No… really I did.
I know in the world of Tik Tok and IG Stories vlogs people don’t read blogs too much anymore.
I’m ok with that.
We had a time though. My readers and contributors back when we were The K Word… were top tier epic. We laughed and cried through a lot. So I guess I will renew my blog for another year. Maybe I will write every few months when I have things to say. Maybe I won’t.
I’m ok with that too.
So today is officially the end of my 40 year old probation. I have survived the first 90 days in my 40s… and chile. Whew!
Let’s get to the good, the bag, and the other stuff.
The Good
Every black woman/person (but specifically, woman) should be in a book club. At the beginning of the year, I connected with 8 dope folx and started our Books and Bites book club.
We are all across the country and all across the spectrum, with a common goal of a good read + a good group. Over the year, the number has gone up (and down), but the O.R. (original readers) are still on deck. We have read books from every genre from gothic to gossip. I have learned a lot from the books I loved and much from the ones… I loved less. I have learned even more about myself from the conversations we have during our monthly meetings. Nothing makes you reflect more than when someone repeats back your words to you. I cherish them, and I cherish the time we have. I will definitely keep y’all posted on what we are reading.
Currently it is The Secret Lives of Four Wives by @LolaShoneyin
The Bag
So as many of my long time readers know. I have been in the fashion industry for over 10 years. Most of those 10 years I worked in the fashion photography aspect. I have had some amazing experiences with some beautiful (inside and out) folx. But the beginning of this year, I decided to take me talents to… IT. I am currently a project manager for the same company. And while, there are certain people (shout out to Nola) who told me to make the jump a decade ago… everything happens in its own time.
And I began this new journey in my 40s I invested in myself and went for the CSM certification, with no plans on stopping. So all the women I have loved and lost, when folks say “You fumbled the bag” … I am the bag Beloved.
The Other Stuff
This year has been an emotional rollercoaster of love, loss and a taste of motherhood. I have learned so much about my self in that last bit of my 30s. I am going to take the lessons that serve me, and move past the mistakes that didn’t. It was a bumpy rides lovebugs. But isn’t it always with me lol?
I think I am going back to the days of the Kword where I wrote and lived like no one was watching/reading. Next stop Egypt with the Queen Mother… after that. We will see.
Love Y’all Mean it.
Oh and I know I forgot to post the rest of my book…. because… I’m horrible that way. But it’s coming.
Hello Lovebugs!
Long time to post.
I would apologize for my absence but… I am damn near 40 (as in next week). Life happens… and life happened.
Short story shorter, I am at a stage in life where a lot of things I thought were non-negotiable… were negotiated. People I thought I would know the rest of my life… I won’t. And there a myriad of other life lessons I got the hard way.
But yes I am still around, still black and still gay. I am just in a new tax bracket, a new dress size, and with a whole new list of grown folks issues. So I said hell… why don’t I blog about it. It will keep me honest… even when I lie (mostly to myself).
And so The Kword becomes… Hello40s.
Oh and feel free to read all the irrerevent stuff I wrote back in my 20s… on here. I was a whole freaking wave.
And heck no I am not going to update/change all my old things to say Hello40s because…. a) I wasn’t 40 then, and b) my 40th self now doesn’t have the bandwidth or desire for that much needless work. *peaceful sigh*
Good morning Lovebugs,
Long time no see… I have been out here trying to mind my business, remodel my home and drink my water.
But of course, whenever you reach a higher plane, someone tries to bring you back down. No no, this isn’t a breakup post, I have done my share of those. It is not about family dysfunction or friends’ betrayal.
This is the story of a no-name, non-factor who decided that today was the day they wanted to knock me off my square. And as a result, he got himself knocked off the block.
*Warning: No one was physically harmed in this situation, but if there had been I wouldn’t have been wrong.*
So before we go into the “incident”, I want to be very clear about a few things. I have been Black all my life. I have been in corporate America, about half of that life. As a woman, specfically a Black woman, I am not naive to microaggressions either due to my race or my gender (and usually both). I have dealt with tone policing, oppurtunity shaming, assumptions of my seniority, and have had several occassions where I have been requested to be the “voice of Black America” in conversations.
There have been many times that I have allowed things to be done and said around me. Originally due to my youth and fear of hurting my future, I accepted it. And as time went on, and bills piled up, I told myself to ignore it. I said it wasn’t worth the fight. I was wrong.
I don’t know whether it is my age or my re-attachment to my ancestors, but I am not that girl anymore.
Yesterday started off amazing. I found out my contractor was coming back to work after a surgery. I went to bed smiling after an amazing conversation. I was preparing for my mom to come in town for my neice’s wedding. I was happy. Like very happy. I put on a simple graphic tee highlighting my happiness. Yep… this is a story about a t-shirt.
I decide to grab a cup of coffee from the catering service in the corporate cafeteria. I smile to greet Mr. Coffee (I don’t actually know his name) and order my Cuban toast and cortadito.
“Why are you wearing a racist shirt?”
I was so caught off guard that I turned around to see who he was speaking to. After a second of confusion, I turned and looked back at him. He was talking to me.
“Why not wear a White is my happy color?”
Oh he is serious serious. I tried to de escalate (because that is what we are taught to do) and say “Well if Pink was my happy color or Yellow was my happy color I would wear that shirt too”. I thought that would stop him but it didn’t.
“Well I guess you can be happy all the time then” with a laugh.
At that point, I knew he was not going to stop. I knew any response would feed into it, so I paid and walked to the other side of the counter while I waited for my food.
I sat there. I replayed the conversation in my head. I sat there some more. I initially tried to blame myself for wearing the shirt. I gaslit my damn self and was going to sweep it under the rug. He had several oppurtunities not to be harmful and he just didn’t care. He doubled down at every turn. He wanted to make my blackness to be something he could target for his enjoyment. This was not about the words on the shirt, it was the black body wearing it.
The whispers in my heart and head, said “Nah Kristi not today”. I couldn’t be complicit. I couldn’t rationalize that he was just the guy in the cafeteria. There are too many young black interns at this company that I would be giving him permission to make uncomfortable. I would have made it ok for him to say something out of the way to the young sister I used to be. It is not just about me.
I never want anyone to lose their job. I never want someone to be banned from their workplace. But I will choose me and mine… everytime.
First I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that as I write this, President Elect Biden and VP Elect Harris are preparing for their inauguration. I know I keep saying this isn’t going to be a political blog but hey that’s what happening right now. It is amazing to be able to see the first Black woman to reach the heights of Vice President. I didn’t wear my pearls or my Chucks because I overslept but just know I am standing in solidarity with this new administration.
Off topic on topic, I didn’t realize until today (Don’t blame my public school education!) that I have been incorrectly thinking that VP Elect Harris is the first non white person to hold that office. Charles Curtis, member of the Kaw Nation, was inaugurated as America’s first (and only) Native American vice president in 1928. I will say there are definitely mixed feelings about the effects of his vice presidency on indigenous people and America at large. However, that my dear reader is another post and deserves a different voice than mine.
Now back to the point of the post (you all are used to me by now I hope), I DON’T WANT TO SELL FREAKING MASKS ON ETSY. Dramatic much? Maybe but I’m serious. I just want to sew up some masks and send them out to my friends and loved ones without feeling guilty or lacking of hustle.
I never thought I would learn to sew. My mother has sewn my whole entire life. I have seen her even make suits for my brother and dresses for myself. Eight years I begged her for a sewing machine. I just knew I was going to make masterpieces,I ended up making… not a damn thing.
Enter Miss Rona + a few hours on Youtube + several trips to Joann Fabric. I am officially a sewing machine. I went from not being able to even wind the bobbin to making about 200+ reversible cloth masks.
I have loved the experience. I have made masks for almost everyone I know (and quite a few I didn’t know). From the family members I have known my whole life to the folks I have only chatted with via DM, I have sent out dozens and dozens of postal stamp adhered, colorful envelopes with a mask and a note inside. For my 38th birthday, I made 38 bags of masks and hand sanitizers as part of my celebration. I was able to drop them off at nearby bus stops for those who hopefully needed them the most.
I’m not saying I am a needle wielding Mother Teresa.
I have greatly benefitted personally from the experience. I love learning new things, and sewing is definitely challenging. Though raggedy at first, as I got better at it, my confidence increased tremendously. Every time someone posted a picture or sent me a note of thanks it felt amazing. There was even a calming effect of thinking that I was doing something to fight the virus for myself and the people I loved. It led me to create new and reignite old connections with people. It is therapeutic. It has definitely helped me create peace during this extremely troubling time.
And then came the “Girl you need to sell those masks”, “You know how much you could be making with masks?”, “My cousin’s sister’s coworker wants to buy one”, “I need 5 like the one who had on for my Christmas presents.”
Now my spirit said, No Kristi. You are already blessed. You have learned a new skill that brings you joy. You were able to keep your job. You have not lost anyone close to you due to Covid. You don’t “need” the money.
The narcissist on the left shoulder grinned “Everybody loves your masks because they are so great and unique.” The hustler on my shoulder whispered “You like nice things… and money requires them”.
So I made 5.
Then I made 10.
Each time them selling out almost immediately. It was great. The money bought some more perfume bottles for my collection. But it didn’t give me the feelings anymore. I found myself not as excited to rush home and stitch and sew. It was a business. I found myself falling down into the whole of my closed on hiatus journal making business. I had no interest in making masks at all, not even for myself. I would set out to make them, and then lose the desire. Until Monday. For years, every MLK day I have participated in the MLK day of service. From picking up trash to painting school, it has always been a designated day for me to give me. Since the traditional events were canceled, I had an idea. I cranked up the music and again made 21 masks to distribute in the community for MLK 2021. And just like that I had the feeling again that I missed. The feeling that money just could not buy.
So for the baker, who likes to make red velvet cakes, you don’t have to want to be the next Julia Child. There is still joy in linking the spoon.
For the poet, who speaks your truth and take up your space, you don’t have to make a CD to be worth listening to.
Hobbies don’t always have to be hustles. Hobbies can just be that. BUT if you decide to make it your love your livelihood, I’m here for it. Just don’t forget to send me a link because I will support all of the things!
XOXO, Kristi
And one more thing, JUSTICE *clap* SONIA *clap* SOTOMAYOR *clap*, sis you just couldn’t get her damn name right could you? There were whole national discourses on how to pronounce her name. There were freaking shirts on how to pronounce her name. Are you serious? Girl, I can not.
Oh and the first 5 people that comment on this post, just shoot me your postal address and I will make you a mask… for fun.
The Green Mile. Ghost. The Legend of Bagger Vance. Driving Miss Daisy. THE DAMN GREEN MILE. Yes I had to say it twice.
All four movies have two things in common, they were critically acclaimed and they were contrived almost fully using the device of the magical negro trope. Well actually they have a third thing in common, in that I have seen them all (except Bagger Vance) multiple times.
What is the magical negro trope exactly? While definitions vary slightly, the universal understanding of the magical negro is how movies use wise, valiant, otherworldly Black characters in movies as devices to help and often teach the white protagonist to be a better person. Spike Lee started the academic conversation about this back in 2001, but even without his heralding, we all know it when we see it.
The concept of the magical negro has stepped off the silver screen in public discourse before too. President Barack Hussein Obama was often the target of the magical negro discussion. To the point that that pill popping Rush Limbaugh had the nerve… the unmitigated gall… to sing a song “Barack the magic negro” to the tune of Puff the magic damn dragon. You think I am kidding? Google it. There is a whole bootleg video on Youtube. I refuse to link it here though.
Wait wait wait. I have to include one of my favorite movies in this conversation “The Imitation of Life”… I am still mad about ALL OF THAT DAMN MOVIE. And yes you did kill your mother Sarah Jane. You killed her!!
Deep sigh. Keep it together Kristi. It was just a movie.
Enter Eugene Goodman.
For those who are not aware, he is the capitol police officer who distracted a mob of angry, violent rioters from the Senate Chambers. There is a video floating around that shows him blocking the hallway that led to the chambers, then going as far as shoving one of the rioters to bait the mob into chasing him in a different direction. His swift decision to put himself in harms’ way most surely saved countless lives and injuries.
Now let me be very clear, Eugene Goodman is a hero. He deserves all of the accolades available from the Congressional medal of honor to the… moon. I will sign any petition necessary. I will champion any discussion. I am here for all of it.
What he doesn’t deserve is a movie where after saving the seat of democracy, he feels the need to reach out to the horn wearing, organic food only eating criminal to help him see the error of his ways. He doesn’t deserve to take the kids of the MAGA hat wearing seditious Becky under his wings as she languishes for her court date. He doesn’t deserve to be the affable partner to the newly created white character that really saved the day. That is not the answer. THAT CAN NOT BE THE ANSWER.
Morgan Freeman, while a national treasure, is tired, let him rest. Will Smith is chilling with Jada across the room from the red table top. Cuba Gooding Jr… is doing something. Matthew McCoughney is busy… probably filming another white savior movie. It’s almost MLKs birthday. Hell it’s a pandemic. I will start naming completely unrelated reasons why this shouldn’t happen if necessary. Sigh.
XOXO, Kristi
So… 2020 was raggedy. That’s a hard fact, but I tell you 2021 is giving us very “wait hold me beer”. In the first week of 2021, the Capitol building was stormed by Confederate flag waving, MAGA hat donning rioters. I won’t go more into this act of sedition because that is a conversation that is being had over and over again.
Well actually I might take a second to reiterate some additional things.
*This is the point dear reader where I changed the complete focus of this post, and changed the title. My original post will be coming down the pike in a bit*
I see a lot of well meaning folks calling for those people to be charged with treason. Now while I think they need to be locked all the way up, treason is not what they committed (based on what we know right now). Treason is when an American citizen levies war against the U.S. or gives aid to foreign enemies. That’s really rare to see prosecuted and convicted, mostly because the penalty can be death. I think the last time was in the 50s.
What those wall climbing (and falling), horn wearing, election losing CRIMINALS did do was sedition. Sedition is right up there with treason. Sedition is any conspiracy to overthrow, put down or to destroy by force the government of the United States.
Examples of seditious acts are attempts to prevent, hinder, or delay the execution of any law of the US (which they did), or seize, take, or posses any property of the United States (which they damn well did). It is also a federal felony offense but the penalty is less severe than death, it is a max of 20 years.
Now that we have that a little straighter, let’s talk about how things are going right now. So as of yesterday, Michael Sherwin, US Attorney for the District of Columbia, said it looks like more than 160 case files have been opened and 70 people charged so far. We have seen the videos of people being arrested all over the country.
Most of the charges I have seen are ones of curfew violation and unlawful entry. I, like most people, at first glance gave a major side eye. I was ready and waiting to shake my head in disgust. Sherwin said Aht Aht Aht. For many of those arrested, these petty ass misdemeanor charges are “just the beginning”. The quick charges/arrests of the smaller crimes were so they could get these folks identified and put on ice. It is easy to get an arrest warrant for unlawful entry, especially when there is photo evidence and often self-incriminating live streams.
DC and the FBI are still looking to pursue significant felony charges of first degree murder (remember people died during the commission of the felonies), sedition and conspiracy. I don’t even think the power of white women’s tears is going to be able to work this time. So yeah… lots of those folks are going to jail jail.
Well… they should be going to jail jail *shrugs* Because… you know this is still America.
XOXO, Kristi
Hello 40s (formerly the Kword) 