Articles Tagged: Inspiration

It Takes A Hood to Raise A Hood

February 18th, 2010 | By Sonnie

Once upon a time in a Fairy Tale land called Chicago, there lived a little boy named Tre.  Tre lived with his mother in a two bedroom apartment in a run down housing complex.  His father was a police officer killed in the line of duty.

Tre loved everything about seeing his father in a uniform.  The pride he took in making sure his clothes were clean and pressed made Tre want to do the same.  The time he spent talking to the every person he met on the street had opened Tre’s heart and allowed him to open his ears.  But nothing compared to what Tre’s father gave him outside of his uniform.

Tre’s father loved Science.  He was always in their little garage doing experiments with John, the boy next door.   Tre was to small at the time to help with any of the experiments but he loved sitting and watching as his father tried, failed, and tried again.  After his father died, John would often come over and continue the experiments.

As one year, then two passed, John stopped coming around as much and with his mother working two jobs and volunteering at the Church, Tre was often lonely.  But he didn’t care, he had science and this year he planned on taking top place in the City’s Science Fair.  Tre’s father experimented with weapons, so he took that science and applied it to race cars.  He invented a new way to send his toys airborne.

His mother was so excited for him, she went and bought him a $200 toy race car.  While she never would’ve spent that kind of money on  a regular toy, she knew how important this was for his education and ever more, his confidence.  Tre completed his project and invited John to see.   John was amazed at Tre’s ability to infuse his father’s technology into something so cool.  Tre knew his father would be proud.

Finally, it was time to turn in his project.  That morning his mother prayed over him and kissed his head for good luck.  Tre felt like he was on top of the world.  He passed a group of neighborhood boys on the street who took and instant interest in his car.  Tre wanted to be like his father, so he stopped and took the time to explain his project.  Maybe he could get one of these guys interested in science.

Not so lucky.  The boys began kicking and stomping the car until it was crushed into a myriad of pieces.  Tre stood and watched with little reaction.  The boys laughed and joked as Tre watched all his hard work destroyed.  Tre wanted to cry but he knew his father wouldn’t cry.  He wanted to fight back but he knew his father wouldn’t fight back.  And as he was thinking about his father, he felt sorry for the boys.  They probably never had a father to teach them right and wrong.  So, he did nothing and continued on his way to school.

When the teacher asked for his project, he turned in all his research and explained about his car.  The teacher wanted him to point out which boys wrecked the car but Tre refused.  He had his father’s memory and the knowledge he had succeeded in an experiment, that was enough for him.  The teacher, that one in a million teacher, decided it wasn’t enough for her.  She called Tre’s mom and told her about the situation.

Tre took the long way home to avoid the boys and when he opened the door, there sat his Mom, his teacher, and John.  Tre was confused.

“What happened today?”  His mother’s tone struck fear in him.

“Some boys crashed my car.”  Tre stated back, squaring his shoulders like his father taught him.

“What boys?”  John shouted back.

Tre felt torn apart inside.  His father would find a way to help those boys, not get them in trouble.  What was he to do?  “I’m not telling. My Dad…..”

“Your Dad was a police officer.  His job was to make sure kids like you got to school safely and without being bullied.  Do you think your father would’ve let this slide?”  Tre’s mother tried to contain herself.

“I think my father would’ve thought of another way to deal with it.  He would try, fail, and then he would try again.  But he would never stop trying.”  Tre started to tear up.

The three sat and watched as Tre grew up in front of their eyes.   “We get it.  We know what your father was and how he thought.  We know that you miss him like crazy but your life can’t be based on the past.  You are not helping those boys by forgiving their misbehaving.  You are only giving them the confidence to escalate their attacks.  You like the fact that your father tried and failed.  They have to fail, too.  Someone has to stand up to them.  That’s what you’re father did every time he put on that blue suit.”  That one in a Million teacher chimed in. 

“And what about your dreams?  You can’t spend your life tip toeing around these fools.  I know them.  I get hassled everyday because I joined the Science Club, but I have a job this summer in the burbs’ at a manufacturing plant.  If they think they hate me now, just wait til I roll up next year in my new ride.”  John inserted with a pop of his collar.  “If you let them, they will suck all the drive and passion out of you.”

“Both of those are really good  points.  But while you’re remembering your past and your father and dreaming about your future, don’t look over lessons being learned right now.  We could move to the burbs’.  Hell, I work to two jobs, money isn’t the issue.  Your father and I grew up in this neighbor.  We remember when the playgrounds were clean and the people were nice.  I stay because this is not what your father and I wished for this community.”  His mother began to cry.

Tre’s mind wondered as he processed all the information.  It was immensely important he make his father proud, equally important he make a better life for his future family, and even though he didn’t have memories of a clean playground, he wanted to one day see it come into existence.

“O.K. So what do I do next?”  Tre asked.

“First, you come up with another car by the end of the week for your project.  I got you an extension.”  His now Favorite Teacher spoke first.

“I’ve cleared it with my school and some of the clubs are going to miss second period to walk you and your other classmates to school.”  His Confidant John spoke next.

“And you are going to tell me which boys crushed the $200 toy I bought.  Then you are going to trust your mother to do the right thing.” She wiped her tears and returned to her normal state.

The end of the week came and Tre had successfully turned a $25 thrift store car, bought with his own money, into a projectile sports car.  His mother prayed over him and kissed his head for good luck.  Tre’s heart was still a little heavy.  When he exited his building, John and one of the boys who stomped his car were standing out front.  Tre instantly hid his car behind his back.

“You ain’t gotta do that, lil man.  I’m sorry I ruined your car.  We were just having fun, we didn’t realize how important it was to you.”  The boy stuck out his hand for a pound.

Tre was not feeling so gracious.  He knew his father would accept and he knew accepting could prevent future incidents, but his mother’s word rang loud in his head.  “It doesn’t matter if it was important or not.  Wrong is wrong and you were Wrong.  I love science. One day when you realize you’ve wasted the time you should’ve spent finding out what you love and you turn to selling drugs, you can come to my little garage and I’ll show you the science behind it.  Including  how your stomping my car is a direct result of its usage in our community.”  Tre could feel his emotions rising.

“Whoa, little man.  Calm down.”  The boy could see Tre puffing out his chest.

“I’m serious.  It took away my dad and I’m guessing it took away yours, in some shape, form, or fashion.  If the only thing you can find in this world to love is bringing other people down, then I will make it hard for you to live in this community.  I’m here now and my mother wants to see a clean playground and before I leave this Earth she will see a clean playground.”  Tre stood proud with his car on display.

Tre finished first place in the Science Fair and was approached by John’s manufacturing company to put his cars into production.  Tre made two requests.  One, the plant had to be built on a bus line.  It had to provide jobs for the people in his community.  And second, the company had to build a park close to Tre’s run down housing complex.  And Tre vowed to keep it clean.

A Good Ole’ Fashion Lynching: Secrets Revealed

February 11th, 2010 | By Sonnie

uring the last week, I’ve asked 10 random friends “Do you know who Willie Lynch  is?”  9 out  of 10 responded, He’s the guy they named Lynching after.  And that’s the problem with how American History is portrayed.  Bits and Pieces of missing information that until linked together makes a Black Person’s skin boil.  We are not going to research the person who invented Lynching because we think of Black People hanging from trees with good ole’ boys laughing.  We assume  we know Lynch’s true intent.

Nothing could be further from the truth.  Lynch was, using Obama’s word’s, A Fat Cat.  He was a man that put profit over human dignity and suffering.  To him, it was all about maximizing your inventory and profit.  He looked down upon the average “Lynching” as bad economics.  It’s sheer brutality and lack of future planning resulted in uprisings, run away slaves, and an unsafe environment for slave owners.  It was not good business, you see.

*There is a dispute over the authenticity of Willie Lynch’s The Making of  a Slave.  I say this: if I gave you a recipe to turn rocks and dirt into diamonds, would you care who wrote it?

 The formula contained in this document is sickening.  I literally had to re-read it ten times before I could comprehend the evil in this man’s heart.  I also realized, no matter how sickening it was, it wasn’t about Black People.  It was all about money.  *Now, before you Liberals jump in and try to bash capitalism, keep this in mind:  the top 50 companies in 2008 made 362 Billion in profit, the Obama Administration had a 2009 budget of 3.5 Trillion.  Who has more of a money incentive?

Lynch realized in order to get the money, you had to “regulate” or “control” the population which served you.  Which brings me to one of the most important tid bits in Lynch’s letter, the control of language.  As simple folk, we don’t speak the same language as the politicians.  We don’t talk inflation and deficit, we say stuff costs more and we’re in over our head in debt.  Politicians like it that way.  WHY?  “Take a slave, if you teach him all about your language, he will know all your secrets, and he is then no more a slave, for you can’t fool him any longer and having a fool is one of the basic ingredients of and incidents to the making of the slavery system.”

Then you’ll have Tea Party People marching on Washington demanding to be heard.  You can’t have that.

Ouch!  Secret Revealed.  All we need is Fools’ to follow us.   People who don’t realize without the Republican Party there would be no Black History Month. Hell there maybe no Black History, except slavery, at all.   We as black people complain about not being taught our history, even though we have an entire month dedicated to it, yet we never question Who leaves them out of the history books?  The answer: THEM.  Who’s them, the Republicans?  Republicans don’t want you to know a Great Black Republican Carter Woodson said “If the Negro in the Ghetto must eternally be fed by the hand that pushes him into the Ghetto, he’ll never have the strength to get out of the the Ghetto.”  I would think Republicans would put that on the front of the text book, especially with a 90% of blacks voting Democratic.

Democrats “control” the message by controlling what you learn in history books.  Not only do they control what language you speak,  they also control what becomes fact by common knowledge, not by actual events.   As disturbing as that sounds, there is good reasoning behind it. “Our experts warned us about the possibility of this phenomenon occurring, for they say that the mind has a strong drive to correct and recorrect itself over a period of time if it can touch some substantial original historical base; and they advised us that the best way to deal with phenomenon is to shave off the brute’s mental history and create a multiplicity of phenomenon or illusions so that each illusion will twirl in its own orbit, something akin to floating balls in a vacuum.”

Oops!  I did it again.  Secret Revealed.  Why have we yet to reach Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream?  Illusions!

 When a white person looks at a black person what do they see?  A Black Person. (Seriously, what do you see when you look at a white person?)  What does a black person see when they look at another black person?  Differences!  I HAVE OUTLINED A NUMBER OF DIFFERENCES AMONG THE SLAVES; AND I TAKE THESE DIFFERENCES AND MAKE THEM BIGGER. I USE FEAR, DISTRUST AND ENVY FOR CONTROL PURPOSES.” 

 Let’s pit the old vs the young.  Light vs Dark.  Tall vs Short.  Educated vs Illiterate  Rich vs Poor  And let them argue amongst themselves and be envious and distrustful of each other.  That will stop the phenomenon of correction!  DISTRUST IS STRONGER THAN TRUST AND ENVY STRONGER THAN ADULATION, RESPECT OR ADMIRATION    How many black conservatives are reading this like, DAMN.  Is that why I get raked over the coals for having a point of view? YUP!  Have you noticed how quick a black person is to judge another black person, unless that black person is in Democratic Power. 

While Obama could be a useful example, take the new tax on public radio.  There is virtually little black resistance to the devastation currently running through public radio in anticipation of this new tax.  Donnie Simpson, B.E.T. great and DC AM man, just had his contract cancelled because they didn’t want to pay him an appropriate salary.  While everyone called in and sent letters of love, there is still no backlash for the Democrats that are causing Black Professionals in the Radio industry to lose their jobs.  So while they respect and admire Donnie Simpson and all the people he employs, they are more concerned with the Democrats sticking it to the rich.  YOUR SLAVES TRUST AND DEPEND ON US.  THEY MUST LOVE, RESPECT AND TRUST ONLY US.

But Donnie Simpson will be alright.  He’s worked along time, he’s got money.  And they say we have a slave mentality, they would follow Democrats to the lynching of a black man.  You Doubt Me.  T.I.- while everyone talked about the Government going after a Black Man, which was easy because Bush was in office, no one looked at the policy that forces T.I. to buy illegal weapons.  Democrats push more and more gun “regulation” or “control”.  True believers in the Second Amendment, mostly on the Republican side, believe reformed felonies should be able to regain their rights to bear arms.  No Democratic Policy, T.I. legally applies to get his rights back and never goes back into the prison system. 

The sad part, that’s only two illusions.  Let’s move on to Lynch’s most important factor, Breaking the Family.  if you break the female, she will break the offspring in its early years of development and, when the offspring is old enough to work, she will deliver it up to you. For her normal female protective tendencies will have been lost in the original breaking process. For example, take the case of the wild stud horse, a female horse and an already infant horse and compare the breaking process with two captured nigger males in their natural state, a pregnant nigger woman with her infant offspring. Take the stud horse, break him for limited containment. Completely break the female horse until she becomes very gentle whereas you or anybody can ride her in comfort. Breed the mare until you have the desired offspring. Then you can turn the stud to freedom until you need him again. Train the female horse whereby she will eat out of your hand, and she will train the infant horse to eat of your hand also.

Most Black Men have no problem playing the role of stud in limited containment.  In fact, they don’t mind making boat loads of money off that persona.  This is what slave owners had planned for you.  See, they didn’t want you to stay around and be a father to your sons and daughters.  They wanted you drop your seed and move on to leave the women defenseless against their attacks.  They knew your absence would break the female completely and she would teach YOUR sons and daughters to depend on them, not you.

Back in the days of slavery, most men resisted this.  They made time and put in effort to teach their children stories and lessons of life, even though they couldn’t read, write, or afford $100 Nikes.  Even on a plantation where the child would see his father brutalized and beaten.  They understood their role and they unbent their backs and were role models in the worse of circumstance.  While there are some of those men still around, what about those that follow this script to the tee?  Your natural state is not a STUD, it’s at the head of your dinner table teaching your child to eat from your war torn hands.

That’s a shout out to all the male Hip Hop Artist that rhyme about Bitches and Hoes, then go home to your Wife and Kids.  Thanks for keeping the cycle going.

Before I jump to Black Women, I need to inject this.  When I was young, my mother was on food stamps; everyone in my neighborhood was on food stamps. LOL  When we would ask for money to go to the ice cream truck or to the store, if my mother didn’t have cash we didn’t get money.  Even though all the kids in the neighborhood used food stamps, we were not allowed.   It was a necessity for her at the time but she refused to let it become apart of who we would be. 

That’s a shout out to all the Black Women who get it done, by any and all means necessary, and don’t take any mess along the way.  You’re not alone.

To my Black Women in the Projects.   “Take the female and run a series of tests on her to see if she will submit to your desires willingly. Test her in every way, because she is the most important factor for good economics. If she shows any signs of resistance in submitting completely to your will, do not hesitate to use the bull whip on her to extract that last bit of bitch out of her.”

What’s one of the first and most important things they tell you when  you apply for Section 8 or Government housing?  You can NOT have a man living with you.  It is cause for immediate removal.  That’s the first test, are you willing to allow the Government to become the Father in your home?  If the father is a Stud in Limited Containment, the first test is easy.  Matter of fact, they make it easier if you have  a Stud in Limited Containment.  If you got a man that sticks around, then the Government wants his Social Security, W-2’s, and anything else that will break him.  That’s why there are a lot of kids running around with no Father’s name on the Birth Certificate.  Second test, will you choose the Government over your baby daddy and allow them to collect and redistribute what they think you should have?  (Notice this is very different from child support where a mother can choose where she wants to live because she is payed in CASH.  I’m talking about the Government paying you back in a welfare check, public housing, and food stamps.)

And what happens ifyou get bold and decide to get a job and save up for a car?  They knock you back down to size and threaten to take away all Benefits for Obediance.  They cut off the check, drastically reduce food stamps, and you are informed your lease won’t be renewed.  How dare you try to make it without us?  And this is not to rag or put down anyone, you know I’m right.  How are you supposed to get off welfare if every time you try, they slap you back down?  If you don’t have family or a support system, it’s almost impossible.

Unless,  For fear of the young male’s life she will psychologically train him to be mentally weak and dependent but physically strong. Because she has become psychologically independent, she will train her female offspring to be psychological independent as well. What have you got? You’ve got the nigger woman out front and the nigger man behind and scared. This is perfect situation for sound sleep and economics. Before the breaking process, we had to be alert and on guard at all times. Now we can sleep soundly, for out of frozen fear, his woman stand guard for us,  we break this cycle.

We do no service to our men allowing them to be weak.  We do more damage to our black men demanding Prada, Gucci, and Bling, than any white man could do in this day and age.  Most of us take value in our own money but have no concern on how we spend the ill gotten gains of those we say we love.  We don’t demand daddy daughter time every Saturday, we seek $60 for the club on Saturday night.  And we complain about a failing school system and a Government that doesn’t care when our children have three pair of Nikes and not a single book at home.

We are the women who stick our chest out and dare you to say something, though I LOVE that trait in us, we must make the Men come up to our level.    Our black men have no problem proving their physical strength; some cowardly men hide that lack of physical strength behind a gun but I digress.  They are not scared of standing toe to toe with a white man in a fist fight but they are threatened by seating across from them in a class room.   What is wrong with this picture?

We take our children to visit their father in Jail Cells convincing them it was the system, not the Father’s actions that landed him there.  And upon their release, “when you gonna start making money again.  I need this, I need that.” Bam, he’s right back in jail and the system is at fault.  Then when your son thinks that money is more important than an education, you wonder where you went wrong.  We must challenge our Son’s to be mentally strong.  While he’s dribbling a ball, teach him the physics of trajectory.  While he’s playing football, stress the mathematical force behind two linemen colliding. While he’s rhyming, collect books filled with Great Philosophers that encourage him to create High Quality Hip Hop, if that’s his choice. (Yes, this means you might have to teach yourself a new trick or two.  We’re smart, we can do it.) 

 So, with all that being said.  I think it’s time for a Good Ole’ Fashion Lynching.  “For example, if you put a slave in a hog pen and train him to live there and incorporate in him to value it as a way of life completely, the biggest problem you would have out of him is that he would worry you about provisions to keep the hog pen clean, or take the same hog pen and make a slip and incorporate something in his language where by he comes to value a house more than he does his hog pen, you got a problem. He will soon be in your house.”

Lynch’s theory included a time table of One Year.  If used unrelentlessly, never missing an opportunity(to quote Rahm Emanuel), this cycle will repeat itself.  So, if we spend an entire year bombarding our family,  neighbors, and friends with the plan that was meant for us and how we have fallen into it, we can be the phenomenon.  That great forces that throws a Noose around the neck of Willie Lynch’s monstrous plan, turned into a Progressive Democratic Platform.

Start here.  “… that true faith flowers from and through doubt. If you never questioned your beliefs, – you are just a puppet dancing to somebody’s strings. If God had wanted your mindless obedience, you would’ve been created without mind and without free will. But you have both so… you can come to God of your own accord. Just look at the lives of saints, – most of them had gone through a dark night of the soul, and that’s why their faith was so strong. The path to true faith always goes through doubt. So ask those questions you’ve always been afraid to ask, and find the answers, and then your faith will become unshakable.”

Their distrust in Republicans is stronger than their trust in Democrats.  Make them question that blind faith.  Do not allow them to make it about you cause it’s not.  It’s about how we currently treat each other and WHY?  Do not talk in “us” vs ‘them” because we are speaking two different languages.  They see black and white, not the elite and the rest of us.  We’re having two different conversations about the same subject and that’s why we don’t understand each other.

God Be With You and I’ll See You Back Here Next Black History Month

Did She Say That: 2010 Resolution

January 7th, 2010 | By Sonnie

Conservative Whisper

A week into the New Year and I’m still working on a resolution.  By no means am I perfect or without flaws, but this year can’t be superficial.   This years’ resolution can’t be about outside appearance, personal wants, or unrealistic expectations.

I thought I had it.  I’ve been lax on decision making.  I postpone and put off easy and simple decisions and I’m not sure why.  So I prayed on it and received a message from God via FaceBook

 God has more in store for us then we can ever predict, and what we fear are bad choices frequently turn out for the best, because our hidden aspirations know better where we are going than our rational minds.

That sounds just like me.  My mind just isn’t ready to accept what the Lord has prepared for me, all it takes is faith.  Good, Problem Solved.  Yeah right, when is anything ever that simple?   I’ve experienced the battle of inner-faith with God.  I’ve tried to walk the path I thought best and failed, and I’ve walked God’s path and found light at the end of the tunnel; faith is not my issue.

So, I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to figure out exactly what is it that prevents me from making little decisions, even though I have faith that God is by my side and his will shall be done.    So God sent me another Message via FaceBook and this time he attached a member of his army.

Happy Warriors Needed, Nadra Enzi A.K.A. Capt. Black


I wasn’t that happy warrior.  Hey, wait.  I thought I was supposed to be focused on decision making, why is there now a question of my overall attitude?  Where’s the connection?  

After a conversation with Capt. Black, this is what I realized.  We all come from different circumstances.  We may live in the same communities, experience the same situations, and battle the same demons; yet we all have a different perspective on the same journey.   This is unavoidable, lonely, and the greatest gift anyone could ever hope to receive.  We all have the ability to take the same situation and make of it what we desire.

But we have to be willing to make the tough decisions.  How can you be sure of what you desire if you’re stuck between yes or no, stay or go, to forgive or not to forgive, or any other number of small questions we delay answering?    Before you say it, I know those questions that really stick us in place aren’t small, per se.  As we contemplate the outcome they seem huge, but are they really? 

Here’s the twist.  Before you can make a decision, you have to be in control of your own mind.   This is not a question of intelligence or wisdom, more of trust.  Alot of us have faith in God, what we lack is the basic trust in ourselves.  Who knows better the truth behind your indecision?  And if you’re anything like me, a vision just popped into your head and you understand why dieting isn’t working, your business is failing,  or you continue to overspend. 

It’s that little voice in the back of your head that says, “remember last time” or “it was so much easierwhen”.   As Capt. Black pointed out, “That’s the old part of you trying to hold on for its very existence.”  And you listen to that voice becausethe person you were got you to where you are, when everyone else from the same community, the same situation, battling the same demons didn’t make it.

We forget our communities have changed, our situation altered, yet the same demons are after us.  We get stuck due to our inabilityto trust our own personal growth, even though we are self aware, confident, and guided by faith.  We are still human, faulty, and bound to pauseor delay because we just don’t know what’s on the other side.

So the 2010 Resolution for Did She Say that is…..

Trust yourself to be wise enough, strong enough, confident enough, experienced enough, to make decisions, especially the mountains you’ve made of mole hills.

Are You Better Off Now Than You Were 8 Years Ago?

August 25th, 2008 | By Sonnie

That seems to be the theme of the Barack Obama campaign. So I’m going to do the assessment of myself. Then I hope you can do the same.

On the Inside

Eight years Ago, I got to vote for the first time.

I woke up election morning excited. I was going to vote for Al Gore. He was the Vice President to the 1st black President, Bill Clinton. He was the Democrat. That’s all I needed to know.

I voted for Al Gore, without knowing anything about the Politics that came with him. I’m so ashamed to admit that but it’s nothing but truth here. I’m better off now because I NOW Pay attention to the speeches, the nuances, and judge on my belief.

Eight Years Ago, I lived in Richmond Va.

Now I love my hometown. It raised me; How could I not? But they weren’t Good lessons. Many of my friends were killed, arrested, or drug abusers. Many of my girl friends lived in Public Housing, had multiple kids, and no hope for a future.

I moved away right after I realized I voted for Al Gore. It wasn’t the fact that I voted for him. It came with the knowledge I wasn’t educating myself anymore. When I got out of High School, I let my learning come to a halt. I am better now. I keep my distance from friends and family and I really miss them sometimes; But there comes a time when you have to make a choice to move on. To take the Lessons of the Past and leave the heartache and pain behind.

Eight Years Ago, I thought I would never have a child

Not going to get into the medical stuff but my body wasn’t supposed to be able to handle carrying a child. This really didn’t bother me. I didn’t want any Babies? I planned on getting my money right then adopting big kids. 11, 12, and up.

I’m not going to tell you patience comes with child birth. It doesn’t. It takes time. But I am Better Off. I have that patience Now. But more than that, It was a total renewal of my faith in God. Everyone has heard the sermon; the doctor’s said No, but Jesus said Yes. Amen.

Eight Years Ago, I awoke everyday Uncertain

I was a mess. I got hit on all the time but with a fresh Scar on my once pretty stomach, my self esteem took a blow. My heart still burned for someone I couldn’t have, even though I knew he was poison. I had gotten the disease out of my body but it had taken my soul.

I still awake everyday uncertain. But I am Better Off. Now I awake Uncertain of what I’m going to write, but it comes out none the less. I’m uncertain if I’m being the best Mom I can be, but “I Love You Mommy” are the first words out of my daughters lips every morning. I am uncertain if I will ever get my message out, but I let that roll off my back and keep pushing forward.

The Outside

Eight Years Ago, I cared about Brand Names

No different than a typical American Youth. I wanted somebody’s name on my butt. Some cool logo on my Shoes. Some pretty design on my nails. Somebody’s hair style on my head. Some form of Gold on my neck, ears, and wrists.

Full Disclosure; I Love Shoes. Having said that. I am Better Off. I still get my hair done, but not the $150 and up styles. If I buy name brand, you better believe it’s on sale. I stopped wearing jewelry the more I saw people getting robbed. The major difference; when I started looking inside myself, I didn’t care as much about the outside.

Eight Years Ago, I had NO Credit Card Debt

At a very young age, I realized the truth about Credit Cards. My step mother had skipped a Payment and watched her interest rate double. I knew I was no good managing money, so I never applied for a credit card.

Now, I have Credit Card Debt. But I am Better Off. I invested in Myself. I wanted my own business, so I made the moves to make it happen. I don’t know everything and sometimes learning comes with a price. But I believe in myself, so I know I made a wise investment.

Eight Years Ago, I drove a 89 Nissan Sentra

It was red. It was my first Car. I hated it. My dad said if I kept my grades up, when I graduated he would buy me a car. Instead, I got a Car Payment on a Car I didn’t want. But to be fair, I graduated a year early and he didn’t have the proper time to save.

I’ve never had a brand New Car straight off the Lot. I could have, but I never really cared about a car. As long as I can get from Point A to Point B, I’m cool. Am I Better Off? I don’t have a car note.

Eight Years Ago, I lived with my Grandmother

If you ever want to feel like you have no privacy, you should live with my Grandmother. She didn’t believe in Snaking, everyone should eat together. She didn’t believe in Girls riding alone in a Car with a Boy. I Love Her To Death, but I would never want to live with her again.

Now you can tie all the above together. If I had a car note, I probably couldn’t afford Gas. If I only brought brand name clothes, I probably couldn’t pay the Mortgage. If I didn’t invest in Myself, I probably wouldn’t have Hope For My Future.

Are You Better Off?

I had a couple conversations to try to gauge the response. Nobody is better off. Oh, except all the white people that rob Blacks of their Money. The Oil Companies, The Government, and the People that Make Food. All on a mission to kill off the rest of Us Black Folk.

You are no better off. You are still complaining about what someone else is doing. Look inside and tell me have you grown? Any? Or are you on a continuous loop of the same mistakes?

Do you want to keep up with the Jones’ so much, that you don’t plan for the future?

Will you buy a house you know you can’t afford, with a flexible rate, so you can show off for a couple months?

Will you Go buy an SUV because you saw it in a Video, even though you know the price of Gas?

Will you continue to Rent and help someone else grow their portfolio?

Or in Eight Years from Now, will you look back and say I am Better Off. Not because John McCain was President. Not because Barack Obama was President. But because I took the steps to change my habits to make a better life for Myself.

If you have two Hi Def T.V.’s, an XBox 360, a Playstation 3, every pair of Jordans’ from the last 10 years; you could have brought stock with what you spent. You could have invested in starting your own business. You could have had a down payment for a house. You could have paid for your child’s first 2 years in college.

When you look at those White People that hold you back, where is their Escalade sitting on 22’s? Why aren’t they dripped from Head to Toe in Gold and Diamonds? Why do they all wear the same Khaki Pants and Polo?

It’s because they are paying the Mortgage on their Million Dollar Home. It’s because the Own A BMW, Great on Gas. It’s because the Gold they own is in the form of Notes. They don’t have to tell you they have money, but they can LAUGH ALL THE WAY TO THE BANK.


When It All Goes Wrong: Dealing With Disappointment

August 16th, 2008 | By Sonnie

We all have moments where we think everything is alright.  Money is straight. Love ones are straight. And you begin to think, I’m Okay.

Then the walls begin to crumble and you don’t know why it all starts to go wrong.

I got a little news for you.  So is life.  I’m not extremely happy right now, but I’m still looking for the point.  I know that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.  And I’m about full, so why does the onslaught continue?

All I can come up with, There is something I need to be a little stronger for.  I don’t assume to know God’s plan, but I know he loves me.  I know he watches me.

Sorry if this feels more like a journal than a blog, but I’m not going to tag this.  If you are reading this, God says help is on the way.   You are not here by mistake.  I’m writing this because this is not the first time I’ve felt this way, but it is the first time I felt the need to share it.  To let my own vulnerabilities show you it’s okay.  I’ll be here tomorrow, filling the internet with my thoughts, with a smile.

I hope this helps.  I don’t know who needed to hear this, but just writing it makes me feel better.  And maybe my day went so bad, so I had to write this.  So you could read this.  I’m telling you, THE LORD IS GOOD.

$100 Million Man: Black Poverty

July 31st, 2008 | By Sonnie

A man wins $100 Million Dollars.  He decides to build a big house, and let’s all his unemployed friends move in with him.  He offers them food, help with their education, and a nice place to live. His friends are pleased, so what ever he says, they agree.

The $100 Million Dollar Man is a good friend.  He doesn’t push them to work, because they’ve had tough lives and deserve a break.  They just chill out all day, enjoying the free stuff.  Some of the $100 Million Dollar Man’s employed friends realize if they quit their mediocre jobs, they could live in the big house for free.  So, they quit.

One of the unemployed stumbles upon a good job, with benefits.  He’s excited, only to find out he has to move out of the Big House.  The man doesn’t understand why his friend won’t help him, when he’s trying to help himself.  He decides the bumps and bruises are worth it and moves out.

Conditions inside the house deteriorate.  The free stuff starts to run out, the tenants start wanting more, and the $100 Million Dollar Man is running out of cash.  The tenants decide it’s time to move on.  They begin packing. Right when they are about to leave, another $100 Million Dollar Man shows up.

He says stay.  I’ll take care of you. I’ve got more free stuff, and you have gone through so much, you deserve a break.  The people agree and return to the big house.  No changes are made and conditions in the house continue to get worse.

The friend that found a job, came back to visit.  He noticed the outside of the house didn’t look as tempting as it once did.   He goes inside to check on his friends.  And there they were; all in the same place where he had left them.  He found his best friend and asked him how he was?  His friend said, We’ve been done so wrong, this is the only safe place for us.

The man thought about his travels around the world, the property he owned, and the life he had built for himself.  He looked at his friend and said ‘If you leave the Big House, a world of opportunity would open up to you.’  His friend looked back and said, “Is there free stuff?”

The man looked back at his friend and said NO.  “You have to work for it, but boy is it worth it.   Not  depending on another man for your lively hood is an amazing feeling.”

“Your a sellout.  You could be here with us chilling, instead you want to go out with all those white people.  You sure done changed.”

The man realized it was pointless and left.  He returned to his life, and never looked back.

The End

<em><strong>The Characters</strong></em>

$100 Million Dollar Man was played by every politician that says “You’re black, you can’t do it yourself, let’s let someone else pay for it.”

The Big House is Public Housing

Free Stuff is very low rent, food stamps, and checks

2nd Million Dollar Man came at re-election.

Career Man was played by those black people that make it out, then think it pointless trying to help those left behind.

<em><strong>Question Motives</strong></em>

Did you ever ask yourself why Democrats are always pushing for more Public Services, not better Public Services?  They flush money into food stamps, public housing, and minor checks, instead of health care, community programs, and faith based groups that actually work in the communities.

If someone was constantly giving me more incentive to stay poor, I’d question it.  Why would you immediately cut off my food stamps when I get a job?  At least let me save a little first.  Why would you kick me out of my apartment, before I have money for a down payment at a new one?  Why would you give me more money for more children, but won’t offer any money to help me with childcare for the kids I already have?

It’s a real easy answer.  To get your vote, next time.  Politicians promise you change with more more programs, but when they take affect, most people who need them find out it doesn’t apply to them.  So the politician says next time we’ll fit you in.  They do, but squeeze another group out of the equation.  There is no progress, and our people suffer because of it.

Black Poverty exists because we allow it.  No one is going to invest in us, if don’t find ourselves worthy of it.  And constantly electing people to office that preach “We’ll do it for you” proves we don’t find ourselves worthy.  We got the money.  Some of us are making bank, but even those people won’t give money with no hopes of a return.  And I’m not talking revenue, I’m talking appreciation.

Russell Simmons: Don’t Blame the Rappers, Fix the Problems

July 26th, 2008 | By Sonnie

I think I nailed the equation to our problems, Black Family Breakdown + Excuses Excuses Excuses + Refusal to Integrate = The Black Plight.

Now there are few other things I want to get off my chest.

Somebody is to blame for the breakdown of HIP HOP.

Now there can only be a few culprits, so lets do a little break down.

The Artist

Just like an NFL quarterback, the Artist catch most of the flack in Hip Hop. Just like a NFL quaterback gets all the credit in victory. Is it fair? Not always, but if the quarterback threw 5 interceptions, your assessment would be dead on.

Music is a money making industry, so to be successful you have to generate buzz. The problem is most artist today don’t use creative ideas to get their name out. Instead the opt for the same path that lead other artist to success. Sex, Money, Drugs, and Violence.

Now Russell Simmons says you can’t blame the Rapper because he’s just painting a picture of what he sees. A few questions.

Are there no black women in the Hood with morals?

I know there are, because I was one. Where are the rappers the can tell a black woman they are beautiful, without being loose. Tupac did it. Niggas respected him even though he had respect for woman. Yes he had a video or two with women, but rarely were the women the main focus. And when there were the main focus, he gave us strength, respect for ourselves, and hope that some black men out there still have respect for us.

Are there no black men that chose not to hustle and make it.

Yes there are. For all my brothers doing your thing despite the cards dealt to you. There are no words for what I feel for you. Keep it up. Where is there voice? Eminem carries that voice. It might come from a white person, but it’s a every color struggle. What about those that never want to sell crack? That find other legit ways to make it out? Where is the song about them. Most rappers fit into that category. It’s just when the get famous they become Crack Selling Kings.

Are there no Mother’s and Father’s who stories should be told

Is there not one rapper who’s father was there for him? Is there not one rapper that got some girl pregnant and had to change his life not to repeat the same mistakes with there own child? Yes. The tell their stories on reality shows, magazine articles, and web pages. Then they put out songs that say just the opposite.

The Higher Ups

Now this includes radio, T.V., and Record Labels. They have the power, that’s plain and simple. They can control what we hear, when we hear it, and how many times we hear it. What we need to understand, they have to have a product to sell.

If Artists can agree Hip Hop is in trouble, especially when Soulja Boy is nominated for BEST RAP song, then they can all put out music that inspires some form of change. Do you have to take the violence out, No. Make it important that songs with value get the same airplay as the bling’d out songs do.

They don’t have as much power as you would think. No Product, No Business.

I have to add one more thing here. Commercializing Rap. This is not a bad thing. That’s were the money is. The problem comes when there are no truly talented people with a real message, and they have to take the most watered down on the crap.

The Fan

We are the real culprits. We should shoulder most of the blame.

Artist will try to make the music that sells. The Higher Ups will promote music that sells. The fans decide what music sells.

Women stop going out and buying Ludacris because you like one song, even though you know you’ll be called a ho on all the other songs. And yes he means you. Because he would throw money at your ass the same way he would anyone else.

If you have a young daughter, how can you spend a dime on R. Kelly. Seriously. At 16 did I think I knew what I was doing? Yes. Would I blame someone else for the decisions I made? No. But as a grown woman, I look to blame R. Kelly. Why? Because he is a grown man. Plan and simple. He could have any grown woman he wanted, yet he goes after little girls. That is Nasty.

More than that. We have to up our standards. Stop buying C.D.’s until they start to question why sales are hurting so much. Stop watch 106 and Park, TRL, and the likes, until they start to question why no one watched videos anymore.

They will come to us asking how can they get our Business back. And we can say, “GIVE US HIP HOP BACK”. We want the lyrics you have to listen to four or fives time to get it. We want females that spit fire, without showing their ass. We want our culture in commercials, but not when it depicts only the worst aspects of our culture. We want music that not only paints where we are, but where we’re going and how we are going to get there.

They would listen because we have the money to make them listen. Without us, they are nothing. And if we continue to do nothing, we’ll be the blame for the fall of HIP HOP.

A Black Man’s Words

July 19th, 2008 | By Sonnie

Word spoken from my Father’s drunken lips

Eclipse any words spoken by another

Given the Source

You’d think I’d enforce, a notion to rediscover

If the facts He’d teach and the words He’d preach

Would help me to reach, his destinatioon

Maybe a Black Man’s Word isn’t for me

But it’s what I see

Lose in excuses, traumatized by abuses




Those are a Black Man’s Words

They cause




Eventually total Annihilation

Not in existence

But in dreams

Cuz I’m here, A Black Man

Lost in excuses, traumatized by abuses

Standing in front of you with words

And Dreams

Dreams filled with




Leading to an Allocation of Hope

That’s all I have

Hopes, Dreams, and a Black Man’s Words

This is a short from my Stage Play.

Hands from the Darkness

June 17th, 2008 | By Sonnie

With darkness surrounding me, I try to climb

Willing myself, pushing already strained muscles,

Not expecting a hand to reach down and pull me up

Not expecting hands to reach from the darkness

And pull me back, but them come

Reaching out for my soul, forcing the load on my back

To double in weight

Shouts come, barely audible, but so loud

Understanding words, that make no sense combined

Understanding pain, so misdirected

What did I do so wrong?

I see bitterness and anger,


I see a way out

Light at the end of a road so dark

Sunshine piercing the night hues so common

No force beside gravity affects my ability to reach

Gravity can weigh me down

Problems will present themselves

But crumble at my WILL

Hands from the darkness are my biggest problem

Those that would block me by pulling me down

Instead of reaching up for themselves

Gladly would I fight for Pole Position

Never should I have to fight

Hands from the darkness to get to the light


June 3rd, 2008 | By Sonnie

The moment someone mentions faith, those who don’t believe have something to say. Yet, they have faith that their government will protect their speech.

Faith is important. Knowing you can accomplish something when all signs point to failure, faithful. Having that faith and letting the world see you wear it as a badge of honor, priceless.

“I always admired Atheists. I think it takes a lot of faith.” Northern Exposure1991