Tripsy on Thursday

Haven't been here in a few days. All is good. Drank my 74 ounces of water. So onto:

Nevada Senator Henry Reid who tried for the compliment card to our now President Barack Obama. That Barack Obama was well worth the race to the White House, because America was indeed ready since he was of "light skin" and no distinctive “Negro dialect.”

Where's the compliment? Sadly, alot of folks, black and white, think this. In my own life history, I've been told I had 'pretty colored skin.' Never really got that, especially when white kids would still call me 'nigger.' I just remembered, once in high school, a rough neck, just missed my face with his shot of spit. Years later he apologized how he treated me bad because I was 'colored.' He told me this over a beer. Hmm. Guess I was a bit ahead of President Obama with his sit down with the policeman and Henry Gates.

Back on topic, a boyfriend--a black one-told me he didn't think I was 'black or street' enough to stay with him. I'm still not sure what made him so 'street'---how he liked The Dave Mathews Band or hid his pot in his balcony's light fixture? He lived on the 3rd floor.

And this Negro dialect. What EXACTLY is that? All my life, and I do mean ALL my life, I can't tell you how many black folks say I don't sound 'black' enough. It hurts, especially when it came from folks that were to be part of your family--they were really STEP family--yet, nonetheless. And then, about 10 years ago, a guy I was just getting to know, invited me for Easter dinner. As we waited for food to ready, I joined the others on a house stoop, barefoot and sipped a beer that hailed from Canada. We all gabbed and laughed, when on this 20 something young lady goes, "You don't sound like us. You ain't from here, are you?" I could have gotten ticked, yet I laughed. She was SO serious, I couldn't get mad. Maybe I taught her a little something that day... I dunno.

Then there was the time, I decided to check out a school in Kansas City. I'd just talked, several timeson phone, to the counselor--this was so way before the internet. Well, on the day we met, face to face, I stood with my 5th Street Friend, as the counselor-a white woman- walked into the room. She looked from me to 5th Street and then walked toward 5th Street with hand out. With a smile, a a hard one to maintain, I corrected her. That should have been a sign. The counselor later announced, "You don't sound black." We all kinda laughed it off. So I either don't sound black or I'm not black enough. Go figure.

Looking back, at the moment with the counselor, my pride level wasn't as high as it is now. All the signs pointed to this school was not a good choice for me. I chose to ignore them. Even with the tug in my tummy for the counselor's words, I didn't educate her on what she said. The counselor handed me a compliment--just like Senator Henry Reid thought he handed to our now President Barack Obama.

After all these years, I still gotta ask, "Where is it?"