They're still around? Really?!

In court tomorrow, I have a case involving a registered sex offender, his wife, a popsicle, a banana, and a protective order. The story is crazy and not one that I will go into here because the thought of it makes me want to gag.

Anyway, it has been reported to us that the defendant has said that if he is convicted tomorrow, he's going to "take out" everyone in the court room.

It has further been reported to us that defendant's brother is a member of the Klan and he plans to take action if his brother is convicted.

I was the prosecutor that convicted his brother back in January of violating a protective order. With this new piece of information, I will not be the prosecutor tomorrow.

When I reported this news to my boss, he nonchalantly gave orders to call in extra security for the day and went on about his business. About five minutes later, he came into my office and said, "I don't know if this is good or bad, but I just now get why this is such a big deal. Klan. African-American prosecutor. Now I get it!"

Here's the rant: The Klan?!!!! Really?!!!! They're still around? According to the Southern Poverty Law Center, yes, they are still around. No chapters where I live, but there are some very close. Just the threat of dealing with the Klan has me changing my plans. I'm parking behind my house instead of out front on the street. I'm wearing flat shoes to court tomorrow in case I need to make a break for it. Even though someone else in my office is handling the case, I'm still a bit concerned.

If mention of "the Klan" still has this much power to instill fear, you can only imagine the power the N word still has.

Some things will never go away no matter how much we want them to disappear.

"You'd have to have a baby first."

I was in the nail shop a few weeks ago getting all dolled up for a trip I was planning to take. A little girl was sitting up front waiting for her mom. She looked to be about seven or eight years old. She had a number of twisty braids in her hair and each was adorned with two or three barrettes - all in hot pink to match her dress and her mother's pants. She was a pretty chocolate colored girl with a pie shaped face and dancing eyes. She was watching me intently as I was trying to pick out a color.

She started our conversation by telling me that I should paint my toes green as she pointed to a bottle of neon green paint. When I told her that green didn't suit me, she asked "What's your favorite color?". When I replied, "purple", she told me that was the color I should paint my toes. I told her that wouldn't go with the outfit I was planning to wear. She asked me where I was going and I told her D.C. Then she asked, "Where your kids at?". I told her I didn't have any kids. She asked, "Why?". I said, "I'm not ready for that yet." She said, "Yeah, cuz you'd have to have a baby first." I smiled, said good-bye, and made my way back to the magic pedicure chairs.

As I was sitting there with my feet in the water and my eyes closed, I chuckled about what the pretty pie-faced girl had said to me. Did she think I wasn't ready to have kids because I had no babies, i.e. babies grow up to be kids? The logic in that was quite strong, but at the same time, very funny. But then I realized that I hadn't told her that I had no babies. So then I started asking myself broader questions like, "Was this child's sole purpose in my life to tell me that I need to have babies?".

Here's the rant: BABIES...UGH!!!!!!! I love the idea of having children, but I've never relished the idea of giving birth. I also loath the idea of sleepless nights and 3 a.m. feedings. I love holding babies and watching them smile, but the idea of carrying one for nine months is scarier than a Hitchcock movie. On my Dad's side of the family, my sister and I are the only cousins of our age group that have no children. Last week I was at a family reunion. While hugging one of my cousins goodbye, she said to me "Ima pray that you have a baby real soon." I told her not to pray that for me. Why is it that having children is such a necessity? I'm not saying that I don't want to be a mother, but giving birth is not on my priority list.

So I've been considering adoption. I'm not financially ready to do that right now, but I have a few questions that I need to answer first. Is it selfish of me to adopt a child because I want to be a mom? Doesn't that child deserve a dad too? (For those of you that don't know, I'm chronically single.)

Sigh.

Just wondering...

I was in Target today when I heard a little boy say, "Look, Mom. They even have Michael Jackson shirts!" Being the ultimate MJ fan that I am, I walked over to look at the shirt to which the little boy was referring. It was a sequined tank top with a picture of a white woman with long hair wearing large sunglasses and a leather jacket. All I could do was shake my head and chuckle. But it did make me wonder - how does the young generation make sense of the changing MJ? Or do they just know the last version of him? I mean, it's not like anyone buys records or cds anymore, so there are no album covers to look at while you listen to the music. I wonder how aware that little boy is that MJ used to look more like me than like him. I wonder if they claim him as ferociously, personally, and adamantly as we do.

No rant today. Just wondering.

"One Like You"

This morning, as I walked up the steps toward the courtroom (I'm an attorney, for those of you that didn't know), I was greeted by a frantic bailiff. He ran down the steps as fast as his gray haired, seventy-something year old legs could carry him and announced, "The judge is waiting for you! Hurry up! He's on the bench waiting for you!" My heart started racing. Stress took over and I started to feel the knots develop in the back of my neck.

He met me half way on the steps and grabbed my files from me in an effort to be helpful. As he was lightening my load, I said, "He's waiting for me? I'm not supposed to be in court until 8:15. It's only 8:00."

"Aren't you supposed to be in front of Judge Green?"

"No. I'm in front of Judge Smith."

"Oh, I'm sorry." And with that, he handed me back my files and went back to his courtroom.

About an hour later, I ran into the bailiff again. I was returning to court to deal with a Defendant who didn't make it to court on time earlier in the morning. As he passed me on the steps, he said "I'm sorry about earlier. Judge Green was waiting for another one like you."

The only reason that I knew what "another one like me" meant was because on my way to court, I passed an unfamiliar African-American woman who, I could tell by the badge around her neck, worked for the Department of Social Services. We spoke to each other in that "I'm sooooo happy to see another Black person who's not a defendant" kind of way and kept moving. She was the other one like me to which the bailiff was referring.

Here's the rant: Another one like me?! Really?!!!! Wow.

And for those of you wondering, yes, the bailiff was Caucasian.

Help, please.

Why in the world are people so reticent to ask for help? We're quick to pray for it and then watch and wait. But has it ever occurred to anyone that the help we pray for might be right in front of us?

Here's the rant: I have a young family member who has either withdrawn from or failed out of school. If she failed out, why in the world didn't she ask someone for help before it got so bad?! There are three people in our family that hold the same degree that she was trying to earn. All she had to do was drop an email or give a quick phone call. If she withdrew, what in the world was she thinking?! It makes me so angry to know that with just a year left before graduation, she will not be returning to school. Life is hard enough for African-American women, but to be one with no college degree?! Sigh.

She may read this post, and if she does, she'll know exactly where I'm coming from when I sit down to talk with her in a few weeks. If she doesn't read this, I'm going to need some advice on how to approach her. Anger and wisdom are usually not heard by young ears. The young ones usually think they know everything and don't want to hear what you have to say because "you don't understand me".

What do I say to her? Any help here would be greatly appreciated.