May Week: Bonding with the Sisterhood

Sisterhood: The Tie that Binds us

May Week has kicked off, and I feel like a better woman because of it. It was a humbling experience to have been the guest in a room full of successful, bright and ambitious women. I arrived a bit behind schedule but as I entered the dining room, they all turned to the door and as if on cue, they said,  “Heeeey.” It was as if they had waited just for me. And, I felt right at home; just to be among friendly faces. It was where I needed to be at the end of my long, tedious workday.

May Week is a national program of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc. that was created in 1920. A week in May is set aside for programs highlighting academic and professional achievements and the events emphasize the importance of higher education in the community, especially for black women.(San Francisco-Peninsula Alumnae Chapter | Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated)

I walked down an aisle, situated between two rows of dining tables, blowing kisses to new and old familiar faces of my lovely sorors and hugged a few as I walked to the counter to place my order. I had never been a customer of the restaurant, but I could tell it was a homey spot. It was the kinda spot you would take your out-of-town friends who had a hankering for down-home cooking. I observed hot plates galore; homemade seafood and southern soul food meals all prepared by a chef who you could tell knew a thing or two about keeping a roomful of eager and hungry customers happy. The room was a bit steamy and the sizzling sounds from the back grill clashed with the multitude of conversations and laughter going on simultaneously around the room.


Albeit I enjoyed the night and the first of several activities scheduled for May Week, I am disheartened to admit that it’s rare to be around such positive people at one time. It seems that lately I have been thrown one curve ball of negative intention one after the other. Whether it be person or situation, the past few days were not as enjoyable as tonight. But, rather than dwelling on the past, I am pushing forward. I believe this day was the precursor of fun and positive memories to be had. And, I am more than ready to tackle the upcoming week chocked full of more socializing and networking. The agenda includes a signing of a proclamation by a city mayor, donating a small contribution to an area school and conducting phone calls to fellow sorority members that may be ill or disabled.

If you’re a soror, how will you spend May Week? If you’re not a soror, how will you spend the rest of your week?

Pictured with Mayor Rodney Grogan of Patterson, LA

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I'm Not a Strong, Educated Black Woman

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“Hi, I’m a strong, educated Black woman,” says no one. Can I be strong and intelligent? And, can I just be Black? Separately? Excuse me for acquiring all three, but I like my “compliments” to stand apart from my blackness.

I am a woman. Yes, I earned a degree that’s likely resting in a box in a corner collecting dust. Yes, I use my knowledge, skills and my God-given talents daily. But, I am still a woman. Yes, I am Black. But, I am simply…woman.

I don’t twist my neck and snap my fingers. I am a woman. I don’t need fancy titles or adjectives to distinguish my intelligence. I am  a woman.  I don’t use my physical prowess to beat and cause injury. I am a woman. I’m not angry at the world. I’m a woman. My blackness is strength, not insulting. I am a woman.

I am outspoken, I am proud, I am funny, I am fierce, I am fabulous. I am a woman.

And, like my fairer-skinned sisters, I am educated and strong. Stop equating my intelligence and strength to my skin color and race. When’s the last time you heard, “she’s a strong, educated White woman?”  Is it easier to hear an opposing word from a White woman? Is she less angry than a Black woman? Is education more appropriate for White women? Are White women not as strong as Black women? Well, #ibedamned. I am not a strong, educated Black woman. I am a woman.

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RaNsOM NOte: ReTaiL HOStagEs

Dear Retail Store,

YOU OWE ME. Why? Because, I am your customer. Your ads are delivered to my home weekly and the pretty, photoshopped pictures and attractive prices catch my eye. By the way, BOGOs are the best! In return, I purchase clothing, food and home essentials from your business. It’s the good ol’ American way, right? You want my money and all I want is your respect.

As a business, consider the hard work that your consumers put in daily to make a living; 35+ hours a week to make ends meet or putting in extra hours just to afford retail therapy. Money has no respect of person; therefore, you shouldn’t either. I just want fair and honest representation, and I’ll hold you hostage for as long as I deem necessary. Meet my requests and you can go free. I’m a simple lady. And, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.

  • Stock your shelves with hair products that cater to my hair texture!
  • Stock your shelves with makeup products that are shades darker than “tan!”
  • Give me pantyhose that match my skin tone!
  • And, your “nude” bras…well, they don’t camouflage well on my flesh-colored, dark brown “nude” skin.

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I demand that you take corrective measures.  I understand my worth; I know my buying power. And, in case you try to pull a fast one, I’m prepared. I’ll take to social media, tell my friends to tell their friends and phone more friends to shop elsewhere. After all, online shopping is the newest trend.

I’d prefer the convenience of shopping locally, but I will not be ignored. It’s pretty simple. Stock the shelves or your net profit gets it!

Signed,

BFADK: Black Female Armed and Dangerous with Knowledge

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But you want me to turn a blind eye to your impracticality. Well, #ibedamned!

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