Why Black Women Prefer To Date and Marry Black Men…

Does this really need to be explained?

Some would think so…well, for those who are wondering, here’s why the majority of Black women prefer Black men: Black men are the only equals for Black women. A Black man was the first man. In the image of God…man was created. He was the first father. Black men are what their fathers are. All women want to marry that which mirrors them.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought there would be day when any Black person would have to qualify their reason as to why they do what should come natural to all, to love one another, fall in love, and marry.

The state of condition in this country is such that white people are now concerned that we are marrying each other–and not them. Huh? Thus, the arrogant white controlled media has seemingly created an attitude in the public’s mind that for some reason, it is necessary to divide and conquer Black love, by insulting and hurting us with perceptions and racist preconceptions of ourselves, thus, creating a false image of our community.

There have been books, talk shows, movies, magazines, and even reality shows that try to instigate some type of war between Black men and women. But why? Why is our community being targeted by such bigotry and ignorance?  Better yet, why are so many Black men and women spreading the misinformation and responding with counterintuitive actions against their own people.  Who’s reality are you living?

I’ve thought about this and I can only say that the most powerful image I have are of Black men and women in love, who stand with one another, and are a dynamic force for our people.  There’s just something very powerful about a Black man and woman who love each other, and walk boldly together. The vibes one gets from them is just beyond words.  It’s a beautiful thing.  Black love is the truest energy and it impacts everything around it.

Let me be even more clear, Black men in love with strong Black women scare the hell out of racist white males and weak white women. They hate Black people but out of some type of pathological sickness, take pleasure in exploiting the negative in our community, at any length, the most passionate being, to attack us where we’re most vulnerable to them: many Black people having terrible self-hatred and feelings of inferiority and insecurity, to the degree, promoting white supremacy through interracial coupling extends this ethos even more, with the intent to divide us, weaken us, and neutralize all Black nationalist agendas to advance the race as a whole.

This appears to be working in 2014, but not all of us are falling for this psychological tactic.

Black women in particular, are not believing that every Black man on this planet hates them. I for one, have never been ignored by Black men–I get approached almost daily, however, it’s not for attention that I prefer Black men, to me, they just are the most sexy, intelligent, cool, strong, creative, well-built, funniest, clever men I’ve ever encountered. I can’t imagine not being attracted to them. All of my life, I’ve loved Black men. Even when I was a little girl, I just loved to look at them. They made me feel secure, and protected.

“According to Howard University researcher Ivory A. Toldson, 88 percent of married African-American men – of all education and income levels – marry Black women. Most rich and successful Black men do not choose to marry outside of their race: 83 percent of six-figure-earning brothers and 85 percent of college educated African-American men find a Black woman to call his wife, reported Toldson.”

Sources:

http://www.livescience.com/38613-genetic-adam-and-eve-uncovered.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hatshepsut

I grew up in a community where some of the finest Black men and women lived in Chicago. The images I saw were positive. Black men were chasing Black women every single day. All I saw were brothers literally getting into car accidents–breaking their necks as they hollered out of their Cadillac’s, Lincolns, Regal’s, Monte-Carlos with the gansta white walls, at the Foxes, Babes, Brown Sugar, and Sexy Mamas that were coming from every direction. Black love was a good thing.

And when I decided to create this blog, it was done with the intent of promoting this along with definitive values of family and community within our culture.

Honestly, I shake my head at the comments that I’ve witnessed online regarding who we are as a people, but when you become what your enemy wants you to be, you have been completely conquered, and your mind entrapped by a lie.

To be or not to be…Shakespeare posed the question, well for me, Black love is a the most revolutionary act, and this Black woman is leading the cause without apology.

And This Was Soul Music….

Some days, I feel like my parents did when rap music came out: reminiscing about the “good old days”, showing every bit of my age, but not being ashamed about it at all.

One of the artists that I grew up listening to in addition to all of the great talent that came from the late 60’s through the 90’s, was the late Donny Hathaway. Who was he?

Artist Biography by Steve Huey

Donny Hathaway was one of the brightest new voices in soul music at the dawn of the ’70s, possessed of a smooth, gospel-inflected romantic croon that was also at home on fiery protest material. Hathaway achieved his greatest commercial success as Roberta Flack’s duet partner of choice, but sadly he’s equally remembered for the tragic circumstances of his death — an apparent suicide at age 33. Hathaway was born October 1, 1945, in Chicago, but moved to St. Louis when he was very young, and began singing in church with his grandmother at the scant age of three. He began playing piano at a young age, and by high school, he was impressive enough to win a full-ride fine arts scholarship to Howard University to study music in 1964. While in college, he performed with a cocktail jazz outfit called the Ric Powell Trio, and wound up leaving school after three years to pursue job opportunities he was already being offered in the record industry.

Everything Is EverythingHathaway first worked behind the scenes as a producer, arranger, songwriter, and session pianist/keyboardist. He supported the likes of Aretha Franklin, Jerry Butler, and the Staple Singers, among many others, and joined the Mayfield Singers, a studio backing group that supported Curtis Mayfield’s Impressions. Hathaway soon became a house producer at Mayfield’s Curtom label, and in 1969 cut his first single, a duet with June Conquest called “I Thank You Baby.” From there he signed with Atco as a solo artist, and released his debut single, the inner-city lament “The Ghetto, Pt. 1,” toward the end of the year. While it failed to reach the Top 20 on the R&B charts, “The Ghetto” still ranks as a classic soul message track, and has been sampled by numerous hip-hop artists. “The Ghetto” set the stage for Hathaway’s acclaimed debut LP, Everything Is Everything, which was released in early 1970. In 1971, he released his eponymous second album and recorded a duet with former Howard classmate Roberta Flack, covering Carole King’s “You’ve Got a Friend.” It was a significant hit, reaching the Top Ten on the R&B charts, and sparked a full album of duets, Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway, which was released in 1972. The soft, romantic ballad “Where Is the Love?” topped the R&B charts, went Top Five on the pop side, and won a Grammy, and the accompanying album went gold.

Extension of a Man Also in 1972, Hathaway branched out into soundtrack work, recording the theme song for the TV series Maude and scoring the film Come Back Charleston Blue. However, in the midst of his blossoming success, he was also battling severe bouts of depression, which occasionally required him to be hospitalized. His mood swings also affected his partnership with Flack, which began to crumble in 1973. Hathaway released one more album that year, the ambitious Extension of a Man, and then retreated from the spotlight; over the next few years, he performed only in small clubs. In 1977, Hathaway patched things up with Flack and temporarily left the hospital to record another duet, “The Closer I Get to You,” for her Blue Lights in the Basement album. The song was a smash, becoming the pair’s second R&B number one in 1978, and also climbing to number two on the pop charts. Sessions for a second album of duets were underway when, on January 13, 1979, Hathaway was found dead on the sidewalk below the 15th-floor window of his room in New York’s Essex House. The glass had been neatly removed from the window, and there were no signs of struggle, leading investigators to rule Hathaway’s death a suicide; his friends were mystified, considering that his career had just started to pick up again, and Flack was devastated. Roberta Flack Featuring Donny Hathaway was released in 1980, and both of the completed duets — “Back Together Again” and “You Are My Heaven” — became posthumous hits. In 1990, Hathaway’s daughter Lalah launched a solo career.

Listen to this wonderful cd and enjoy what I did back in the day for those of you who have never been introduced to true soul music.

Musings From a Cool Sister…

As you gaze into my eyes, you’ll feel free-er than ever before…never looking behind–never having any regrets; only embracing tomorrows, because you know you belong right here.

*Listening to Jill Scott–5:00 a.m.*

And all of a sudden, as from out of nowhere, I started to lift up from where I was, traveling, no, floating above, grooving to the rhythm in my ears, and thinking about the meaning of my life. You see, I’m not normal. No. Not in the typical human way of assessment, I’m just a different mind, participating in this arena of life, but not being a part of it at the same time. As I said, I’m traveling, floating, and grooving to rhythms not yet heard by mortal ears.

I awake early each morning, thinking about what impact I will have on my earth. Can I impact the ignorance, violence, ambivalence, or crack the secret codes, memorized by sinister minds, who think of ways, each and every second of the day, that will destroy life, in order to perpetuate their sick fantasies?

Is is all about control or are we willing participants of our abuse? Do we really want to be slaves? Is freedom too much for some of us, so we seek out things, unnatural and impure that will damage our connecting wires to the higher source of power, known as God? He is the creator of the power many seek, but many dismiss him. Still, he tries to get our attention.

I’m reveling as I travel in mid air, staring down at the mortals going in billions of directions and thinking they have found the right exit or entrance that will lead them to some form of paradise. But if they get there, will they want to stay or will they get bored, as most humans do, and look for yet another oasis, higher and more alluring than the one they want to leave?

Our minds are filled with questions, but life only reveals so much of the answers to them. We have to pay attention, but at times, this is too hard. There is a constant battle for our attention, yet, a force, higher than ourselves never tires of chasing us; challenging us to face each new trick with the real TRUTH in order to wake up the masses.

As for this Sister, she is never tired or bored of the thinking that is required for spiritual growth. And as you follow her lead, you too will find yourself mounting up on wings of eagles, flying high above the clouds, so high, you ride above the storms.

I descend now…listening to Isaac Hayes–shaking my hips; the music settles, and yet another voice, sings…

Black Men Who Regret Dating/Marrying White Women…

We’ve all seen him: the brother who acts like the hand of the FBI has come down on him because he’s dating a pale-skinned, blue veined, whiny-voiced, white chick, named Astrid. She walks a few paces behind him, as he leads, holding his head down or averting eye contact, particularly with Black women; to avoid detection that yes, he has took a dip in the Clairol and got a bleached blond in tow.

It’s always hilarious.

And how about when out in public at other places: the sisters sitting at Ruby Tuesdays, watching with X-ray vision as the brother walks in with “one of them” and sits nearby. What do they do? Start rolling their eyes, tsk-tsking; shaking their heads in disgust. And some sisters who are bold enough, actually verbally attack right there. Or just get up and move away.

The brother knows not to say anything…because after all, most brothers that date “them” are scared of these very type of sisters, right? They typically believe all of the stereotypes about white women: being freakier in bed, more submissive enablers, will do anything they say–no matter what; it’s always, “anything you say…”

Should any man be given that type of power in a relationship?

Well, I’m all for humor, but to get to the real point, every Black man is not always passionate about being with a white woman as he thought. Some, just don’t find anything new, and move on. Others really do begin to miss being with Black women, the culture recognition that Black women have, as well as the joy of just being in a good relationship with someone they can relate to on all levels. Others just think white chicks are weird and get tired of them–fast. Some get tired of always having to explain ish about certain cultural things about our people–our reactions, or just having to school the child because she’s not very street smart as sisters are known to be. And then there are some brothers who get tired of their hair everywhere. Nothing like someone coming up to you and lifting a Caucasian strand of hair off of your shirt. The shed like dogs (no wonder they love them so much). You’ll be pulling that stuff from everywhere: your house, car, bed sheets, and places you couldn’t even imagine. And then, there’s the crying white woman. They always cry about something–even if it’s stupid, but how about if they do that in front of white men…a real brother knows what that can appear to be. White women still hold to white male patriarchy and will cling to it if it gives them the subliminal advantage.

Frankly, I’m tired of the issue, but it’s a hot-button topic that just won’t go away, thus, I’d like to say, every Black man is not interested and will never be interested in being with white women, however, men are going to be men, and if he has a boner, and the chick happens to be named Ingrid, it’s a rap.

I’ve talked to many brothers over the years, and Black women have nothing to worry about, believe me.

However, it’s the perception that has become reality for many…and all I can tell you, is that the grass is not always greener on the other side and many brothers are happy to jump back over the fence.

Will President Barack Obama Be the First and Last Black President?

Really?

Oops.

That title actually was inspired by this article: http://www.ndtv.com/article/offbeat/last-black-president-insult-obama-at-your-own-peril-494771

I forgot.

He doesn’t want to be the “Black President” which would account for his lousy track record for helping the African American community.

Did I say that?

For several months, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…and I wonder if the question I asked in the opening is really a prophecy, given the mixed reviews of the president’s record.

Sure, he’s had some successes, but so many failures, in regards to perception of him.

In 2008, Black people were largely responsible for getting him elected, however, it clearly became evident that he was not interested in helping those African Americans who needed the most help. In fact, he went out of his way to distance himself from the African American community;particularly appeasing whites, many of whom had no hesitation to show their disdain for him, even suggesting that he wasn’t even American.

During speeches, many times, when a high visibility of African Americas were present, Obama often would seemingly “talk down to” or scold African Americans, as in the speech he gave at Morehouse. I was so outraged by his tone, I promptly sent him a letter, calling him out on what I felt was a spectacle for every racist white liberal who seems to feel that Black people are responsible for every negative thing in this country. However, many Black people kept silent, as to appear in solidarity in support for the nations fist African American president. Any criticism they had would be kept under tight vault.

Now however, some are speaking bluntly and many are not impressed at all. New Black Panther Party Chairman, Malik Zulu put it this way: “Black peoples are the whores and prostitutes of the Democratic Party, and mistreated mistress that is courted in the late of night, but left hanging when it is time for real change in the light of the post election day,” Shabazz wrote, following a dissertation on the need to “Vote for Revolution.

The black community is at large no better off that (sic) before he was in office. We are curious as to what his agenda is for Black people in America and if he even has one.
Mr. Obama’s policies have not corrected the economic troubles of America, they have gotten worse,” Kweli wrote. “The debt continues to expand [into the trillions], and the administration’s handling of international relations has hardened dialogue with foreign nations. Mr. Obama’s policies have been especially harsh to us the Black community. He [Obama] bailed out Wall Street and the auto makers but kept us at the top of the unemployment ladder.”

If this isn’t enough, just look at his appointments:

Back in 2013, Black Caucus Chairman, Marcia Fudge, took Obama to task for having a lack of Blacks in his cabinet. “A month after Fudge’s request, President Obama nominated Rep. Mel Watt (D-NC) to be the Director of the Federal Housing Finance Agency. Â Then, the President nominated former Charlotte Mayor Anthony Foxx to be the Secretary of Transportation. Â Today, Jeh Johnson, a Morehouse man whose dad was President of Fisk, was nominated by the President to be the next Secretary of Homeland Security. Â If Johnson is confirmed by the Senate, he will be the third African American member of Obama’s cabinet. – See more at: http://www.crewof42.com/cbc-2/watt-foxx-johnson-3-blacks-nominated-after-fudge-request/#sthash.PoDwmkvs.dpuf

Look at the racial hue. Hhhmmm…is this sending a message of how Obama really thinks?
If a picture is worth a thousand words… He tries to act like he’s one of us, but intrinsically, the man is as white as his late mother. Only “they” should be in charge–certainly not US. Is this the message?

In 2016, We will most definitely get our answer…won’t we?

Steve Harvey…SHUT UP!

 

In 2012, Steve Harvey retired from comedy–I guess for good, after his book, Act Like A Man, Think Like a Lady became a national best seller. I remember scanning through it at a bookstore and kind of got snarky about what I read. It wasn’t anything that I hadn’t heard before and what really irked me the most was that this was coming from a man who had been married 3 times.

What did he really know about long lasting relationships if he hadn’t been in one?

While doing some Googling, I ran across this article quote that kind of summed up my feelings totally about Mr. Harvey.

By: Kirsten West Savali | Posted: April 5, 2012

“In a piece for the Huffington Post critiquing the approach of the author-comedian-relationship guru, Kirsten West Savali predicts that the only redeeming feature of his new film, Think Like a Man, will be the money it makes at the box office.

I don’t like Steve Harvey — yes, I said it.

To be more precise, since I’ve never met the man personally, I don’t like what Steve Harvey represents.

There is an arrogance — a barely sheathed tone of alpha-male superiority that permeates everything he spews from politics to relationships — that simply makes my skin crawl. In his controversial “book,” Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, he presumes that women are so desperate to snare a man that they will blindly lap up advice from anyone with a pen and a publicist. In a deliberate attempt at adverse-feminism, he casts women as simple-minded huntresses who — with a simple fifteen-dollar literary weapon from Barnes & Noble — will be armed with the sophisticated techniques needed to catch our flawed masculine prey. To make matters worse, he has a consistent habit of illuminating the misogyny in the Bible for public consumption, as if the Great One himself parted the clouds and said, “Woman, thou shall be a lady in the streets, but a freak in the sheets … (((sheets))) … (((sheets))) … ”

Basically, Steve Harvey is annoying.”

I’ve watched him for years and can’t think of one time in which he made me laugh.

More precise, I’ve listened to his morning radio show a few times, and I get so tired of the sermons. He’s found God, so he thinks, and like all neophyte Christians, he thinks it’s his job to cast out demons, chastise, preach to, and sermonize all the hedonists that listen to his show ever single morning. It gets tired and it takes away from the format. He’s not playing Donny McClurkin, he’s playing R. Kelly, Mr. Bump & Grind himself, after his proselytizing. Really, man….

All I can say, if Steve Harvey can become a best selling author, talk show host, game show host, radio host, and pseudo-lecturer in the span of 2 years, we all should hire his publicist, because talent ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.

Thou Shalt Not Have Bad Cooks At The Family Cookout!

2 weekends ago, my family had an outing for all of the grandchildren, great grandchildren, great-great, grandchildren, etc., at my late grandparents home.  Everyone turned out, and I was excited to see so many of my cousins, aunts, and uncles that I hadn’t seen in a while.  I socialized heartily, hugging and greeting everyone, waving like the queen, cheesing like I was a Miss America pageant winner and all; I was really feeling a ‘happy’ vibe’…that is…until the food got served.  I put two ribs on my plate, some macaroni and cheese, potato salad, two beef franks, and got some lemonade.  I had only eaten a light breakfast that morning, so I was pretty hungry.  I found me a seat, sat down, and started to grub.  Took a bite of the rib, and Lawd!  The meat was tough.  Ripped at it like a Rottweiler. Then I took a bite of the macaroni–it tasted like old stale cheese that was in the refrigerator too long, then the potato salad–ugh!  All I tasted was salt.  What happened to the flavor?  I looked around…trying not to be obvious.  I was going to throw this ish in the garbage.  I played it off for about 20 minutes, then I made my move. SWOOSH!  There went the plate.    I only ate the beef franks because Oscar Meyer made those.  And thank God my cousin made some great lemonade.  I had 4 cups of it to wash the taste out of my mouth from the bad macaroni.

As I continued my socializing…all I could do was to ponder how in the world could some of my family members be this incompetent at cooking?  I love macaroni.  How dare someone bring this kind of food to a cookout.  May I also add: that I do not trust people who can’t make macaroni.  Frankly, I think it’s a crime.

What was going on?

I swear…I thought I was being punked by a show that should have been called, Worst Cooks in America.

Had my aunts and some of my cousins not ever heard of seasonings?

We’re all southerners.  That in and of itself should qualify, but here’s the kicker: many southern people can’t cook like our ancestors did.  Oh, I can burn, baby.  Trust me on that, but I had to sit there and realize that as much as I loved many of these people, no money on this earth would ever be enough for me to allow such a travesty to take place ever again.

Next year, I will be cooking.  I already have made my list.

I demand a family meeting. This must be discussed in detail.  Lives are at stake.

I’m sorry, but some people just should not be in charge of preparing food on this level.

One of my cousins who was grilling…acted like he was not quite there.  I couldn’t figure it out.  Had he ever heard of marinating meat, then basting between slow cooking on the grill?  I pondered over this.  Something was awry.

Don’t ever let strangers cook at the cookout.  And make sure you know WHO’S COOKING. Everyone is not blessed.

There are three things I’ve learned about cookouts:

1. Some people know how to grill
2. Some people think they know how to grill
3. And there are some who should not be allowed to grill–EVER!

I was very disappointed about the food, but it was a good day, and I guess, what really mattered most, is that we came together as a family, and the most important thing that got served was LOVE.

Right?

*Ok…I was still mad about the macaroni…

The Essence of Black Love…

What’s love got to do with it?  It has everything to do with it.

We are family…and the Black race was created by Black love.

There is no other group to which I belong nor claim.  Sure, my blood may have many different mixes resulting from the global reality of migration of African people, as well as time, circumstances, and polarity, but nonetheless, I am of African descent.

In the beginning, God spoke existence into being.  Adam was a Black man.  And Eve was created from his rib.  She was his genetic equal.  All Black people and life came from Africa.  We were the first to BE.  And God looked at what he created and knew it was good. From this divine birthing, a race of people came that would be the first to civilize the earth.

We were born in the image of God, and to not love one another, is to hate our creator.

Growing up, I never once had any reaction to seeing Black men and women married to each other or with each other romantically. However, today, with the reality of interracial dating and marriage impacting society; many Black men and women are often shocked to see a Black couple.

The media distorts the image of the Black family and thus, creates a false image of dysfunction to the masses, that becomes the new paradigm.  But why do so many of us believe what is false?

I am all for love in our community.  When Black fathers were in the home, our families were strong.  The image of a proud, strong Black man, gave confidence to all Black sons in the community. Being married to a good Black woman was the norm.

The beautiful Black women that I saw every day in my old neighborhood in Chicago would make some fashion models look like somebody’s house pet. They were fierce.  The essence of femininity and creation.  Blessed with beauty, brains, and the poetic grace of gazelles, I remember how when these ladies walked down the street, it was as if even the sun stood still in respect.

There aren’t many memories I have of Black men and women hating one another.  I witnessed the opposite.  The Black men bragged on Black women.  They loved to look at them, flirt with them, be with them, marry them, and put them on pedestals.  Yes!  I am a witness to Black love in all of its essence.

Being married to a Black man/woman shouldn’t shock anyone who is right in their mind.  It is the only normal to me, and to me, that is divine.