Pride

This Mother’s Day I got treated to rest and dinner. My husband took care of my one-year-old all through church service and fulfilled most of our children’s demands throughout the weekend; I ate at my favorite restaurant (The Blue Nile, Ethiopian); and I finally watched the TD Jakes’ movie Not Easily Broken with Morris Chestnut and Taraji P. Henson.

For those of you who haven’t seen the movie, it’s about what happens to a married couple that doesn’t keep God at the center of the marriage. In this movie, selfish desires take precedence and allow bitterness and blame shifting to become basis of the couple’s interactions. Ultimately, pride is what keeps each of them from continually pursuing the other to make amends. But a conversation with her mother led the wife to a revelation of her complicity in destroying her marriage.

In defending why she encouraged her daughter to put her husband out of the house, her mother said: “Black women have to be strong and you know that.” “And in all your lessons about how I need to be strong and proud and independent, Mama, you left out some very important things. How to love, Mama. How to really care about somebody. How to forgive.” Oh, this struck a chord with me. My mama, too, like many of our mothers, gave us the reality lesson of the double struggle that comes with being black and a woman: People automatically discount your strengths so you have to work twice as hard to be considered half as good. And for me and others I know, this made us work more than twice as hard because we wanted to be considered more than half as good. This excellence, for me, resulted in pride. Not the kind that prompts you to have good self grooming and appreciate how God made you (this is good pride), but the kind that says, “I’m all that. I’d rather just do it myself to make sure it gets done right.” I became self-reliant and in my recovery, I have had to learn how to have God esteem, not self-esteem, and let people help me.

Pride has been my source of strength, my vice, for many years. We know that pride comes in many forms, and I have dealt with a good variety of them: intellectual pride, family pride, sorority pride, material pride, just to name a few (Yes, there are more. I will be delivered, in Jesus’ name). As I prepare to reveal my proud self in various areas of my life, tell me where you struggle with pride. How has pride been a hindrance for you? Talk to me.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

Exalting Concepts

For the last three weeks, I have challenged the thoughts of some iconic black women, one of whom is a favorite of mine. I didn’t do this to get a rise out of you or to slander them. I just believe that it’s imperative for this forum—one that seeks to challenge the notion of being a strong black woman—to challenge the ideas of people that have been held in high esteem, ideas that we may otherwise dismiss because we like the people or because we don’t want to “air our dirty laundry.” But air we must because dismissal is not an option (Ephesians 5:11, 13-14a).

I could continue to talk about others’ ideas and beliefs, and perhaps I will return to them in the coming months, but for the next few posts I want to turn your attention away from specific people to concepts and ideals that we exalt and may unknowingly hold us captive. The focus of my entries will be based upon “The List.” Why don’t you take the time to review the posts “The List” and “The List Deconstructed” to see where I’ve been and to see the basis on which I will build for the next few weeks? As always, I welcome your feedback so I look forward to your comments.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

Talking with Grandma

Iyanla Vanzant

Iyanla Vanzant

A few years ago (2001) I was watching Tavis Smiley’s State of the Black Union. As usual, he had several of America’s top black minds on the panels. This year’s focus was religion. While the moderator was talking to one panelist, he noticed that another panelist, motivational speaker and minister (Yoruba priestess) Iyanla Vanzant, seemed to be conversing with someone. He turned his full attention to Vanzant and asked her what was going on. She said:

    I’m struggling with the essence, the energy of my great grandmother in my DNA that says you don’t need nothing but a strong connection to you and your creator. You know, she says, ‘He’ll tell you what to do and how to do it.’ She says, ‘You keep doing the same thing, sometimes in a different way, and that’s why you keep getting the same results.’ She says that we have a genetic and a cellular memory that comes forth, and that memory that is really etched inside of us is one of running, hiding and waiting. We’ve been running from stuff for so long. Then we hide so that we won’t be found out hoping to be found, and then we wait to be invited in. And she says it’s time for us to stop running, first of all, from responsibility. . . .Nobody in the White House, green house, po’ house, left house brought you on this planet. You are here by divine design. What is your connection to that? What is your connection to that?

After deafening cheers from the audience and panelists, Vanzant told black folks that trust was their second area of responsibility and that grandma said black folks show a lack of trust by what they say and do. Ultimately, they turn to the government, instead of themselves, to get what they want. “I don’t need George Bush to tell me who I am and who I’m not,” Vanzant said. “I don’t need that. What I gotta do is go within myself.” And, as she has said throughout sharing this spiritual moment, going within herself means tapping into ancestral spirits to help her and others recognize “their divinity, their power, but also recognizing the things they do to sabotage themselves. . . .So, yes, me and grandma are having a moment. And it’s all good.”

Maybe you thought like me at first. Beyond the ethereal talk, I thought that Vanzant may have just been referring to the values her grandmother instilled in her but was just using present tense to describe how her grandmother would talk to Vanzant when she was alive. But then Vanzant closed her remarks with this: “So let us as individuals, as we address each and every one of these issues, please let us not forget that grandma will speak to you, and not only will she speak to you, but she knows that they owe you her salary, and she’ll tell you how to get it.” I love my grandmothers, and they were wonderful women. I remember their wisdom and use it. But I remember what they told me and don’t seek to find out what they can yet tell me. This is divination. This is witchcraft. This is worshipping the dead. This is not the way to honor the ancestors, if you’re a bible-believing Christian.

“When men tell you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter, should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?” (Isaiah 8:19, NIV). Isaiah asks us two good questions that we need to ponder. If we do indeed believe in “giving honor to God who is the head of my life,” then we should make that statement true, and seek him. And if we must talk to an ancestor, let it be someone alive who God has told us to seek. Grandma may have had some good ideas, but only the one who was and is and is to come, Jesus the Christ, has the best ideas, and we must seek him for our strength.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

Proper Ways to Honor

Yesterday the Detroit Branch NAACP honored some civil rights giants during its annual Freedom Fund Dinner. Among the awards given were the Mary White Ovington Freedom and Justice Award given to the Rev. Al Sharpton and the Mary Church Terrell Freedom and Justice Award given to the Rev. Edwin A. Rowe, pastor of Central United Methodist Church in Detroit. I chose to highlight these two awards because they were named after female ancestors who made great contributions to the fight for human rights, particularly for blacks and women. They were founding members of the NAACP 100 years ago and were chosen to help establish this civil rights group because of work they had been doing prior to 1909. An award named after someone is definitely an appropriate way to acknowledge ancestors.

Some other proper tributes include the naming of a street, building or some other monument; the creation of art, like a sculpture, painting, poem, or documentary; and a holiday to honor that ancestor. All these ways keep their memories alive in those of us familiar with them and prompt others of us to seek information about them. As I read the newspaper about the Freedom Fund Dinner, I was able to introduce some and reinforce other present day activists to my six-year-old son, simply because the paper talked about the honors they received. From the NAACP tribute to a newspaper that highlighted their achievements, I was able to etch into my son’s mind the work of our ancestors. The preserving of memories is important, and we must give honor to whom honor is due (Romans 13:7). We just need to make sure that the honor preserves their memory and their proper place in our lives, as humans who contributed to the advancement of humanity.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

Acknowledge the Ancestors

I didn’t make it to see Sonia Sanchez as I planned on Wednesday. Caring for my family and home wore me out. There were the doctors’ appointments, the medicating of cuts, the comforting of crying children, yadda, yadda, yadda. I had to rest my tired body and soul. I wanted to see and hear Sanchez, but that just wasn’t prudent. Anyway, the more I thought about Sanchez’s quotation regarding writing to keep in contact with our ancestors, I realized I didn’t need to ask her what she meant, though it would have been nice to have her view confirmed; my initial intent when presenting the quotation was to talk about the whole notion of acknowledging the dead.

Let me say right now: we must acknowledge our ancestors, those living and dead. We gain strength from their greatness; we understand our ancestral legacy; we know what’s good to follow and what changes we need to make based on their successes and failures. Our health depends on acknowledging them: our racial health, physical health, emotional health, political health, spiritual health. I think you get what I’m saying. It’s up to us to always remember and to inform our progeny of familial history.

The question for me is never do we acknowledge our ancestors but “How do we acknowledge them?” I told of a cautionary tale in my “Death of a Superwoman.” I mentioned a bit in my “Proper Tribute” post. But now and in the next few posts, I want to discuss as God’s Woman following God’s Word the proper and improper ways to acknowledge our ancestors. This is important for me as a recovering strong black woman with the collective legacy of racial and gender oppression. Even with these factors, God’s Word must trump my race and my gender. What are your thoughts? What do you think are the proper and improper ways to acknowledge ancestors? I’ll start by saying this picture displays a great way to acknowledge a great woman of our past.
Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith

My friend Kim Trent (far left), activist Annette Rainwater and National Congress of Black Women President E. Faye Williams stand with a bust of freedom fighter Sojourner Truth, the first black woman to be acknowledged with a statue in the US Capitol's statutory collection

My friend Kim Trent (far left), activist Annette Rainwater and National Congress of Black Women President E. Faye Williams stand with a bust of freedom fighter Sojourner Truth, the first black woman to be acknowledged with a statue in the US Capitol's statutory collection