Serendipity

Last week the DMV enjoyed unseasonably mild weather, including some 80° days.

Call me crazy but this certainly isn’t the March Lion I’m accustomed to.

It was against this backdrop that I decided to take an hour or two to venture out to the bookstore and write Alli’s Two Cents. The Muse had graciously stopped by earlier so I thought I’d put the finishing touches on her musings while sitting at an outside table soaking up the sun and enjoying WiFi.

I ran into a friend who was also meeting a friend so a bit of my time was co-opted. But I wasn’t mad. I’ve come to see life’s serendipitous moments like these as blessings and just take them in stride.

Before I knew it, though, it was getting late (still getting used to Daylight Savings Time) and I needed to get some food home for dinner. As I walked up the steps to the house, I juggled the mail along with all my other stuff – takeout, laptop, purse, etc. It was then that I noticed a letter with an Oklahoma return address that made me smile.

First of all, it’s not often that we get handwritten notes and letters these days so that was enough to make my eyes twinkle. But when I noticed who it was from, I got really excited!

You see, I have been getting letters from this return address since 1975 when I was about 10 years old in the fifth grade.

It was about that time that me and a little girl named Patty Urbina (later Moakley) would serendipitously write in to a television show called Big Blue Marble requesting a pen pal.

Big Blue Marble was one of those educational television shows that I wish I could say my Mom the Teacher made me watch. My dorky self, however, actually liked it.  Every week the show took us on a journey to what seemed like an exotic, foreign land where we would see how other children lived and learn about other cultures. In this way, we would see that what felt like a huge planet was merely a “big blue marble” when viewed from outer space and we are all more alike than different.

Another way they encouraged us to learn about other cultures was to write in for a pen pal so we could get to know one another on an individual basis.

Y’all know that had me all over it! J

Imagine my surprise, however, when my cultural match arrived from….Watonga, Oklahoma! I was like, “Oklahoma?! That’s not exotic! That’s the United States!”

Little did I know that this would spawn a 35 year friendship that included pages and pages of notebook paper filled with talk about school, boys, and teenage angst that eventually gave way to college, marriage, and children. I still have boxes of letters, pictures, and t-shirts that say we are true sisters, all without ever laying eyes on each other.

That is until a serendipitous encounter in Oklahoma back in 1992 while I was attending a conference as an exhibitor for an education foundation.

Initially, the trip seemed less than stellar – it was in October during Oktoberfest and I was the only African American within a 100 mile radius. On the cab ride from the airport, we drove past Oral Roberts University with these ginormous metal praying hands out in front and fields filled with actual bales of hay. The icing on the cake was that the colleague I was travelling with wanted to go line dancing at a country bar we spotted on our way in. I told her under no certain terms that I would NOT be going line dancing in anybody’s country bar in anybody’s No Man’s Land/No Black People, Oklahoma.

Oddly enough, the keynote speaker at this conference was Alex Haley. I “just so happened” to have just finished re-reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X and couldn’t believe I was in the same hotel with an absolute living legend! I looked up during breakfast the next day and there he was at the table next to mine! I got stage fright, though, and didn’t introduce myself. I wish I had, however, because he would make his transition just a few short months later.

Serendipity.

Anyway, during our first day exhibiting, an attendee walked past my booth with a badge that said she was from Patty’s hometown of Watonga. I greeted her with an exuberant smile and mentioned that I had a pen pal from Watonga and she asked me her name. When I told her, she replied, “Oh, honey, I know her Mama. I’ll call her during our next break.” (Cell phones were rare in those days!).

The next morning Patty and her husband Bill drove two hours just to have breakfast with me! To them, no distance was too far and no time too short if it meant we got to meet face-to-face after what had been a mere 18 years of writing!

So fast forward to last week when I saw the letter from Patty’s mom and I got really excited! Maybe, I thought, they’re planning some kind of surprise celebration for her and want to give me plenty of time to plan to attend. After all these years, we’ll get to see each other again and she’ll get to meet Drew!

So me and my juggling scurry in the door, get things settled, and I open the letter. Out tumbled a newspaper clipping with her picture and a note from her mother that began, “It breaks my heart to tell you this but I know I must…”

Even though I didn’t have my very necessary 1.50 readers on, I knew something wasn’t right.

It seems that my dear pen pal died suddenly in February even though, her mother assured me, “The doctors really did all they could…”

I did find my readers and the news was right there in black and white but somehow, through my tears, it just didn’t seem to compute.

Still hasn’t.

As I sit here a week later, my eyes still tear up as I think about how miraculously serendipitous it was that Patty and I crossed paths all those years ago and that we got to meet that one time. I also think it is incredibly generous and gracious of God to bless us with such a richly woven tapestry of friendship and for that I am so very grateful.

Just yesterday I went to grab a miscellaneous stack of papers (my hand to God) and I found the last letter Patty wrote to me in November 2011. I knew we had written recently but it was just one of those reminders that catch your breath. In it she tried to, “catch me up,” as she put it because, alas, our days of writing pages and pages have not survived grown up, hectic life.  But she closed noting that she couldn’t believe that we had been writing each other for over 30 years and, “I am so blessed that you continue to share your life with me. You will forever be in my heart and I love you, sis!”

I would like to take this space to honor her memory and share my love and prayers with her husband, mother, and beautiful son.

I wish for all of you rich, loving friendships and relationships that you can cherish even though it hurts when they change.

And remain aware and alert - you never know when serendipity will stop on over, sit on your shoulder, and bless you beyond your wildest imaginings.

It’s Baa-aack!

Every New Year’s Eve, my church has what’s called a Bowl Burning Service.

It works like this:

About two hours prior to the beginning of our service, we take time during a potluck supper to write a letter to ourselves describing how our lives will look in six months and address it to ourselves. The church, in turn, mails it to us at the end of June.

This was my first year attending but other Bowl Burning Service veterans assured me that when they received their letters six months down the road, they were astonished at their accuracy. They even noted that things they had forgotten they asked for showed up just as they’d requested.

As we all know, however, the desires of our hearts can only come to us by letting go of everything that could potentially be blocking the way. So along with our letter describing our future, we also write a list of everything we want to leave behind and place it in a clay pot where it is burned (ergo, Bowl Burning Service J)

I thought long and hard about this exercise before New Year’s Eve arrived and even prepared a couple of drafts ahead of time.

Fast forward to my Gratitude Experiment in January and my Lenten Lessons begun a few weeks ago and I suppose I am receiving just what I asked for – an adventure I couldn’t have anticipated and am increasingly, absolutely falling in love with.

The book I have been using for my Lenten Lessons really wasn’t doing it for me (Charles Fillmore’s Keep a True Lent) but I persisted because I had learned a huge lesson from my Gratitude Experiment: there is value in showing up, sticking to a commitment, “just doing it.”

Even – no, especially when I didn’t feel like it.

And that’s when, once again, serendipity stepped in and the Universe gave me a reward for my faithfulness.

The Magic, the third offering by Rhonda Byrne (author of The Secret and The Power), was one of those books I intended to get at some point (being a "nerdy wordie" and all) but I wasn’t breakin’ down any doors, know what I mean? But there I was, in my element (the book store). And there it was. I mean I wasn’t even looking for it! But when I saw there was only one copy left on the shelf (!), I decided to at least leaf through it to see if it was indeed just for me.

And it was.

 In The Magic, Ms. Byrne speaks of experiencing magic in our lives on a daily basis – not hocus pocus, abracadabra stuff but the wonder, innocence, and expectancy that lights up a child’s eyes.

Indeed, Ms. Byrne notes, it’s us warped grown-ups who have it all wrong.

As she puts it, “…the magic you once believed in is true, and it’s the disillusioned adult perspective of life that is false.”

And what do you suppose her solution is for bringing this about?

You guessed it –

GRATITUDE!!!

It’s baa-aack!

But this ain’t no 30 day experiment, y’all.

This is gratitude on steroids.

Twenty-eight days of some serious gratitude lessons.

Just in time for Easter and beyond.

I write a lot in this blog about many of my experiences and all the ways I am growing and how much I am learning. But I am determined to make my spiritual study and introspection mean something.

I don’t want it to me hit-or-miss, up and down, maybe or maybe not.

Not like everything will be peaches and cream all the time but I am seeking a grounding; a centering.

I want to be so aligned with the Divine that love and gratitude and the peace of God are a palpable reality that oozes from my pores.

And let me tell you –

When you’re in that place, there’s no way the life of your dreams won’t be in full manifestation.

For then the Kingdom of Heaven truly is at hand.

So dig it - 28 days in Gratitude Boot Camp will outrun Lent and Easter.

But don’t forget that June is coming and, to quote the AOL man, “I’ve Got Mail.”

The Right Side

Like many, I have become enamored (obsessed) with the game Words with Friends.

I was introduced to it by my cousins at Christmas Dinner. While we were all supposed to be bonding, everybody was glued to their Smart / iPhones, playing each other while in the same room!

Being a “wordie” (a nerd / word person’s version of a “foodie”), I was looking forward to sharpening my word sleuthing while staying in touch with loved ones I don’t see enough.

After being creamed continuously for weeks, however, I finally figured out that this wasn’t about honing my vocabulary but mastering a game for which I did not know the rules.

My cousins were kicking my ass with totally bogus words like “eh,” “wo,” “ar,” or “zed.” I would send them messages like, “WTF is ‘gor’?” They would reply, “I don’t know! I just tried it and it worked!”

And they would get like 57 points!

So I decided it was imperative that I figure this out – not in a “Scrabble-I’m-Smart” kinda way, but an, “I better crack this nut and fast” MO!

Around this time it began to dawn on me that strategy was important. Like choosing squares that doubled my letters and tripled my words so that I would get mega points without really doing any extra work.

I was making the game work for me.

And eventually, I started winning by getting 57 points for words like “etna.”

I also noticed that the more I won, the better letters I got.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the American Way.

Come up with something - anything - that somebody will buy - or somehow reward you for - and pimp that baby for all it’s worth.

My approach has been all wrong.

It’s not so much about substance – being creative, doing the right thing, regarding others, working hard, playing fair. It’s about winning at all costs regardless of how.

So this is why right-brained me has been struggling to succeed in this left-brained racket.

Then I got the news that my right-brain might actually be in vogue.

A few weeks back, Oprah interviewed noted author and businessman Daniel Pink, who predicted that right-brainers will soon rule the world.

In his book, A Whole New Mind, Pink notes that the Information Age that has dominated the past few decades (AKA left-brain central) is giving way to what he terms the Conceptual Age, one in which those who have the ability to see the big picture and empathize with others will become the new movers and shakers.

Are you kidding me? Now that I have made my square-pegged, right-brained self fit into this circle, left‑brained world, y’all are gonna change the rules?

That’s right – us touchy-feely types are about to inherit the Keys to the Kingdom.

It’s time to get on the right side – of your brain, that is!

According to Pink, the number crunching, linear thinking, take-no-prisoner contract negotiating left‑brainers have been all the rage for quite awhile now. The increase in technology and outsourcing, however, has made tasks that can be automated, or completed with repetitive steps, a bit passé. They can be done quicker and cheaper elsewhere. Therefore, in order to sustain itself, our economy will require a creativity that is born out of, “art and the heart.”

So it’s not that left-brainer traits will no longer be necessary but they will no longer but sufficient.

As it turns out, it’s the traits that make us distinctly human (which, according to Pink, the Information Agers have often overlooked, undervalued, disdained, or thought frivolous) are now essential to making the world go ‘round.

Not to mention the economy flourish.

As I read this hypothesis, my eyes began to dance and I began to grin as I saw most of the characteristics that make me me noted as what this New World Order will require.

“The capacity to detect patterns and opportunities (check); to create artistic and emotional beauty (got that one, too); to craft a satisfying narrative (my specialty); to combine seemingly unrelated ideas into something new (can we say Alli’s Two Cents?);

There’s also:

“The ability to empathize with others (got that totally covered); to understand the subtleties of human interaction (my fav); to find joy in one’s self and to elicit it in others (I like to think I do that); and to stretch beyond the quotidian in pursuit of purpose and meaning (there’s the King).”

So while I don’t think we’re gonna all hold hands and sing Kumbaya anytime soon, I do think the world is hankerin’ for a realignment – the rebalancing of yin and yang; the male and female energy. For one is definitely not at its best without the other.

So for now, I get to combine my natural born right-braininess with my hard-won left-braininess and make some headway. And to all of my left-brained brothers and sisters who are cringing right now – give me a hug J

Life On Purpose

It’s been two weeks since our 30 Gratitude Experiment ended.

You remember – our 30-day experiment launched in Alli’s Two Cents dated January 26, 2012 (Sticky Situation)? We agreed to write at least five things we are grateful for each day for the next 30 days and report back our findings. (Yes, I said, “We!” J)

In that post, I boldly proclaimed, “I predict I will report back in 30 days a changed woman – more joyful, more at peace, and more loving.”

I definitely feel all of those things and must admit that this experiment was an eye opener for me that I intend to continue.

I developed a shift in awareness that enabled me to find something be grateful even on the toughest of days as well as a more focused lens in observing miracles and blessings that truly occur all around us and can be a way of life.

It’s all in how we look at it.

So how did you do?

I hope you could feel the shared uplifting energy gratitude brought to me as a result of consciously tuning in to the Divine.

And how’s this for serendipity - little did I know that our Gratitude Experiment would overlap with the commencement of Lent.

Totally unplanned, I assure you, but just so typical of the Universe.

I’m not Catholic so I didn’t grow up practicing the discipline of “giving up” a food or habit in preparation for Easter. But I have developed an appreciation for the ritual of going within to align our perspective with the concept of going through times of growth and development and coming out transformed.  For me, it’s an added bonus that comes with the sense of renewal Easter and springtime brings.

So for this Lenten Season, I’ve decided to up the ante with yet another experiment.

For the past two weeks, I’ve added a morning meditation that includes a reading from Keep a True Lent by Charles Fillmore. And this divinely-inspired proclamation has been the result:

I intend to leave this Lenten Season with a crystal-clear knowing of my purpose. As Oprah puts it, knowing what my life’s work is and exactly how to go about the business of doing it.

I tell ya, you do have to watch what you ask for ‘cause, as God would have it, Rev. Edwene Gaines, a guest speaker at Unity of Washington, DC this past Sunday, laid it out this way:

If I put my intention out there, commit to it 100%, and move in impeccability and integrity, the Universe will conspire on my behalf.

And what I have observed in just this short time is that the more I am willing to commit to my intention, the more support I get.

For instance, I ran across this Facebook post yesterday by writer Chandresh Bhardwaj who responded in this way when asked what our purpose in life is:

“Our purpose is to be joyful in what we do. Our purpose is to live life in pure awareness. We shouldn't be at [the] mercy of other people triggering our emotions every now and then. Remember that none of us are here by accident. We have a very specific purpose to fulfill which only we can do! Instead of going to mentors, coaches, self proclaimed gurus....seek that purpose within yourself.  Meditate more and more...and you shall know it so miraculously why you are here!” (Edited for format)

Like many, I have resisted the practice of meditation as it chafed against my traditional Christian indoctrination as a bit “woo-woo.” But, true to form, the Universe sent yet another message to let me know I’m on the right path:

“Many people, unfortunately, stay away from meditation because they are told that there needs to be a certain qualification to begin the meditation journey. Not surprisingly, [the] rest of their life is spent in a thought of guilt that they are just not eligible to begin the meditation. Is there any eligibility to smile? Is there any pre-requisite to be happy? Definitely not! These conditions are man-made and are created for reasons that have nothing to do with enlightenment. [The] good news is that there is no eligibility to begin the meditation. You can begin at any age, anywhere with any habits you have. Just include meditation with all your activities and you will see everything falling into the right place!” (From Facebook page Break the Norms, edited for format)

I am so grateful (!) for my own spiritual evolution that has helped me develop a sense of openness to who and how God really is and how He / She speaks. Embracing a sense of individual empowerment that can only come from being connected to the Power Source that lies within is particularly poignant for me who specialized in going to mentors, coaches, and other assorted self-proclaimed gurus.

So I’m gonna go to an inner frontier where I‘m learning that other men and women have boldly gone before but I have not – a journey to develop an unwavering sense of assurance and connectedness to God within so that whatever way life unfolds, I will, “know that I know that I know” that God is with me and I cannot fail. I am boldly proclaiming by faith that I will wake up Easter morning (or maybe even before) with a greater sense of peace and clarity, joyfully anticipating what lies ahead with confidence and a plan of action. If I don’t know, I will know how to find out. And if the answer isn’t crystal-clear just yet, I will trust that it is unfolding all according to God’s perfectly-planned timing.

And just in case I get weary on the journey, here’s a bit more inspiration from my friend Nicole Crawford-Tichawonna via her friend Sheila Jackson Hardy:

‎"Never for an instant forget the effort to renew your life, to build yourself anew. Creativity means to push open the heavy, groaning doorway of life itself. This is not an easy task. Indeed, it may be the most severely challenging struggle there is. For opening the door to your own life is in the end more difficult than opening the door to all the mysteries of the universe." -D. Ikeda

Stay tuned!

Happy Anniversary - I Look To You

This week marked the one year anniversary of Alli’s Two Cents!

Can you believe it?!

Maybe it’s me but 2011 flew by at warp speed. And considering how intense a year it was for many of us, perhaps that’s a good thing. J

I want to say THANK YOU for the outpouring of support and affirmation I’ve received from my friends, family, loved ones, and brand new followers as you have all read my many musings.

Most of all, I thank God for how He / She has kept me.

As I look back over the past year, I can truly say that I would not be where I am today without the grace and mercy of God’s power, which continues to sustain me.

God, in all things, I look to You.

As I am sure many of you know, I Look To You was the title of the last recording released by Whitney Houston.

How many of us could have imagined that we would be mourning her loss at this time in our lives and history?

I know there has been much written and speculated about her very untimely transition. So much so that I considered not mentioning it at all.

But my thoughts have persisted over these past few days so I hope you will indulge me.

I don’t have anything profound or indicting to say about Whitney Houston’s past, conflicts, or issues. And surely there are no other accolades or adjectives I could add to describe her tremendous voice and catalogue of work.

All I can speak to is the lesson I took from this very unfortunate turn of events.

Whitney Houston’s untimely death truly startled me.

It made me wonder what could have possibly been going through her mind, heart, and spirit to bring her to this place.

We can all opine ad nauseum about what she could have done, what she should have done, who she really was, and who she really was not. But at the end of the day, perhaps she was just a tortured soul who was tired.

A little while back I wrote about how we as a culture view and engage gentle people (Wearing My Heart On My Sleeve – Alli’s Two Cents, December 22, 2011). Many may not consider Whitney Houston a gentle person per se, because she was a diva in every sense of the word. But I wonder if her often over-the-top persona was a mask she donned to make sure the show went on when on the inside, there was pain she obviously numbed with many externals, be it substances or bravado.  

And while many may not agree, I just feel like maybe she was a gentle soul who didn’t always make the right choices or choose to surround herself with the best people (who of us hasn’t had a blunder or two on both counts?) who, in the end, wasn’t strong enough to fight all of the battles she faced, both external endured and internally inflicted.

And the fact that we can so harshly scrutinize that makes me sad.

No excuses – just an observation.

For me, this was a wake-up call.

Every time I think of her and the tears well up in my eyes, I am filled with a resolve to not let my past inform my destiny; frame my perspective; become my identity.

I suppose that somehow, we must all bravely and courageously address and heal from the challenges life inevitably brings, and, in our own way and in our own time, find that path to surrender and peace where we can let go of the hurt and embrace the Love that truly offers oil for ashes, joy through sorrow, and the proverbial garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

If not, carrying that weight will take a costly toll.

So God of grace, mercy, love, kindness, and compassion, with profound gratitude and humility, here is all I can say:

I look to You,
I look to You
After all my strength is gone
In You I can be strong
I look to You,
I look to You
And when melodies are gone

In You I hear a song
I look to You

I'm Just Gonna Marry You!

Due to an unexpected illness I experienced last year this time, I had several weeks of unexpected down time. Being a true American, however, I couldn’t just sit there and recuperate. Oh no - I had to do something productive with my life! So I began reading a book called The Automatic Millionaire that had been sitting on my shelf for more than a few years.

As I read, I was infused with practical advice and inspiration as to how to begin to not only put my financial house in order but build wealth, even at late 40-something. The more I read, the more I realized that this prescribed approach gave me an understanding of money that made me feel empowered. This led me to believe that I might actually be in love with the author, David Bach. His method would save me! With that, I put the book down in my lap and, with little hearts swirling above my head, much like the Peanuts’ Sally used to have every time she saw her beloved Linus, I sighed and proclaimed to myself, “I’m just gonna marry him!”

In that moment, I distinctly remember this notion giving me pause because I suddenly realized that whenever someone impacted me in a profound way, or whenever I feel great love and appreciation for something anyone did for or gave to me, I’d say I was going to marry them. (Actually, I still say that J.)

This led me to ponder, “When, in my mind, did the highest expression of love become marriage?”

I thought that this Valentine’s edition of Alli’s Two Cents might be a good place to take a look at love in the 21^st century and what it now means to us “girls” who, according to Beyonce (happily married and a new mom to boot, I might add), rule the world.

I recently read an excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert’s newest book, Committed, a follow-up to her awesome book Eat Pray Love. In Committed, Ms. Gilbert (one of my Muses) wrestles with the prospect of getting married to the man of her dreams after surviving a disastrous divorce and life-altering year of self exploration (my goal, by the way – I thankfully have the disastrous divorce behind me).

One may wonder if there’s too much pressure placed on the American romantic love model, at least from a woman’s perspective. Based on Hollywood’s version (with a little help from Ms. Gilbert’s observation), your husband is expected to be, “your best friend, your most intimate confidant, your emotional advisor, your intellectual equal, your comfort in times of sorrow.”

Or better yet, “your lover should magically be able to keep every part of [your] emotional being warm at the same time.”

A tall order, yes?

After spending time with women in a remote village in China, Ms. Gilbert noted that in other cultures, other women seem provide a good deal of this emotional sustenance aside from whatever may occur in their marriages.

Yes, you actually do have a husband, you do have sex, and your finances are intertwined. But a good deal of what she terms your “emotional nourishment” comes from what I term your sister circle – “sisters, aunties, mothers, grandmothers.”

The Village we’ve all heard of that I sorely miss these days.

What struck me as particularly poignant in this prose was the way she described the difference in how the women of this remote village viewed marriage. To quote my virtual Muse, romantic love and marriage was not seen as “the center of [their] emotional biography.”

Something to consider, I would say.

After all, love nurtures us wherever it comes from, and it seems to be those of us in the West who have elevated romantic love to this perhaps unrealistic pinnacle.

Not to mention this notion of every little girls’ so-called ultimate goal and fantasy – a spectacular wedding and blissful love to ensure that you live happily ever after.

Indeed romantic love is splendid and, to be honest, I miss it. But putting it at the center of my “emotional biography”, as Ms. Gilbert so eloquently puts it, doesn’t seem too balanced or realistic.

Instead of viewing romantic love and marriage as this life-defining reflection of our identity, perhaps it might be better seen as one part of our full life experience.

And, by the way, if marriage is, in fact, so central to our self actualization, many spiritual teachers I have read emphasize that our most intimate relationships do indeed mirror our true selves and provide an opportunity to heal and to grow. But in a healthy, mutual way – not a take care of me-fix me-fill me kinda way.

My goal here is not to provide a treatise on marriage and anthropological nuances but to simply note that romantic love and marriage may not be the highest expression of true commitment, connection, compassion, and caring. Perhaps it’s just one part of a multi-faceted, complexly-woven fabric of all kinds of love that impacts each of us in the most profound, intimate, and individual of ways.

So I know there are those of you who I have said I would marry for a number of reasons – from when you bought me a cup of coffee or a piece of chicken, gave me a hug and told me loved me, or shared a much desired book or beautiful music. But don’t panic. I don’t want you to meet all of my emotional needs. I was just trying to let you know that your expression of love sparked the highest form of joy in my soul – and that gift is met with profound gratitude.

So this Valentine’s Day, my hope is to manifest and enjoy the highest form of the divine – love in all of its splendor.

Happy Heart Day!

Girl Power! (P.S. I Am NOT My Hair!)

As my daughter’s first season as a high school baller comes to a close, I am moved by what I have observed as real Girl Power.

At each game, I see strong, confident young women who lead their teams and conquer themselves on the court not only through physical athletic skill but critical thinking in the heat of the moment.

As most know, sports have often been seen as a microcosm of the world and a great place to learn life skills that can be used in myriad situations.

The strength and confidence I see in these ladies makes me so proud.

Now that being a professional female athlete is more common, young women have role models who are assertive and powerful and can now develop these traits without feeling as self-conscious. It is more the norm, as it always should have been.

I also see these ladies defining themselves for themselves. This includes their sense of style. Whether it’s considered girlie or tomboyish (or some of both on any given day), it’s for them to decide and express boldly.

As athletes, my daughter and her teammates are developing all kinds of muscles in daily practices and multiple games each week that involve lots of sweat.

And we sisters know that sweat is the enemy of our hair!

Unfortunately, my daughter has still had to face a few unenlightened individuals who say that all she needs to do is run a flat iron through her hair or do something about those edges and she’d be fine.

Not compliment her on her initiative and commitment, or encourage her skill and prowess, but tell her she needs to do something about her hair even if she is an athlete.

Note to all the haters: she IS fine JUST AS SHE IS!

Unlike her Mama, Drew is also a true fashionista. She confidently explores different clothing and hair styles, make-up (sigh), and (double sigh) even hair color (more on that later). She naturally has light brown hair that gets blonde streaks in the summer thanks to the sun and chlorinated pool water. When she was a toddler, “some” people used to ask me if I had her hair professionally highlighted.

Really, people? She’s a baby!

Anyway, this year, she wanted to dye her hair black (that double sigh in the previous paragraph). After a year of heavy lobbying from her and our hair stylist, I relented.

Why?

Based on much thought, prayer, deliberation, and research, I came to the conclusion that a big part of being a teenage girl is about having fun! It's the one time in your life when you get to experiment (within reason) with your own ideas about beauty and define them for yourself.

Plus I decided she could want to dye her hair purple or blue so what the hell?

I didn’t get to freely explore who I was as a young woman because I came from a family and an era where a lot of unnecessary judgment was attached to something that can really be seen as a normal part of growing up.

Back in Alli’s Two Cents published February 18, 2011 (Happy Being Me [Even If Me Is Nappy]), I experimented with growing my hair out, re-texturizing it, and coloring it.

That lasted about three weeks.

I am happy to say I’m back to short, natural and even more gray!

What’s so disconcerting to me is the impact these subtle (or not-so-subtle) messages have on our girls (especially from those closest to us whose opinions do matter) as they develop their very fragile sense-of-self in a culture obsessed with an ideal of “beauty” that has been proven to be unattainable, let alone sustainable.

I do hope that one day, we as African Americans will come to a place where we can fully embrace who we are in all of our gorgeous splendor.

I am grateful (30-Day Gratitude Experiment!) that my daughter has chosen to pursue athletics at a time when female basketball players are seen as the norm. (Hopefully they will eventually not all be seen as lesbians, even if some of them are, but that's another blog for another time.) I am also optimistic that coming-of-age in this context will help her to realize that true Girl Power comes from knowing who you are within based on what you innately love and being your authentic self without apology.

I happen to see the rise of female athletics as one vehicle for doing just that.

And I pray that she and her teammates will continue to develop internal and external muscles in the crucible of life on and off the court.

Finally, for the record, let’s remind ourselves of what India.Aire so eloquently sang a few years back:

I am not my hair

I am not this skin

I am not your expectations, no

I am not my hair

I am not this skin

I am the soul that lies within