Civil Rights activist.

He marched for equal rights of black Americans

Martin Luther King Jr. won a Nobel Peace Prize.

Me: That’s it?

Sky:  Yup.  Martin Luther King Jr. won a Nobel Peace Prize just like Barack Obama.

Me:  Hold up!   Wait a minute.  Who told you that? (thought I was going to have to spend more time in her classroom)

Sky:  You did.  You said Barack Obama won a Nobel Peace Prize.

Me: OK.  Let Mommy tell you the difference between Dr. King and Obama.  First, what was Dr. King’s dream?

Sky: Judge a man on his color, not his content (she paused for a moment and did her reverse dance)  I mean judge a man on the content of his character and not he color of his skin.

Me:  Yup.

Sky: But what does Civil Rights mean?

Me: Well back in the day, white and black people weren’t allowed to go to the same schools, the same swimming pools, or playgrounds. 

Sky: That’s stupid

Me:  Sure is.  But its a part of our history and as you get older, you’re going to learn more bad things about how blacks were treated in America.

Sky: But we’re not black, we’re brown

Me: Sure are.  But let me question you this, does it matter?  If our goal is to live Dr. Kings dream than does the color of our skin make a difference?

Sky:  Mom, I just wanted to read you a book.  Not have this long conversation.

Me:  Too bad.  You are going to grow up in a world where you get it from both sides.  There are white people who will hate you, just because you’re black and there are  black people who will hate you because you don’t show hate towards other races.  My job is to teach you how to navigate through with the same dignity, pride, love and preservernce as Dr. King.

Your father and I work hard to ensure you can achieve that dream.

Sky: What is prese……?

Me: it means to never stop.  You want to become a veterinarian, than you work hard to achieve that dream.  If someone tells you you’re not good enough, prove them wrong.  If someone tells you it can’t be done, do it and inspire them to follow.  If someone tells you its impossible, tell them you are the master of impossibility. 

Sky: Master of impossiblity, that sounds like a Super Hero

Me:  it does, doesn’t it.  Fly, Master of Impossibility, Fly

(Sometimes you just have to let a kid be a kid.  Maybe it’ll get easier at age 6)

My Michael Jackson Tribute: A Thank You To The Guest of WHWDRadio

June 26th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

I woke up this morning, hoping it was all a bad dream. I was scared to turn on the news because I didn’t want to see a tribute that reminded me, Michael Jackson is dead at he age of 50. Damn!

First, send a prayer out to Michael Jackson’s family, friends, and fans. Now, for my personal tribute.

My favorite Michael Jackson song is, “Man in the Mirror”. “If you want to make the world a better place, take a lookat yourself and make that change.”

Don’t get me wrong, I know all the moves to “Thriller”, I remember singing “Bad” on a record player, “Billie Jean” got me in trouble with my mother, and “Smooth Criminal” was my ‘ish’, but Man in the Mirror has been the one song that always stuck with me. When I was doing stuff I had no business, when I was struggling with my illness, and when I eventually decided it was time to make my voice heard, Michael Jackson was never that far away.

Michael Jackson was a true inspiration, no matter the controversy that surrounded him. He made the world sing together, smile together, and hope together and all he asked in return, that we look in the Mirror and realize we all have the power to make change. In tribute to Michael Jackson, I would like to thank the people that have helped me realize this about myself. We never know how long we are going to be here, so always show appreciation for the people that influence and inspire.

Hip Hop Republicans– Finding a place of acceptance is a difficult task for some, for me especially. I refuse change the way I write or speak, I don’t sugar coat or look for political correctness, basically I don’t fit the mold of the average “Republican”. Yet, they promote both my blog and my radio show. They offer me assistance, advice, and inspiration, with no censorship or maybe you should try it this way. They step back, let me make my mistakes, and support me regardless. That’s the side of the Republican Party we need to share with the rest of the country. Thank You Hip Hop Republican.

Lenny McAllister– I am an official “Lenny should run for office” stalker. I could list his accomplishments but I’d be here all day. To me, he has become a sounding board, a voice of reason, and a “I’ve been where you’re at” perspective. He is always willing to share inspirational words and has exceptional point of views on a varitey of different subjects. Thank You Lenny, for listening on the days I don’t know which way is up.

Nadra Enzi A.K.A. Capt. Black– Have you ever met a man that made you want to become a Super Hero? If not, then you need to meet Nadra. While urban communities focus on what the government is not doing, Nadra focuses on how the urban community is failing itself. With the invent of “Al Thugga”, the name given to the street thugs that run American inner cities, he is shining a light on the destructive forces we give sanctuary. Thank you Nadra, for believing we have the right to walk the streets in our own neighborhoods with out feeling afraid.

Rev. Isaac Hayes– Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Every once in while, you get a reality check on this statement. Rev. Hayes was my reality check. Check out the musician, DWELLA, and see if you can make the connection. Seriously, check it out. Thank you Rev. Hayes, for giving me confidence that God uses all instruments to send down his word.

Dr. Timothy Johnson– Usually, when people get into positions of power, they forget about the little people. The new VP of the NCGOP, definetly has a lot on his plate. Yet, he took the time to conversate with me on conservative principles and sharpen my ability to fight against Liberal propaganda. But the most inspiring thing about Dr. Johnson, his ability to forgive, both himself and others. No man is without sin but it takes a real man to step up, admit thier faults, ask God for forgiveness, and leave it with the Lord. Thank you Dr. Johnson, for showing me making up for mistakes of the past is one thing, basing your life around them is another.

Andrew Simon– My competitor, LOL. Andrew visited the show this week and indulged me in a little talk about Hip Hop. We took the easy way out because we have some major disagreements about Health care. Regardless, I had an empty slot on my show and he volunteered to step in. Thank you Andrew, for giving me conversations to look forward too.

To all listeners, callers, and critics, I say thank you. Just showing up to hear my annoying voice is enough for me. You are all appreciated.

In looking at my true reflection in the Mirror, there is one more person I have to thank.

Specta– My confidence giver, my idea accelerator, and my first inspiration to do more than just blog. Things happen for a reason and your arrival in my life, truly played it’s part. Thank You for continuing to support me, even froma distance.

If you’re wondering how all this ties into the Death of an Icon, remember, Michael Jackson inspired people. He inspired me and I appreciate his inspiration. And though he knew we loved his music, dance, and creativity, I wonder if he knew how much we appreciated the lessons learned from that music, dance, and creativity. Last night, my daughter watched “Thriller” for the first time. As I watched her imitate the same moves I once spent hours perfecting, it hit me, if we don’t share the lessons of those that inspire us, there will always remain only one reflection in the Mirror. Michael Jackson deserves more.

Here’s Comes The Test: Following Own Advice

May 8th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

It’s been a crazy five weeks. I’ve been so focused on what I want to do, I’ve forgotten what I was put here to do. Now it’s time I take some of my own advice. Let God be free to run your life.

Let’s start at the beginning.

I went to school for Broadcast Journalism about 5 years ago. When I graduated, I planned on going into sports. BTW, I never follow the anointed star, but damn Lebron James is doing his thing.

But God had other plans for me. He decided to bless me with a baby that doctor’s said I’d never have. And with the fear and uncertainty of being a new mom, I turned back to God. I began to pray again and I saw tiny lessons being put in front of me.

I reconnected with my family, gained a love for politics, and a passion to bring real change into the community my daughter would grow up in.

My sanctuary through all this was writing. I was sitting around with my cousins one day and we were all talking about the perfect job. I said my perfect job would be writing. Just to be able to touch people with my stories or poetry. That would be heaven for me.

And what do you know, a year later, whydidyousaythatgirl.com. And I was happy. I had a publisher looking at my novel, my daughter was healthy and happy, and I was doing what I love. God and I were on the same page and it felt good.

Right in the middle of my comfort zone, God comes storming in, “You ready for your next step?”

Without thought, YES. Because this means my novel is going to be published, my mark will be left, and the future will be full of endless opportunities. So come on, let’s go. I remember getting goosebumps from my excitement.

Bam! Publisher pulls out, editor can’t explain why, and I’m like “WOW”. I thought I was ready?

God said, “You weren’t even paying attention to what I wanted when I asked if you were ready. You had it all planned out in your mind, you weren’t even paying attention to what I was building around you.”

So when I stopped looking at what I thought was going to happen, I began to realize what was happening. My mettle was being tested in another arena. Instantly, I got mad at myself because I had done it again. I slipped back into everyone before me mode.

I was accepting treatment from people, who on a normal day, would catch my wrath. I was seeking advice from people, who had their priority list straight, and were looking out for their own self interest. But worst of all, I had began fighting God again.

He’d make a person show their true colors and I looked the other way. He’d give me hints as to why my book wasn’t really ready and I pounded my feet on the pavement. He presented me with a pathway forward and I procrastinated because of my own fears. God and I were throwing body blows.

You can check my blog for a big block of missing dates and have a perfect time frame for me and God’s little encounter. Fighting God takes so much energy, you have room for nothing else. So I gave up. I went back to praying, let your will be done.

I was in process of planning WHWDRadio but was petrified. I didn’t want to host a show by myself. So I asked my best friend in the entire world to come on with me. Not a good idea, I’ll leave that story for another day. Through all this turmoil and mess, I was writing everyday on my blog. Even though my life was in disarray, God and I were strong.

I get this great opportunity and begin to believe life is getting good again. I show up, do the damn thing, and walk away feeling proud. I had conquered one of my biggest fears, only to be slapped down by the opportunity giver at the next bend in the road.

But God and I were good and it didn’t affect me like it normally would have, instead it gave me a whole new confidence in myself. It was the straw the broke the camels back and the launching pad for WHWDRadio.

Now, to the point. I haven’t been writing on my blog the last couple weeks. I’ve been so focused on what I thought would happen, that I stopped paying attention to what God was building around me.

He was building a platform for his will to be done, not a showplace for my pride or personal ambitions. So where does this leave me?

Outside the ring, deciding if I want to go another round fighting with God. And even at the exact moment I’m writing this, I still have my boxing gloves on. The only difference, I’m about to go upside my own head for not following my own advice.

But that’s the beauty in asking for God’s will to be done. When you start stepping away from his path he gives the clues to get you back on track.

Lenny McAlister came on WHWDRadio Wednesday and hit me with a reality check. I tried to give him the best interview possible, even though I was struggling with some personal demons at the same time. The whole interview all I could think was “Am I really following God’s plan for me?”

After the interview, I get hit with my answer. The whole time I was trying to plan the show, I was getting stuck. My thoughts wouldn’t come together and nothing made sense, and it came to full bare with my lapse on the mute button. I was once again trying to do my own thing and not letting God work through me.

But God doesn’t leave you hanging, so he gives me a caller. After the fact, I can think of million things I could’ve said to debunk his argument but I realize that wasn’t the point. Yes, I love politics, but I care more about the plight in the black community than anything else. And that’s not a problem that can be solved by either party, it has to be done by the people in those communities. And that’s where my focus should be.

That’s a pretty generic lesson, huh? After all that personal turmoil, that’s what you come up with? Yes! A simple and plain lesson that to many of us take for granted. We know it to be true, but it’s a lot easier to point to policies made than it is to mourn the dead. It’s a lot easier to point a finger at one party or another than it is to make the hard sacrifices to save and create wealth. It’s a lot easier to cheer for the black president than it is to condemn the neighborhood drug dealer, gang banger, or future victim that sits and says nothing.

And as a proud Republican, I give them the ammunition to turn the fight to the easy stuff. I bring up Bush, Civil Rights, and the cost of higher taxes. They bring up racism, perception, and name calling. I can’t figure out why the facts don’t add up to them and they are trying to figure out if the Grinch’s heart is bigger than mine. And nothing gets solved.

And now my mental is once again in turmoil. I’m not heartless but I’m not afraid to talk about the tough issues. I’m not winging it, I’ve got the proof to follow up on everything I say. And yet here I am, pushing forward though my path is murky, dim, and uncertain. Praying for God’s will to be done.

If this is a test, I hope it’s graded on a curve.

The Other Side of Education: “Cupid” and “Nappy Head”

March 17th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

Yesterday, my niece called because she needed some help with her algebra homework. I pick her up and notice she is wearing clothes I know her parents would not approve of. I say nothing and we head to my house. About 10 minutes after we get there, a knock comes tapping at my door.

Not surprised, I open the door to see a little nappy headed boy standing in front of me. My niece shyly hid her face like she wasn’t interested in who was at the door. He manages to mumble out, Did I see “cupid” come in here. I smile and invite him in.

My niece is smiling like she got away with some thing, I let her have her moment. I leave the two unattended for about 20 minutes then I make my return and the real fun began.

When I got back, they had their math books open and were doing home work. They were giving each other little smiles and pokes in between but they were really accomplishing work. I sat at the table and asked if they had any questions.

“Nappy Head” said no. He had a good grasp of math, he just wanted to help “cupid” study. Cupid just looked away, not fully sure how I was going to re-act after the fact. I calmed her fears with a little verbal jabbing and she enjoyed her study date with “Nappy Head”.

“Nappy Head” said “There are two forms of education, knowledge you get from school and knowledge you get from life. Neither is more important than the other.”

I questioned his thought. He informed me it wasn’t his thought, it was his interpretation of a W.E.B. Dubois. (You’ll understand the relevance of this in a couple days.)

I got caught in my stereo-typing. I didn’t assume he was dumb, but I did assume he was broke. The more I chatted with “Nappy Head”, I realized he was smarter than the average bear. He wore plain jeans, an almost white tee, and a pair of boots too scratched to know the brand. I didn’t realize the err of my ways until I spotted the $280 watch on his arm. It was a plain black Citizen Echo, just like the one I got my hubby for Christmas.

So I questioned, “What do you plan on doing with your life?”

He answered, “I’m going to be a millionaire.”

So I questioned, “How do you plan on becoming a millionaire?”

He answered, “When I get enough money, I’m going to open a barber shop and let my uncle cut hair. Then, I’m going to start investing in real estate. It’s the perfect time to come up like Donald Trump.”

So I questioned, “How do you plan on getting enough money to open a barber shop?”

He answered, “Me and my uncle do what we got to do.”

At this moment, my nieces’ whole attitude changed. He parents shelter her so much, she is unaware of things right in front of her. I could tell, the more he talked the more she learned about him. What would’ve happened if she never caught on and got caught out there?

So I question, “Do you know it makes it a lot harder to secure a loan if you are a convicted felon? If doing what you do causes your dream to become harder to reach, is it worth it?”

He answered, “I’d rather take that chance than spend another night hungry, cold, and too mad at life to dream.”

I didn’t feel sorry for “Nappy Head”. But the truth of the matter is, more than likely he’ll be the one that gets popped. They always seem to catch the one’s that do it more out of necessity than greed. But what could I tell him? He picked a path to walk, knew the stakes, but decided it was worth the risk.

I told “Nappy Head” we make dinner at 6:00 every night and it’s always warm in my house. If he decided the risk was to great, he was welcome in my home. He nodded and they said their goodbyes.

Now, it was time to deal with my niece. I gave her no indication of what was to come. I drove her home and walked her into the house. There, I told her parents how she concocted her little meeting with “Nappy Head” by lying and setting me up.

She looked at me like she was shocked. In her mind, I’m sure I had destroyed what ever trust she had in me. Allowing her to sneak and lie with me as a cover was unacceptable and she had destroyed the trust I had in her to do the right thing, no matter how hard it was.

I turned to my niece, in front of her parents, “You did the wrong thing, even if it was for the right reason. If you were my daughter, I would have no problem with you having supervised visits with a boy. I’m not high-strung or over bearing, like some people. But I am not your mother or father, and it’s not my place to teach you how to disobey their wishes.

If you had came to me and said, I like this boy but my parents won’t let me see or talk to him, then I could’ve helped you work it out with them. Instead you chose to lie and that’s not cool.” She was then sent to her room.

One of my best friends and her husband, stood in front of me like, “We don’t know what we are going to do with her.”

I looked at my friend, “Let her see boys. She is 14, a good student, and respectful child. But she is also growing up and you have to let her get the other side of her education. The boy she likes sells drugs and she didn’t even know it.

If you make her sneak, she will sneak, and you have no control over the decisions she makes. But if you nurture her through the process, then she will keep you in the loop and you can have some influence over her life.”

I came home and looked at my daughter. She is beautiful, smart and full of attitude. I hope I can heed my own advice when it comes to my child. I’ll keep my fingers crossed and prayers heading to heaven.

Knowing Your Faults, Maybe Accepting Them: Giving Up For Lent

February 26th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

I’m going to make this short and sweet.

Every year around this time, I’m forced to re-evaluate myself. My mother maybe gone, God rest her Soul, but her words stick with me. “You can’t constantly look back, you have to more forward, but every once in a while turn around and see what you have left behind you. ”

Now, that was just a paraphrase. Her speech would involve more cursing and strict talk. I miss my Mom.

Easter is fast approaching, Spring in close pursuit, and the chance for ultimate rebirth and renewal is charging upon us. What better time to pick something about your self to work on?

I was thinking about what to give up for Lent. Before I started writing this blog, I was content on giving up Video Games. I just finished Fable 2, more on that to come, and I would’ve been content to wait 40 days and nights before I picked up the controller again.

As I wrote the first title and erased it, I realized the immaturaty of vowing not to play the video game. Is that the main source of conflict in me? No, so maybe I should take this time to do some thing a bit more fruitful. You know, something that will have results that last me a lifetime.

In my self anaylsis, I realized that’s my major downfall. I take an action. Then instead on immediately taking another, with careful planning, I judge the first. Which is not that bad. Except the spotlight of my mind is bright and far reaching. Nothing could live up to that kind of scrutiny.

For 40 days and 40 nights, I will not critize myself.

I believe you have to look at yourself for happiness because looking elsewhere will lead to nothing but disappointment. You also have to trust yourself enough to believe that all your prayers and hard work will guide your path.

The problem comes with people who have made so many mistakes and learned from them. I have made so many mistakes. <-(Place 200% emphasis on that line) I’ve even repeated the same mistakes multiple times. Hell! I’ve created new mistakes trying to stay away from the old ones.

Mistakes are neccesary, but at what cost?

I’m not going to answer that question. Why? Because I would break my promise.

Instead, I’ll offer this. Prepare yourself. This could be one bumpy ride.

———————————————————————————

I encourage every body to try making a minor sacrifice during this time of Lent. I don’t care if your not Christian or you don’t believe in God. It matters not. Make up a new name for it and roll on.

Make sure to take the time and think about what ails your life.

If you are in financial debt, lock down the credit cards and only use cash.

If you over eat, elimate all snacking. (you don’t have to stop eating regular food. Small steps.)

If you are in a shaky relationship, start a serious dialoge and no response is a definate response.

If you are a addict, give up the places you go not the vice itself.

If you are a death and damnation Christian, walk amonst those who live in hell.

If you are a non-believer, talk to Me.

If you are broke, try to find beauty is something with no cost.

If you are rich, search for the great responsibility held in your wealth.

If you are just plain unhappy, Smile. Just fake it and Smile.

More importantly, add my vow on top. Don’t look back for 40 days and 40 nights. Then, we can all look back and pray we have learned a lesson to last a life time.

Police: A Personal Story

January 6th, 2009 | By Sonnie Johnson

When I was 18, I loved being bad. Hanging with the wrong people at the wrong place. Doing the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.

There was a cop that patrolled my old stomping grounds, Officer Booker. I don’t know if it was his real name or one given to him because of his appearance, but he was a real ass. He once gave one of my boys a ticket for riding his bike the wrong way down a one way street. (I know, I didn’t think they could do it either but he did.)

Well, a couple days after my 18th birthday, Officer Booker pulled me over because I had a broken tail light. He gave the whole riot act, then he got real with me. He reminded me I was now legal and if caught doing what he assumed I was doing, I would go to adult jail.

I’m not going to pretend that I listened. He let me go with a warning and I ignored his words. Within a few minutes, I was getting paged like crazy. 911 behind each beep. I returned to my stomping grounds to find it swarming with police.

They had gotten a search warrant for the apartment next to my boys and knocked hard on the door. My boys thought it was for them and their ass started chucking shit out the window. Which gave the police probable cause to search their apartment. No one lived in the apartment next to them.

They were all arrested and I was on the outside of the building, just watching. One of my boys, who wasn’t in the apartment at the time, arrived and started taunting the police. Of course, at the time I thought it was hilarious. Until he dropped a pack out of his pocket.

Like a dumb ass, I moved to cover up the evidence. You know, gotta protect your boys. Guess who saw me? Officer Booker. I know he saw me because I saw him looking at me. Another officer came to me and asked to see my ID. I told him he had no right to ask and I wasn’t going to give it him. I knew my rights.

That didn’t stop the officer from harassing me. It would’ve been easier if I didn’t have work under my foot or if my boys weren’t still giving the officer such a hard time.

(O.K. I learned something else that day that I would like to share real quick. Don’t hang out with stupid people that do stupid things. One of my boys told the police he makes more money in a month than the officer makes in a year. He told the cop this before he dropped his pack. If the officers weren’t being cautious because of the crowd starting to build, I’m sure the would have searched him right away.)

Anyways, as the cop continued to question me, Officer Booker came to my assistance. He told the cop I was a volunteer at the rec center and I’m constantly down here trying to help the kids. Which was kinda true. I helped all the kids with their homework and braided the girls hair if their mothers didn’t.

The cop left me alone and Officer Booker told me that was his last time offering me assistance.

I changed all my rules at that moment. If you were dirty, then don’t get in my car. If you did and we got pulled over, then I was going to point right at your ass. A myriad of things I used to do were no longer on the table and I give all the credit to Officer Booker.

A couple months later, one of my boys got off on a murder charge. One of the smartest of the group, he had saved alot of money and could afford a real lawyer not a court appointed. The day he got out, I went to see him. Everybody was happy and so was I. Until I saw Officer Booker ride by.

I left after saying hello and catching up a little. The next day, I received the call. My boy, who had just beat a murder charge, was dead. The night before, he had overdosed. Or so we thought.

Within the hour, Officer Booker came rolling by. My boo and I were outside and he motioned us over. I went but my boo did not. Come to find out, my boys drugs had been laced and more than likely so had the rest of the pack. If they sold it, they could be liable for murder.

I’m telling you this because I’ve had a couple of experiences with some real good cops and some real bad cops. Just as I’ve had good experiences and bad experience with black people. Just as I’ve had good and bad experiences with white people. Just as I’ve had good and bad experiences with men on the cloth. Just as I’ve had good and bad experiences with down right rotten criminals.

The bias held against police leads me to question the intent of those who level it. Back in the day, I hated police because I was always doing something wrong and they could be the ones that caught and punished me. Was this valid hate?

I’ve never been called a nigger by an officer. I’ve never been beaten by an officer. I’ve never been falsely accused of a crime.

But I’ve heard my boys being called a nigger. (I hate to admit it but they were acting as though the name fit them.)

But I’ve seen the marks left by an officer on my brother. (Even though he told the cops they were worthless pieces of shit, they still had no right.)

But I’ve seen false accusations lead to death by cops. (One of my boys got into shoot out with cops who wanted to question him for something he didn’t do and lost. What would have happened if they caught him on one of the many crimes he did commit?)

But I’ve also seen cops pull victims out of a burning car. I’ve seen cops try to comfort grieving mothers. I’ve had to ask a cop to help me find my wondering daughter. And I’ve personally experienced a cop changing the life of a young girl.

Maybe we should start placing the blame where it belongs, with the criminals. No matter if the criminal is dressed in a uniform or has his pants hanging down to his knees. They should all be held in the same light.

Let’s take any rap song. You hear the artist talking about pulling out a gun and shooting someone for looking at them wrong and it’s O.K., until that person is a cop. Then all the shit hits the fan. Why? Are cops held in higher esteem. No. They are in a position of power and they abuse that power. I get it.

I’m not finished with this. I have to go and take care of somethings and figure out exactly where to leave this. Come back a little later today and I’ll have this finished. Right now, I’m going to get paid.

Happy New Year

December 31st, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

I bet you guys missed me. Thank you for the emails asking if I was O.K.

Yes, I am fine. And I’m not going any where. I haven’t written about Blagojevich or the auto bail out because I’m a little more concerned about Me. No one is perfect and we all have to go through our struggles. I am no different.

The differences come in how you deal with your situations.

So with the in coming of this New Year and in addition to the personal promises you make to yourself, I would like to put out a massive Resolution. Resolve to watch out for your star player.

These are not my words. They come from the comedy act of Katt Williams. But they are none the less so true. We spend so much time trying to solve problems for other people we forget that it doesn’t matter if they are O.K. if you aren’t O.K.

If you are continuosly trying to please your mate and it is causing your hair to fall out. Bump them. You deserve to be beautiful and stress free.

If you want your child to grow up strong and healthy, you have to be strong and healthy to lead them.

If you want true financial stability, then you have to learn to make sacrifices.

So, enjoy today and tomorrow and I’ll be back with the turn of the calender. A new year. A new attitude. With the same morals, values, and some surprises along the way. I’m looking forward to 2009 and I hope you come with me for the ride.

Sonskystar

P.S. More in depth piece coming on taking care of your star player. But I want to leave you with this. Make someone hate on you this New Year. Get dolled up or G’d up and let the haters hate. Absorb every single moment and realize that you are worth it.

Giving Even When You Don’t Have

December 9th, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

O.K. So after I left the Grocery Store, I took my daughter to Chuck E. Cheese. While she was running around playing, I met this woman. She was real nice. She catered to her kids more than I liked but to each it’s own.

I share alot of personal info on this blog but in person, I’m not that forth coming. I’m a pretty guarded person. Anyways, the lady started talking about how her sister had left her two kids with her. She hadn’t seen or heard from her sister in months. She didn’t know how she was going to make it, when she could barely take care of her two kids.

I shared my story with this woman. My mother was an addict and my father was still running the streets. I was given to someone else to raise. My mother had two kids of her own but treated me like I belonged. I can remember buying shoes out of the grocery store, eating government cheese, and having to share a bed with my younger sister. But we made it.

I told the woman, you recieve when you give. She had a faint smile on her face. I could tell she was finding it hard to believe what I was saying.

My daughter came to me and asked if she could have some of her birthday money. She’s been saving up to buy something special. I asked her why and she said the kids didn’t have tokens to play the games with her. I said O.K. and got each of them tokens. The mother said thank you with her head down. I wanted to make this woman feel better, I just didn’t know how.

My dude was ordering Pizza. I hate pizza from C.E.C. But I love my dude. While I was talking to the woman, my dude was watching the kids. They were complaining they were hungry. My dude went and ordered two pizza’s for the kids. The woman actually started to cry.

I took her hand and lead her into the bathroom. I asked her if she prayed. She told me no. I asked if it would be O.K. if I prayed for her. She said yes. I can’t remember the exact prayer but it went something like this.

Dear God

I’m glad you are on our side. We are not perfect, far from it, but you love us anyway. Thank You Lord. Please continue to give us strength because through you all things are possible. We walk in darkness knowing you will provide light. We push forward when our legs feel to weak to move because we know you didn’t bring us this far to let us down now. We lessen the weight on our heart bringing our prayers to you because we know you listen. And we know you won’t take us through more than we can bear, so lord we put our faith in you.

Please give us strength to get through tomorrow, for that’s all we can ask. Keep your hands on us so your will can be done. All these things we ask in your name oh lord. Amen.

The women kept her eyes closed after I finished. I assume she had private words to share with God.

When we went back to the table, all the kids were eating, laughing, playing, and have a great time. The woman smiled and joined her kids at the table. I sat at the adjacent table with my dude. He told me he had spent all our “fun” money for the week. I told him it was worth it.

I’m so blessed. My daughter understands it’s better to give than to recieve. My dude understands “fun” for us can be replaced with a blessing for someone else. I prayed with a woman I barely knew that was going through what I’m sure my mother went through once or twice.

So today, go out and find someone that needs a blessing. Even if you need one yourself, don’t worry about that. Go out and try to make someone else smile. Give someone else a pat on the back and say “I’m praying for you” or “Come and pray with me.” For there is power in prayer.

I’m Back But Is That A Good Thing?

December 1st, 2008 | By Sonnie Johnson

I missed you guys. I missed writing. And I’m going to share something with you today. This is hard for me, so bear with me. I think I’m going to have to break this up in to a couple of sections because I had one hell of an interesting week.

You can tell by the title of this post, I was not over joyed by my Thanksgiving. I had to deal with bad news, which I will share you because your family maybe dealing with some of the same things and we can help each other get through.

Life is hard. I know I throw alot of criticism out but best believe I know that each person has went through something that got them to where they are. The lost or absence of a parent. Abuse or just plain neglect. A sharp and unrelenting dose of reality that crushed a person’s confidence in what they thought they knew. Or it could be as simple as falling in love and having it not work out. All events that shape and create individual personalities.

Mistakes are easy. I preach personal responsibility and that still holds. But there are times when you have so much of the world on your shoulders and so much of other people’s bull laying at your feet, it’s impossible to move. You have to stand there and take the pressure, bearing it without losing your mind. And sometimes the easy way out lifts that burden, for just a while.

And in that moment, you can see things clearly. Including the extra damage you caused by taking the easy way out. But you also catch up on all the emotions you have been trying to hide. You weren’t expecting this. All the backed up pain, all the unresolved lies; I guess you could say, all those skeletons you keep buried in your closet.

And this is where we mess up. One of three things can happen.

We look for the easiest way to push all that mess back into the closet. We drink, smoke, gamble, party or sleep, anything that will make the mind forget. We make the choice to postpone the inevitable. We don’t think of it that way at the time. We make excuses, like “shit this is Thanksgiving, I’m not dealing with that shit”. And off we go on our mission to hide from the rest of the world.

Or we look to place blame elsewhere. We cuss out grandma for letting mom get pregnant in the first place. “I wouldn’t be alive if you watched your daughter closer.” We blame dad for not being there, even though we know how easy it is to get caught up in our lives and forget about those that care for us. We blame people we’ve never met for acts we never experienced. Then after all that redistribution of blame, we wonder why everyone is looking at us like a lost cause.

Or we cry. We let tears rush down our faces burning traces of regret and disappointment in ourselves. We know we were trying to do the right thing but some how it got all mixed up. We know we have to make changes but before that we have to let it out. We have to let out all the mistakes we’ve made and forgive ourselves for them. And only then can we move forward, with clean closets.

Now all of that is well and good but what does it do for me? All I did was try to make it. Maybe I didn’t do everything right but I tried. Where is my scenario?

You are still in the blame scenario. It maybe indirect blame but it is blame non the less. You are not blaming anyone for the creation of your problems but you like to place blame for the lack of change since copping to them. And I’m willing to bet there are still skeletons hidden in your closet.

I’m writing this to make a point. Of all the lessons I’ve learned over this Thanksgiving season, this one is the most potent. At the end of the day, all we have is our mind, our sanity. At the end of the day, all we have is what we’ve done.

You can blame mom and dad for the way they raised you but you can’t blame them for your lack of sanity. And by sanity, I mean that peaceful place that allows you to breath, think, relate, and re-act. Most of us just re-act. We raise our voices and our tempers and lash out. It doesn’t matter where we are or who we’re talking too, we just let it out.

I’ve developed a name for this, Closetitist. Closetitist occurs when a person has to many unresolved issues. When faced with something new, they go into overload. It becomes hard to differentiate and separate the cause of a single problem. All the mess becomes jumbled and they momentarily lose their sanity. This is truly a self inflicted sickness.

There are no drugs, pills or street brand, that will fix it. The cure does not require you to have insurance. Nor do you have to schedule an appointment to lay on some doctor’s couch. All it takes is one step. One step out on faith.

Faith that there is no situation you can’t come out of. Now, if you have digged a ditch to far down to climb out of, this still applies. Maybe you won’t get completely out of the ditch but maybe you can find some light in the darkness.

The question becomes do you want the cure. Is your faith strong enough to bear the weight of the problems you have created? Some of us hold on to mistakes God has already forgiven us for. We are so afraid of everyone else seeing us weak, we hide. We use a nice car or fly outfit to hide. And sometimes it works.

You get the compliments and the looks from people who think they want to be like you but you know better. They may have a shitty car or holes in their shoes but they smile wider that you could imagine your lips stretching. It crushes you to think you would rather be like them. Down on their luck but happy. Scrapping by but at peace. No bling but a spirit that glows.

How did you handle it? I’m betting every single person that reads this had a breakdown this week. Which person were you?

I cried. A lot. I even lost my sanity for a moment. But I’m happy about it. See, the world didn’t stop spinning because I decided I wanted something different. The earth didn’t blow up because I decided to let my family know I wasn’t happy. I didn’t cease to exist because I made a mistake and finally admitted to it.

Instead, my family gave me strength. I got wisdom from those who created a path I’m about to walk. I found a place of comfort amongst those that love me the most. And that caused me to cry harder because all this time my closet could have been cleaned. My sanity could have been restored. I was just to prideful to step out on faith.

Maybe later I’ll give you the whole story. Maybe I’ll wait until it becomes fully resolved. But I will give you this. I’m back and it’s a Great Thing.