Amber’d Awakening

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BLACKFACE

Blackface: (n) black·face ˈblak-ˌfās

Definition of BLACKFACE: makeup

applied to a performer playing

a black person especially in a

minstrel show; also: a performer

wearing such makeup

https://www.merriam-

webster.com/dictionary/blackface

I recently came across an article that begged the question if Black History Month still necessary today and I felt it my duty to collect my thoughts on the matter and formulate my own answer to that question…here is that answer. I’m not here for a history lesson but I do so cordially invite you to converse with me at your leisure on historical subject matter. After skimming that article, I thought about exploring aspects more of uncommon knowledge and concepts of black beauty thus we arrive here, a celebration of black essence and a nod to Black History Month through illustrations of the beautifully bold Black Faces on my Black List of Black Brilliance. Let’s dive in, shall we?
Ever try that eye-opener when you line up each standard American coin and analyze it? This what it looks like: Note the only brown coin, the American Penny on which the image of 16th President, Abraham Lincoln, the President who abolished slavery (not for the good of the Slaves), is of the least value and up until 2006, it was the only standard American coin with the President facing right (it technically still is because our current nickel has President Jefferson facing forward). I think this small concept speaks volumes to the way Black people are viewed as a whole. Let’s continue.
It’s been said that the United States President holds the most powerful position in the world, and that was no secret to John Hanson, ever heard of him? Not many have…the History Channel introduces him as “John Hanson, So Called First President” and further explains that he was indeed “…the first president of the Continental Congress under the Articles of Confederation” and “sometimes called the first president of the United States, but this is a misnomer, since the presidency did not exist as an executive position separate from Congress until the Federal Constitution created the role…in 1789″ (http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/john-hanson-so-called-first-president-dies).So from this, I gather he was a Black man serving as the then unclearly defined role of what would now be considered POTUS! 2016 was a major year in politics for a number of reasons including Hilary Clinton, but it’s a wonder why Shirley Chisholm didn’t come up more. Who’s Shirley Chisholm some may ask; unfortunately, she does not get the recognition she deserves considering not only was she the first African American woman to be elected to the United Sates Congress, but she was also the first woman and African American to run for a major party nomination (Democratic) for Presidential candidacy; one of the most kick ass parts: “Unbought and Unbossed” was emblazoned upon her campaigning posers! Find out more about her here:http://www.pbs.org/pov/chisholm/
It is true the Black History Month is the shortest month of the year, but it’s also the raddest and the most important reason is because all the things Black History represents. Believe it or not, Black History Month being the shortest month of the year is not a conspiracy, it’s because it evolved from “Negro History Week,” created in 1926 until it became the entire month of February in 1976 (that was 100 years ago 3 years ago!!). One of the most beautiful things about Black History is that it’s EVERYBODY’S history and if you don’t know that to be a fact, research equals growth. Luckily in the presence of vast regression there has been evidence of vast progression from former President Obama to Mary Esther Were. Who Is Mary Esther Were? Only the first Kenyan woman to EVER place in the finals for Miss Universe (2017), and if you watch this 44 second video of her, you will know exactly why she is an inspiration to us all and while you’re at it, check out these pictures of Black Beauties in 1920s-1940s America; eh, you may as well enlighten your perception of Africa by seeing the Africa we don’t see in the media too! Black History, it’s a curious concept as Colonialism is considered the reason for cultural appropriation. It’s crazy to think about iconic Betty Boop as Marilyn Monroe when it’s uncommon knowledge that Betty was in fact the likeness of Esther Jones, a Harlem Cotton Club regular, find out more here: Of course Jack Daniels is equally mentionable based on fact that has recently come to light: Nathan “Nearest” Green, a Black slave, is the originator of the beloved Jack Daniels Whisky as explained in this NY Times article:

It is the oppression and underrepresentation from which Black Activist movements form. The term “Black Lives Matter,” should not even be a debate, and the organization by no means places quantitate values on lives. Movements like the Black Panther Movement of Brazil, the world-wide Natural Hair Movement, Afro-Cuban Beauty Movement and the first ever Cuban Natural Hair Pageant, let’s include Miss France 2016, Arena de Montpellier, with her Beautiful Blackness and Natural hair glory; we can even bring that back stateside with ALL the Black Magic of the 2016 Olympic Games and Miss USA 2016, Deshauna Barber, a Dark Beauty, are all needed and used as a tool of unity and understanding; they do not stand to undermine of offend, but they are necessary and it’s our business.
Business…about that…I will conclude with a few thoughts and suggestions regarding Black Business, and I hope my Black List inspires you to agree that February’s Black History fanfare is much needed, appreciated, and DESERVED.

“Black Communities flourishing in the 1920, a generation after slavery”

“The History the Slaveholders Wanted Us to Forget”
“How Black Money is Converted into White Money”

“Here Are 11 Trump-Supporting Companies You Need to Boycott”

“Black Farmers to Buy from Instead of Whole Foods”

“17 Amazing Subscription Boxes for Women of Color”

“He won’t marry you if you can’t cook rice-well he will cheat on you.”

Relationship-gossipAs an unexpected twist to many, I am a master in the kitchen. With that out of the way, I think you can imagine my dismay to learn that DYLLAN DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO COOK WHITE RICE. As a very true friend indeed, I had to say some words of wisdom which came in the form of various emojis including the eggplant 🍆The flower language is irrelevant here because there is a bigger, more serious issue at hand; the lesson is this : “He won’t marry you if you can’t cook rice.” Now, upon further discussion, I found out that Dyllan can in fact cook rice, just not white rice, which is definitely still a problem; however, I was comforted in knowing that Dyllan can make other forms of rice as well as other carbs such as pasta and whatever else, but that brings me to my next point: ok, if you can make other carbs andor sides, then I do believe there is potential for a ring in your future, BUT damn it, while he may wife your non-rice cooking ass, he will cheat on you if your white rice always comes out over or under done. This my loves is the truth, morning blow jobs are simply not enough; a man has to eat nutrients other than you, so you have got to know the basics-leave the mush in the actions, not on the plate!

Dance the Night Away

The other day a funny memory flashed through my mind, and I felt compelled to share it here. A fond time in my life was a few years ago when I was making my living primarily as a stripper/escort; yes they are 2 different things. As woman somewhat just starting out in the strip club scene, I got a job in a total dump of a strip club with my friend Bianca so we could use it as a stepping stone for the come up. At the time, I had been dating Gump for probably around 2 years or so, but that’s not really that important. I concocted a story absolutely full of holes for Gump about my new job as a “waitress” in a “go-go bar.” I’m not exactly sure, but I think he knew I was lying from the very start. Okay, so my first night was super dead, and Bianca and I just spent time talking to the boss, having drinks, and practicing our moves on stage. The next day was a Friday, so we knew it would pick up at last a little bit…for some reason, Gump was particularly worked up about me working in the strip club whereas the night before, he seemed more secure with it-I think he may have went through my phone sometime before I went back to work on Friday. While I was getting super fine for work, Gump was acing super distant, but I didn’t let that stop my money chase. However long later, it was time for me to leave and meet up with Bianca so we could get the night rolling; I did my finishing touches, and I told Gump I would text him in a few right before we kissed goodbye. Fast forward a some hours later and picture a live strip club full of people mingling, tipping, drinking, playing pool, and being merry…being merry like I was because I had a customer with a steady cash flow that he was throwing at me like rice at a wedding. Everything was all good; I was sharing the stage with Bianca, and we were having a great time. What a night! All $miles over here!! When Bianca starts making her way to my end of the platform, I didn’t think anything was unusual; in fact, I thought she was coming my way to say that she was going to the bathroom or something like that. Meanwhile, my ass is bouncing in dude’s face while he’s licking his lips like he wanted to bite me, continuing to throw his dollars, and I not a care in the world…that is until Bianca comes up close to me and I see a look of horror on her face while she points behind her and says, “[Gump] is behind me, sitting at my end, and he looks PISSED!” As my heart sank to my stomach, I lean to the right past Bianca’s face, and immediately I see him glaring at me in disbelief, (or disgust?) of my betrayal (I’m gonna say he appreciated my moves though, ow ow!); I went back to the dude, I thanked him, and I told him that I was finished for the night. Bianca and I went to the dressing room to have our freakout and get dressed. We went back out to meet up with Gump, and I told him that we would talk later because Bianca and I were going for drinks (I had to get some more liquid encouragement for the unavoidable nightmare conversation we were sure to have, and obvi the sight of Gump made me quickly sober up). To make the long story short, I got wasted with Bianca and laughed off my fear of the inevitable. Eventually, I went home, and we had the conversation. We remained together afterwards, but there is a moral to the story: it’s very hard work to be stripper in a relationship, and eventually, no matter what they say or what you think, you will have to choose what life you’re really about.

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Smoke Screens

It smells like party spirit in here Through the fog of smoke and the dusty lighting I see the sweat beads trickle down the skin of others As the music blares I with my black polish black leather jacket and black soul I take a whiff of surroundings and I feel sorry for the safe people who will never know the mouthwatering taste of chaotic rebellion

FreeFall

Thoughts of watching you sleep peacefully draw the features of your face upon the blackboard of memories in my mind. Unforgettable yet, the curves of the definition of your six pack pressed against my spine. Even more still, the soft skin of your plush, intoxicating lips’ touch. Unattainable is your hold juxtaposed with our fingers intertwined. Ignorant bliss that I know will only last until you leave. You pull me into your nook, a symbol of our treaty drafted from pretend. All is not lost though all is not well. Doomed from the first hello, yet so safe in the here and now.

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Awake’s Timeline

1:30 – Still. In bed awake with you on my mind.

1:33 – Nothing. Check my phone again to make sure there’s nothing new from you.

1:35 – Will. Force myself not to text you.

1:43 – Sink. Let the wound disperse the pain.

1:48 – Write. Words glide on the paper pad with the same rhyme scheme as the tear that flows down my cheek.

Sometime between 2 and 3 : I’m in the throws of my dreams

Silence. That is, until suddenly you appear.

Smile. My heart melts as I see your face.

Confusion. I see something cold imitating the sparkle in your eyes.

Sad. I know something is wrong; there is something negative in the air.

Reach. You’re distant, so I reach my arm out to draw you near.

Vanish. Your presence begins to fade until you completely disappear.

4:22 – Still. Open my eyes and remember the dream.

4:22 – Nothing. Check my phone to see if you’ve called.

4:22 – Sigh. Wonder if thoughts of me keep you up at night.

4:26 – Will. Threaten to will myself to shut you out of my mind.

4:38 – Sink. Think of how we left things.

4:52 – Write. Pick up my notepad as I put down the home of my freshly fallen tears.

5:28 – Awake. Funny to think I’m starting today exactly the same way I ended last night: In my bed wishing I was by your side, all the while struggling with your absence…just me and my thoughts of you. Drowning, yet totally awake.

 

Today’s Thoughts on Humpday…

I think that sometimes we all have to remind ourselves that there are times when people just do not give a flying FUCK. I know I am guilty of this myself at times. Interestingly, today I woke up this morning ready to post something else for Say What Wednesdays, but recent events between Frat and me made me think of this picture I once saw on Insta…I smiled to myself, searched for it online, and posted it here to remind myself that there is beauty within pain…I embrace it and let it build my character. I didn’t get this deep from a love life of smooth sailing. At this point, I consider heartache to be another decoration upon the delicate complexities of my soul; there is an undeniable allure in what hurt produces for an individual and the depth that is visible in their eyes.

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A Whole Fifteen Years

Lucky am I to had the years with you, though all too short, how meaning they were; and lucky am I to be born from a family of Heroes. True, our time was cut short, and there are so many things that you were supposed to teach me, Dad. 15 years later, I can’t say it hurts the same, but I can admit the pain does manifest itself in my everyday life, transformed into decisions I make. You are my father, my idol; for every memory I have, and for all the special times in my life that you won’t be there, I know you are forever with me. Yes, I’m the spitting image of mom physically, but I am YOUR daughter…the moves I make are not understood because if there every to be comprehended, it would be you who understood them, and you are not here…but you are here, how crazy is that?! What I know is that your blood made me, it was you who determined that I would be born a strong female, and even you who named me, no one else. So for every breath that I take that is enabled by the blood that runs from my heart, the very blood I share with you; I know that I am in fact a warrior because you shared with me the blood of a true hero and soldier. There isn’t much I can’t handle because of you, and it saddened me that I had to lean how to navigate life without you; yet the orah of your being, the knowledge of who you are and what you have left behind is a true gift, and for that, on this sad day 15 years later, I will choose to smile because I am YOUR daughter, your Amber…Amber is gem, as am I, but it is your soul that is captured in my grace. 

my dad is a HERO
https://www.operationwearehere.com/FallenWarriors.html

“Keep it tight, keep it current.”

Find you inner Foxxxx

This quote comes from considering going back that life. My thoughts included the ceasing of my stripping career. Once, my bestie bought me a series of lap dances from the oldest dancer in the club! Also, I recalled one night while dancing at Majic City, that I was sharing the stage with a 54 year old woman! Her daughter was there too. Admittedly, I judged her which is so, so sooooooo WRONG on multiple levels, and I thought to myself, that won’t be me. However, there is something about stripping, something about taking my clothes off and shaking it well, something about having large amounts of cash, and having dollars thrown in my direction…that shit calls me like no other. So no, I don’t plan to be a washed up granny breaking my hip for a dollar, but I do have the desire to get back out there while the getting is still good because it definitely still is, thus my time is not up. While discussing this notion with a highly respected co-worker who herself had been a stripper past the ripe age of 30, we bounced ideas about this back and fourth to one another. We decided that stripping is just like any other employment; one has to keep oneself educated-one has to attend seminars and workshops, just as one should frequent other strip clubs to stay current on moves-consider that a workshop as well. The moral of the story is :”Keep it tight; keep it current.” Empower yourself ANY and EVERY way you see fit, present your best self always, and go’on make that bread; just don’t let it make you in the process. #FLAUNTit