Get Some Help

Some places I just don’t go emotionally. For me they are like taking back alley bike rides: They seem convenient but the potential problems keep me from going there. When I was a bundle of nerves and confusion the other week, I knew I needed to rethink my emotional bike ride theory and figure out how to seek and receive a safe path, whether convenient or not. My problem was I just didn’t know HOW to do that. I don’t have a problem being honest with my feelings, but usually when I am most folks don’t know what to do with what I share. As my friend Carla said, even though I am a recovering strong black woman, people see me as having it all together and don’t usually ask if I need any help; they assume I have it all together. So between folks not knowing how to advise me or assuming I don’t need advice and me not knowing how to get help, I don’t get or expect much help. This doesn’t mean I don’t need or want help; I do. After talking with Carla, I understood what recovering strong black women and their friends can do to get them the help they need:

Strong Black Women

  • Confess what you’re going through.
  • Even though you may not have gotten help in the past, you don’t know what your confession may yield you. When I told Carla how I felt, she didn’t have anything to offer me in that moment but later she apologized for not asking me if I were okay. She then gave me permission to interrupt her talking about her so we can talk about me.

  • Talk it out.
  • If you are like me you may know that you need help but just not sure what you need. If you talk it out, you may discover what you need to ask for.

  • Ask your friends to let you talk.
  • People who have strong black women as friends take for granted that these friends are supposed to hear all their problems. This is the typical nature of the friendship so you have to speak up for yourself.

  • Know that your friends want to help you.
  • They usually are so grateful for all you’ve done for them that they are willing to help you or work hard to get you the help you need.

    Friends

  • Ask.
  • Make sure to ask your strong black women friends what they are going through. Don’t assume they have it all together.

  • Listen to them.
  • After you ask your friends what’s going on, LISTEN to them. We’ve all had people ask us how we are doing and when we’re honest they don’t even acknowledge what we’ve said but go on to the next subject. Don’t do that. Even if you don’t have advice to offer, at least pray for them in that moment.

  • Seek God.
  • Let Him show you HOW to help your strong black women friends. Even though they may be the ones who usually dispense the advice, God can use you to help them too.

    God means for our relationships to be reciprocal for healing to take place. Let’s do our parts so we can be healed (James 5:16).

    How have you been guilty of not seeking or offering help?

    Copyright 2011 by Rhonda J. Smith

    All We Need-The 31st Day of Christmas

    On the 31st day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a prophet, priest and a king (1 Samuel 7).

    Some of us have good girlfriends that are spiritual warriors who we count on to get a prayer through, the fun ones to shop and go to the spa with, and the heady ones, who initiate some deep, stimulating conversations. Then there is the rare friend who is all three and more. Before I became a Christian I used the many friendships model to build my faith system. I took the truth I learned from my Muslim boyfriend, the humanistic views of my revered intellects, the common sense my mama taught me and mixed it with my lifelong Christian lessons. I thought I had the perfect faith until I met the Perfect One.

    When I met Jesus, I was uncertain about how He was who He said He was, but I couldn’t ignore His call to me and believed that He is God. My God is prophet, priest and king, and the biblical Samuel—prophet, priest and judge, was a type of Christ, foreshadowing the three-fold ministry of Jesus Christ.

    And Samuel spake unto all the house of Israel, saying, If ye do return unto the LORD with all your hearts, [then] put away the strange gods and Ashtaroth from among you, and prepare your hearts unto the LORD, and serve him only: and he will deliver you out of the hand of the Philistines. Then the children of Israel did put away Baalim and Ashtaroth, and served the LORD only.—1 Samuel 7:3-4

    And Samuel took a sucking lamb, and offered [it for] a burnt offering wholly unto the LORD: and Samuel cried unto the LORD for Israel; and the LORD heard him. And as Samuel was offering up the burnt offering, the Philistines drew near to battle against Israel: but the LORD thundered with a great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, and discomfited them; and they were smitten before Israel.—1 Samuel 7:9-10

    And Samuel judged Israel all the days of his life.—1 Samuel 7:15

    As prophet, Samuel spoke to the Israelites for God, as priest, he spoke to God for the Israelites, and as judge, he settled matters between Israelites, pronouncing consequences for their actions. When Jesus walked the earth, He was a prophet, who spoke the words of God the Father; a priest, who made an offering—himself—as a sacrifice to God the Father for the sins of humankind and still intercedes for His disciples as He sits on the right hand of the Father in heaven; and a king, who will judge all after His second coming to earth. Jesus is the God of more than enough, the One who speaks to us and for us and makes everything with us right as it should be. With Jesus, there is no need for (nor can there legitimately be) additional gods. He is all we need.

    Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

    Day 7: Losing It, Part 5

    As a sorority member in the 1960s she and her sisters promoted Sickle Cell awareness when no one had (and many still have not) heard of Sickle Cell. They had political rallies and gave more than lip service to caring about each other’s welfare. Though some of those women were not active in the sorority after they graduated, they remained active in each other’s lives. I always remember my mom being a part of the phone chain, or calling everyone herself, to let ‘the sorors’ know when another was in need: funeral arrangements, bills paid, groceries, prayer, etc. They were there for each other like no man, in their estimation, ever was.

    Along with her sorority my mom was involved in politics. She was a strategist on some campaigns, a general volunteer on others, an election worker, a Democratic Party committee contributor and a precinct delegate. Most times she worked for women. She shared her heartbeat for protecting women when she taught my sister and me that we didn’t have to let the right hand (my daddy/husbands) know what the left hand (my mama/wives) was doing.

    I never sought to be a feminist. I simply repeated my mothers’ behavior and allowed the culture to further influence me with little critique of larger implications. I want you to consider some of the notions that I had, and that you might have, that are feminist thoughts: 1) Men and women are equal in all ways; 2) I don’t need a man to provide for or protect me; 3) We will split everything 50/50 in my marriage (bills, our roles, etc.); 4) I’m not in favor of abortion for me, but I believe women should have a choice to decide what they want to do with their own bodies; and 5) As an adult, you should be able to love whoever, man or woman, finds you loveable.

    In short, feminism means giving priority to womanhood, considering your existence through giving preference to female desires with little or no regard to the negative effects on men or children. In this extreme version feminism is matriarchy on crack, especially for the Christian and more specifically for the one calling herself a strong black woman.

    Copyright 2006-2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

    Loving Kim

    Yesterday educator and civil rights icon Dorothy I. Height died. She was there with Martin Luther King. She was there before him fighting for racial and gender equality. She was on the frontlines. Among several involvements, Height was a member and past president of the National Council of Negro Women, a member and past national president of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Inc. and a presidential adviser. Height was 98. With her death and the recent death of former NAACP leader Benjamin Hooks, someone asked the question, “Who will lead us?” And I thought of my girl Kim, one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends.

    Me and Kim at the airport on her way to South Africa-February 1996

    Kimberly Ann Trent is a civil rights icon in her own right. Currently a director for Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm, she’s worked for two members of US Congress, been a journalist, is extremely active with the Democratic Party and Delta Sigma Theta’s political action committee, organized the campaign to keep affirmative action as the law in Michigan and sits on too many boards to name. She is a true Renaissance woman who does what she does not to be seen and heard but so others can be seen and heard. Though she comes from a highly educated middle class family and has studied abroad in Finland and South Africa, she has a heart for the oppressed, whatever the oppression is. She’s been this way for as long as I’ve known her and that’s been since we were 14, but we didn’t get close until college.

    While at Wayne State University in Detroit we dreamed of a better world and what our role would be in it. We were young, certainly not dumb but we wanted to be deeper than we were. A voracious reader, Kim mostly decided what we would read and intellectual bell hooks was at the top of our list. Some Saturdays (depending on what we did Friday night) we would sit and read and then discuss what we read. I remember taking Sisters of the Yam on our trip to Jamaica and between sightseeing and beach parties, we actually read on our hotel balcony and while chilling on the beach.

    Our reading together, trips together, working together (summers at The Detroit News), and ‘all the time’ talks together created a deep bond that some just couldn’t understand, especially our sorors (I am a member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.). We would say we were going to be national president of our organizations and seek to implement joint national programs. And to get each other’s attention across campus we would mix our sorority calls (Skee-oop, I would say. Ooo-skee, she would say). This was the late ’80s and ’90s. In this last decade we haven’t hung as much because our lives leave little time for leisure. But Kim in all her busyness never forgets her friends. She never forgets me. She always celebrates my birthday and has helped to host my baby showers. We talk at least once a month and even hung out for a few hours last Friday without a big rush and without our children. It was then that I felt we were young again, and I remembered my poetic tribute to her. I share this with you now to celebrate one of my best friends, civil rights icon Kimberly Ann Trent:

    SISTER LOVE
    For Kimmie

    A stash of my sashes, those tools to prop me up,
    are in medicine cabinets and books, the bible to be exact.
    But there’s one place I find comfort, where books don’t compete
    or taking drugs, when I’m fiend, leaves me feeling incomplete
    I need to push a button, the one marked primary
    at the top of my telephone
    to send an alert to my friend, the one who keeps me moving,
    strolling, yes, staying strong.
    Always on the case, my saving grace,
    she perfects the race to be young, gifted and black.
    She got my back from way back,
    that’s how I know she’s beautiful.

    And I told her, her statuesque body
    taking command as she stands and I delight
    in her insight and share her thoughts with others.
    And no joke, this is not for the rhyme but my brother
    said one time, “What doesn’t Kim say?”
    I blushed and agreed because I did repeat
    a lot of what she said
    like with a childhood crush
    or results of a sugar rush to the head
    I was and still am impelled by Kim.

    Sounds like a love story, that’s right, it is.
    Sister love is the theme and Kimberly Ann Trent has laid out the scene
    Even when she’s moody and doubtful, I remember the laughter, same wave lengths, talking all night, all of the trappings of great friendship.
    She is solid, solid as a rock, my rock and she better know it.
    She is good medicine. And I’m glad I have her to help save my life.

    By Rhonda Anderson
    February 17, 1996

    Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

    Supernatural Sister

    Me & my best friend Nichole wearing t-shirts she designed: Walk by Faith and Fear Less, Hope More

    I wasn’t looking for any more friends, was satisfied with the ones I had—old and true not giving me the blues like some relationships I knew about. But I found her, Nichole M. Christian, at a college journalism program meeting in Detroit, and I loved her right away. Continue reading