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So now Obama’s daughters are Nappy Headed Hoes. I understand that art is the freedom of expression but this is utterly ridiculous. America has lost its values. Not only is the man’s wife allowed to be disrespected but now his two beautiful children as well. This photo is from the “Assassination of Barack Obama” exhibit.
DISCLAIMER: This is a very emotional piece that I wrote several years ago. As for an update, my biological father is now helping me create an avenue for men in prison to reach out to the outside world and share their brilliance. Inside the Wall will become a part of this blog very soon. I hope you appreciate the piece, many had responded while it was on myspace so I felt the need to share the contents with you. Happy Birthday George!
Letter to my unborn Father
Possibly the most personal statement I have ever made to date.
A child was born around 3:41am on the Sabbath Day, always knew the boy would be special because he was born on the Lord’s Day. Like a thief in the night his biological father took off running immediately. Not for good, only for two weeks but those 2 weeks of him missing in action foreshadowed what was to come.
A child is a child, I don’t remember much before the age of four except for maybe one memory at the age of three. Where the child’s mother was cooking, his grandmother and sister were there and a familiar man was at the door. Still that same father only this time he’s not running, for women are strong and when men ain’t shit they tell them to keep going.
Like I said women are strong, so strong it’s frightening if you’re not a strong man. So after a so-called father disrespects the very woman who bore his child with deception, lust, more kids, yes I said more kids; not by her of course, a strong woman leaves. Leaves to find her happiness, which she knows, does not exist within a man who could be so selfish and cruel.
So he writes a letter and the contents of it I will share with you:
When I was young I called you daddy to signify the difference between you and my real father. It was a symbol of our love, our relationship, and our connection. A connection I have come to the conclusion we never had. Growing up I knew plenty of kids whose parents weren’t in their life. Being born in the 80’s some parents fled to CRACK, some fell ill with a sickness they first thought was syphilis but today has become a Pandemic known as AIDS.
But many of us young black boys lost our fathers to the system better known as maximum correctional facilities. Sorry, you’re no political prisoner like Mumia, or Assata, NO quite frankly you broke the law and have been caged like an animal ever since.
At an early age I can remember knowing what the term pathological liar meant. My mother didn’t sugar coat things nor did she make them uglier than what they seemed to be. She raised me with my eyes wide open rather than shut so that I could see the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Pretenders, those who said they were with you but really were more out for themselves. Something all these years later I recognize is possible within any relationship, even ours.
In high school I was angry at the lack of a father role that you played. In college I had sympathy for you because I knew how they must have been treating you in those concentration camps, on the outside we are caged mentally but you were physically, mentally at times it seemed even spiritually caged. The trips up north were oh so hard, painful to see the one who is supposed to be your “supreme” in a state that is so desperate. It is unimaginable that this would be a man’s fate, HELL not a man like you, not a man whose mouth is slicker than Stacey Adams shoes. A man whose walk is reminiscent of Malcolm when he was strutting in Boston in them zoot suits. No not you! You, an alleged father, the maker of children who span this earth some aimlessly because of your lack of parenting skills.
I’ve tried to write this letter many times, please don’t mistake my tone for anger, God knows all we need is another angry black man mad at his deadbeat daddy. No my tone is more of disappointment, disappointed at how men can escape their duties. Not mad at you because we made peace four years ago in January of 2002 at that table in that penitentiary where I visited because I thought that if you died I would be somewhat responsible.
My mothers fine, strong as I wrote before, strong enough to take her children find a true man and raise them to be RESPONSIBLE. STRONG enough to go on with her life and find happiness, that’s all the little lady ever talks about, is being truly happy, I’m sure she is. My brothers are growing, their big now, intelligent young fellas, my sisters a nurse she’s doing well for herself. My father, well he’s doing well too you should see us in action. We play chess, laugh about old beatings I got from acting out. He’s a good dude, and I’m thankful I had a father. See a lot of kids cant say that I am just very happy that I can. See I realized that connection I thought we had is false. Years in the pen won’t change you, I won’t change you, she don’t love you so that won’t change you. Players who keep playing get played, they play themselves out, it becomes tired and hopefully they recognize the error in their ways. If not they are relegated to a lifetime of unhappiness, must be that Green Mile they talk about. I say letter to my unborn Father because after 22 years I realized I don’t know you and quite frankly have no desire to.
This is a very touching picture; it’s symbolic to me for so many reasons. I feel like I was that same little boy when Barack gave his speech at the Democrat National Convention and the headlines read “A Star is Born”.
I was that same young man when Barack won Iowa; a majority caucasian state. It showed me progress; it did not show me that we are there, but it said that we are rising.
Win, Lose, or Draw Barack Obama stands as a monument to young men and women of all cultures and creeds. He holds a special place in the hearts of young black men who have been assassinated in our society via the media, institutionalized racism coupled with our own mistakes. As I sit here writing this blog; I am still inspired, inspired by this image of a young black boy looking into the eyes of a transcendent leader and deep in his heart feeling YES WE CAN!
Congratulations to Ms. Crystle Stewart who was recently crowned Miss USA 2008. I honestly normally would not pay this contest any attention but I was impressed by this young lady’s entrepreneurial mindset.
Crystle Stewart, of Missouri City, Texas, runs a party-planning and motivational speaking company, as well as modeling professionally. Ms. Stewart looks to dedicate her life to international philanthropy. In a society that relegates women’s roles in the media to video girls and scantily clad outfits highlighting all of their assets except their minds, I am happy that this young lady is forward thinking. I pray that she takes this opportunity to continue to network and build her professional possibilities. But also stand as a monument for all women in this country, showcasing her intellect rather than her beauty and empowering young girls to reach beyond the restraints of the images the media offers them.
The following video is very disturbing; please proceed with caution! I pray that we can have a productive dialogue about this very serious issue that is affecting people of all colors and ethnicities. While I sit here watching this video in disgust, I hope that it is a joke to awake the masses of people engaging in unprotected sex. Please pass this video along because this type of reckless behavior can affect and infect each and every one of our lives.