Chivalry isn’t dead, it isn’t sick, it isn’t even injured. It’s tired. It’s tired of being taken for granted and constantly taking spit to the face. It’s in hiding. It’s has decided that it will only rear it’s head when it will be appreciated and I don’t blame it. Nobody likes being under-appreciated, called names, nor being disrespected. Chivalry is not thirst, game, deceit, or putting on, it’s a moral and honor code to basically be at the very least a decent human being. Dassit!
This double standard is just childish. Guys definitely gossip, just as much, if not more than the ladies. It’s a simple as some PEOPLE just cannot contain information. It doesn’t help that we live in a time of transparency because all social media and reality TV does is make people feel comfortable with exposing their inner most secrets (and others’ as well). Now usually I don’t completely hate gossip, because it can bring about great conversations, but the fact that random people come up to me and expel their personal business is just too much for me.
A gentleman came up to me the other day and began a conversation with me. I was taught common courtesy and manners, so I listened politely. I was not ready to be bombarded with stories about his brother, the bum, and his mother, the drug dealer, and his cousin, the serial cheater. I don’t know what it is about me that makes complete strangers want to tell me so much about their personal lives, but it’s getting creepy. I only care to listen to the details of close friends and acquaintances because at least then, I have a history of how they live their lives, so it’s more of a television show/novel and not just a trailer to a movie I’ll never see.
I am fully capable of being a woman and doing the things that make me happy and I am also capable of being in a relationship and making sure that my man is well taken care of, but just because I am very much so capable of being in a relationship (better than a lot of people I know in a relationship) I’m not. I have all the qualities that most men look for in a mate (I can cook, clean, great conversation, I’m cute, parent’s love me, I’m interesting, and I give great massages) and I’ve had more than my fair share of offers, yet I’m single. Why? Well there’s a few reasons and the main one being that I don’t like non-meaningful relationships. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend and from that one relationship that didn’t even last a year I learned a lot about myself and how I see and value relationships. After a few women empowerment conferences I was able to cultivate those experiences into my likes, dislikes, deal breakers, and things I can compromise on. I know that these are fine for my early twenties and that they may change as I grow older, but right now I hold these truths to be self-evident.
Closed minded guys
Guys with no goals
Bad taste in music (I know this is petty, I do not care at the moment)
I may add to the list, but I’m pretty sure I won’t take away from the list. I’m one of those people who believes in the art of courting and I don’t care for relationships that act as place holder relationships. I don’t care about any title but the Wife title, so I’m completely OK with “dating” “courting” “going steady” because until you can see yourself having a future with me, and me reciprocating that, we don’t need any permanent (boyfriend/girlfriend) attachments. I want a mate who I can build an empire with, raise children with, grow old with, and really I just someone who will compliment me and be willing to stick around and rebuild after the storm hits. I’m not looking for a man free of flaws, just someone who’s flaws are worth loving. I want to be a loving and supporting wife for my future husband so I believe that me abstaining from meaningless relationships that will scar me aren’t worth it in the long run. I’m practicing delayed gratification because I’m a loyal woman and I’d like to stay that way so when the right person comes along, he’ll get the woman he deserves.
Growing up, I didn’t have friends. I had classmates, I had teammates, I had a strong associate or two, but nobody that fit into what I now define as a “great friend”. My freshman year of college I gained true friends. The “I will sing to you and be silly on your birthday to cheer you up friends,” the I’ll go to class for you when you’re sick and take your notes so you won’t miss anything important friends” “the I call your mom, mom” friends and most importantly the “I will hold you accountable for your actions and let you know when you’re tripping” friends. Not only that, they care (sometimes to a fault). We are vested in one another. We don’t always agree, we don’t have the same taste in men, and we all love tequila. We all come from very different middle class American homes and span the board in the areas of social justice, politics, entertainment, and being a decent human being, yet somehow we make it work. I think most of this stems from respecting that people you love may have different opinions than you, but you should take that opportunity to get a new perspective. It’s humbling at times because you can be so against something and never realize that that very things can work wonders for another person’s situation. I’ve come to terms with so many things that I was “morally against” in the past few years and I’m glad that I have. Coming into college I had very conservative views on abortion, the female body, politics, etc. and it never occurred to me that I could be wrong. Boy, was I wrong. I would describe my views as moderate now, and that would not have happened had it not been for my friends. I’m grateful for great friends, not only because I actually have friends, but also because of how much they’ve taught me. I guess those years I spent friendless were the years that helped me cultivate myself and make sure that I could be a great friend to the great friends that would come into my life. I’m glad I had that time to prepare myself because because of my friends, I feel as though I am more of a decent human being, and at the end of the day that’s what counts.
Congrats on graduating from that hell hole today. And good job on not crying too! Your dad will realize when you turn 23 how much of your life you missed out on, and for some reason, seeing that regret in his eyes will make these feeling obsolete. College is going to be great, you’ll be blessed with more great friends than you ever thought possible and you mad a great decision going to southern. The hard times will be hard, you’ll get through them though. They’ll give you really bad anxiety and subsequent asthma, but you’ll get through. Those great friends that you’ll make will stand by your side through it all, all of them will. That’s how you know they are your true friends. Share more of yourself with people. College will be different from high school, these are the people are more like you. Be yourself, people will love you. Now, you’re not going to have the best mentor, but this will drive your innovation. You will be able to be a great mentor for so many other people and that will help you come to terms with not having had that groundwork. Mentoring will change your life, let it. It will make you a better person, let it. Don’t block these blessings. Your future ex-boyfriend will not be worth the tears, but you’ll cry about him anyway. He’s a great guy, just not great for you. Don’t let him make you bitter, use that time to discover yourself and don’t listen to what your peers are telling you and jump into another relationship. Take the time to heal yourself so that your next relationship can have the opportunity to flourish. You’ll stop doing what you love for a while, but get back to it. Painting and writing keep you sane. When you dye your hair purple, it will be your favorite, but you will only have it for 3 days, and you won’t have any good pictures of it. Just let it be. There will be this boy, he will change your entire perception on the opposite sex, you will be so engulf with how he makes you feel that you won’t know how to deal with it. You will run. Once you have had time to put things into perspective, you will see that running away was you being scared that you could actually be in love with him. We’re still trying to figure this one out, but just know that what is meant to be will be. You’ll make a decision that has to be edited due to circumstance, remember to change the route and not the destination. Be strong young cupcake, you will have people on your side, use them. Mwah! Love you!
I’m a member of a D9 sorority because I believe in uplifting the (black) community. It used to be that being Greek was an esteemed accomplishment because not only did you hold a post secondary degree, but you had over come other obstacles and joined a Greek lettered organization in which the mission is the help others achieve the same if not more than you have. But because we life in a time of instant gratification and looking out only for self, people have skewed the honor that it is to be a member of a Greek organization. Here is a short list of the type of Greeks I don’t care for and will never be cool with.
1. The my letter made me Greeks (you’re popular because of your letters, I couldn’t care less)
2. The Greeks that think everything and everyone is “sus” “paper” etc. (we weren’t all brought in the same way and there are more important things to be worried about GET A LIFE)
3. The Greeks who go Greek just to be “popular” (Just Bye!)
4. The Greeks who only want to tell you how hard they pledged (I don’t care, that doesn’t make you a better person, when was the last time you did real community service and paid dues? I’ll wait)
5. The Greeks who can’t talk about anything but their org and Greek life (shut the entire f*ck up, you’re not even a neo anymore)
6. Greeks who think that they are invincible because they pledged (you took wood, that does not mean that you won’t die doing dumb things)Life is about balance. Allow Greek life to mold you into an upstanding member of society, not the annoying neighbor.
Fed up with your shenanigans
I know this is a silly post, because I’ll be the first one to roll my eyeballs to my occipital lobe when a girl who just cut her hair cries about how much she misses it, but hear me out.
I have GREAT hair.
I’ve pretty much done everything that you can do to hair and then some, but I take great care of it and it always grows back stronger and more resilient. (Just like me, but that’s a rabbit hole I won’t take just yet). My hair is soft and curly, manageable on most days, but the bad days are scarf and hat days. I even wore modesty (a hijab) one day.
I do a lot to my hair, I think, because it’s something that I feel completely in control of. I control the input, function, and output and I love it. I’ve always felt like things happened to me and I never got a say in the matter. Such is life, but I have found that being able to manipulate something in my life keeps me from the bottle (non-turn up purposes) and keeps me sane. being a Generation Y twenty-something recent college grad has been Topsy turvy. My hair shouldn’t need to be added to the equation. Except my vendetta against split ends gets in the way.
So one day I was feeling particularly angry with my hair and I saw shears on sale fore $15. I quickly googled reviews on this item and it passed my standards on hair products. As soon as I could get away from the check out lady, looking at me suspiciously about my purchase, I sped home and began my next hair adventure. 2 hours later, I was pleased with myself, I wrapped my hair and went to sleep. I knew I’d achieved greatness when my coworker dropped her jaw staring at me the next morning. What was weird though is everyone loved it, it was a very androgynous cut that I had been wanting to try for a while and everyone from my mother to my neighbor’s dog continued to let me know how much they loved it. I had that style for a couple of months. Last week, I cut my hair low again and then dyed it a very light blonde. Because of my recent tan I thought it looked a little off, but in came the rave reviews once more. I love short hair because it’s easy to do when you don’t life doing your hair all the time, but now I want hair. I as much as I love short hair, I love big hair. I need to get this together.
The phrase: “The Struggle” has been in my vocabulary for about 4 years now. My friends and use this phrase (mostly) to discuss the inability to refrain from doing something or someone you know that you should. Not that you will regret it, but that it is probably in your best interest not to do it. It is also used to describe annoyingly trying situations that people go through from time to time. The struggle is mostly something that is hard to resist of get away from and refer to the following situations:
1. Wanting to have sex with someone you know you shouldn’t because it’s great sex, but they’re not the person you should be fornicating with
3. Not finishing your work/homework/project/lesson plans etc.
4. And just any situation where you feel as though your time and energy needs not be wasted listening to people, doing things, or getting out of bed
*Honorable mention: getting out of bed
The Struggle is real… Struggle chronicles coming soon…
One of my best friends/ college roommates were student leaders and mentors in college. After graduation I went into the job market and she continued on to graduate school. She was afforded the opportunity to become the Graduate Assistant over the program we had mentored with during undergrad. I was genuinely excited for her. It was a great fit.
One day a couple of months ago, as I was sitting on a bench in the rain waiting for a graduation to be over because I knew no one graduating, I received a tweet from one of my beloved MAPees (mentee). It said something about me getting an award and I was definitely confused. Then I received several more tweet followed by two phone calls. I became immediately afraid something had happened. I returned the call and Amani shrieked on the other end about how she’s won several awards and they were all for me.
“Whett?” was my response.
“Hold on Stella wants to talk to you” she babbled back
“I would like to let you know that the Superior Mentor award has been renamed in your honor”
“Yes, but it is loud in here so I’ll tell you more later, bye!”
They named an award after me. My best friend and my favorite and most influential supervisor had an award named after me! In so many ways this is much better than never having received MAP sponsor of the year any of the 4 years I mentored. I became a MAP sponsor because my friends made MAP seems so cool, so I signed up only to get the most non-caring, non-considerate MAP sponsor ever (although I worked with some who could have easily been just as bad). After a struggle ass freshmen year, I decided that I would become a MAP sponsor and make sure that any freshman I came in contact with had someone to confide in, keep it real with them, and cared enough about them to help them make it to graduation day. I had two MAPees that graduated in 3 and 1/2 years. 7 that graduated in 4. Seeing them graduate made me so happy because I knew their personal struggles and what they have to endure and overcome to see their commencement ceremony. I thought back to every Eagles In Diversity award ceremony I sat through and heard other mentors names called because of their work effort, and how hurt I was about that never being me and it seemed asinine. I don’t regret feeling the way I felt, because my feelings were warranted, but I realized that I didn’t get those awards because a bigger “award” was coming. It made me cry. I was truly touched and even more so that one of my 3rd generation MAPees was the very first recipient. Now I just hope they spell my name right.
My parents used to tel me this AWLL the time growing up. They both used to speak to me in riddles and it would piss me of to no end because I had no idea what the hell they were talking about. Then they would follow up with: You’re going to thank me for this one day. I do, people get frustrated with me some times because in the middle of a conversation I will spout out one of my parents’ array of sayings.
I learned the meaning of this scripture in particular just the past few years. Now I mentor people (I’m actually pretty decent at it too) and at the beginning of every year I tell them things knowing they will ignore me, only to come back to me at the end of the year to tell me how right I was. I nod politely. I’m used to that working, so I tried it on a friend and it backfired. The friend came to me for advice, I gave them this great advice (I took it myself a few times), and they disregarded my advice only to come and complain to me when it did not work out in their favor. I finally got fed up and de-friended them. I realized that one, they were a bad friend to me, and two, they were subtracting the value from me life, so when that situation arose for the 5th time I parted ways.
During my weekly reflection, I realized that it was indeed a good decision on my part. For two and a half years I had been trying to help this person when they sought advice from me, but never have they actually done anything with the jewels I was placing before them. Taking my jewels and walking away from the table was liberating and I smiled because I had finally understood one of the riddles my parents always spoke in.