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May 23, 2013 

TORONTO NEWNESS: Rebirth Of A City + Herbert Carnegie Gala

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Topics about Toronto have been on my mind for the last little while, and no – a certain alleged crack-smoking mayor and the media maelstrom surrounding him have little to do with it.

Toronto is a small town in a big city, if that makes any sense. Everybody seems to know everybody, or know of everybody – and social media has just made the circles even smaller. I’ve been feeling a bit disillusioned with Toronto as of late, and almost felt that I had out-grown it altogether. Was it time to peel off this too-tight sweater of a city and look for a roomier fit somewhere else? HomieLoverFriend and I spent an afternoon playing “Where In The World Should We Go?” before sighing and resigning ourselves to the fact that we probably wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

Within the multifarious Black community in Toronto, it often felt that I was seeing the same faces at events. The same voices behind podiums. The same names listed alongside the titles that have become known to hold weight in our city. Strong and consistent leadership and inspiration is necessary, but stagnation has to be avoided at all costs. If you’re a “leader” who would rather stall progress in order to keep your grip on perceived power, how effective are you?  If you’re a “leader” who functions from an egocentric paradigm, how can you help anyone except yourself? Do you know when it’s time to trust someone to inject fresh energy into your movement?

It seems that a collective disenchantment has given way to fresh, new perspectives. Perhaps my internal yearning for something new led to an external display of all those people who are doing something new. I’m finding a new offering of intelligent and entertaining events. I’m finding a new offering of grassroots organizations that are actively doing crucial work. I’m finding a new definition of what it means to be a “young Black professional” in Toronto, and I’m finding a new demographic of innovative, thought-provoking, passionate people who fit the bill in so many different ways. Call me naive, but it feels that some of the dust has been cleared. The city feels newer to me, filled with more opportunities – and I’m again tasting that delicious anticipation that I haven’t tasted since I first moved here.

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 Photo source: LIWI68

Tonight, I’ll be attending the Herbert Carnegie Future Aces Foundation Gala. The Future Aces Philosophy was created by Herbert Carnegie (one of the first Black NHL players and an accomplished businessman) in 1956 as a way to help youth develop self-knowledge and self-confidence, take control over their lives, and use their abilities in a positive way. Since then, the Foundation has offered scholarships, community projects, and educational programs to assist youth and fulfil Carnegie’s Philosophy. Tonight’s gala will be honouring the work of Bernice Carnegie, daughter of Herbert and Executive Director of the Foundation for the last 17 years. A new Executive Director will continue where Ms. Carnegie has left off, building upon Herbert Carnegie’s legacy and mission.

If I believed in coincidences, I’d call this exactly that – for two reasons. One, being that attending this gala is another new and exciting opportunity for me, continuing my trend of meeting new and exciting people. Two, being that the Future Aces Foundation is a microcosm of the positives I’ve been seeing in Toronto – leadership that trusts the process and creates opportunities for new blood to course through its veins.

Tonight, I’ll be live-tweeting and sharing the Gala via various social media channels (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram), so make sure you tune in! Next week, I’ll also be posting a recap post about the event, so if you’re not there, you’ll be able to feel what the experience was like. Hopefully this is a sign of good things to come for the city and its inhabitants that are craving something more. Keep showing me newness and progression, Toronto. I might just stick around.

Have you ever felt like you’ve outgrown your hometown? If you’re in Toronto, have you felt stagnant or cramped in the city? Are you sensing anything new in the city that is changing your perspective? Lastly, if you’re going to be at the Herbert Carnegie Future Aces Foundation Gala tonight, let a sista know!

May 6, 2013 

COUNTDOWN: My Last Week As A 20-Something

bee20post8This week, I say farewell to my 20s – and I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.

I absolutely love my birthday, and I’m not one to shy away from birthday acknowledgement and celebration – in fact, the running joke between HomieLoverFriend and I is that years ago, I told him one day my birthday would be a national holiday. To date, I haven’t figured out what amazingly influential thing I’ll do to make that come true, but it’s still part of my life plans. In the weeks and days before each birthday, I tend to sit within myself and reflect on the year that is coming to a close – but with my 29th revolution around the sun reaching its finish, I’m sitting here looking back at the decade that was, and imagining the life I want to create in the decade to come.

If I could give my 20s a theme, I think I’d call it the decade of lost and found, or I’d liken it to the act of picking a bouquet of flowers. In my 20s, I gathered experiences that matured me and subsequently felt the winds of change blow away everything I thought I knew. More than once, I’ve had to start gathering my bouquet over again, but the act of lost and found defined me throughout my 20s.

My 20s: When I'd wear denim bikini tops under sheer shirts.

My 20s: When I’d wear denim bikini tops under sheer shirts.

My 20s: When I'd dance on poles in basement jams.

My 20s: When I’d dance on poles in basement jams.

I found the greatest love of my life, then suffered the worst heartbreak of my life. I felt a false sense of power in relationships where he cared about me more than I did him. I had wild nights with my girls, lived the line bypass life, and made Tequila Rose shots my signature drink of the summer of 2005. I achieved educational excellence and started to step out of my shy shell. I took a leap and left the only home I had ever known for the bright lights and big city of Toronto. Health issues knocked me on my ass, but I got back up again and kept living. I worked hard and felt a sense of pride in what I did. I grew to love soca and learned how to cook. I put stamps in my passport. I re-found love, got married, and obtained a new alter-ego – “Mrs. Quammie.” I lost family members in the physical sense, but found myself visited by angels who watch over me closely. I lost sister-friends who were supposed to be there forever, but either found ways to redefine our relationship, or found ways to move on and be OK with the bittersweet memories. I got brave, I got creative, and I found my voice. I stopped thinking about how I was “supposed” to do things, and started doing them in the ways that made sense for me. I nearly reached the end of my rope, but time and time again learned that my grip is strong.

My 20s: When I met Teedra Moses on New Years Eve and my one eye fell asleep.

My 20s: When I met Teedra Moses on New Years Eve and my one eye fell asleep.

My 20s: When I was heavy into modeling.

My 20s: When I was heavy into modeling.

29 was a particularly challenging year. It seemed like my 20s wanted to cram in as much lost and found as possible before I hit 30, but I choose to believe that it happened in such a way to prepare me for the future. I’ve never been more grateful for good days. I’ve never been more hungry for the best life has to offer. I’ve never been as sad as I’ve been at some points this year, but I’ve never been so hopeful for the amazing things to come. Like I wrote in a recent post, I like the woman I’m becoming. Sometimes she needs to be coaxed out of her shell, and sometimes she makes me work hard to earn the right to revel in my womanhood, but she’s there. 30 has got to be good – it’s going to be good, and I know it will because my 20s (especially 29) showed me just how much I can guide the happenings of my life.

I’ll be taking the next few days to ponder what was and think about what’s to be. A new decade, let alone a new year is the time for a fresh start, so I’ll be letting go of that which doesn’t serve me and will get ready for the wonderful things that will find room for themselves in my life. The 20s were a hell of a ride and made a beautifully elaborate bouquet – and I’ll look back fondly at the lessons learned and life lived forever.

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How would you define your 20s? For those who are in their 30s (and beyond) how was the transition into that new decade? Are the 30s as good as everyone says they are? What’s the best thing you’ve experienced in your 30s? 

April 11, 2013 

SLASH ARTISTRY: Balancing Life As An Employee And Entrepreneur

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Hi. My name is Bee, and I’m a slash artist.

A slash artist (as I define it) is a person who carries multiple roles and titles, in a career sense. A few years ago, if you asked me what I did, I’d say “I’m a mental health researcher” or “I’m an account manager for a medical tourism company.” That’s what I did, that’s how I made money, and that was it.

These days, things are different. In efforts to go after goals, indulge in passions, and develop skills that I wasn’t developing in my regular 9-5, I have a new answer to the “What do you do?” question. I can now say that I’m a healthcare professional/blogger/freelance writer/speaker/social media consultant. My linear way of thinking has slowly fallen to the wayside, and I’m more of a Venn diagram of a chick.

Many of the people in my close and extended circles (especially my fellow Gen-Y/Millennials) are also slash artists. Embracing entrepreneurship, seeking out multiple streams of income, and finding ways to go after their dreams have all led to this slash artist boom. It’s a unique place to be in, and comes with its own set of challenges and successes – so how do we make it work?

For me, it’s not as black and white as forcing myself to choose between being an entrepreneur vs. working a traditional 9-5. At this point in my life, I benefit from both, and seek to make both work for me in a symbiotic way. In attempting to do so, I often sit back and take inventory of the things I’m doing, and see how they may be helping or hurting me. If you’re a slash artist who’s juggling both traditional work and passion work (for lack of a better term, since your traditional work may very well be your passion), you might want to do the same.

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Be careful of the hurts

It’s wise to be aware of the fact that your side hustles can come back to hurt you in different ways – especially when working with people who aren’t slash artists. Not everyone understands or sees the benefit in being a diverse person. Some may feel that your aspirations outside of the office will negatively impact your work within the office, even if you’ve never once given them any evidence to support that argument. I was once (allegedly) called a racist by a Google-sleuthing colleague with too much time on their hands. Their overzealous need to understand what I did on my free time led them to deliver “proof” of my extra-curricular activities to the higher-ups who created a mountain out of a mole hill. Guess what happened a year later? That same higher-up requested my help with a project based on the fact that I possessed a specific skill set thanks to those initially problematic extra-curriculars. One day I’ll elaborate, but I’ve learned a few things from that incident:

  • Ensure that you don’t give anyone a reason to believe that your out of office work is taking away from your in office work.
  • Employ whatever set of privacy tools (writing under a nom de plume, restricting access to social media profiles, etc.) you feel are necessary.
  • Educate yourself by reviewing your company’s policy list, and ensure that none of your extra-curriculars breach any of the terms of your employment contract.

My biggest takeaway? Assume. Even though we are told not to assume anything lest you make an ass out of you and me, this is one area where I assume all day long. I consistently assume that employers (whether current or future) have access to my blog, my Facebook, my Twitter, my LinkedIn, my Youtube, my about.me page – to anything that is in anyway public. I assume that and remain intentional in everything I do. If a blog post, Facebook post, tweet, or participation in an event comes back to bite me in the 9-5 ass, am I prepared to stand by it and accept my fate, or will I regret doing it? I weigh that out every time I engage in MY work, and it guides me well.

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Look for the positives

Given some of the places I’ve worked and some of the experiences I’ve had, I’ve become hyper-conscious of how my social media/blogging/freelancing/speaking life impacts my 9-5 life. However, I’m happy to see that more and more employers are beginning to understand the value of the slash artist. A friend mentioned that she obtained her corporate PR job because of the fact that she had a personal blog – and this is becoming more common from what I see.

A quick glance at open job descriptions shows that more employers are looking for people with skills that may or may not have been developed in the traditional sense. Social media is becoming very prominent in business, so your side gig as a freelance social media consultant could come in handy. Positions that call for a candidate who is resourceful, creative, and organized may find their pick in someone who’s organized events in the community. If you’ve been invited to speak at a conference in your given side hustle field, sliding that into your resume may help you snag a corporate position. As the “do what you have to have to do, not what you want to do” generation of workers clears out, we may just find that more employers will embrace diversity in skill sets and experiences outside of those displayed on the typical resume.

You may choose to live a Clark Kent/Superman existence and keep your lives as separate as possible as opposed to blending your various skills and experiences – and that’s OK. It may actually be preferable based on your particular fields, but if your side-hustle skills can give you a leg up in the job hunt or help you win an internal promotion, use them! I’m a firm believer that one can wear both hats – you can be a valuable and productive employee and still have the passion and drive to go after your personal dreams. To be a successful and balanced slash artist, be wise, be intentional, and be creative. You never know how things might work out!

Are you a slash artist? How do you juggle your various hats? How has being a slash artist hurt or helped you? 

March 28, 2013 

4 IN 24: Four “A-ha” Moments That Will Change The Game

Awakening

Within the span of 24 hours (from Tuesday night to Wednesday night), I learned four very important lessons. A better descriptive word might be “revelation”, or as my Auntie Oprah calls them, “A-ha moments”.

These four crucial frames of thought found their ways into my consciousness through various means. While engaging in a Twitter conversation. In the midst of giving advice to a friend. After giving myself a pep talk while driving on the highway. After hearing a phrase repeated over and over again. Four different methods that showed me that messages are all around us, and will seep in once we open up and allow them to.

Leave Room For Surprises

Yesterday morning, I read a great piece on Ebony called “Love, Beyonce Style” by Josie Pickens. I engaged Josie on Twitter (@jonubian) in a discussion about her piece, and discovered that we both had a lot in common with various things surrounding love and life in general (“we’re kindred”, she tweeted to me). As I mentioned to y’all before, I’m working on my control freak issues. Even though I adopted “Let life happen” as my new mantra, I started slipping recently. Instead of letting life happen, I was starting to play my puzzle game again, trying to slot the pieces into the kind of picture I thought I wanted (and needed) to see. During my Twitter chat with Josie, she mentioned the same control issues, but wrote “My morning meditation was centered on the idea that we need to allow ‘surprise’ in our lives.” Immediately, I snapped back into reality and cooled off on the control tip. For someone who loves surprises as much as I do, I was doing a great job at making sure there was ZERO chance that life would ever be able to grant me any. A-ha moment #1.

Do What You’re Good At

I was having a conversation with a friend about the work we’ve been doing outside of our respective 9-5s. We talked about the kind of gelling that happens when you’re doing something you love, and you get feedback from the outside world that you’re pretty damn good at what it is that you’re doing. I said to him,

See, that might be where we’re worrying about the wrong things…so many of us are trying to figure out what our thing is, and wasting time trying to fit square pegs into round holes, simply because we think the round holes are where its at. When you find something you’re good at, it comes naturally to you, you want to learn and grow and do better at it, and people love the shit? To me, THAT’S what your thing should be.

He nodded and agreed, but I was the one who sat back and took in what had just tumbled out of my mouth. I’ve been (am?) that person trying to get in where she fits in while turning a blind eye to the fact that she doesn’t really fit in. That person who has described herself as a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. That person who has beaten herself over the head about things she feels she’s not good at – yes, there’s something to be said about taking on the challenge to do things that are difficult, but there’s another thing to say about the person who continues to self-sabotage by forcing improvement where there probably won’t be any. Am I spending enough time learning and growing and doing better with the things I love and am good at already? A-ha moment #2.

What Speaks To You? 

This lesson somewhat fits with the lesson above. On Tuesday night, HomieLoverFriend and I attended Dwayne Morgan’s Spoken Wordz 4 event. One of the poets (and the only woman on the billing) Lishai started off with a dope piece about the motivations behind being an artist. She kept repeating “What speaks to you?” and I was enraptured. Even my date noticed, and leaned over to whisper “You really liked that one, didn’t you?” Wednesday morning, I was driving to work when I heard an ad on the radio that asked “What speaks to you?” and I immediately flashed back to Lishai. At lunch, I overheard two women talking – in the middle of a mouthful of McDonald’s french fries, one said to the other “So, what speaks to you?” By then, I wanted to yell out “OK! I get it!” – but that would have been crazy. I’m taking that constant repetition of the phrase as a notice that maybe I should be paying attention to, or further investigating what speaks to me. A-ha moment #3.

Expecting Bad vs. Expecting Good

I was on my way to an important appointment on Wednesday evening, and was giving myself a little pep talk while breezing down the highway. Sometimes I feel the need to get my thoughts out in the open, and a 45-minute drive all by myself was the perfect opportunity. I was thinking/talking about how I realize words have so much power – in the past, I’ve been surprised when things I’ve said pointedly came to fruition, and noticed that it almost always happened when I focused on the negative. “Why is it so easy to expect the bad, and not to expect the good?” I wondered aloud. Why is that? Maybe it’s just the way my brain is wired, but it’s so much easier to imagine the worst things happening – meanwhile the best things seem like unreachable, lofty goals. Is it possible to re-wire my brain, and make my hopes and expectations of good things just as possible to manifest as my fears and worries of bad things? All I know is, I’d much rather speak of positive things and see them come to fruition than to give the negative an open-door invitation to my life. A-ha moment #4. 

I reached home on Wednesday night and sat in front of my computer while it hummed and came to life. I’d been scribbling notes and phrases on scrap pieces of paper, and couldn’t wait to get home and into the loving arms of WordPress. Thinking back to these various messages and lessons, one thought came to mind: “Tomorrow is going to be a different day.” If these messages can stick with me longer than it takes to say “A-ha”, that will most definitely be true.

What do you think of these “lessons”? Has anything come to you recently that you’re trying to implement into your own life? 

March 21, 2013 

ARTSY FARTSY: ‘Home Again’ Film Screening Review

HomeAgain
Murphy’s Law: an adage that states that “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” Sometimes it feels that no matter what we do, life throws us lemon after lemon, knocking over the glasses of lemonade we’ve resigned ourselves to and laughing at us in the process. Other times, the choices we make are the things that steer us headfirst into misfortune. Either way, Murphy’s Law finds its way into our lives at one point or another – and this was one of the unforgettable lessons of Sudz Sutherland’s gripping new film, Home Again.

I was lucky enough to obtain a press pass to the film courtesy of Hungry Eyes Film & Television and G 98.7FM. Home Again opens at select theatres across the GTA, Vancouver, and Montreal this Friday, but I was excited to screen the movie in advance.

Home Alone stars Tatyana Ali, Lyriq Bent, Stephan James, Fefe Dobson, and CCH Pounder as various characters who have their lives changed in Jamaica. Marva (Ali), Dunston (Bent), and Everton (James) are 3 deportees from Toronto, NYC, and London England who all find themselves forced back to a country they all left before the age of 5.

Poor decisions (well-intentioned or otherwise) landed the three back in Jamaica, but Murphy’s Law was what welcomed them with open arms. Home Again unfolds itself in their stories which often intersect in interesting ways, and shows us the lengths that people will go to in order to survive – no matter how many times life tries to knock them down.

The husband-wife team of Sutherland and Jennifer Holness wrote a story that was complex without being too messy, and eye-opening without being too invasive. Each character offered such a multi-dimensional view of family, loyalty, relationships, and the deportation process in general that any one could have had an entire film crafted solely around them. Deportation within the diaspora has become such a common theme that it’s hard to step back and really look at the layout of the process until you’re forced to – and that’s what this movie did for me. I recall some of my father’s friends being deported when I was young, but I absorbed it as something that just happened. You shrug your shoulder, buy a few international phone cards, and move on with life. Home Again exposed the audience to the failures of the system on all sides – the “foreign” country’s unfair deportation practices (usually for low-level crimes), family negligence of proper filing of paperwork, and Jamaica’s lack of support for those who return, unfamiliar and lost in a place that they never knew.

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At many times throughout the film, I wondered if any of our protagonists would have a happy ending. Marva left children behind in Toronto, and her Jamaican family is less than supportive. Dunston hopped from one life of crime in New York to another in Kingston. Everton was the private school-educated young man with a promising future whose naivete affected him the most out of any other character in the film. Needless to say, Home Again overflows with searing reality. In real life, not everyone can have a happy ending, and art definitely imitated life in this case. Gang life, sexual abuse, and drug abuse play as vital roles as any of the characters, but Home Again also has its lighter moments. Themes of love and redemption are strong, and there are crucial comedic moments that add a necessary break from the struggles the main characters face.

I loved the small details in the film as well. Caribbean film usually includes subtitles to assist viewers who can’t catch the fast-moving patois. I often find the subtitles to be jarring – slapped on-screen and sometimes removed too quickly to follow what the character is saying. Sutherland incorporated subtitles that seemed to float across the screen – not taking your attention away, but not leaving you lost in the process. I also loved the nuance used with regards to sex and sexuality in the film. I’m no prude, but I’ve grown weary of the gratuitous sex scenes that I’ve seen in other Caribbean film. I may just be sensitive to reinforcing the hypersexualized stereotypes of Caribbean men and women, but it was refreshing to see sexuality played out in a more subdued (yet equally effective) way. The cinematography was utterly gorgeous – though the film was shot in Trinidad, the arranged settings of Trenchtown, Spanish Town, and other areas of Jamaica were beautiful. My biggest concern was how the actors would pull off authentic Jamaican accents, and I was pleasantly surprised for the most part! My ear could pick out a few actors who were clearly Trinidadian playing Jamaicans, and some other cast members fell flat with a bit of their pronunciation, but overall it was great. In fact, the mixture of Torontonian, New Yorker, Jamaican, and British accents were like musical melodies, and was an audible tie to the diasporic reach of Jamaica, and the Caribbean at large.

Home Again had the theatre laughing, gasping, cursing and the screen, and dead silent. The surprises and “did that REALLY just happen?” moments kept us on the edge of our seats and engrossed in the story playing out in front of us. The heartbreaking moments, the difficult-to-watch moments, the moments that gave us respite from the harsh realities of what we were ingesting – it was all laid out in perfect puzzle piece form, with everything eventually coming together to give us one cohesive view. Though Murphy’s Law was prominent for me, Home Again also left me with a strong sense of perseverance and the fact that the next choice you make might just have the power to turn things around. If you’re looking for an amazing film that educates while it emotes and entertains, Home Again is what you need in your life.

 For my Toronto/Vancouver/Montreal peeps, Home Again hits select theatres starting this Friday! PLEASE go out to support on opening weekend, and let the power of Canadian-Caribbean cinema be known! Check the Home Again Facebook page for more details. For my American friends, check the Home Again site to see when the film might be playing in your area. Caribbean cinema is making serious moves – Storm Saulter is seeing big success with the AFFRM-backed release of his film Better Mus Come (which I reviewed last year), so the sky is the limit for Home Again! Definitely let me know what you thought of the film after you see it! 

March 14, 2013 

EMBRACING IT: Becoming The Woman Of My Dreams

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I’ve been feeling very womanly lately. I’m not sure if it’s the double-dose of Venus I have in my natal chart via my Taurus sun and Libra rising signs, or if it’s the fact that I’m almost 30, or if it’s the fact that my music choice du jour is anything where I can bust out a fierce, lusty body roll. I caught myself saying “Now, THIS is some grown music!” while listening to Justin Timberlake’s new album The 20/20 Experience, and immediately worried that I was turning into one of those old, crotchety women who yell at kids to get off her lawn – but then I remembered that just a week before, I was in the club hollering 3-6 Mafia and 2 Chainz lyrics and dutty wining for my life. I knew I hadn’t lost much of my youthful joie de vivre, but I’ve just been feeling…different lately.

Everyone tells me it’s the fact that I’m about to hit 30 – the decade which everyone promises will bring you heightened self-realization, confidence, and libido, and lowers the amount of damns you have to give about things and people that don’t really matter. This makes some sense to me, because when I think about the things I’ve both embraced and let go, they fit well with the gifts that the 30s bring.

I’m starting to feel an unfamiliar calmness and – dare I say it – satisfaction with my body. I feel like I’ve been at odds with it for most of my life. It never looked the way I thought it should look. Sometimes it didn’t behave the way I thought it should have behaved. I haven’t deciphered yet if I’ve just conceded the fight and given up, or if I’ve really started to accept myself as is. That’s not to say that I’m not consistently working to improve on what I can improve on, and that’s not to say I’ll never have an “ugh” day ever again, but I’m really starting to feel settled in my body, and I like it.

With that sense of comfort comes a renewed interest in how I present myself to the world. After going to Solange Knowles’ concert a few weeks ago, I realized that I really loved how she looked. I loved the detail in her outfit, the shoes she wore, the mani/pedi she had, the red lip she rocked. I remembered how much fun I used to have with my outer appearance – not for sheer vanity’s sake, but for the sake of looking at myself like a canvas that could become a different masterpiece on a daily basis. I was looking at some vintage photos of Diana Ross in her heyday, and thirsted for a bit of flair and glamour in my life. I can’t remember the last time I got a mani/pedi, or bought new makeup, or got a new outfit – my excuse had been not wanting to spend money where I don’t have to, but I realized I’ve been stifling a part of my creativity that really used to thrive. I found myself on The Fashion Bomb the other day for the first time in what felt like forever – and it wasn’t until then that I realized how much I had been starving myself of the things I love about fashion and makeup and all things pretty. It’s time to turn that around and get my swagger back. Are the kids still saying that?

Forgive the heteronormativity of my next statement, but there’s nothing like the love and support of a good man to make you feel all delicious and womanly. At least, that’s how I feel with me and mine. I continue to get deeper and deeper into what it means to be someone’s life partner – and it regardless of the ups and downs, it feels wonderful. It’s one thing to talk about the roles partners play in relationships, but it’s another thing when sh*t hits the fan and you have to put those words into action. I’m just lucky enough to have someone who moves like a game of Tetris with me – we shift and slot ourselves into whatever space needs filling to ensure that we maintain a solid foundation to build on. Damn. I’ve equated our relationship to a lot of different things, but Tetris is a new one. Anyways, as Martin says, “You feel a calm, don’t ya, like me and Gina! You got somebody that got you!” 

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A newfound confidence and assertiveness has awoken in me lately too. I’ve been finding myself bold enough to cut through the bullsh*t and ask for what I want, say what I like, what I don’t like, what I want more of, or what I never want again. I’m re-creating myself to be the kind of woman who believes that life happens for her, instead of resigning herself to the helpless position of life happening to her. I’m starting to see new areas of life that I can actively take charge in – areas that I can proudly make my own. It’s this confidence and assertiveness that is positively affecting a lot of the other things I mentioned above. Owning my sexuality, my sensuality, feeling a new strength, making my imperfections work in my favour, recognizing my gifts - all of these things are expressed differently now than they ever have before, which – to me – feels like a big part of what grown womanhood is all about.

Since I was small, I’ve held a vision of what I thought the coolest, most beautiful, smartest, funniest, most self-assured and effervescent woman looked like, and I feel like I’m finally starting to morph into her. I’m humbled by the privilege I have of saying that I like the woman I’m becoming, but dammit, I do – and I’m ready to have some fun.

Ladies – regardless of age, do you feel like you’ve grown into your womanhood? Was there a moment when you felt you matured from “girl” to “woman”? What motivated that shift? What does womanhood mean and look like to you?

P.S. The 20/20 Experience is a problem. See my earlier tweet and be warned:

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March 11, 2013 

CREPES, CONVERSATION, & CONTROL: Things I Learned On My Sunday Date

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In Kensington Market, Toronto

In keeping with our mandate of dating while married, HomieLoverFriend and I spent a beautiful Sunday afternoon meandering around the eclectic Kensington Market area in downtown Toronto. I’ve lived in Toronto for 6 years, and this was the first time I ventured to the market (sad, I know) – but I’ll definitely be back. The creative and independent vibe of the area is a fresh respite from the corporate branding mold of other shopping areas in Toronto – and if you like to people-watch and dream up stories about the lives of passers-by like I do, it’s the perfect spot.

Usually, we like to have our dates in the evenings – we’ll hit up a cool dinner spot, check out a movie, or hit a lounge for drinks and slow-dancing in dark corners. However, Sunday lived up to its celestial name and gave us a beautiful, sunshiny day, and I wanted us to take full advantage of it. So, down to Kensington Market we went, where we settled into a quiet corner of a quaint cafe for crêpes, tea, and conversation.

Parking: $3.75

Food and beverages: $15.00

Conversation, and the revelations therein: priceless. 

We’ve both got a lot on the go this year. We’re working on our own separate projects, we have some that we’re working on together, we’re both working full-time jobs, and we’re working to achieve some really important goals in the next 12 months. If you haven’t caught the gist of it yet, we’re doing a whole lot of work. HLF is calm and able to compartmentalize extremely well. I get worked up and my brain plays out like a cerebral Matryoshka doll – one big thought leads to another thought which leads to another and another…

I was in one of those Matryoshka thought patterns during our date. A lot of awesome things are coming to fruition (which I’ll let y’all know about in time), and there are some other potentially awesome things in the works – but they still reside in the land of the unknown. That’s where I struggle. I’m constantly trying to strategize my life to ensure the best possible outcome, and unknowns don’t fit well in my plans. I was talking to HLF about the many different ways things could go depending on how these unknowns play out – “If A happens, then I can do B, then we can do C in about 6 months, and by next year, we’ll have D. OR – If X works out, we’ll wait for Y, and then I’ll do Z. Either way, I’m just trying to play with the various puzzle pieces and see what works the best.”

He looked at me with the most amused face, then said something that really changed the game for me.

“You’re not so good at puzzles. I think you need to try word searches or something, because this jigsaw puzzle thing…it just isn’t working.” He then proceeded to read me for filth and snatch my wig in the most loving way about my issues with control and how it was doing me more harm than good.

life_puzzle

This is something I’ve written about before, and something I continue to work through. I am actively working on relinquishing my need for control, and trying to have more faith that things will work out even if I can’t plan and see every step of the way. HLF asked me about how much faith I honestly think I possess – and I realized it was pretty low. I have a fear of regret, a fear of doing things the “wrong” way – and while I’ve moved past my previous issue of not doing ANYTHING because of my fear of failure, I’m now struggling with the issue of doing things, but trying to control every possible aspect. It’s exhausting. HLF reminded me that I’m smart and resilient and we’re a team – so what I should be focusing on is increasing the faith in myself that regardless of what happens – I (and we) will be alright.

I told HLF about how so many things were going on, and it felt like this was an exhilarating yet really scary time. It reminded me of when I would ride my bike with my younger brother back in the day – we’d race each other and go fast, fast, fast  - and at first it was fun to feel the wind whipping my face and to go so fast that my feet flew off the pedals. Then in an instant, I’d get scared that I couldn’t stop or that I’d fall or otherwise lose control.

Him: “Did you ever lose control? Did anything bad ever happen?”

Me: “Nope.”

Him: “Did you ever win the race?”

Me: “Hell yeah!”

Him: “Well, apply that same thinking to life today. Have your game plan, but don’t be a slave to it. Life will throw curveballs, and you’ve got to be able to roll with them. You know when too much is too much – but don’t let the fears of what you could achieve hold you back. Nothing bad ever happened before, so…” 

He stabbed a piece of strawberry crêpe, swirled it around in confectioner’s sugar, and stuck it in his mouth without realizing that he just opened up the heavens and showered me with a new way of thinking. That bike-riding story had always stopped at my fear of losing control – I never extended it to the fact that nothing bad ever happened. Plotting every step of everything was making me more exhausted than the actual act of doing the things that are within my control. By the time we wrapped up our afternoon date, I had such a clearer view (and dare I say it – game plan) on the things I battle with the most: trusting myself, letting life happen, and easing up my vice grip on the way I think things should be.

And just in case I fall back into hardcore jigsaw puzzle mode, I bought a book of word searches. I really am better at those anyways.

Are you a control freak like me? How do you manage it? If you’re more of a let-life-happen type, let me know how you avoid the trap of being overly controlling! And if you’re in Toronto, let me know what your favourite Kensington Market shop is! The warm weather is coming and I’ll be heading down there more often! 

March 4, 2013 

PRIVILEGE & POSITION: My Debate On…Well, The Black Hair Debate

black-women-washington-post-survey

I’m not sure about y’all, but my Twitter timeline on Friday was taken over by the #blkhairpenn hashtag, full of tweets and thoughts from the University of Pennsylvania’s special event, The Politics of Black Hair Symposium. Guests included professor Anthea Butler, MSNBC show host Melissa Harris-Perry, Patrice Grell Yursik (aka Afrobella), and others – all deciphering, celebrating, and debating the state of Black hair in today’s society. UPenn was very forward-thinking by allowing the entire symposium to be livestreamed on the web, but alas – there was no way I was pulling off watching the event while I was at work. Thankfully, Twitter kept me in the loop – and from that medium alone, it looked like a really intelligent and thought-provoking gathering of minds.

I’m not sure if the #blkhairpenn discussions were the catalyst, but I ended up engaging in a friendly debate with a fellow Tweeter about the seemingly never-ending discussions around Black hair. At the end of the day, I agreed to disagree, but I left the debate wondering about how personal privilege plays into the way we take in conversations around hair. Let me explain.

The points my debate partner made were:

  • The constant “debate” over natural vs. relaxed is tired.
  • Perming (or going natural) doesn’t change who you are as a person or what you’ve accomplished.
  • It’s time to debate over more important things like investing stocks and best ways to earn more money.
  • Linking hair to self-esteem is a point she would pass on, as there are better things to discuss.
  • Hair (for her) is fun, or an expression of mood. It’s not a reflection of worth.
  • Hopefully we reach a stage where the discussion isn’t relevant.

Now, I didn’t totally disagree with some of her points. I do think the surface discussions of “natural vs. relaxed” are exhausting and pointless, because the divisiveness of the “vs.” creates more problems than what one chooses to do with their hair. In that same vein, I also hope we reach a point where the debate isn’t constantly at the forefront. However, I personally feel that the only way we’ll get there is through the discussion and debate, so to deny their worth outright is faulty.

To me, the kinds of discussions we’re having about hair now are new. If we look at our parent’s generation, these debates and expressions of self were not happening the way they are today. I was having a conversation with my mom and one of her friends recently. My mom is in the transitioning process, but still struggles with negative self-talk and isn’t yet able to see the beauty in her natural hair. In the conversation, it was crystal clear that so many notions around hair that my mom and her friend held were deeply embedded from their own childhood and life experiences. They spoke so reverently of the difference with my generation – how so many women my age were proud to own their hair choices without the same anxiety and negativity that they did. Not only was it re-affirming for them to see me and others wear our hair naturally and proudly, it was interesting for them to see women (like a friend of mine) who bounce back and forth from relaxed to natural simply because they want to. Their generation was taught that natural hair was for little girls, and relaxed hair was the only suitable option for upstanding and worthy women. You didn’t choose natural hair (because it wasn’t preferable) and you didn’t choose relaxed hair (it was just what you did). So, to have the discussions about the choices and acceptance and why we choose to do the things we do with our hair – and all of the underlying things that weigh into that – is new, and can’t be discredited in my eyes.

Another thing that I took away from my Twitter discussion was to ensure that I monitor my privilege in these kinds of conversations. My debate partner mentioned that she was able to confidently wear her hair in any way she wished, and knew that no matter what, her style choice wouldn’t affect the trajectory of her life or her self-worth. In her words, she felt other women needed to “get over it and move on”. I applauded her for her confidence, but had to remind her that not everyone shares that same sentiment. For SO many women I know – of all races and cultures – hair is indeed a marker of self-esteem. For Black women particularly, whose hair has been the source of much political and personal scrutiny by ourselves and others, we are just now moving into an awakening of healthy self-esteem – and hair plays a major role. For every woman I meet who says she’s 100% confident in her hair and how she chooses to wear it, I meet at least 5 others who definitely aren’t. Just because my debate partner and I may feel confident, it doesn’t mean that we must force every other woman to hurry up and get over it to join us. Sometimes, I feel we need to put down our privilege and meet people where they are, instead of minimizing their current point of development. If we use that self-confidence to inspire others and introduce them to a new way of thinking that may serve them better, that is much more beneficial than discarding the discussion altogether.

Now, do I feel that every debate or conversation about Black hair is worthwhile? I’ve seen quite a few that, as Kanye would say, have people worried ’bout the wrong things. Combative discussions, “let me talk over you because I think my point is the only correct one” conversations, conversations that are a waste of time because we aren’t even scratching the surface of what needs to be discussed…I’ve seen them all, and leave much more frustrated than enlightened. As I mentioned to my debate partner, I think the conversations are important, but the way we are having them may not be effective. In my eyes, two things will help us move to a place where we can effectively move past the divisiveness and combativeness: we need to have intelligent and honest conversations about hair (like UPenn’s Symposium), and we need those with unbridled self-confidence to share it with those who may need the boost.

What do you think of debates and discussions on Black hair? How confident do you truly feel in the way you choose to wear your hair? Did you tune into the UPenn Symposium on the Politics of Black Hair? What did you think?

February 21, 2013 

SHY STORIES: Confidence & Coming Out Of Your Shell

overcome-shyness

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in familiar territory, but doing very unfamiliar things.

I was sitting in front of my laptop (as usual), my “idea notebook” open with loose pages strewn around me (as usual), tapping my foot and bopping my head to Jay-Z like I do when I’m in work mode (as usual). However, instead of crafting a new blog post or working on a pitch like I might usually be doing, I was working simultaneously on an audition tape and an application to speak at an upcoming conference. For both submissions, I had to go through the awkward process of crafting a biography detailing the work I’ve done.

Now – I could write a whole post detailing the somewhat dual identity I have in life. There’s the woman who goes to work Monday-Friday from approximately 9am-5pm, and then there’s the woman who writes blogs and gets articles published by Chatelaine and speaks on panels and does social media consulting – but I won’t go there today. Work in this instance was work related to the latter-described woman, and as I started documenting all of the non-9-to-5 I’ve done, especially the various speaking engagements I’ve had, I realized something that made me almost giddy.

I’m definitely not the same woman I used to be.

I have always described myself as shy. My parents tell me I was a ham of a baby, and the pictures show it – but my shyness started when I got admitted to a performing arts school in Grade 4. I loved the arts and did well in school – but I usually hated having any kind of attention on me, which has persisted for most of my life. I’ve become used to drawing attention to myself – being a 6-foot tall Black woman with hair and heels that add another few inches usually makes people take notice – but I’ve rarely ever been comfortable enough in my skin to just relax and let it be.

microphone

Public speaking was one of those things that was a major “hell to the nawl” for me. Take, for instance, the speech competitions we had to do in school. I always had so much fun writing them, but the week of speeches left me with a churning stomach and cold sweats until I finally stammered through my piece and booked it back to my desk.

When it came to public speaking, there were so many things I wasn’t confident about. Would I be able to get my words out effectively? Would I sound smart? Would I be interesting? Would I get that yucky pasty white stuff in the corners of my mouth? Would a curse word slip out? Would my habit of talking with my hands get so out of control that it looks like I’m trying to fly away? So many questions, so many concerns, so little confidence.

It’s almost been a year since the first speaking engagement I got as Bee the blogger – not Bee the student or Bee the employee. The first speaking engagement where someone thought I personally represented something of value, and thought I would have something of value to share with them and their circle. Since then, I’ve done panels and podcasts and co-hosted webshows – and it wasn’t until recently that I felt little Bee tug my sleeve and said, “Do you see what you’re doing?” In my mind, I looked back at her, held her hand, and said, “Yes I see it – and I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

Then, while drafting my biography, I realized that the difference between little Bee and big Bee – confidence.

I’ve been feeling a lot more confident these days – much more than I recall feeling previously in life. I feel a change in the way I carry myself, the way I talk, the way I choose who is and isn’t given the priviledge of being in my space. That confidence has slowly become intertwined in the things I do on a daily basis, and now I find myself much more willing and excited to do something that used to make me physically ill – public speaking. Fears of how I am perceived, received, and understood haven’t completely subsided, but those fears are no longer as crippling as they used to be.

The fact that I came to this revelation while submitting an application to speak at a conference (what?) and while submitting an audition tape (WHAT?) is really mind-boggling. Little Bee is somewhere watching and laughing – not at me, but more in amazement at what I’m doing (and trying to do) these days. Coming out of my shell, getting over fears, and having fun with the result makes it all worth it.

Have you been able to get over any specific fears in your life? How much has increased confidence affected fears you once held? 

February 12, 2013 

SISTERHOOD & FRIENDSHIP: The Door By Ava DuVernay & Miu Miu

What do you get when you combine the following:

  • Beautiful cinematography
  • Beautiful Black women
  • Beautiful clothing
  • Beautiful music

and

  • A beautiful storyline?

As I found out last night, you get The Door – an amazing artistic partnership between filmmaker Ava DuVernay and fashion brand Miu Miu.

Ava DuVernay was the first African-American woman to win the Best Director Prize at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival for her film Middle of Nowhere. She collaborated with Miu Miu to create a short film as part of the fashion brand’s “Women’s Tales” series, featuring an awesome showing of Miu Miu clothing – and it is gorgeous. Starring Gabrielle Union, Alfre Woodard, Adepero Oduye, Emayatzy Corinealdi, and Goapele, this 9-minute short uses everything except words to tell a poignant story of sisterhood and self-discovery. This was a lovely yet unexpected visual that gave me something I didn’t know I needed.

Here’s the description from Miu Miu:

The Door, by Ava DuVernay, the fifth Miu Miu Women’s Tale, is a celebration of the transformative power of feminine bonds, and a symbolic story of life change. The symbolic centre of The Door is the front entrance of the protagonist’s home. As she opens it to greet a friend in the powerfully framed opening scenes, she is shrouded in an oblique sadness.

“In the film, characters arrive at the door of a friend in need, bringing something of themselves,” explains director DuVernay. “Eventually, we witness our heroine ready to walk through the door on her own. The door in the film represents a pathway to who we are.”

Clothing is also a symbol of renewal, each change of costume charting our heroine’s emergence from a chrysalis of sadness. In the final scenes, she takes off her ring, pulls on long, black leather gloves, and walks, transformed by the emotive power of the clothing, through the door.

Watch The Door here:

YouTube Preview Image

I may be in a particularly sensitive frame of mind right now, but The Door touched me. It made me think about the themes of friendship and sisterhood, love and loss, and who I would lean on in my time of need.

I have a select few close girlfriends who make my heart sing with their love, sincerity, and support. Friends who make me so proud that I celebrate their successes as fervently as if they were my own. Friends who are down for whatever, whenever, however – and I love them. On the flip side, I’ve also experienced the dreaded girlfriend break-up, which has always felt worse than almost any boyfriend break-up in my life.

I once had a sister-friend who would have been the Adepero/Emayatzy/Goapele to my Gabrielle, if it ever came down to it. And if she was Gabrielle, I undoubtedly would have played any one of the supportive sisters to her. I would have bet my last dollar on those facts – but had I ever made such a deal, I would be broke-pocketed and assed-out right now. One day I may write and vent it out, but today I choose to leave the past in peace. I find myself stepping over the charred remains of that friendship with lessons learned, guards up, and a heart temporarily hardened – but I’ve closed that door, and I’m better for it.

Alfre Woodard looks like an older version of my mother, so I always have a soft spot for her and the maternal vibe that radiates everytime I see her. Her presence in The Door was no different, but this time her representation brought to mind someone other than my mother.

We were an unlikely pair. Me – 6ft tall, Black, early twenties, Jamaican-Canadian; her – almost 5ft, White, early sixties, with a shock of red hair and a soft English accent. We worked together in a cosmetics department for a few years, but shared a special Odd Couple-teacher/student kind of friendship. Determining who played what role depended on the lesson at hand, but I definitely think I learned more. The news of her death this weekend shook me harder than I thought it would – sadness mixed with my own phobia of death, then blended with a sense of urgency for more in this fleeting life. The cherry on top of this tragic smoothie? The guilt I felt at continuously putting off sending her an email or making a quick call to see how she was. I’ll email her tomorrow. I’ll give her a call next week. I always thought about her and smiled fondly when I remembered the good old days. I always meant to connect, but never got around to it – and that guilt is a tough pill to swallow. Like the example before, that door is now closed, but I take the lessons and memories and know I am better for them.

Watching The Door when I did, in the particular frame of mind that I did, left me with an all-encompassing feeling of melancholy. It’s a beautiful kind of sorrow though – the kind that makes my breath get caught in my throat, but reminds me that life goes on once I start to breathe smoothly again. Hurt and loss are what they are, but love and sincere friendship can always be found. As in The Door, I remain blessed to be surrounded by women who know my heart and who let me know theirs. I am blessed to have friendships both past and present that bring out my best self. I’m blessed to have the gift of feminine bonds that progress with me through life’s changes, and who’ll walk with me through any door. Thanks to my friends, my sisters, from then and now – I am blessed.

Not sure if Ava DuVernay and Miu Miu would have expected this kind of response to The Door, but there it is! What did you think of The Door? For my ladies, how do you feel about the sisterhoods you have (or have had) in your life?

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