Oh September...

Dearest fair maidens, dashing divas and glamorous gals,




This won't be a long post, it's more of an update than anything. My bornday (which I share with my mother) was  September 6th. It was kind of difficult for me because my mother passed away December of 2009. This was the first bornday without her and I have to say, the weeks leading up to our bornday found me crying more often than not. I miss her physical presence terribly. September 7th was my daughter's sweet 16th bornday...yes, I have a 16 year old daughter (and a 15 year old Sun). Despite my emotional state, she had a great day :-)

My best friend in the whole wide world (who just happens to be my ex-boyfriend) helped me, my Sun and my daughter celebrate our borndays. He took us to dinner, had a custom made cake for us, and bought us all very special gifts perfectly suited to our tastes. He has made this the best bornday ever for me, truly he has. I am very blessed and fortunate to have him in my universe because he is just the most wonderful, kindest, most generous and special man I have ever known.

On a sad note, yesterday was my brother Bryan's 26th bornday and he had a stroke in the early morning hours. This is perhaps his 4th or 5th stroke in the past 3 years I believe. He's paralyzed on the right side of his body and cannot speak. I ask that if you are a praying person that you please keep him in yours.


Due to all that's going on right now, I'm afraid I must suspend the give away I had planned for this month. I'm sure you'll all understand. I'm not sure when I'll post again so please bear with me.

Thanks for understanding and thanks in advanced for keeping my brother Bryan in your prayers.

My Bornday Reflections (Originally posted 9-7-05)

As borndays go...it sucked I guess. I mean I was stood up by three people, only two people from my family called me (one was my mother because it was her birthday too) and only one of my so-called friends called me. Suffice it to say, I was upset. In retrospect, I guess there's so much going on in the world right now...who really cares about my bornday. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, me being alive one more year doesn't really matter to anyone but me, my children and my mother. Unless of course, I commit a heinous crime or make a startling contribution to society. The highlight of my bornday was when my Sun and daughter strung up banners throughout the house while I was in my room napping. When I awoke I was quite surprised and touched to see the messages of love and appreciation hanging on walls and from the arches of doorways. What wonderful, considerate, kind, creative, industrious little people I am producing. On this day when no one else bothered or remembered to extend a kind word my way...they did. They are all that really matter. Not having a roomful of friends and family share in the celebration of my making it through another year or even receiving gifts that I'd probably hate anyway. My Sun and daughter are my legacy...the only pieces of me that will remain when my body gives out and my spirit transitions. They are the greatest gifts I could ever receive from and give to the universe. I pledge to ensure that my seeds are free and strong in mind and spirit. They are the reason for my bornday. The only reason. It was a great bornday after all.

Oh, and I've decided that once I have 2-3 inches of new growth I'm shearing the tresses and I'm changing my name. It is time to shed the last vestiges of my mental enslavement. I am tired of physically endorsing eurocentric beauty standards. I am tired of this european name. I am tired of destroying my African hair with poisonous chemicals. I am tired of denying my Afrikanity in favor of eurocentricity. By God, I aim to be free of those that oppress me and my people. White is not right. Black is not evil. Straight hair is not good hair. Khadijah is not a ghetto name. I'm gonna be nappy and happy. Don't call me black either. There is no country called black. There is no language called black. I did not descend from blacks...I am descended of AFRICANS. Slave and free, those that walked on African soil and those that soaked the ground of ameriKKKa with their blood and sweat. I am the dream realized. I embody Marcus Garvey's hopes, I epitomize Kwame Ture's fire, I am that which Huey and Bobby fought for. Through me Patrice, Assata, Haile, Fred, Sojourner, Harriet, Nzinga, Shaka, Imhotep, etc will live. I am the dream realized. Fuck you self-hatred!