I don't hand out crowns for skin color.

I've got something to say. 

I'm a proud black woman. I have never been ashamed of my skin color and I have never wished I was a different race (except sometimes when I'm straightening my hair but that's a different story). I love black people. I love our culture and our features. 

But...

I am completely fed up with this expectation that black men and women should be treated like kings and queens for the sole reason that we are black. We always claim that we are so much more deserving of opportunities than others because of "what we've been through". First off, our ancestors were the slaves. Our ancestors were the ones who got us here, not us. Yes, there's still a lot of racism, but if you are truly a king or queen, then stupidity and prejudice shouldn't hold you back. Our skin color was the reason we have been oppressed for so many years, so why would you want your skin color to credit your value? I don't give out crowns for skin color. A man is not a king if he doesn't act accordingly. A woman is not a queen if she doesn't act like one. You don't deserve to sit on a throne if you conduct yourself like a peasant. It's not about skin color. I've seen plenty black men and women who claim they are strong just because they are black. You gain strength from pushing through difficult moments. You don't gain strength because of the amount of melanin in your skin. You are not a king if you are going around selling drugs and calling it a job. You are not a queen if you are paying your bills by screwing a guy that gives you money. You are not a king if you disrespect women and call them out of their name. You are not a queen if you disrespect yourself by exposing yourself to men undeserving. You are not a king or a queen if you don't take care of your children or put your children first. I won't respect anyone who doesn't respect themselves. I won't see a man as a king or a woman as a queen if they don't respect themselves, don't work to support the family, or blame everyone else but themselves for their misfortune--black or not. To be a king and queen, you have to work for it. You have to embody it. You want racial equality? Then you work your ass off and don't expect anything to fall in your lap because of your skin color. Take responsibility for your actions. Don't blame the world for your hardships, push through them. Earn your crown and earn your throne. When you know you worked for it, when you embody the essence of king or queen, even if you may get knocked off your throne a little bit, no one can take that away from you. 

Oh, and I know so many of you work for your crowns day in and day out, and I respect you for that. We all have the ability to be kings and queens. Do it. Believe it. Embody it. Become it. 

*no offense to anyone, just a moment to vent*

what is feminism?

I haven't blogged in a while, and that may be because of two things: I've mentally been in the wrong place or I've been too busy trying to get my life together. I'll go with the latter for my own benefit. 

I've been seeing some tweets about feminism and they haven't been very positive. What people seem to think feminism is is some attack on all males, women will rule the world, men are evil, men are the woman's enemy.....yaddayadda. People also seem to think that feminism gives women the right to be naked in public as a way of "being comfortable with themselves" or that wearing no bra is a sign of liberation (from what I'm not sure). None of that is true at all. Feminism, by definition from the Webster dictionary, is 1 :  the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes 2 :  organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests. Nowhere in that definition does it say feminism is the glorification of man-eating, butt-naked, breast-gallanting, male-abhorring women. 

Now, many people may have a negative view of feminism because uneducated people pull stupid stunts and stamp the idea of feminism on them. For example, many women claim that Rihanna wearing the extremely sheer, flapper-inspired dress to the CFDA Awards was an act of feminism because she bared herself "fearlessly" and empowered women to embrace their bodies. No. First of all, she did it to get attention, to keep herself relevant in the media, to get people talking about her. It wasn't fearless, it was careless. It was an act displaying a lack of self-respect, a will to get attention no matter the cost. She makes millions of dollars and has millions of fans and still feels as though the only way to capture attention is to be naked. And, trust me, I love Rihanna just as much as the next person, but that was inexcusable in my eyes, and definitely not an act of feminism. 

Secondly, I want to put this on the table for everyone to know. Feminism and female empowerment are not the same thing. Like I said previously, feminism is the idea of women being socially, economically, intellectually and culturally equal to men. Female empowerment is the uplifting of women, not above men, but within themselves. Female empowerment  is keeping girls and women believing that they are beautiful, smart, and worthy of respect, no matter what society or anyone else says. It's a way to build and maintain self-esteem and confidence within the female community. Similar to feminism slightly, but not the same at all. 

Thirdly, not just women are feminists. Many men are too! I found a great definition of feminism on Urban Dictionary, surprisingly: "Feminism is the belief that women are and should be treated as potential intellectual equals and social equals to men. These people can be either male or female, although the ideology is commonly (and falsely) associated mainly with women." So how can a man be a man-eating woman? (Unless sex change...never mind). Feminism is also the idea that people deserve and are entitled to equal freedom and equal civil rights, and should not be discriminated upon because of gender, race, sexual orientation, age, culture, religion, or way of living. 

Feminism is not, by any stretch of the imagination, what Nicki Minaj is trying to act upon in her new 'Anaconda' video, which many seem to believe is the case. A woman crediting her behind for her success is not an act of feminism. I'm not sure what it is, but it's not feminism. Women bearing their breasts as an act of liberation from society is also not feminism. I get the point, if men don't wear bras then why should we? Well, because we have breasts. Feminism is about being equal to men, not becoming them. Put your bra back on ladies. 

If you believe that women should be considered socially, intellectually, politically, economically, and culturally equal to men, you are a feminist. If you believe that all people are entitled to equal civil rights with no discrimination, you are a feminist. You don't have to identify as being one, but you hold to feminist beliefs. I just had to let you all know real quick. 

Thanks for reading. 

And if you don't know, now you know. 

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black women in the states can't look good without weave and makeup...

Good morning, my lovely blog readers. I do want to take some time out to thank you all for all of the love and support I have gotten on this blog, and thank you for allowing me to open my mind to you. 

Today, I want to reflect my opinion on this: 

I swear, black women can never win. If we wear weave, we don't appreciate our natural beauty. If we put relaxers in our hair, we're trying to be white. If we go natural, we are nappy-headed and don't take care of ourselves. 

For some reason, the belief is that only black women wear weaves or that only black women get perms. If you believe that, you are sadly mistaken. There are many white women and other races who wear weaves, they just call them extensions. Essentially, they are the same thing, you want to extend the length of your hair or the volume of your hair by adding more hair. And many other races, such as white and Dominicans, get perms. The reasoning may be different than a black woman's reasoning, but nonetheless, we aren't the only race that perms their hair. And of course, black women aren't the only race that wears makeup (duh). 

But what I wonder is, why is it always a black woman wants to be something other than black when she wants to change something about herself? Many black women get perms to make their thick, coarse hair more manageable, not to make it more "white". Many black women get weaves just to add lengths to their normal hair, not because they want to "look white". It bewilders me that when a black woman puts extensions in her hair then she's trying to be white, but when a white woman does it, she's just adding volume or adding inches, nothing more and nothing less. When a white woman perms her hair so that it's curly, no one says "Oh, she's making her hair curly. She's trying to be black." All in all, she's usually just trying to make her hair curly. And with the makeup, all women are somewhat bashed if they wear makeup because men are so much more attracted to the natural look now (or as they say...*rolls eyes*). 

My question is: Black or white or anything in between, why can't a woman want to ENHANCE her natural beauty without giving off the idea that she is unhappy with herself? Why can't a black woman want to feel sexy with her long weave blowing in the wind without someone thinking she's trying to be white? Usually, we are just trying to live our lives and love the way we look. Changing your natural beauty would include a woman going to the plastic surgeon and lifting her cheeks or adding some extra boobage. And to each his own to the woman who go to that length. But if a woman isn't doing that and she's just adding inches to her hair or some eyeliner to her eyes, she's not trying to change who she is, she just wants to enhance who she is. And even if a woman wants to go get some surgical work done, whose place is it to tell her it's wrong? If a woman cannot feel happy with herself after doing everything the natural way and she feels like she must do something surgical, why not? It's not a man's life to live, it's a woman's. I always find it disheartening when a man has everything demeaning to say about how a woman chooses to physically carry herself. If she wears a shirt with too much cleavage or leggings and she has a big behind, she's trying to get attention. Too much makeup? She hates the way she looks, she must be ugly under there. Preferences are fine, but making all decisions based off of physical media standards is stupid. A man wants a woman with big breasts, small waist, big behind, but she can't flaunt it because then she's attention-seeking. But if a man has a nice 6-pack and walks around with his shirt off, it's no problem, right? 

So, Idris Elba, to each his own. I'm sure there are African women who perm their hair and wear makeup. And that shouldn't be wrong if they want to do that or not. What is wrong is you generalizing all African women and all American Black women, saying that we are all some way when we are all different. You are also wrong to comment on what a woman should do to feel good about herself, to feel beautiful. You don't know the standards a woman has to live by people to find them attractive, so if a woman must put on some foundation or weave to make HERSELF feel beautiful, then let her be. That's not a man's place to comment. If that's not what you like, fine. Move on. But don't try to chop every woman down at the knees because she isn't what you like. You do you, and let women do them. 

P.S.

I'm sure women do some generalizing towards men as well, but I was speaking from a woman's point of view. Men, please don't be upset. Just try to understand where I'm coming from. 

We are all beautiful. 

Black women in the states can't look good without weave and makeup...hmmm. Oh really? Is that so?

Try again. 

misery loves company.

I would like to inform my blog readers on something that happened to me yesterday, just to show you how the world is, even after how far we've come. 

Yesterday, at around 8pm, me and my boyfriend were walking into a Dollar Tree to grab some supplies. In front of the Dollar Tree, an African-American woman, sitting on the ledge of the Dollar Tree window, is talking on her phone. As me and my boyfriend walk past, the woman says in an intentionally audible tone, "And here go this black bitch tryna be white." I turned around to check if she was referring to me because I was the only girl in her vicinity. She then put her hands in the air and said, "Yeah bitch, I said it. Come outside. Come see me, bitch!" I tried to control my anger and continued to walk ahead, but my boyfriend could not handle someone disrespecting me and walked outside to talk to the woman. As I walked outside after him, she constantly referred to him as "white boy" and continued to make threats toward his and my life, saying things like "I can make one phone call and make you disappear." After my boyfriend called her a 'crackheaded bitch' a few times (she did look like a crackhead, not saying he was right to do this), a man claiming to be her brother comes outside and tells my boyfriend not to call his sister a bitch. My boyfriend defends me and says, "Well, she shouldn't have called my woman a bitch." As the men are having their conversation, the woman is trying to talk to me, saying "I don't even know you" over and over. I then ask her, "If you don't know me, why talk shit about me"? She then proceeds to tell me to go suck my boyfriend's dick...cool. So I let it go, my boyfriend and the other guy agree that calling the woman a bitch wasn't right, and my boyfriend and I walk back into the store. 

I am still pretty pissed about the racial remark made toward me, and as I walk I to the store I am still fuming. The man claiming to be the woman's brother is still talking shit, and says quite loudly, "if he had called her a bitch again, I would have beat his ass (referring to my boyfriend)." Matt (my boyfriend) turned around and said "oh really?" and two men came storming toward us ready for a fight. I told Matt no constantly, and he unwillingly listened, putting a cart in front of us to block us from the men. Then, right before the two men went to walk away, one of them said, "if anything, call that half-breed bitch of yours a bitch." At this point, Matt and I both were fed up and as I tried to storm out of the store, Matt was behind me yelling at the gentlemen, telling them to not disrespect me. I repeatedly said, "Me being mixed is obviously a problem here, we need to go" and finally Matt listened. As we are leaving the store, we are still being threatened by the man, who is shouting racial slurs at both of us. We drive off...

I have never felt so angry and hurt and disrespected in my life. I was called a bitch more than three times by three black people in a primarily black area because of my light skin and because I am dating a white man. More than 3 men in the Dollar Tree were willing to fight Matt just because he was white. No one saw anything wrong with the racist slurs toward either of us. No one saw anything wrong with the fact that we did not provoke any of this by doing anything but existing. The fact that these people saw such a problem in my genes as well as my boyfriend's genes, and saw such a problem in the fact that a black girl and a white guy are happy together disgusts me. And the fact that there are so many more people who see interracial couples in this demeaning manner but aren't as ignorant to express it disgusts me as well. We want to blame police for shooting our black men and demeaning our black men, when our black women constantly hurt and disrespect their own black women. And then they have the nerve to get mad when they see a black woman with a white man. I love my man, white, black, purple, green. And that's how the world should see it--two people being together because they love each other. But no, I'm referred to dog-like terminology like half-breed and bitch because I have light skin and a white man. We complain so much about white people being so racist towards us when we are even more racist toward ourselves. A white person has never went out of their way to make me feel bad about the color of my skin or who I'm dating. Ever. Let's reflect on that a little. 

I just wanted you to see how much the world HASNT changed. We still have so much to work on. It's 2014, years after slavery has been abolished. Years after schools and jobs and communities have been integrated. Even years after having our first black president. And black people still look down at other black people for their skin complexions. Black people still see it their business to comment on who a black person can love. It's disgusting and perverted and cruel and imbecilic. I used to cringe at the thought that, if me and Matt have children, that this is what they will have to put up with. Being half white and half black, I used to fear that they won't fit in anywhere. That everyone will see them as different. But I don't fear that anymore. Because each and every person on this planet is different. I will raise them to have tough skin. They will be able to take and dish the bullets, and, when it gets too hard, Mommy and Daddy will shield them and protect them. Our world is still so divided, even within a single race. I only wish it wasn't like this....

How much for that?

What's the cost of getting recognition these days?

I'm a social network guru, if I do say so myself. And the more I scroll down my timelines, the more I see ass shaking, baring skin, the want for a myriad of tattoos, and women in LA. And many young adult women like myself feel like that's the only way to become recognized. What's a girl to do? Maybe I should dye my hair some crazy outrageous purple. Or maybe I should get tattoos from neck to toe. Perhaps piercings in every bodily orphace possible? Maybe if I shake my ass, bounce my ass in a split on Vine? And hell, if I'm all of that and I'm in LA, I've got it in the bag, right? 

This is what we have to aspire to! No woman is getting recognized for being brilliant or ambitious or dedicated or even beautiful. Maybe I should be a video vixen and dance in a thong. Or have sex with someone famous? I'm not sure how we expect our young girls to grow up with a good head on their shoulders if the only people they look up to have their heads on the floor with their leg on the countertop. 

We need to change this. Life is not all about the nearest man turning around to watch you walk away or getting the most likes on Instagram. For what cost do our women have to sell themselves to be noticed? Our young doctors and teachers and women who will be changing our world get a pat on the back, a "hey keep it up". I'm not downing anyone for the way they made it to the top. More power to ya. But it's a growing trend, girls selling their self-respect for money and what they think is power. No, shaking your behind for likes is not power. It's weak. It's showing that's that's all you believe you're worth. My mom always used to tell me, "Baby, you're beautiful, but use your head for more than a hat rack." Don't aspire to be just a pretty face with the latest designer clothes. A nice piece of china isn't much if it's not in a nicer cupboard. Designer with no brain is useless. Strive to be your internal best, and the external best will come. Don't submit to society telling you that you have to be super skinny or you must bare your skin to model. Don't listen to them when they tell you that you don't have enough clout because you don't have enough followers. Don't listen to them when they tell you as long as you have a big butt and a nice rack then you'll make it. Don't listen to them. You're more than the media, baby. Let your mind grow first, then the beauty will reflect itself. The success will come. Stay dedicated. 

"You sound so white."

Trust me. I've heard it more times than I can count, and I'm positive I'm not alone. I'm black, but black people are constantly telling me how white I act because I listen to rock music, or how white I sound when I speak. And let me tell you...

It is one of the most ignorant and annoying things I have ever heard. 

I was raised in a private school setting, minus going to public school for three years. Even beside that fact, my mother also always taught me to speak clearly. Pronounce my words. Enunciate my letters. Don't sound like a mushmouth. Have an extensive vocabulary. Have the ability to talk in languages other than slang. She always told me that that is the way to obtain a successful career. Plus, she worked 12-18 hour days so that I can have the best education, so it is only right that I speak as though I've at least sat in a classroom before. 

But I find it disturbing and quite sad that a black person can only 'sound black' if they sound dim-witted, uneducated, and ignorant. A black person can only 'sound black' if we say the word 'ain't' in normal conversation, or if we take out a few letters or syllables in words. A black person can only 'sound black' if they sound stupid. And that is from the eyes of a black person. You don't usually hear white people tell a black person that they 'sound white' when they speak eloquently. It is usually only us that degrade ourselves. 

We live in the mixing pot of the world: the United States of America. And day by day, we see our children acting and sounding imbecilic to look 'cool'. Failing in school, setting themselves on fire, doing that stupid cinnamon challenge (I've never understood that--cinnamon is a spice...). Looking like a fool is a growing epidemic, and it is the sole reason why we are not progressing at the rate that we want to be. Speaking intelligently should be something you strive to do. Listening to more than just rap and hip-hop should be something you strive to do (or at least give it a chance). We say that we don't like stereotypes but continue to act so stereotypical. You should aim to be cultured, to be knowledgable. You should yearn to learn so much that no one can tell you anything, and then, learn more. One thing my mother always told me was that there is one thing that no one can ever take from you: your knowledge. 

Because I am knowledgable, I am powerful. Don't you dare tell me that I sound white. I sound like the roaring of the resounding seas demanding to be heard. I am an educated black woman, and I act and sound like one. 

-Kendra 

21.

Tomorrow I am turning 21. A full on, completely legal adult. Yay, I can buy my own alcohol! But that's really it. I don't feel any different. I'm not acting any different. Personally, I am not in the place I wanted to be when I turned 21. And for a few days, I have been dwelling on that fact. I haven't graduated from college yet, I don't have the greatest job, and I don't even have my license yet (don't make fun of me). But, I must say, I'm farther than I was last year. I have a higher GPA, more career opportunities, a great boyfriend, and even more supportive people around me. I notice my mistakes, and I don't regret making them because I am headstrong and more determined because of them. But I can't help to think: what could I have done better? What advice can I give to people who aren't yet 21 so that they don't make the same mistakes I have made? Well, here they are:

1. Go to community college first. When you are just stepping out of high school and just leaving from under your parents' roof and rules, you are vulnerable. Whether you got plastered throughout high school or not, college is a whole different ball park. High school gives a slight leniency because they want you to get the hell out. In college, they could care less. It is your job to achieve your dreams at this point, not theirs. And being 18, overly excited, and vulnerable, it's very easy to mess up. It's easy to drink all night and live the TV version of college that you saw on American Pie 2. So, my advice is go to community college first. Yeah, you may be upset that you have to live another two years with your parents, but you will have an associates' degree, a lot of credits to transfer, and your head will be on a little straighter than the clumsy-brained freshmen that walk onto college campuses looking for the nearest bottle of Burnetts (ew). 

2. Significant other is exactly that. Being so young, of course you're going to want to experience certain things like a drunken one-night stand, falling in love, or being so freshly single from your long, drawn-out high school relationship that you are happy that you can screw up (no pun intended). And it is completely okay to want to do these things. And, not to sound like Mommy Dear or anything, but my only advice to you is don't lose yourself. I have seen many men and women lose parts of themselves inside of scandalous college sexual relation every weekend, and I have also seen men and women lose themselves because they are so deeply infatuated with their new boyfriend/girlfriend that they cast all of their dreams and hard work aside and forget what they have made it so far for. You are young. Experience life while you don't have all of the responsibilities. And by life, I don't mean experiencing every nearby penis or vagina. I mean, do community service. Volunteer. Get an internship. Join a club or make a club. Play a sport. Do movie night with your girls or game night with your guys. Pledge a sorority/fraternity. Experience college (and if you aren't planning on going to college) experience life in your young age. Take life by the horns and run with it because these are the golden years. Take advantage of your opportunities. Do you really want to just be able to tell your kids, "oh yeah, I had lots of alcohol and sex in college...that's about it"? Significant other is exactly that, other. Not husband, not whole entire life wrapped inside a person. Other. Your life should not be revolved around this person, nor should your sole happiness be based on this person. Make sure you are happy and the SO should be happy as well BEFORE you guys start anything serious. You should not make each other happy, but happier. Build each other. Complement each other. Support each other. Believe in each other. And everything else will come from there. 

3. Get a job. Seriously. You are not a senior in high school anymore. If you do not already have a job, go get one. I did not make this mistake, but I am still giving this advice because I have seen this mistake made numerous times. Your mother and father are not obliged to look after you anymore. I'm sure they will, but you have to show some initiative. Do you really want to be 20 years old still asking your mom for money to go to the movies? I'm sure you want to feel adult when you leave high school, so you have to act adult too, and adults don't just depend on Mommy and Daddy for everything. Get out there and grind. Whether you're working at McDonalds or at the nearest firm as an intern, WORK. Hard work always pays off. 

4. Don't let your living space become uncontrollably messy. Every young adult has this problem, unless you are OCD or an absolute beat freak, which is okay--no judgment here. But speaking for myself, this happened to me soooooo often (and still does). When you are so wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of classes, extracurriculars, friends, making dining hours, studying, doing homework, and finding time to watch the newest episode of Teen Wolf, it's hard to manage a clean room. And if you're not on a college campus, if you're in community college or just working, even the hustle and bustle of work and perhaps class and making time for friends and extracurriculars can be hassling. So your room can either be cluttered with some clothes on the floor or it can look like that line in Frank Ocean's song Thinking Bout You "a tornado flew around the room before you came." And that has been me more times than one. So, advice is to clean your room every Friday before you go out so that throughout the week, you aren't even more stressed than you already are because the room is messy-- it will be cleaned Friday. And you have to stick to it, the cleaning Friday part. Because, trust me, once you miss one Friday, it's all downhill from there. A messy room provokes a messy brain, and causes more somewhat depression and stress after a long day. So just clean on Friday if it gets too messy, and try to tidy up throughout the week. 

5. Don't pig out. Work out. I get it. You worked a double shift and you just want some Five Guys. Or maybe you have two exams and you need some Sour Patch Kids and three cans of Starbucks' Double Shot espresso. Or maybe you're super drunk and you want to eat three packs of Ramen (I call it oodles n noodles). Slip ups happen, we all like to get a little greasy sometimes. But what you don't want to do is continue this routine every day. Cafeteria food in itself is not very healthy in college, and to top it all off, you're surrounded by pizza places and diners and Chinese food and all the things that don't taste like the crappy caf food. If you pig out, you need to work out. Even if you don't pig out, work out. The Freshman 15 didn't happen to me until my junior year, but it happened nonetheless. Stress causes weight gain, as well as not getting enough sleep. Sounds like young adulthood right? Getting hammered, eating greasy food, getting four hours of sleep, and doing this all weekend until you realize you have a paper due Monday. Stress, lack of sleep, pigging out. If you work out, you can relieve stress, you will get a wonderful night's rest from the workout, and you worked off the piggy. Shit happens, just make sure you clean it up. 

6. Find three hobbies. I actually saw this on a website called Daily Zen List while I was on Stumbleupon the other day and I thought it was magnificent. Find three hobbies: one that makes you money, one that keeps you in shape, and one that unlocks your creativity. This is great advice. In this way, you can be well-balanced in the ways of art, the ways of fitness, and the ways of entrepreneurship and finance. In times of stress, you can relate to any or all of these hobbies to release your mind. And if they all have benefits, then why not? You can enhance a talent, enhance your finances, and enhance your body muscle. Sounds like a plan to me. 

If I had done all of this, I would be closer to graduating, I'd have a banging body, I wouldn't be so stressed all the time, and I would probably have more money. But I'm working towards it and I won't quit. I won't ever be content if I know I can achieve more. I guess that's my last piece of advice. Never be okay with where you are. Always try to progress. Always be hungry. If you work hard, you can have whatever you desire. Have a hungry mind and a motivated body and the rest will come. 

Happy 21st to me!

-Kendra

the meaning behind the name.

I have been promoting my blog on different social media sites like Instagram and Twitter, hoping people would read and understand what I've had to say. Thankfully, they have. One of my friends have requested a topic that I think is quite unique, so I decided to expand on it. 

Q: Your name on Instagram is flawlesshysteria and your blog name is divine-delirium. Since they are so closely related, what do those names mean to you on a personal level?

I have always been told that I was pretty or beautiful or stunning, etc etc. Even when I was much younger, people would stop my mother and compliment her on how beautiful I was, and I would just smile and accept. All of these compliments would make someone cocky, supposedly, or narcissistic. Not me. I have always been humbled when someone calls me beautiful because I believe that beauty is more than just a pretty face. Beauty is having the ability to make heads turn from your confidence and style and poise and glowing personality. Beauty is hard work and perseverance and patience. Beauty is ambition put into action. Beauty is being comfortable in your natural skin and being okay with the world seeing you just as you are. Beauty is being you and fully you, not altering a thing for a soul. Beauty is when you walk into a room and people don't just notice your physical presence, but also feel your enigmatic aura around them. And maybe when people have called me beautiful, they didn't mean to go that deep. But that's how I see it, and that is how I take the compliment every time. 

There are many words associated with the word beautiful, like pulchritudinous, flawless, stunning, capturing, divine. I chose the word flawless because although I am flawed, I recognize, accept, and flaunt my flaws, therefore making me flawless. I chose the word divine because the thoughts that come from my mind are synonymous to how I feel as a person--nothing less than divine. Not perfect, but perfectly tainted--divine. 

I know a lot of people, and people who have associated with me know that I am wild and crazy. And by that I don't mean standing on tables and doing the Coyote Ugly (not saying I wouldn't either haha). I mean I am never afraid to be my weird, awkward, goofy, outgoing self, no matter who is around or who is watching. I don't live for others, I live for myself. So you best believe that I will act as myself and show my true colors to everyone who encounters me. When I was younger, I was teased and taunted. Not only because I had a slight unibrow and a shadow of a stache, but also because I was so quirky. I made weird faces and weird noises and I wasn't like everyone else. And we all know that when people don't understand something, they make fun of it. That was me, the one no one understood. And after trying to cover up that side of me and trying to be "normal" for pretty much all of middle school and a little piece of high school, I decided that there's no such thing as normal, and if there is, I don't want to be it if that mean I'm not being myself. So I embrace any time someone calls me weird or crazy or goofy because that's exactly what I am and I am happy to be who I am. That is the reason why I chose the words hysteria and delirium, because they are better words for crazy. 

So all in all, flawlesshysteria and divine-delirium define me in two short words. I am crazy and beautiful, and I love me that way. 

N.

"Stupid head!" "Butt face!" "Ugly!" "Yo momma!" 

I was taunted as a kid. I had a little excess facial hair, and I was taller than any boy I encountered (plus, I was a tad awkward). Kids called me all kinda of names: a man, she-woman, jolly green giant, bearded lady (I didn't have a beard), among a slew of other names. But now puberty has done me well. I'm beautiful and smart and still awkward and people love me, and though I will never forget the kids who called me these names, I have bigger and better things to worry about than dwell on the past...which leads me to this story. 

On April 4, 2014 I was a contestant in the Alpha Phi Alpha Miss Black and Gold District Pageant. In this pageant, there was a "question round". What that means is that each woman is asked a question, in which she doesn't know the context, and the woman must answer in the most poised and educated way possible. 

We all received the same question: do you feel that the use of the n-word is a problem in our society?

I had not known how the other ladies answered, because we were led into different rooms so we wouldn't hear the question or answer of the lady before us. 

I walked on stage elegantly and nervously, wearing a gorgeous gold sequined mermaid gown, and prepared for my question. 

"Do you feel that the use of the n-word is a problem in our society?"

I paused. I wasn't expecting this kind of question, and Lord did I want to win this for my school more than anything at that moment. But as I thought on how to answer the question, and as I reviewed all the faces in front of me, anxiously waiting on my answer, I realized that what I wanted more than this win, was to be honest with everyone who came to support me that day, and to be honest with myself. I answered the question in the most honest way I knew, and I would like to expand on my thought on this topic in this post. 

Like my intro paragraph, I was teased and taunted throughout elementary, middle, and a piece of high school (I started getting my eyebrows done in my sophomore year, so the excess facial hair was no longer an issue). Now, I will be 21 in two weeks. I have a beautiful boyfriend, a cool job, ambitions, a killer smile, and lots of friends who love who I am. I'm not 9 years old anymore, and although those cruel words from those kids hurt me then, I'm not affected by it in the least now. 

The word "nigger" was created by old white racists as a way to make sure black people knew that they were not like everyone else, that they were beneath the rest. Black people were degraded for years by this term, and, when someone is purposely trying to be racist, we still are. 

You'll hear the word "nigger" used by 11-year-old white boys on XBOX Live on Call of Duty. You'll hear the word "nigger" from drunk frat boys who may get in a slight dispute with a nearby black guy who hit on his girlfriend. But black people changed this word to mean something social. We have always been a race to change something negative into a positive, to flip something from cynicism to optimism. We changed "nigger" to "nigga" and used it amongst each other so that others using it on is wouldn't hurt us. And now, it's used in rap songs, as words of endearment among friends. It is no longer seen as a bad thing, and to continue to compare a black kid calling a friend his "nigga" to a white slave master calling his slaves "niggers" is so demeaning. And by demeaning, I mean to contradict our creative and witty attempts to stay strong throughout the racism by changing a racist term to a term of endearment is demeaning. It's just like being called names in elementary. Are you really going to live in the past over some name blacks were called years ago? We can recognize it but we can move past it. We have a black president, and so many other black people have made significant footprints on our society, footprints that are way more significant and should be more important than the word nigga. Society's focus is too much on the negative past more than the positive present. Just let it go, my nigga. Let it go. We have become so much more than a word from years ago, so what's wrong with a "hey man, you my nigga" every now and then? Nothing. It's so small compared to everything else black people have accomplished. Let us have what we created to relate to each other! What harm is it doing? None. So just get over it! No harm done. 

Nigga nigga nigga. 

life of a college student

Two days ago, I received an email from the college I attend, Frostburg State, saying that they have withdrawn me from the university because of my inability to pay the rest of my bill for the spring semester.

If anything, I was hurt. Baffled. Pissed. Disappointed.

And not disappointed in Frostburg. No, not at all. They are just doing business by all means necessary and I understand that. More disappointed in the way my life has decided to pan out. Disappointed in the cards I was dealt and the way I have played them. I guess my poker face hasn't been too phenomenal to say the least, because I have allowed any and every tough obstacle in my life to affect how I played my cards, and I have ultimately failed myself in the process.

I have spent my whole life as a dependent of my mother, who has always worked her ass off to make sure that I attain the best education, clothes on my back, food on my plate. It has always just been me and my mom against the world, a two-woman team facing a world full of wolves. I always felt sorry for the wolves...

But now, I am under the impression that the wolves won this hand. The wolves chewed me up and spat me out and left me and my mother helpless and defenseless. I'll be 21 in three weeks, I still work as a sales associate at Urban Outfitters, I don't have my degree yet (not super close, either), and I feel as though I am incapable of taking care of myself as a grown woman. And that sucks tremendously because this whole time I'm sitting here thinking I had the perfect plan, paved the yellow brick road for myself and I thought I followed it to a tee. I thought I had it in the bag, that I was surpassing so many others my age and that I was doing well.

My mother said that she would pay for college during my senior year of high school. I have transferred schools three times for various reasons, but I was determined to stay at Frostburg and bang out these last few months and get my degree. I made Dean's List for Spring 2014 and I worked my ass off--I hardly partied, never hung out with my friends, fully dedicated myself to my studies.
And, for all of this hard work, I can't continue my college education for monetary reasons. And I realize then that I'm not so different.

Yes, I'm brilliant. I'm beautiful. I'm spunky and determined. But there are many others just like me who are staggered by the lack of help from the government to pay for school. I received no financial aid for this past year because "my mother makes too much money", even as a single mom who lives paycheck to paycheck because she pays for my schooling. There are so many others just like me who don't have enough credentials to get a well-paying job to help pay for school significantly, but work two to three jobs, driving themselves up two walls and down two more, to pay for 12 credits. The cards we are dealt at this point are not fairly dealt to us. We are chained to a chair and thrown cards and are not given a choice on how to play them because the government never gave us a proper choice. Either be rich or commit mental and emotional suicide every semester in hopes of finding finances for college. That's what happens to us. We are the lambs, and they are the wolves. And they deal the hands and play them, too. We are a generation that has so much talent and determination and intelligence and perseverance and diligence, all trapped in bodies and minds that have no way to pay for a college education. We are forced to cry out for help and, most of the time, our cries are answered by a fat tuition bill and a lifetime of student loan paybacks. We are a generation that is forced to feel helpless when all we need is a chance. All we need is an open window of opportunity and we will climb through it, even if we cut ourselves on the broken glass. We may be helpless, but we are determined.

I can do so many things with the cards I have been dealt. I can be a model, an actress, a screenwriter, a journalist, an editor...all I need is the chance.

New Life.

Hey guys!

So, my best friend Jackie would be so so so so proud of me for blogging, but I'm honestly going to try to blog more so I can work on my writing skills, since I have declared myself a Mass Communications major with a minor in Journalism.

I have recently started a new life at my new university named Frostburg State University. It's in a chilly part of...umm...I think western Maryland, ya know, the part of Maryland with the mountains and bears and snow. I love it here! Although not everyone is friendly, for the most part people say hi when they walk past you and they hold doors open when you're behind them, so I think that's good. I like my roommate a lot. Her name is Deva (pronounced diva) and her birthday is 2 days after mine. She's super cool and funny, I like her. I take SIX classes, which is quite tiring, but I'll get through it.

I'm in my second semester of what should be my junior year, but because of my disorganization and constant absentmindedness, I am still a sophomore. I am trying my best to become who I want to be, but it's becoming more difficult by the day.

I can't seem to stay focused. I always allow some person, some situation, some disheartening news to affect my journey to my dreams. I allow these things to hinder me, stagger me, and I hate it. Why does that happen, you may ask. It's because I put everyone above myself all the time. I allow people to treat me how the want in fear of me hurting their feelings if I tell them, "Hey, I don't like this" or "Hey, don't do that". I put everyone's wants, needs, and feelings before my own, and it's not okay.

I have realized my happiness is my biggest goal. I deserve to be happy, I deserve the best, and I don't deserve to settle. If I have to settle, then I would rather be alone. And alone doesn't mean lonely, by the way. I came out from the womb alone, I can make it alone.

I am determined to be happy and successful in all of my future endeavors.

Join the ride, bloggers. It's going to be a long one.

--Kdot.

"as long as it's eye-catching, then it doesn't really matter." -Fashion designer/stylist Jackie K. Simeon

What's up, blogging friends? It's K-dawg again, back from the trap, ready to show y'all my thug thizzle.

Just kidding (but I do like the nickname K-dawg lol).

So, this past Sunday July 21st, I gained enough confidence, energy, and cash to take a trip to New York City for the day to audition for The Face, a modeling show hosted and judged by Naomi Campbell, Coco Rocha, and Karolina Kurkova. Getting there was a hassle in itself; it's kinda hard to muster up $120 in a day, but I was determined to give this my best shot. I had auditioned for America's Next Top Model before, and it didn't go so well (the judge was so wrapped up in her conversation that she couldn't tell me when to start talking for the recording) so I had to try my talent once again.

I wake up at 4:00am, get to Union Station in Washington, D.C. at around 4:30, bought some McDonalds breakfast (probably not the best model breakfast) and boarded my 5:25am train to New York.

I arrive at Penn Station in NYC at 8:30am. I'm bumbling with excitement. "What will they think of me?" "How is my walk?" "Let me practice my face." All of these thoughts running through my head as I walk to West 26th Street to Chelsea Studios. Here's some pictures from my walk!

I arrive to Chelsea Studios at 9:45am, and go upstairs to register. They send us back downstairs, and me and a slew of other girls were standing in line in the heat for over 3 hours to get inside. But it was all worth it, every minute of this experience. Meeting new girls much like me who are just coming here for a chance at a new life, meeting season 1 winner Deyvn Abdullah, and just being in New York in general just felt so uplifting compared to the life I've been living this summer (just boring, boring, and more boring).

Finally, I was thrown into a line of 10 other girls in a dance studio-looking room. The judge told us all to state our name, where we were from, and why we should be chosen as "The Face". I gave it my best shot, with all the spunk and spice in my veins. I wasn't chosen, but I appreciated the experience.

Maybe next time.