my brother is in thailand. i sent him an e-mail weeks ago and he still hasn't replied. what up wit dat??!!!? i worry about that boy. we don't get along most of the time but deep down inside, i still.....you know.... .
we are NOT an "i heart you" saying type of family. i wish i came from a family with people in it who i really did love. i wish i came from a family that wasn't dysfunctional.
my parents were never married. they split when i was about 6 or 7. my brother jamal and i have different dads. neither of our fathers were "model dads", although jamal's father makes my father look like cliff huxtable. growing up, i didn't really give all that much thought to the fact that my father wasn't in the picture most of the time, because in the neighborhood i grew up in (bed-stuy, brooklyn) it was a lot more common to not have a dad in the house than it was to have one, unfortunately. far too many black kids grow up this way. this makes me very sad . so my mom had to be mommy and daddy and i think she really resented that. i think she took out a lot of that resentment on my brother and i. her idea of discipline was to beat the hell out of us with a thick ass leather belt, (after she made us strip completely nude) until we got huge welts all over our skin. she would laugh at our welts and tell us it was our fault, we made her do it. she would also smack me in the face REALLY HARD whenever she felt the urge . i hated her with a passion. if i ever have kids, hitting will not be used as a method of discipline EVER. i know first-hand what being hit does to a child's psyche, and it ain't nice.
ironically, i adored my dad because when he did come around he was THE BEST! he never hit me. he was soooo much fun and so patient. he would take me to the movies, and to comic book stores in the village, and to book stores. in the summertime it was coney island. i would spend the night at his house and we would watch old movies until we both fell asleep. i would be so sad when i had to leave. one time i started crying. i wanted to live with him but he wasn't trying to hear that. my dad was a ladies man to the 10th power. no one was going to stop him from living his bachelor lifestyle. not even his daughter.
my mom saw to it that my brother got good grades. he was able to get into a boarding school in new hampshire called st. pauls, through the ABC program, because of his excellent grades. st. paul's is the best thing that ever happened to jamal. he is the intelligent, articulate black man that he is because of st. paul's. he wouldn't be in thailand right now if not for st. pauls. i did not share my brother's love of school. my mom tried to beat me into submission but even that didn't work. no private school for me. i went to an inner city high school that required going through airport-style security just to get in. it is absolutely absurd that kids should have to go through metal detectors and wands and bag searches just to get a (subpar) education. i feel lucky to have made it (halfway) out of the ghetto.
another rambling ass entry from yours truly. if anyone is actually reading this nonsense please let a girl know. say hi. don't be shy. i don't bite. i'm going to go pretend i have a life again now. thanks for stopping by.
we are NOT an "i heart you" saying type of family. i wish i came from a family with people in it who i really did love. i wish i came from a family that wasn't dysfunctional.
my parents were never married. they split when i was about 6 or 7. my brother jamal and i have different dads. neither of our fathers were "model dads", although jamal's father makes my father look like cliff huxtable. growing up, i didn't really give all that much thought to the fact that my father wasn't in the picture most of the time, because in the neighborhood i grew up in (bed-stuy, brooklyn) it was a lot more common to not have a dad in the house than it was to have one, unfortunately. far too many black kids grow up this way. this makes me very sad . so my mom had to be mommy and daddy and i think she really resented that. i think she took out a lot of that resentment on my brother and i. her idea of discipline was to beat the hell out of us with a thick ass leather belt, (after she made us strip completely nude) until we got huge welts all over our skin. she would laugh at our welts and tell us it was our fault, we made her do it. she would also smack me in the face REALLY HARD whenever she felt the urge . i hated her with a passion. if i ever have kids, hitting will not be used as a method of discipline EVER. i know first-hand what being hit does to a child's psyche, and it ain't nice.
ironically, i adored my dad because when he did come around he was THE BEST! he never hit me. he was soooo much fun and so patient. he would take me to the movies, and to comic book stores in the village, and to book stores. in the summertime it was coney island. i would spend the night at his house and we would watch old movies until we both fell asleep. i would be so sad when i had to leave. one time i started crying. i wanted to live with him but he wasn't trying to hear that. my dad was a ladies man to the 10th power. no one was going to stop him from living his bachelor lifestyle. not even his daughter.
my mom saw to it that my brother got good grades. he was able to get into a boarding school in new hampshire called st. pauls, through the ABC program, because of his excellent grades. st. paul's is the best thing that ever happened to jamal. he is the intelligent, articulate black man that he is because of st. paul's. he wouldn't be in thailand right now if not for st. pauls. i did not share my brother's love of school. my mom tried to beat me into submission but even that didn't work. no private school for me. i went to an inner city high school that required going through airport-style security just to get in. it is absolutely absurd that kids should have to go through metal detectors and wands and bag searches just to get a (subpar) education. i feel lucky to have made it (halfway) out of the ghetto.
another rambling ass entry from yours truly. if anyone is actually reading this nonsense please let a girl know. say hi. don't be shy. i don't bite. i'm going to go pretend i have a life again now. thanks for stopping by.
LLL