HANGINGwith the folks... childhood memories...

Ok, first off, it's late and everyone is sleeping.
It's nice. The house is quite.
Think I'll say hi to Loving Pecola, Maxjulian, sweetness, Freeslave, and others for the generative exchanges over at 1TBM. I read, I appreciate everyone putting their feelings out there.
Today, I picked up Stinkapee from school. We went for a walk, ended up in a cafe where told me more about her experiences in the class room. She had a streamed vanilla creme, practiced her spelling words, and read from her dictionary. Then we went for dinner at a neigbourhood diner, went for a swim at the community centre, and walked home. DD had checked in with us to see how we were doing, and after hearing that we were going swimming - offered to make some dinner too - you use a shit load of energy when you swim.

Shomlee, the 19 month old was in great spirits when we got home, as was DD. She was cooking chicken stew on brown rice - smelt amazing. I did some work on the computer, while Stinkapee did work on her computer, and Shomlee sang songs with DD in the kitchen as she created her masterpiece. We hung out with the kids, until Stinkapee got tired, and went off to bed. ( Just so you know - this description of the two of us, as a mother/father pairing is not our ideal by any means. I would really like to have another partner in our family. I think it would lovely to be able to responsibly and ethically love and share experiences with another person. We are working on this, but that is beyond the scope of this entry.)

DD, came back downstairs, and I started to talk about my family. I was recalling how I spent my childhood with my parents - and thinking about the connections they maintained and why. I thought about how deliberate it was, but how I didn't understand it that way. DD suggested that my mother stayed in touch with some family partly because it was important to maintain family ties - in fact, she did this much more than my father. I can't recall him ever organizing a family outing. He simply wasn't invested in that from my view. This is a piece (among many pieces) that I have taken from my childhood and brought into my adulthood. I think everything will just fall into place, cause it did for my father, even though it was my mother who did it.

And going to these family events largely seemed performative. Meaning - it was us saying: here we are - the family - "perfect and happy." What I mean to say is, we would arrive, everyone would say their pleasantries. Some food would be served, and eventually the conversation would go to academia and race. My folks are academics, and they love to talk all there academia speak. The conversation would, as far as I could see, never head in any emotional direction. No one ever talked about what they were feeling, or how they actually felt about anything.
Sometimes it would get lively with jokes (at each others' expense in the room) or sometimes, they would talk about race - but this was tricky, because many in my mother's family, say her siblings were in severe denial about anything racial whatsoever. I can re-call hearing: "if you just work hard everything will be fine." Often she would get into shouting matches over quotes like that one. My father, would fall asleep and I would just want to go home.

But home was really difficult for me too. My brother lived there and he was physically abusive to me all the time. My parents, could not deal with his violence - I believe it triggered them around their parents. My brother would attack me mostly when my folks weren't around, starting when I was about 8 and lasting far into my teens. I think around 16, I started to take martial arts, and so the attacks when down - and instead my family home became a cold war zone - were at any moment, a huge explosive release would unfold.
One time, in the middle of the night the moment arrived.

SITTING IN A CAFE, BEING SERVED WITH MY SON, WHILE THE WHITE WOMEN BABY MAMAS ARE IGNORED

I was just visiting 1TBM and read what annakiss
and DD were talking about. No - I think this "movement" isn't working for anyone. Even the affluent white women in a neighbourhood DD and I used to live in would walk with a sense of entitlement - trying to run me off the sidewalk with their BMW strollers, and $9 lattes.

One time, I was with Shomolee - when he was 4 months. We were sitting in a Starbucks. The cafe had about 4 of those mamas - and every staff person at the place was ignoring them and their babies, and coming up to us. You should have seen the look on their faces as the servers asked me what I wanted, AND BROUGHT IT TO ME, said it was on the house, and got me a paper too. I know their actions were rooted in patriarchy. And maybe in a fantasy I called the staff on this, but not for these women. Women who would never ally with me. WOmen who would call the police on my Black ass in a second. White women who are angry with their husbands - for being fucking assholes - and looking to take it out on me. No. NO. I just sat, enjoyed my coffee and the Shomolee.

The 4 baby mamas were ignored all together.

After a while, it became to much for one she had to come over. She tired to passive aggressively state that Shomolee was small for his age. (He was over 10 pounds at birth) I didn't engage. I knew what was going on.

Really, it's clear that this "happy birthing beings/ in touch and in control/ and happy birthing beings" is a big big lie. This was an example I remember with the affluent white women I used to live near.

CAPTAIN... she's totally awesome...

I CAN FALL ASLEEP WHILE listeningTO YOU and on a loud nightclub speaker

When I was over at my aunt's place, I noticed something that I really didn't connect with . Sleep. And I mean a lot of it. I grew up around people, and visited people that always fell asleep while you were on the phone with them, talking to them, or while watching TV. And no one, including Ophelia EVER actually admitted to falling as sleep. IT was always, "I'm resting my eyes.." or "I'm not sleeping, I'm just dozing" or "You just thought I was sleeping, but really you were imagining things." This last one is my personal fave!

FUCK.

It sounds kind of funny, but really, I am stuck in the truth of having fallen asleep in som many odd situations, leading right up to - in conversation with DD. I have scratched my own head, thinking to myself - did I really fall asleep? Oh DD would say .. you sure did - "and who do you think you are to just fall asleep... without warning me or anything, AND the deny it!"

While we were at my aunt's house a week back or so, DD noticed in conversation with one of my aunts, and through her actions that auto-sleep, as I like to call it, is all over my family.

I know I used sleep and making myself fall asleep for difficult situations.. like being attacked as a child, or more accurately - after- waiting, no one would come, I would crawl into a ball and go to sleep - hoping when I woke up, all would be better.

It never was.

I still try and use this auto-sleeping today, in the wrong places... I'm no longer that little boy...
... in fact, I think I need to write a post about sleep, being up late, fear, and worling a lot...

In the mean time...

I went reading my older posts. I'd like to link to an older post about what I did in 2006 to try and move some of this stuff. This year I's like to re-visit the men's group, and also re-visit the idea of starting my own. Going to go now... but not to fall asleep.

WELCOME to the new seminalson - and thank-you to 1TBM for the redesign...

I have to say, voices in my head are saying: who the hell are you to have all these pictures of yourself up... - and I have to say to myself, "I deserve it. I love myself, I love my family, I deserve to have a quality ... thanks to 1TBM - DD for this. Need to keep bloggin!

WE HAD MY FOLKS OVER FOR NEW YEAR'S DAY...dad truths..

I could really see - or actually, was not able to hide from my dad's madness. Both he and my mom are quite a mixture. First though, I must tell you what we ate.. (sorry no pix) The vegetables: sweet potatoes with butter, and a hint of kosher salt. Rappini, boiled slightly and then pan fried briefly in butter (I really like butter!), basmati brown rice, monk fish, beef briskette - really fucking good, and for dessert: a cookie assortment... real good...

MY god, DD points out, and I can see where the heck I get some of my odd ways... "I don't like this" and "I don't like that" and "can you get me this, can you get me that.." "I'm too busy... sitting here.." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

DD makes a good point that I hate to admit is true, but it is... I have a lot to learn from taking care of him. "IT's good for the Shomlian to see - after all, these are your people.. I told her I didn't like doing it.. cause it felt like.. .. "WOMAN'S WORK?" - she said.

Sadly, I said yes.
But it is true.
I remember, him asking me to do stuff in our family house, and I hated it. Granted, I hated the fact that he and the other one let did little to NOTHING to address my abuse... but then he still wanted me to fitch his TEA? Are you fucking MAD?

But if I look closer... I didn't mind doing stuff for good ol' Mom, even though she is and was equally to blame for what went on.

More in a moment.

JUST saw the Brit sitcom- Keeping Up Appearances

The clip I want you guys to watch is actually from another sitcom called "Hyacinth and Auntie". I just wanted to lay some context as to the kind of people I come from when I talk about having seen my aunts and family over the holidays. MY mother, Ophelia is not exactly like this (she has her own odd ways), but the rest her family is.. and that is who I grew up with... CLICK HERE TO WATCH what I'm talking about. Just watch how the colonized Black woman, is critiquing the white Brit woman, and over identifying with conservative white British customes... I know, this is suppose to be comedy - it is suppose to be edgy and over the top.. but sadly: It's BANG ON! THIS IS THE FAMILY CULTURE OF MY YOUTH. It is also the culture of many of the west Indians living in this city...

Being seen VISITING MY AUNTS AND EXTENEDED FAMILY OVER THE HOLIDAYS

It was a strange feeling, going over to my cousin's house and then my aunt. They actually seemed plesant, and dare I say it.. nice. Maybe it was because I had not been there - or really communicated with any of them for over a year.. in fact .. probably over 2 or 3 or even 4 years. I never really felt the need.
I grew up seeing them, spending time with them... specifically my aunts.. women dominate my family.. (there just weren't many boys...)
Visiting them this last time, I felt like they were taking me seriously... I figured: showing up with two (extremely beautiful, well behaved, bright and happy) children might do that.
So,what does it mean to actually care what they think? It means that a piece of me is still stuck in my childhood state.. my little boy is saying... seeeee! I am grown up..... nah nah nah nah....
I also found myself enjoying talking to them - we didn't talk about anything in particular...
although I got to see them pass jabs to one another. And one of them, is as evil as ever - even while obviously being really, really sad and lonely. I see pieces of me in all of them.

I had some body memories, while talking to them - about my trips to Barbados, and the different good times I had. Some of the stories they told about me, and my particular ways - reminded me of Stinkapee.

Home fun

SNEEKING TO EAT CAKE....
Stinkapee and I thought it might be fun to bake a cake. I've been talking about making a cake with her for a long time. So yesterday, we decided to make "French Vanilla" heart cake - and today we we going to ice it with chocolate frosting.

Stinkapee did really well in getting all the ingredients, and mixing everything together.

She is so amazing.

This morning, we were suppose to finish our activity by frosting the cake, but she woke up before me, went downstairs - and into the fridge... and had a little six year old breakfast snack...
Gotta love that...

Good thing we made 2 cakes... we still got the other one to cover in chocolatey icing goodness...

STALK MUCH? i got a comment for a person saying they 'saw' me sleeping/ defenseless/ vulnerable...on the subway train...

I asked myself.. is this person trying to say.. we know who you are... i'm watching you...?
obviously you feel like you know who I am, but you weren't comfortable enough to attach your blog (if you have one) or your name ...

i would call you sad.. but it's more odd/ strange/ more than anything...

The Spirit of Giving PART 2

Ok, so my plan was to make little cards and hand them out to homeless people in out neighborhood for this upcoming holiday season. The cards would have 15 or 20 bucks in it. It has gotten so cold over the past months with daily high hovering around the 5-6 degree mark. (Not sure the 'F' degree equivalent) - but cold.

DD thought it was a nice gesture, but wanted to have conversation as to why I thought they would be interested in a "card" from a stranger. I said, I thought it would be nice to give them "something" - which DD thought was interesting. She wondered why I thought they would want a card. Who told me that? She suggested that cards had to do with a certain kind of familiarity, that I don't have - regardless of the fact that I walk past some of these people every day. She wondered why I just didn't give them the money - .. after all, is it about me simply giving to a homeless person - and allowing them to be off... OR do I need to feel special for having given them a card, along with the 20 bucks.

My reaction to her probe was to feel angry. I mean, here I was - thinking about others for a change, and all she can do is rain on my parade. But then I started to think about my reasons for handing out the cards.

I had pictured in my mind, the few people I was going to give these cards out to as being like: oh thank-you... NO Way! you shouldn't have... a CARD- for me??? No?!!!
And if I'm honest with myself, and trust me, I have trouble with that one some times, I know that there is a piece of me that wants to be looked at like: "now that is a powerful and amazing man who really does great things." I want to feel stroked and appreciated.

But, after reflecting more, not like this. The reflection did take a bit of time. I think I'm classist, and think there is a part of me who believes that the homeless people in my neighborhood should be greatful for whatever they get - and SUPERgrateful if a complete stranger goes the extra mile to give them a gift. It's that damn picking order. I hate that!

The Spirit of Giving

I was outside on our back deck having a puff (I think cause I have 1 or 2 a day I'm not really addicted - sad, I know.. ) and it was 3 degrees - or 40F, for you Americans, and I was thinking about for the holiday season and the new year, giving some homeless people cards with 10 or 20 dollars inside...
which raised an interesting point when I mentioned it to DD. She said:

Reloaded II... here it is!

Everyone, enjoy the reads.
Thx DD!

incredible juju's i'm back to

feminist allies' chicks dig feminists
seminalson's so daddy will you dance with your son
birth pangs' why stop at alcohol?

darkdaughta's blog for choice kindergarten style

angry pissed off ungrateful little transracially abducted mutherfuckers from hell
what is a men's movement?

NORTH AMERICAN UNION: Security and Prosperity

I really like Coffee House Studio, thank-you for getting me on to this. Watch this feature video, of the NATIONAL, from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
Pay attention to what SECURITY AND PROSPERITY means.

It's coming.
Watch.


And apparently the "lovely folks of the US" aren't paying attention cause no one seems to know, or care. And the BUSH administration likes it that way! Hell. even the reporter on the story is shocked! From the Cable News Network. Watch.

AND NOW THE CONTINUATION.....EVERYONE CHOOSES HOW THEY ARE GOING TO BE PROGRESSIVE: what choice will I make?

You know, I was on set today thinking about my life. When I work - I spend a lot of time talking to people and talk and talk they do. People on set often think that because they are paid lots of money.. they're smart. They aren't.

I came home this evening and DD told me about they day she had with our Stinkapee. The cloth menstrual pad.. i have to stop here now cause I'm actually exhausted and want to write.. i'll be back around 5:30 to continue.. must sleep...

_____________________________________________

So, I wrote that back on Thursday and I haven't choosen to come back to my blog until now. It is early Sunday morning. I was reading the post that DD made about the conversation she had with Stinkapee around menstruation. Okay, first of all, it has taken men quite a bit to actually get to the point of writing this. I had to go into my memory banks, fight my learned "fear of the vagina", visit some websites, fight more fear and angst, do some more deep breathing - truly - quite sad - me - the parent and care-giver of a girl child and boy child, actually being really timid about period blood.

Sad.

But, can't stay there. I have a lot of parenting to do, and I'm not gonna get it done by resting on my ass and complaining... and trust me... I really do love to do that ... ok?

I think part of what has happened to me is around violence and blood and remembering that growing up - those two went hand in hand. And the memories scare me. Add to that, the fact that there was no conversation about the female body WHATSOEVER in my the family home I grew up in - and you have a recipe for .. wait for it: ignorance.

But, Stinkapee is growing up fast, and very shortly, to be blunt - she and the fatty boy are going to looking at me like: you have no credibility. And that just won't do.

Over on darkdaughta's site, Stinkapee was exclaiming about how excited I'll be to see her new cloth menstrual pad. Isn't that beautiful. She's excited about it, and thinks I will be too. The truth: I can be excited. I just need to take my head out of my ass and connect emotionally to the female body in the present and everyday. Lots of us (men) like to claim - I was at my child's birth (ok, maybe not lots - but you get the idea) ; OR, I am really their for my partner when "it's that time of the month" - but really - all we do is grin and bare "it", until "it" passes (so to speak!) . Not good enough.

Until I start actually engaging with the feelings, and the emotions connected to DD period, how I am going to support Stinkapee? First off, writing this really helps - cause I am very bottled up and wound up. I think one thing I am going to propose is that when her cycle begins, we have a "request/RESET" days. During this time DD requests what she'd to see happen in our relationship and in the house - because her body does something very specific during menstrating cycle. She becomes very creative (busy and imaginative writing and art) followed by a crash in energy. One of the things I'd like to commit to is to make a solid effort to being present, and loving and treating myself with love, care and respect because if I do, I won't end up draining her of so much emotional energy. I do love to do this. And this energy needs to be in reserves for Stinkapee and Fatty boy.

Love myself. Make love to myself. Take myself out. Have a bath. Cry.

It's sounds so straight forward, but anyone reading my blog will know, how much I struggle with this.
One of the things I am working out is trying to love myself. What a concept.

---BACK TO THE PAD--- Right on about the cloth pads. The reality is: I am in charge of the laundry in the house, and it has yielded some positive, and NEGATIVE results. More on that later, but what I am saying is that, after some initial research I found ways to wash Stinkapee reusable pad. I think it's going to be important for Fatty Boy to understand me washing out Stinkapee's cloth pad, putting it on the cloths line and continuing on with the day like anything else.

[You damn well know, that if periods happened to us men, it would be a federal holiday. Bleeding out of out genitals? N*gga Please! There is no chance our world about be organized the way it is. ]

So, first order of the day tomorrow, when I wake up, is going to be to congratulate Ms. Stinkapee on her new cloth menstrual pad. Very cool.
___________________________________________

Found some interesting info on line after doing a search. Useful to me. Might be useful to some other men wanting to challenge themselves:

CLOTH MENSTRUAL PAD INFORMATION:

Commercially available - The majority of commercially available pads are manufactured by work at home moms or small businesses and can be purchased through some health food stores select specialty stores and via the Internet. They are available in a range of lengths and thicknesses, similar to disposable pads, with longer pads for night use and thinner and shorter pads for light use. Some manufacturers will allow the buyer to select the fabrics, shape and size of the pad so that they can be custom made to fit an individual woman and be as efficient as possible.

Handmade - Some women make their own cloth menstrual pads. These pads range from folded wash cloths to pads similar to the cloth menstrual pads available commercially. Some women design their own styles while other women use patterns found on websites.

Washing and care - Cloth menstrual pads may be hand, or machine washed, and then dried on a clothes line or in a clothes dryer depending on the instructions from the manufacturer (different fabrics require different care methods). Some women choose to rinse out their pads in cold water before putting them in the wash with their other clothing, others do not rinse, but put the soiled pads straight into the wash.

Stains sometimes occur, however this is limited if the pads are rinsed out or soaked in cold water immediately after use. Some women prefer darker coloured fabrics which do not show stains as much as light fabrics do. Causes of staining include: allowing the blood to dry on the pad, and using hot water when washing the pad. Drying cloth pads in sunlight can help to fade stains.

When changing cloth menstrual pads away from home, some women place the soiled pads into a waterproof or ziploc bag to keep them from drying out and to contain or prevent odor, and then wash the pads when convenient.

---From Wikipedia. Seems like some good info, but I'm still trying to move away from understanding or associating the female body with "bad" smells. Just a thought.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT i give you the AMERO (goodbye the Mexican Peso, the Greenback, and the Canadian Dollar THIS IS REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD...

First, thanks to Coffee House Studio for having this link.

I'm in shock. But I guess I shouldn't be. I was surfing my way through the web, and found this out. I didn't believe it at first, really I didn't. It is really informative. I thought it made some solid points, but I didn't agree with one point, which suggested that:

"In reality, the value of the US and Canadian dollars will be significantly reduced to counter the worthless peso being absorbed. People in the US and Canada will suffer great financial loss while Mexicans will see significant gain."

I don't agree with this. With the EURO, the folks in the weathier EU nations got richer, and the folks in the poorer EU nations, got well... poorer. Just ask my Greek neighbours. Since their old currency went "bye-bye" , the standard of living for the average Greek person has tanked.


Make sure to watch the CNBC footage in the article..

Now, as I write this, I'm thinking: EUROs, Dollars, Pesos - whatever - we are all still living on First Nations land, so what the fuck anyway. "We are being taken over?" Is this really a news item? Well, yes it is. The question is where do First Nations people figure in this?

The signs of Canada, the shell of a country that it is - being taken over silently have always been there. Every major corporation in Canada is owned either by an American, or a non-Canadian. And whatever is not, will be in the 5 years. The Universal Health Care system has been under attack for years, and corp. rule seems to be the order of the day.

I went walking my son a few hours ago, our neighbourhood is busy with restaurants, cafes, lounges, etc. I had just found the AMERO link, and was feeling dizzy. Literally. I was like: the north american populace has their head in the sand. WATCH THE CNBC LINK. SO smug about being 1st world - we don't even know the shit storm that is about to happen when ALL of the "things" we "own" are devalued.

Damn right they are building prisons/ detention centres. Lots of them. They'll need places to put all of the shocked folk who loose their "stuff" when currency transition occurs.; health care is shot, social programs are gutted, and Cdn have to buy back their own water supply.
ALSO READ:
THE END OF democracy in Canada

A COMPLETE IDIOTjust film your scenes and keep quiet

I just need to make a quick comment about actor Terrence Howard. I'd love to say that what he thinks is an isolated comment, but really - it is the way we men are raised. Fear the vagina, hate the vagina, the vagina is dirty, it needs to be controlled, soaked, scrapped, whatever...

You know what... with men economically dominating this planet, and controlling most of the information/ knowledge/ what is truth - it is no wonder that tons of men and WOMEN actually believe that women are inherently "dirty". You know what... they're not. (and the fact that I'm even writing this is sad.) I have been guilty of believing that women are "not clean" and need to be wiping, patting, perfuming, spraying, their gentials to keep themselves clean - and I am learning how sad we are as a people are - when I see morons like actor Terrence Howard making comments, Terrence: deal with your own, what I am sure is a digusting, stank, ass. And stop thinking on your own. You're an actor. Just stick to reading some else's words. Stop there.

Really though, it's comments like this, that remind me why we men need some serious help. We really do ... another example of the need for men's gathering, discussions, and healing. How about we think about our own bodies, treating them with care, etc.

This is part of why I have this blog.

RELOADing: Joining darkdaughta's fun!

I am honoured to be included in this round of DARKDAUGHTA's "Reloaded" carnival. What a great idea. I'm looking forward to reading everyone's posts and learning losts...Very inspiring.
See you all soon...



Reloaded
Sunday 2, 2007

Red Jenny's "The Good Life and The Economy"

Mommy On The Floor's "The City On The Hill"

Second Waver's "The Male Gaze, postscript"

Universal Plume's "It's Blog For Loving Yourself Day"

Seminalson's "I'm A Fragile Being: Touch In My Men's Group"

Risa's "You Want Cream In That?"

All About My Vagina's "Please call it 'Sex Safety'"

To which Darkdaughta adds: "Race, Class and Everyday Shite", "Western Civilization...A History of Emotional Dysfunction", "My Daughter Wants A Barbie", "Mission Not Accomplished...Sort of" and "Does He Wipe His Track Makin' Ass With Moist Towelettes?"

Reloaded will be happening every Sunday. So, if you or anyone you know has an old post they really liked the first time around, something thick or difficult that they'd like to have circulate through the blogosphere again, just get in contact with darkdaughta. Thx

NEW STUFF NEW POSTtime to start again on my blog, Fall is around the corner and time to get crackin!

One of the things that I struggle with in moving through the personal work I'm doing, is remaining present, and connecting with what I'm doing in the day to day - the choices I'm making and doing something different. I, often position DD as myl motivator - but take note: I mean I position her like this - which also means that I rebel - and more importantly - this is way to energy and emotionally draining. So, TODAY, I'd like to announce to myself a little schedule. Where did this come from? Well, yesterday, DD wanted me to bathe our son on the veranda. I, of course, said, no. You see, I really didn't feel like doing it. I wanted to just bathe him in the bathroom, he could splash around, I could relax, chill out, not worry about to much. It was then when DD said what she has been saying for a long time, which is: I want my children to have various experiences, experiences which aren't defined by the amount of money we have, the amount of credit, but rather a quality of attention and care than is so important.

And I, stubborn and slow (yes I can say that- I am still working threw "feeling controlled" - sad as it is - writing this helps.. At the root of it I was abused by my brother... read some older posts for context)

We got into a discussion about it, her trying to convince me, (now this sounds fucked up as I write it) and after a while, the sun went down, and it became too cold to have the bath outside.
Night fell, and after watching one of my favorite shows, Dexter, I went to sleep (with Shomalian, my son)

Now, it's morning and DD was a great idea to go grab some Ethiopian breakfast with the whole family. Sounds like a good idea, but now we're in discussion about how I'm sabotaging the laundry. I'm off to meet my madd - father in law - .. that's another discussion.

ALL THAT SEEMS TO HAVE HAPPENED IS I WAS DENIALand that's the seems to be the eay of the land

You know, I was just reading the latest post over at Darkdaugtha, and on my second pass I was like: holing shyte - I don't even know what to say. I am shocked. Not because is it not true, but because of my reactions to what I saw. What I saw where a group of names of First Nations locations in Ontario - and I realized I know nothing ... I mean literally nothing about the indigenous people of the land that my family is settling on.

That's not ok. That's fucked up. What the hell! What the fuck is going on? I can blame the government, I can blame the education system (an arm of the government) or I can just own the fact that I MYSELF have done NOTHING to educate myself around the genocide and land stealing program.

My friend MARNI

So, I've just picked up the "Mother Zone" a book by Marni Jackson, and I have to say, it is come at quite the right time for me. She opens up about her family, like few do. I am really about opening up, and sharing my feelings, but have found the a lot of people really don't like to do that. They may pretend that they do, but really - they don't.

Truly, I am trying to build friends for Stinkapee, after having gone thru so much change and difficulties over the past year, or rather I should say - after having so much change thrown at her over the past few years - I really want to put my best effort forward in trying to get her some nice friends. You know, I've found, that for the most part, children aren't nice.

So, at this point, I'm trying to build allies for her. I don't want to risk alienating the parents and then risk Stinkapee a play date. I don't have to connect with them on all things politically, I just want Stinkapee to have some fun.

Anyway, reading Jackson - was like reading a friend. I was having a melt down yesterday. Today is a better day, for sure.

For me, the men I meet don't meet me where I am, and always leave me feeling off. Today I'm putting out a posting for my men's group. I'll write more later...

RESENTMENTi shouldn't be writing this, but I want all my time back, not some, but all... and I want that denial pill again...and...

The clothes need to get folded, stuff needs to get done, piles of paper need to be picked up, a lot of things need to get done around the house. I know this. I know this. I know this. But I want to sleep, I want to go walking, I want to go for a beer, I want to fuck off! And I don't want to negotiate with anyone. I don't want to negotiate with DD, AND I also want to be taken care off, I want to loved, I want to be pampered; I don't want to have to do anything, I don't want to take people's feelings in to consideration, I don't want to feel my feelings, I want to pretend I don't see, I want to run, I want to be left to wander, I want a large bank account, I want stuff handed to me on a silver platter, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't care... I don't care... I don't care...

I'd don't like to answer questions, I don't want this and I don't want that. Everyone, fuck off! I just want silence! I just want no one to talk to me. Okay, I want everyone to talk to me! AHHHHHH!

I'm a teenager! I'm a child! I'm confused! Well, I know what I want. And it's ALL juvenile! But it is ...
Ok, I need to go and read a post I wrote a couple of days back. No doubt, I'll be like: oh yes: I remember writing this - I must have blanked it, .. i feel like crying now.. I feel like a mess...
ok.. i'm going to read the post called: "Took a trip to Monrovia, Dad revealed." April 11.2007

Reading this post should ground me. Then I'm going for a walk around the block, and taking some deep breaths. Then I'm going to have a chat with myself (or on this blog)

Blood, Piss, and Shyt...

So, I'm thinking about my relationship to the human body, and how much I hate my body, and how much I hate the female body, and how much I hate stuff oozing out of bodies. Ok, so my rationale *adult* self doesn't show this for real- in public - but I do hate it.

I've been thinking about how I see and understand the human body, and it is in a very surface way. What this post is really about is the game of denial of play with myself, and how dangerous is actually is. I have issues on my body that need to get checked. I have dental stuff. I have bones stuff. I have a fair number of things that need to be checked out by a homeopath.

IN terms of the blood, piss, and shyt.. well, I have issue with women's bodies, how they work, and what they do. I want to talk about how I expect women to be the picture of cleansed, while I think it's okay to walk around spitting, whorking, outside - the car, on the sidewalk. Sounds like your typical double standard. Sounds pretty basic.

But it is the truth.

I came from a sanitized family house, devoid of mention of bodily functions and when it was mentioned, it was usually frowned on, or in the case farts, laughed. One thing is for sure, ther was no discussion around what women's bodies do - how they work, or anything like that. My father explained nothing. NOTHING. period. My mom either. So, I'm realizing as I write this, that I have another piece of me that I'm set to repeat with my children (and myself) which is fear of the female body - which is a book...
More coming...

I don't know Kathy Sierra either but - WHAT A GOOD WAY TO GET RID OF SOMEONE... hmmmm

This is in reference to an important piece I read at darkdaughta's blog.
So, getting rid of someone doesn't really need an outside force now does it. It looks like all someone has to do is say someone *did* something, put it all over blog land and suddenly - over night - the accused person is in a major shyt storm - and all of blog land has to be under strict manners and rules. Read: BLOG law. So, what will be the punishment for going outside the manners. Who will decide if it what is being said is even true.

I'm thinking about that CBS man, and his comments, and how we don't actually know if his comments were his, or if it was a smart, well created campaign to lift a slumping CBS radio out of the ratings grave yard. What has happened to CBS radio stock; and CBS radio ratings sense all of that began.

And the CBS man? He may have been paid out; he may be offered a new job at a new station, or he may go travel for a bit. Who knows?

But back to the main issue here... here's what I know. Something seems to be brewing. Bloggers, like people in general communicate indirectly, save a few brave souls... A way of dealing that is so indirect, a lot of people don't even know - or have time to see what is going on.
If you (a blogger) don't like a person, or a person's views, you (the blogger) can tell a story about how the person you don't like (or their views) have been attacked and treated. "I'm scared!" "I fear for my life!" "This person is going to kill me!"

You need not show proof, you need not show evidence, you just need to be able to make sure people see your accusations, and off you go!

Words have a lot of charge to them, and no one seems to be talking about what exactly are the facts regarding this Kathy Sierra issue. In fact, is anyone asking: what was the relationship between the people involved? Or more importantly: the person who did this *attack*, what are their political views? Are they against the grain? What else is going on here? Who is Kathy Sierra anyway? Simple questions? Anyone asking?

But imagine (if you will!) if nothing had happened, and this person simply wanted to neutralize an opinion or someone.

Or maybe, I wanted to get more links, more posts, be more popular (and make no mistake, from what I can tell, this is a popularity game. OR MAYBE THEY JUST WANT BLOG LAND PERIOD TO BE BROUGHT under control.. read: all those anarchists, lefty bloggers, and or people who think outside of narrow parameters - beware. You're about to be rained in.

We are living in dangerous times. But then, we always were.

NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! i am so going to do this!

Fresh off my post about playing with Barbies and one thing I forgot to do was talk about the purpose of the post. I was fustrated with (and I still am fustrated) with the limitations put on boys and men. And so, I bring you ... MALE BELLY DANCERS.

Click the player below to watch: TITO, one of EGYPT'S HOTTEST MALE BELLY DANCERS
enjoy.

SO I WAS SITTING ON THE TOILET, thinking about Barbie...

After I woke up this morning, I was in the bathroom reading my Intimacy and Solitude workbbook. I decided to fast forward to the part about gender. And while reading it, I found I re-connected with something I did when I was a child. I played with Barbie!

You see, when I was visiting Barbados - where some of my cousins' lived (when I was a child), one of my cousins had a huge Barbie house, with all the figures, sofas and even a car. The house was about a metre tall, and three metres in width. It was big.

Before this latest realization, I did remember playing with this house, but all I used to remember about it was that I wanted to burn it down. [I think I hated that cousin - but that's another post]
And I could wrap my mind around that - after all - I was a boy, and what do boys do, they make mess and disaster. That memory made sense.

But this morning, I remembered more.. I remembered making up an entire story about the dolls. I gave them new names, and I remembered being Ken. I drove the convertable. It was bright purple... [I think I really liked that]

Anyway, I think I made up a story where Ken was cheating on Barbie, and Barbie decided to get some revenge on Ken by torching his car.

In Barbados, a lot of folks light their gas stoves by matches, so I went on over to the kitchen to grab some matches. I thought.. how amazing, I'll have and epic ending to this story... wouldn't it be cool if everything burned up... the car, the house? everything.
I really didn't think it thru. (Hey I was 10.) I loved films and tv at this point, and so I think that fueled my passion for this.. does this sound like a cliche?

Anyway, the worst was to come.
Before I got a chance to do my firey grand finale - my cousin, a male, caught me playing with the figures. And so it began: "Oh my god... he's playing with Barbies - we knew he was fruity!" "Mom! he playing with her dolls!!! Doesn't he know they're for girls?" I remember denying that I was even playing with them.

Which made no sense, it was obvious that I was. That's all I can remember right now.
And don't even get me started on my demand for an ez-bake oven...

Well, gotta go - have to feed my son.

Sharing ideas and thoughts: I'm writing to you

Galin. Thanks for leaving your post. I'm glad you did. Only thing is, I went to try and link to you and could not find you or your blog. I'm interested in knowing what types of things are happening for you as you read my blog. So much of the problem with men is, we are completely disconnected from each other. Lets see what can be shared.
Looking forward to hearing back.

I took a cyber field trip to Japan: PODJAPAN and found...

a comment on men and women in Japan. Here is a snip (or click here to read the article)

Pod Japan wrote: one of the major problems in Japan: the mother / son relationship is way too strong, which stunts the emotional development of boys, and later makes it much harder for them to relate normally to women. So when (and if) they get married, they won't know how to make their wives happy... Lather, rinse and repeat: this vicious circle has been perpetuating itself for at least 50 years, and I personally don't see what can break it"

My comment was:

OKAY - Well, your comments can go further. It is really sad that the world has been constructed in this manner. You speak of the problem being the mother / son relationship inference being the unhealthy relationship between a mother and her son. Well, I think more the issue is the unhealthy relationship between the men in Japan with .. well.. other men. They teach each other to hate and disrespect women; they don't value girl babies / children and only want to invest (care, love, funds) in the boy- child. And this dominating belief has no doubt effected the way mothers/ woman see themselves. It is no wonder some of the women in Japan have unhealthy relationships with their sons.

This is what has been reinforced and taught over and over and over again by the ruling class... the MEN. I think we should start there instead of pointing fingers at - as usual - mothers/ women/ girls.

As well, it speaks to the sad state of "male culture" - which is universal - they only way we actually exist as a powerful force is to dominate, humiliate and belittle women. We men need some serious help. I for one, think a men's emotional revolution is necessary.
Thoughts?

RE-READING AWAKENING

"...Something.
.. say anything..." I say to myself.

I don't listen to my internal voice. I listen to my little boy who says: you don't have to talk if you don't want to..."

TO which DD says:

Seminal... this is the part where you get angry with me for calling you on your shit!" I say nothing.
I stare at DD and say nothing.

What brought on all of this? Well, this time it was the sound of Shamolian (our 9 month old baby). I had left him to crawl all over the futon (or roll rather) while I flicked the television. I was on the futon to. I'd turn him every few seconds, but mostly he didn't like it. He made struggling sounds, sounds of fatigue and sounds that seemed to say: pick me up... pick me up...". So I turned off the television, got flat on my back (on the futon), and tired to put him on my stomach to sleep - he often likes this.

He didn't .. and at this point, I can understand why.

So, I'll put him at my side.

DD came into the room seconds later. She asked me if I had been sleeping. "No, I hadn't been sleeping I said." "I heard Shom in distress"

To be continued. More to be added.

FIRST NATIONS, me and my 5 yr old.

SO Stinkapee and I jumped into our car and drive across town. Where we are going, I have no idea - but I do know that I wasn't going to be home. DD and I talked about how we have different experiences in our growing up relating to men. If I get triggered, I'll tend to freeze and not know what to do next.

I know I'm suppose to have feelings of shame around this... like... hey your partner is dealing with the landlord and not you. What kind of man are you. Answer: A smart one. My partner and I have diferent talents - and are trying to weigh the emotional weight of each other. It's not all men this happens with - our landlord is a very specific type. So we concluded that it'b be ok if I wasn't in the house if I was around.

ON the drive, Stinkapee was very excited about all the posters and fryers in our neighbourhood. I asked Stinkapee what she'd like to do, and she said get a surprise present for *Mama*. She said:
"What kind of cake does MAma like, cause we could get her a really cool CHOCOLATE cake." To which I said, "what a great idea.. only thing.. well, i'm not sure Mama likes chocolate as much as you..."
Then she asked me, "well what kind of cakes does Mama like? I told her, Mama likes "apples and vanilla ice cream." YIPEE! she exclaimed. We'll get a vanilla ice cream cake with apples!" Her face was glowing.

When we got to our destination, I asked Stinkapee if she wanted to walk for a bit. She said yes. We came to one of about 10 Japanese restaurants in this particular area. Stinkapee pooked her head into one restaurant.

I saw a crowd, and I thought... NO. No crowds. I can't handle crowds right. I thought about Stinkapee and the crowd, and not being able to hear her. I also thought my attention would be drifting all over the place trying to keep her out of hazards. I hate that. I'm forced to micro manage and this also pisses off Stinkapee.

We finally found a restaurant that was not crowded at all. Basically, it sat about 40 and there were about 4 people in the whole space. Perfect I thought.

The waitress came, and was very charmed by Stinkapee asking for tempura. Stinkapee also informed the waitress that she was going to make tempura at home. In other posts I'll write more about the actual lunch and how it went.

I want to jump to what happened when we were getting back in the car to leave the visited neighbourhood. There were these two white men are walking up the street and speaking loudly. I am in the process of putting Stinkapee in our car, and one of them is saying to the other:

"You know, the major problem with Canada is that try saying any racial slur and someone is going to have something to say about it - except if it's about the First Nations. If I say "that stupid drunken Indian" right here on the street - chances are no one is going to say anything."

Now I heard this just as I was closing Stinkapee's car door, to which I said: "Oh I'd have something to say.. I'd have a few choice words" To which he then said - "well, I' really sorry - and I'm glad you would but I mean most others."

I got in my car, and immediately Stinkapee asks me why she doesn't see more First Nations people. I said to her, because the government made a bad decision and decided many of them needed to live in their own neighbourhoods - called reserves. Then she asked me why the people in history made such bad choices. I told her it was a lotof people who live on the goddess mother earth's planet have parents that didn't deal with their emotions. Do you talk about your emotions Stinkapee. "Yes, I do." she replied.

Well, many people don't. In fact, the parents of some people in government have parents which are Durselys. And their grandparents, and their grandparents are durselys too. And when you're a dursely, you make bad choices, and choices that hurt people.

"I never want to be a dursely Papi." she says. "You could never be Stinkapee. I love you." I reply. "Papi" she continues, can we go to Disney World.

*Boy it just keeps on coming*

Constant Mothering

So, I just got into an argument, or was it a non-argument with my partner about my constant need for attention in a particular fashion, the mothering fashion. Yes, a constant validation that only a mother can offer (which mine will not - and yes my little boy is angry about that)

I want my attention, I want my attention, I want my attention. I want it at all costs. I went to counseling today... ... I'm having a realization about my friendship with my friend Charles. You see, him and I are starting a men's group, which incorporates journaling, reading, and reflection. But he just told me he's kinda not into writing. And I thought about how it would be great if he knew about blogging.

But then again, who am I to talk. I'm really similar to him in that I'm addicted to work... all the time. I just so happen to have a partner with boundaries, and so - she expects me to follow thru on what I commit to. Not so for him.

And even with the partner, it has taken me years to move - and i'm still struggling. Go back and read some of earlier posts... i'm still in a lot ways still in that place.


Anyway, I saw this doc on Metellica, DD talks about this on her site, in which the band is going thru some really tough times and so hires a psychotherapist to come and see them once a week to work out their stuff. I envision something like this for me and my group. Of course, who's got the deep pockets to pay for it on Metellica's scale? Well, Metellica. Maybe we all wouldn't see the therapist every week - maybe it would be once a month.

But it would take some serious commitment.

And would probably end my constant need to be mothered all the time by my partner. I need to take control of my serious lack of emotional care from my parents. I need to take control of this. Right now, I'm just total ball of .. well ... old rage. I talked to my counsel today and released a lot of anger - an anger charge that seems like it is endless. I don't stop. I feel like I'm always angry.

So, I beat up my crazy landlord, that madman - I gave him all my rage. Jumped on his face, threw across the room. Gave him round house, kicks and side kicks. I elbowed him, I kicked him - this of course all in the comfort of my therapists' office.

I think I need to do that everyday. It was my brother I was beating up. It was probably also the rest of my birth family that I am angry at that I don't have a chance to tell off in person. And of course, I don't have a chance to beat up... though I think I'd like too.

Everyone one of them needs a good beating by me. No talking. Just beating. Maybe i shouldn't write this. Maybe it's not safe. I'm having thoughts around me being a "dangerous Black man" that one needs to be careful of.

You know, I saw today as mothering myself. Now, if i could just keep the ball rolling. I put my call out for my group out in my blog and keep you all informed of what happens next.

THE SHMOLIANthe birth of a new baby

The latest edition to our household is already 8 months old. I feel shocked at how little I wrote about the birth. But I just wasn't able to commit to doing the writing just yet.

It was very moving and emotional and intense. It was frightening. It was joyful. It was scary. It was natural. It was birth. My daughter was there. The mid-wives were there. We filmed it. We watched it. Again.

IN some previous posts I think I've talked about the importance of being present for this child, knowing that he is a boy-child and knowing how boy children - specifically Black boy children are under-mis educated and pretty well... left back.

But b4 I get all theoretical on you, let me just write my feelings down, I mean for gods sake the point of this blog was to talk about my feelings. First the birth: it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I mean, I wasn't emotionally present for stinkapee - I would say - I mean - I was there but only in body. You should see my eyes in some of the pictures of that day. I look like a fucking zombie.

I don't even think I was there. It was like a was on another planet. Some place far far away. I mean my head is exploding right now just thinking about how I felt in the moment. My young self didn't even really believe it was all happening. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Oh shit... I need to get a hold of myself.

So when I think about Shomalian, I think - the opposite. I has present and excited and really interested in the birth. Our life was different physically, but more importantly, I was seeing a counselor, attending a mens group, facilitator of a young men's group against violence and reading. Then slowly things started to change and I didn't know what to do. Well that's not true either. Wow, writing is something else. Of course I knew what to do, I just didn't want to change anything. I wanted to stay miserable and angry and complain. I still want to be angry... okay I'm ranting now.

Back to the day of the birth. It was an unbelievably beautiful day. I was shitting bricks though cause 4 days before, I had been preparing for (the baby's) arrival. DD was having light contractions on the Thursday (he wasn't born until the following Monday) But because of the quick birth of Stinkapee, I thought - i guess we all thought it best to be ready. So, the midwives came over, I paced up and down a little - and I even had my trusty video camera.

Gotta go pick up my daughter - more later.
I

THE VOICES IN MY HEADand how need to get them out

I was reading "I don't want to talk about it" (Terrence Real, Author) not long ago. Not long ago at all in fact, say just a couple of minutes. The chapter is called Two Inner Children. Even though the person Real describes doesn't look anything like me, I definitely had a a-ah moment. Even as I write this I'm starting to get tired.

But I'm going to fight this. My body starts to shut down when things start to get too emotional. Seriously, it does. It even happens with my counselor, in her office - I can't even believe it.

So I'm reading the book and he's talking about one of his clients, a mid-twenties man who says he likes to spend most of his time practicing "self immolation". And I thought to myself, what it this, and do I do that?

Then Terrence started to talk about what it meant, and then I knew I could relate. He writes:
"There was something wrong with me, something unlike other people - something frightening and bleak. I felt a perverse sense of blackness, (I'm not going into a race analysis here), sadness.."

I think I feel this all the time. No, I know I do. Last year I think I was doing pretty well, but then I just fell off the wagon. My men's group collapsed, and my community that was being built, shifted. No more did I have anyone to hide behind...

I've got to clean up now... I'll be back in a sec.

NBA player comes out

This is going to be very interesting. I immediately thought about how I understood myself when I was a child, how I understood what it means to be a man, a human, a living being, and the lines that were not to be crossed - for any reason. MORE TO COME
Please look at this, comments to follow.

I'M BACK

IT has been quite a bit since I wrote in this blog. Actually, I haven't really written anything, anywhere in a while. So I've got loads to share about my family, the movement that has happened there; my friendship developments, and OF COURSE the birth of my son. Hell, that deserves it's own blog for that matter. Speaking of which, have you seen my partner's blog?

So, where to begin. I suppose I should just start right? Ok...

WANNA BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF?

check out the latest (Feb 17, 2007) posting over at darkdaughta.blogspot.com

This is a repeat...OF OLDER CONVERSATION(?)

Work with depressed man and their partners has convinced me that men's much-vaunted fear of women and of intimacy is really not a fear of EITHER. What men fear is subjugation. In the one up/one down, better than/less then, hierarchical world of traditional masculinity, one is either in control or controlled. Vulnerability, openness, yielding to another's wishes - many of the requiste skills for healthly relationships - can be experineced by men as invitations to be ATTACKED. Men's fear of entrapment, of female engulfment, is not really about women at all. It is a transposition of a male model of interaction to the living roon and the bedroom. When men fear that their women will "engulf" them, they fear that their women will act like men.

insert more from 318-319.

WWhat Real is talking about here between Joe and Barbara is something that has happened with darkdaughta and I except for the fact that darkdaughta does talk about how she is feeling. She is actually quite good and clear at proposing courses of actions and talking the lead at neigotating a path.

But I think this is where I experience my partner and the construction of her "engulfing" me. And it has become even worse, as I now move to actively sabotage all that was created. My latest and most tidy tactic is to not listen to anything DD says - at all, ever. And I want her to stop pointing it out to me. I want her to stop.

Memories of the past few days/weeks:
1. Camp director came up to DD to find out why Stinks missed grad performance. I agreed to handle this b4 hand, but drop the ball and left DD a sitting duck
2. After a long day out, DD told me she was hungry (she's breast feeding) and told me EXACTLY what to make her. I came downstairs and 20 minutes later( it felt like 5 minutes) , still- had still not gotten thru making the first part of the dish.

Truly though, I don't express love the same way as DD. I'm willing to take what I can get from her. I enjoy everything she gives me. But I don't give back in the same way.

I won't even always think first when it comes to Stinks and the new baby. I see things and blank that I ever saw them. Or I should saw, choose to blank them.

So here I am on blogger, at like 5 in the morning on Sunday.

Need to cry now.

Slipping backwards

Well. I'm barely communicating with my DD. The birth of the new baby has been amazing. We plan on doing so much, loving and laughing and caring and touching with him. BUt b4 I get to all of that - I'm still back at battling my little boy. Why did I write battle? You know who I battle? I battle DD. I battle stinks. I've been battling a fake opponent and I've sabotaged my process repeatedly.

I refuse to do anything different.
I'm always resting on my superior stuff. I saw this family riding the streetcar and the guy was so asleep at the wheel. He wasn't communicating with his partner about where to bring their stroller, how to navigate around the crowd etc. When it was time to get off, he just walked away from her. Sounds familiar.

I'm not walking away from DD when we are on the tram, but I walk away in conversation all the time. All of the issues in Az. have made it possible for my issues to be obsecured.

But that is all changing now, with the shifting of the house set-up.

These are (un)edit comments written at 4.57am.

I think about where I was even a few months ago on this blog. What happened to my 'progress'. What happened to staying focused? What do I have now? I'm gonna go read.

HOW 'BOUT BEING HONESTcause I now what I do...

Well, I'm back. Well i never went anywhere really. DD, is on the verge of giving birth - I think she's about 3 weeks or less away - and would you believe I managed to block all over the place. But really in fact, I need to go back and read my other posts - posts that I should be learning from. Posts that without referencing, just seem to be performance.
Remember the post about sex, or how about listening, or how about ....
all have been well - dashed to one side - why? oh, I've told myself a version of ... work... no stability... stuff... blah.. blah.. it all amounts to blahhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhhhh
now - i'm going to re-read, and return. Then I'm going to do get back on the horse I said I wanted to ride (my life - to be clear) and ride.

SO I'M JUST SUPPOSE TO PUT UP WITH CRAPi'm looking for a friend but not at any cost

So, a few months back I met this friend, Morgan. I was really excited because it seemed like Morgan and I - who were completely different - were hitting it off.

He was going to 'popular' personal healing retreats on weekends and I was seeing my counsellor and continuing to build inside Azania. Building meaning - having difficult conversations about relationships etc. Anyway, there have been so major bumps in our road to building frienship, even though I have really tired to be honest and clear from the outset. We've talked about our differences: race, values; but also our commonalities - like both of us making foolish decisions when it comes to advice and suggestions from our partners.

I know for me, it goes beyond - well you're a woman so I'm not listening to you. But that certainly plays some part for me - cause I know that was what was modelled to me.

And I know, that Morgan is struggling with similiar issues and that there is something to gain by remaining friends. I'm just at a cross-roads because he did something yesterday that really pissed me off.

And as I write this, I'm struggling to not make excuses for his behaviour - oh, but, I've already been down this road and Morgan's weird choices - which aren't really weird - they are in fact: quite clear.

First, their was Morgan positioning me to his wife as jocking to watch his son, so my daughter and his son Billy could make it to their weekend activity. This was not the case, and it was that Morgan had other plans, didn't want to break them, and instead asked his partner if I could take their son, with Stinkapee to their weekend activities in their car. Then his partner came back talkin' 'bout: well, I don't know Seminal that well, I'll have to warm to him"

I told Morgan everyhing that happened in a nice chain of events so that he could get a clear picture of what had happened, so he knew why I was pissed off at him. I also told him that I was scared that he wouldn't want to be my friend if I told him the truth. A reality since many people don't like the truth. This is especially hard because I am looking for TRUE male friends who I can count on and trust.

Well, Morgan took full responsibility for creating an messed up dynamic he was creating between myself, his wife, and his son.

I thougth t myself... ok... this is interesting. Well, we are building friendship - that went over OK, let's keep going.

FASTforward>>>

It has been a couple of weeks since what occured above. It's now May 14, and Morgan and I haven't seen each other so much recently. Although, he did pick up a copy of I don't Want to talk about It and we are going to meet once a week to talk about it. (Excuse the wordage)

That's good. But now that it looks like were going to meet, and it is slowly looking like I'm going to have a reading and growth partner - something has to be taken away. What's the something you might wonder?
Well, on the weekend, Morgan promised to pick up Phoenix and Stinkapee (something that has been prearranged for awhile now) and take them, and his son, to their martial arts class. He told me that he'd by watching a soccer game, and then would pick them up. He never came. Moreover, he never mentioned it to Phoenix when he saw them again - TODAY - and did not bring it up when I spoke to him on the phone. I did. When I brought it up - he said to me: the game went into overtime and so, he stayed. HE also said that he and his son didn't end up going after all.

Interestingly, his behaviour as I type this reminds me a lot of myself and how I would deal with DD, early in our relationship. I was convinced I was doing a lot, and in fact, in some ways I was. But that didn't cancel out all the missed up stuff I did with negiotating it b4 hand.

How did I understand myself in building with DD? I'm not saying the relationship is the same as Morgan. But, all fustration with Morgan aside, what is all of this making me remember about how I treated DD earlier on, and even up to now.

Their are some links to be made. For example, I was pretty clear with Morgan about what I want out of a solid man friend. One of my criteria was making sure Stinkapee and the people in her life - are for her safety, growth and development. He damn well should have left that game to follow thru on the promise he made.

I would have done that for his son.

But, look around my blog. I should go back and read all the different places I renegated on my promises to DD...

More later... Stinkapee is coming in the house... and I gotta put her down - sorry for the typeOs

SCABOBLARS! i hit a crucial point today...

Today was an incredible day in many ways. It was a day that I will remember for along time. I told my counsellor about my grandmother's close friend, Sadie who chased me around in her house when I was visiting the West Indies. She would try and succeed in catching me and fonddling my testicles which she dubbed: my scaboblars.

At my counsellor, I told her. She was horrified. A little boy - age 8, being touched by an 70 year elder. Imagine, reverse the gender - and make it an 8 year girl, whose boundaries were being crossed my a 70 year man. Sounds horrible eh?

I started to describe what would happen and how I even found myself in the caribbean island. I was sent their because my parents, didn't know how to deal with their son being abused and terrorized by another son.

Little did they know, I was being fondled 'in the sun' in my safe space. Donna, my counsellor said to me - Seminalson, what are you thinking and feeling right now...

I started down an incredible path... join me...

THINGS ARE MOVINGfor the most part...

I don't think I've done nearly enough crying because I feel full of tension, fear, and general "oh no - someone's gonna find out" - find out what? Well, it's not about finding out something. It just childhood stuff.
I'm getting ready to go see my counsellor and I remembering yesterday when I had mini-melt down which looked like me starting to care less, and less about myself. It was me replaying home life in Monrovia, were no one talked (in fact no one does) and I was sometimes too uncomfortable/ scared to ... but when I look at some of the memories that have come up for me since I last posted - I'm not surprised.

First, I was sitting and talking with Pheonix in the kitchen. I was talking about my family, and remembered that my when I was growing up - on one of the trips to the Caribbean my folks would send me on to get me away from my brother (instead of dealing with him) that I had been abused. My grandmother's good friend, who was around 70-75 at the time used to chase me around (I was around 8 or 9, or 10 or 13) and grab my testicles. She would say: "i'm gonna get your scaboblars boy!, I'm gonna get them"

I actually laughed when I remembered. I thought, now that's silly, isn't it. But it's not silly. It's fucked up. I have to go now... many layers to this.. and I'm going to write more on how I'm dealing with this in really healthy ways...

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU GET A HEADACHE WHEN YOU SEE YOUR MOTHERinvite her over again of course...

You know, some would say that i'm lucky. I at least have the pleasure of knowing that my parents didn't actually know what they were doing when they raised me. Didn't have a clue, emotionally - of how to take care of children.

Pleasure, I mean, in that my mother (Bel) admits this freely now - a switch from the the usually - I was just doing the best that I could..." OR the classic - well you have kids, lets see how they turn out. The latter is really is hard to hear - it shuts down all conversation, leaves now space for anything.

Ok, so moving past that now, Bel still does cause me headache. My head burst with a thrubbing pain on the left side when she and her sister came over to the house the other day. Thankfully, I had spoken with my partner days b4, and she advised me to only to have Bel and her sister. Not, Grave (my father) too. As I tell my stinkapee many times... he's sleeping.

MY BEHAVIOURS ARE ALL FROM THEM, not new info, BUT I KEEP DOING IT... Spin cycle - wash... soap... spin.. spin...

Ok, I'm gonna talk about home now...

re/PARENTING feild trip

OKAY, well this wasn't a re-parenting field trip on purpose; I just went to my family home, Monrovia Place to borrow my folks car. I slept there because my I was going to drop the patriarch of the home to his place of work in the morning and then be off with the vehicle.

But being there is such an education for me because I observe (and shock/traumatize myself) when I watch the interactions between my two parents. I woke up hearing my father singing mickey mouse: m-i-c-k-e-y - and it dawned on me that he's not crazy - in that mainstream sense of the word - ha. ha. ha - but more like horribly triggered around his own childhood.

He was in the bathroom/ shower and sang the song over, and over , over again for about 20 minutes. I started to remember when one of my brothers attack me, and how he never got involved. IN fact, one time, he started bursting into tears at the top of stairs - as if he (my dad) was a little boy - the one being attacked.

... and

Also while I was in the house - I was telling my mother how much time and effort and patience it has taken to make sure Tigana is safe and secure, and for the house to run well - smooth and efficient - with everyones feelings being heard. Sometimes I have feelings of wanting to link our experiences - like I want to erase stuff that has happened in the past. It's like I'm set to denial when I'm ready. SO, i asked her: how did you run a home, how did you do it.

Her reply: I didn't.

Balancing Poly/ Life and Feelings

SO, I feel VERY SAD that the state has been invited into our home. I really feel sad. I feel like we really struggle to be the best caregivers possible, sitting with and dealing with our emotional selves. Yes we struggle with dd, we go to counsellors and really dealing with our stuff. We try. We attempt to be proactive. Bonga, encouraged by dd to see a counselor, gave her therapist some back story, history about her past childhood, and how this weaves into her present. For example, she told us she told her counsellor that in talking about her past with her bio-parents, and their emotional neglect of her, she was concerned and watching to make sure that this would not happen with Stinkapee. Bonga was being proactive and I support her in doing this. Her counsellor took this information and wrongly assumed that understood that Stinkapee was in danger from Bonga - which she is not - and filed an report with an arm of the state.

I am angry at Bonga's counsellor for not informing Bonga of her the client/practioner relationship; and her counsellor's decision to keep secret files on her and not voice her concerns - I am disheartened in another way. That is, I'm feeling sad around the structure that exists in our community right now to deal with this or any other crisis.

Azania is to be a strong group of adults caring for a child, caring for our lives as we attempt to build something better and stronger, and more solid than what we had when we were growing up.

And as I know we must move thru this - and we will - (as I say this, Phx just told me she going to clean the bathroom2) I'm forced to think about what I should have been up to by this point in Azania. The choices that I made that have led not being prepared.

It has been totally unexceptable. And I mean this, because dd literally shared ALL of her tools, her experiences, all wrapped in emotional support to build in this community and I was to (and still am) wrapped up in ego and self importance to move consistently thru it.

I can hear it now... because I hear it all the time... you're being too hard on yourself S2. You're doing the best that you can, and all you can do at this point is breath. No, I can do a hell of a lot more than that.

First, I can post this, so someone out there reading can see / learn from my experience. Also, too me, what exists right now in Azania, I need to understand does not mean - ok - we're in a crisis and so, all bets are off, and so - I need to try and go into nuclear hetero mode and start interacting with dd like everything I know about her is theory and pretend. Now would not be the time to give up on my agreements. Now would not be the time to try and forget about our poly relationship and for me to re-treat into monogamy.

Hell, you might say: I WOULD, sounds great - makes sense to me - after all, look at what Bonga has modelled to everyone in the community. What options do I have left? And when I say modelled to everyone in community, I'm talking about her having known dd the longest and chosen to block relationship building amongst the members unless she was central.

But it isn't great, it's messed up.

Last night, when I got back to the house from a parenting group with Bonga, I was feeling pretty low because of what had happened during the day with the state. I got home, and immediately wanted to be away from Bonga - who was doing her regular 'i'm falling asleep, i'm tired, i haven't eaten dinner' routine and being generally uncommunicative in the taxi. I called her out on this, but she does it so often, to her it's like putting butter on bread. She likes being called on it.

This stuff she does is very manipulative. But at this point it's outrageous. We are trying to get this home running well, Stinkapee safe and educated; food supply maintained; Phx's new space moved in from another house; house maintenance in order; ARRIVAL OF THE NEW BABY in the next few weeks; own our stuff around sucking dd emotionally and not being accountable - note to Bonga - stop modelling messed up behaviours to Phx and me. Stop it.

Anyway, at the house that night, I put Stinkapee down for the night, and saw Phx. Her and Bonga were having some dynamic which I really needed to be away from - but wasn't ready to speak to fully to. Not out of respect for their stuff. No. it was more like - I wasn't ready to ask them for what I needed for my support (given what happened today) in my moment and of course, I can always default to "where's dd??" she's in the house no? I'll find her ...

Found her: she was in comfy cozy - our living room space. It was wonderful to see dd. It's always wonderful to see dd. But in our interaction, she made a valid point, she wanted to know what I wanted from her - she had been home watching television for a couple of hours now, and (as I know, and she has stated many times) if she actually wants something - she'll SAY so.

And she was right. She's not one of those - "oh, you're being silent so I need to do something to make you better." The truth was, I needed to do something to move thru what I was feeling.
And so, I kissed dd and went back upstairs and relayed the brief interaction I had with dd to Bonga and Phx.

I told them I was should have asked for what I needed earlier in the evening. Phx was like - remember I asked you when you came in S2 - how are you feeling? She did. I blanked it - I was clear in my head when I arrived in the house: where's dd?

Anyway, Phx and Bonga asked what I'd like: I told them, I wanted to have a shower, smoke a little bit of a cigarette and then cry. I said I wanted one or both of them to be with me during my crying.

They agreed.

WATCH THIS SPACE FOR INTIMACY/ THOUGHTS INSPIRED BY READINGS FROM DARKDAUGHA AND TERRENCE REAL

I WOKE UP RIGHT AWAY...

LAST night I was dreaming about stinkapee and myself running through the YMCA. I trying to get stinkapee's attention but she had other things on her mind.

Suddenly, a woman with a head wrap came along and started to tell me me why it was so important for stinkapee to listen. What will happen when she's older and she doesn't know any better? - this head wrapped woman said.

Then, as I looked closer at her face, I realized that the woman wasn't a stranger at all. It was my great aunt, who died about 8 years ago. I screamed in horror: in pain because I missed her; in fear because a piece of her was such a horrible person; I was so jolted... I woke myself up ... a tear on my cheek.

I CAN'T RUN FROM MY BRAIN After years of denial/struggle resulting in a stalled sex life .. I re/embark on a crucial journey

The ironic and sad part of this next post is that sex has been abundant in the house, and in my relationship with darkdaughta - I have had lots of opportunities (and actually continue to) have lots of responsible sex in a polyamorous context. The choices that I have made within that make no sense, unless I am trying to live out what I think I deserve: a sexless existence. And of course, this is not what I want... and this is not what my life in Azania has been... quite the opposite in fact.

SO, this has taken a bit of time for me to write. Even longer to publish. 3 weeks I think.. IT has taken me even longer to actual, well.. do. When I first came into relationship with darkdaughta, an anti-oppression, anti-authoritarian, sex positive, pro-choice, Black conscious, queer, feminist - I must have thought, ok, well - you have your way of thinking - and I haven't given much thought to my way of thinking or my place in the world, less being a straight Black man. I didn't really think about my class background or my relationship to sex..

Sure I had sex, responsibly and ethically - but did I actually understand sex in all of it's complexities .. in a word? No.

Nor did I feel I needed to. I was Seminalson. I have learned everything there is to know about everything, and what was darkdaughta going to teach me? ...right... lol...

I also understood her as a threat. A threat to my familiar, limited, conservative life I like to hold on to. I still struggle with how much she loves me... is she actually laughing at me?

No of course not.

Check out

one of my other posts

to see how I express my upset sometimes in our relationship.

I grew up in a very sex negative house. My mother, confirms this. I thought it was normal for no one to ever speak about sex in my household growing up. As a matter of fact, I can honestly say that not until my early twenties did I even hear the world orgasm come out of my father's mouth - and it wasn't orgasm - he said: orgasmoo.

Actually, that's pretty telling isn't it.

He was definitely not comfortable with the word at all in front of me. I have never really thought about it b4. No, that's not true, either.

I have journal entries dating back 3 years that went into my parents messed up stuff - around sexuality.
I have journal entries about me at age 11 having kissed another boy, also 11. The silence that came from my parents, the (when looking back now) odd questions that came out of that. As darkdaughta has pointed out many times and the facilitator in my men's group has also said: they made an exploration with another boy some kind of horrible event, one in which I should sweeped under the rug and never talked about ever again, not even for any reason. At this crucial age - I felt completly lost, and it was left to me to find my own answers - to parent myself.

Compounding this was another troubling incident. My older brother found out about this whole exploration I had. You know, he was already making my young life misreable, but from that day forward - he made it his mission to terrorize and humiliate me.

I wonder what life would have been like if I had been allowed to not feel shame around this natural exploration and just been allowed to continue to live a normally ... these years of shame definitely would / have affect dealing with stinkapee and the baby that's coming. This is some of the work I agreed to tackle in being in relationship with darkdaughta. I said I understood that she was not a straight lady: trained and programmed to settle for whatever I had to offer in terms of relationship. How was she suppose to build with any man - without that man doing some personal work? And as I type this - she is 100 percent right. But don't be fooled... I spend much of my time (for the past 5 years) in a cocky, arrogant state - where nothing she is saying is going into my brain. I have to be right, right, right... It is patriarchal, it's brutish.. and it engrained in my head. How arrogant am I to think that accepting/ embracing patriarchy was going to be ok with darkdaughta adn inside Azania.

I know where much of this comes from - and we've talked about it. But it this talking about it - and my non-action that is the energy drain. It drains and drains and drains. It has been a soul killer for darkdaugtha to struggle on a daily basis with me about this stuff. But this is me writing about it now.

But I feel like I've been stuck in a loop, a loop where darkdaughta suggests I look at material that could help provide a frame of how I'm feeling - I agree - but I get scared. It needs to happen in my timeline, and at the same time I know that my timeline includes the very real lives of Stinkapee and the next baby - to safe guard their childhood and place in the world as little people, so that they can grow safely into mature, sexually healthy adults.

My timeline also includes my very real life and the commitments I made in being in relationship with darkdaugtha.

At the beginning of this, I talked about who darkdaughta is. I have chosen to not sit with the choices she has made - in relation to partnering with a straight, middle/class, sexuallly conservative (actually repressed/oppressed) individual.

I hold my head in the emotional weight of what I've written here. Darkdaughta made a choice, a choice that also had to do with love, trust and alliance building. I made a choice. To love responsibly and ethically and to welcome challege. This could not be more clear now, as other folks in our intentional community have made very clear choices to reneg on their commitments.

But my oath, came before Azania, and I actually started doing the work even b4 Azania was formed. I felt alone during this early stage. Darkdaughta would say to me, suggest to me the tools to build up supports to deal with some of this stuff. But, in truth, I did not want to deal with it. I think I wanted it because the confusion and pain were familiar. I am still like this, even though I am trying to move from here.

Even with a wealth of conversation; books and on-line access - I refused to have sex with darkdaughta in the beginning of her pregnancy with Stinkapee (this over 4 years ago). As I write this, I wonder if this was about the resent I felt with her for being pregnant. I think I was really confused and overwhelemd, and performing the 'everything's fine' line - but really just feeling confused. It wasn't simple resent, there was more. I didn't think of myself as as worthy of having a secure and healthy life, including a sexual partner.

In fact, I spent 9 years in partnership with a woman who I was attracted to (throughout highschool and part of secondary school) but we would never engage in anything sexual

I understood myself as not worthy enough. And I definitely had skin colour internalized racism in me - which said: she's South asian, 'pretty', (or what I understood as 'pretty' in a society that has stratified people of the world via their nose shape, skin shade, etc) She paid attention to me, but honestly I thought it was because I was useful in some way. And I was, I kept other boys, and men away and this she wanted. I was good enough to be used as a tool.

This reminds me of my relationship with Bongafish, and how complex and layered our relationship is and was. Part of my relationship with Bongafish was her using me to mask the fact that she was queer. With me by her side, she was assured safe passage thru Black middle class spaces.

So, back to the present. Darkdaughta and I are polyamorous. If I so chose, and it is properly negoitated I can sleep with anyone I wish and have. No matter, because I choose in my head that women aren't attracted to me; they see something off about me. They'll laugh at me, and run way. I'll be made fun of. As I write this, I am saying to myself: that won't happen. That's a script in your head.

I am partnered to the most dynamic, experimental, beautiful, ethical, courageous, woman I have met - but I don't really value this. IT just sounds good. She wanted to teach me things. I've been so wounded and bruised growing up, I just wanted to be the leader, the knower of all things sexual. After all, it is not like there is more to know after you're sixteen right? WRONG.

By refusing to look at my past, ignoring her requests, and totally and completely ignoring my own soul which is trying to heal - I have rejected what I claim to want - a healthy physical relationship with darkdaughta. Why would she want to sleep with a partner who reneged on his agreements - while at the same time reserving the right to blame her for all of this. And in fact, whan I blame darkdaugtha for all my problems - it fits because thenI can say - ah ya.. you're not attracted to me! You won't touch me! And I hate you for not just going along with whatever I want.
Now those are familiar voices. I need them to go.

And they are with the help of the supports I am finally putting into place.
This post to be expanded, so check back when you can.

HAVING FEELINGS FOR PHOENIXFISH...

I told Phoenixfish that I would like to build with her, within the context of Azania - that I care for her, love her...

It felt scary talking to her about my dreams for Azania given that I experienced her to want to destroy it, dismantle it, step on it and harm it. But, I actually felt good sharing space with her. We talked about our attractions, and what it would mean to actually forge ahead. I think we're doing well, I think we're moving in a direction I never thought was possible. Much more to coming ...

Crying, Yelling, Screaming, Stomping ... being touched and held ... by men ... WHAT??!

A snipett from my men's emotional group... during this session, this was the first time I actually totally vulnerable with men in a safe environment. Ever. Blows my mind!
I CAN STILL SEE Don's face, way too close to mine with one hand supporting my back, one hand on my heart. I lock eyes with him, and he says to me: "what do you feel now? what do you want to do?" eyes staring right at me. I can feel his care for me like the strong breeze swirling around me. "I want to run... I want to get the f#ck outta here... so I'm going to stay" "Good" says Paul, the lead facilitator - eyes and emotions matching the intensity of Don.

I stay.

Water runs down my face and...

WATCH THAT TONE! you're just too loud darkdaughta...

THIS YEAR darkdaughta and I will celebrate 6 years of knowing each other. And through all of this time, we have laughed, cried, explored and struggled. And thru all of this time, a consistant theme has been running as I watch and support her move thru the world, head held up, speaking from her toes, and being vocal with surity and confidence. That theme is fear. How can she possibly be so well spoken and confident people wonder. Must destroy, Must destroy, Must destroy.. the actions that soon follow. By the way: this is b4 they know her politic etc.

People fear her. Community members fear her.
And so, most people don't want to feel fear in relation to her - and so a process called elimination begins. I have been watching this. I have actively blocked against it/ and supported darkdaughta in blocking non-allies. But it's a lot.

In fact, (as I leave for work now) I think about how my sheilds are (almost slways up) when we meet and engage with anyone new. Many times I support darkdaughta in not interactng at all - cause sense she is going to speak the truth - when it is necessary... well... lets just say - the truth is not welcome in many cases in the real world.

More to come...

I LIKE MY COUNSELLOR yes... i do.

YESTERDAY I WENT TO MY MEN'S EMOTIONAL group and today I saw another great ally: my counsellor. She is a fantastic individual who not only listens but also feels when I talk to her. And I can see her feeling. And she encourages me to feel. She is honest in her delivery, in her conversation, and she is quite straight forward. I like that. And I like her. I mentioned my men's emotional group here because there is a piece of me that thinks I am being self indulgent in doing all of this personal work. Am I really taking all this time to do this? Who the hell am I to do this? And how in the christ can I afford it.. cause it sure as hell ain't free... For those of you wondering: some people prioritize smokes, alcohol, drugs, clubbing, really fancy shoes, expensive cars etc, in their lives. And that's their choice. My priority is my personal healing work. I figure, whatever else will come.

So, today, I saw my counsellor and we talked about a number of things. I told her about seeing my brother, todeboy, when I was over at my folks on Sunday. Moving thru the fear and upset I have in relation to my memories with todeboy, I simply came right up to him and said hi. He seemed surprised, even a little off kilter. And so, he fired: so, you know SO&SO? I don't know who you're talking about" I quipped.

"Sure, you know, his daughter goes to the same daycare as stinkapee" he probed.
Now, I know the person he is talking about is not a friend, and he is only bringing this up to make me uncomfortable. The person he is talking about is a coward who tired to get information from about our family (probably to gossip) from Bongafish. It was a day when she was at the school without myself, or darkdaughta or any other community member. He intentionally went to her for information - he had never once approached me about my brother. - but he did ask about him through Bongafish.

Now, months later... stinkapee doesn't attend the school (not daycare) he's referring too, but I wasn't about to engage in conversation about that. When Toteboy he informed me that I knew this person, because the person also knew another mutual acquaintance - Wil - I redirected the conversation by asking him about Wil, a person I know Todeboy he doesn't like or understand.

More later...