As my son’s parent it’s my job to see that he gets the best start in life. And! Since I made such a mess of my life by making poor decisions when I was young and netted nothing financially to aid my children when it came to helping them enter into the world as successful adults, then my son’s student loan repayments became mines because his entry into adulthood debt free is my job as his parent.
When Keshia Thomas was 18 years old in 1996, the KKK held a rally in her home town of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Hundreds of protesters turned out to tell the white supremacist organization that they were not welcome in the progressive college town. At one point during the event, a man with a SS tattoo and wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with a Confederate flag ended up on the protesters’ side of the fence and a small group began to chase him. He was quickly knocked to the ground and kicked and hit with placard sticks.
As people began to shout, “Kill the Nazi,” the high school student, fearing that mob mentality had taken over, decided to act. Thomas threw herself on top of one of the men she had come to protest, protecting him from the blows. In discussing her motivation after the event, she stated, “Someone had to step out of the pack and say, ‘this isn’t right’… I knew what it was like to be hurt. The many times that that happened, I wish someone would have stood up for me… violence is violence – nobody deserves to be hurt, especially not for an idea.”
Thomas never heard from the man after that day but months later, a young man came up to her to say thanks, telling her that the man she had protected was his father. For Thomas, learning that he had a son brought even greater significance to her heroic act. As she observed, “For the most part, people who hurt… they come from hurt. It is a cycle. Let’s say they had killed him or hurt him really bad. How does the son feel? Does he carry on the violence?”
Mark Brunner, the student photographer who took this now famous photograph, added that what was so remarkable was who Thomas saved: “She put herself at physical risk to protect someone who, in my opinion, would not have done the same for her. Who does that in this world?”
Keshia’s choice was to affirm what some have lost.
Keshia’s choice was human.
Keshia’s choice was hope.”
Well I learned something new today!
I learned that most black people speak Jive. This coded language that has unified American black people for decades is now called slang. So far Jive remains unrecognized by most as a survival language that is mostly spoken among blacks. The funny thing is Jive is a language that has been passed down from generation to generation despite educational successes within the black community. Yet, society continues to equate this language with ignorance. When in fact Jive is probably the first unity language created in America.
Thou I try to remove the jargon from my vocabulary I must admit it makes me feel whole when I am with other blacks. Honestly, knowing slang/Jive helps me to contact to a group or race of people who are rejected by society. And perhaps that’s why so many young men and women from other races try to learn it.
Maybe the young got it! Maybe they realize Jive is a unity language that connects dislocated people. I’m just sayin’ . . . maybe all young people feel dislocated in some fashion. So to connect they speak slang. Hum . . .
Part of Speech: noun
Sound practical judgment that is independent of specialized knowledge, training, or the like; normal native intelligence.
The other day as I was reading headlines on Facebook I stumbled across a very sad story. The story was about a seven-year old boy named Kalyb Primm Wiley. He had been placed in handcuffs by his schools security. Apparently the little boy had been picked on by his peers. Feed up with the ill-treatment and feeling helpless the little seven-year old boy began to scream. After he began to scream the unskilled teacher called for help to restrain the yelling child. From the sounds of things the adults in charged didn’t try or was unable to rationally communicate with the child during his meltdown; therefore, he was placed in handcuffs until his father arrived.
When his father got to the school and saw his son in handcuffs he could not believe his eyes. Now . . . I’m not saying white students are not mistreated . . . but a large percentage of white parents would have taken pictures of their child’s inhumane condition. Most white parents whether they like their kid or not would have begun building social coffins for social antics they consider inhumane. The photos taken would have been sent to an attorney, the school district superintendent, their state’s governor, their state’s senator, their city/town mayor, every newspaper in this country and all powers that be. And in the end their child would receive a large monetary settlement from the school district for being publicly humiliated. But so often when black students suffer at the hands of those that are in position of trust nothing is ever done.
I’m following this particular story. I want to see how long it takes the school district in Kansas City, MO to change their policy on children and handcuffs. Especially since those that enforce the rules are not commonsensical in character.
I wonder how many people have heard the phrase “do not wear out your welcome.” Hum . . . I first heard the expression from my grandmother when I was young.
Back when I was once a kid, and a know-it-all, it seemed my late maternal grandmother would always say those words to my cousins, my siblings and me. I’m not sure how my family members took her wisdom; but back when I was a child I thought my grandmother was old, uncaring, uneducated, mean-spirited, and truly out of touch with the mental and emotional needs of the young. [chuckle]
I can remember as if it was yesterday sassing her for this or that. But nothing stands out more than the time she would not let me go over to my cousin’s house as often as I wanted. And, sadly, it was late into my adult years before I understood the meaning ‘do not wear out your welcome.’
As I’m looking back on things and reflecting upon how I dismissed her words of caution, I now understand why my life was filled with heartaches.
I hate to admit to myself but I deserved all the bumps I got from being hardheaded; and my self enlightenment really makes me feel foolish about things I had blame on others.
Well, any-who-how . . . It was by divine revelation I found the phrase in the Bible one day. I was shocked! It was amazing to read that God gives his children the same warning!
Seldom set foot in your neighbor’s house– too much of you, and they will hate you. Proverbs 25:17
The message I get from this passage is: don’t be so darn clingy! Get a life! Explore parts of your life without others. Enjoy family when can. And remember a bit of you goes a long ways.
I’m coming to terms with my granny’s wisdom. My grandmother has passed but her words live on. And each day that I live I think about her abrasive and unharness wisdom. I’m learning she was indeed the smartest woman I will ever know and most of all she loved me.
It seems the negative word thug is always used to misrepresent the entire African American, Negro, or black communities. Honestly, people who distort racial integrity by misguiding readers, viewers, and listeners are worse than those they are writing or talking about. Such viewpoints are transparent as they are criminal acts of spreading hate.
As a humanitarian I find hate served on any platform detestable and a waste of time. So, therefore, today my vocabulary word is “thug” because I object to the ignorance of those that use it improperly. And it is such ignorance that keeps hate alive. And in keeping hate alive it becomes an avenue for exploitation by discriminatory acts when negative words are used to describe others by race, age, disability, ethnic, religion, sex, sexual orientation, and etc. Despite the worlds gratifying social exposure of discovering people are people, a pocket of people continue hate cycles for the sake of personal gain.
Part of Speech: noun
- a cruel or vicious ruffian, robber, or murderer.
- (sometimes initial capital letter) one of a former group of professional robbers and murderers in India who strangled their victims.
Last night I watched a History Channel special on the movie series Indiana Jones. The purpose of the show was to separate fact from fiction as it relates to the movie. While watching the show I was introduced to origin of the word “Thug”. When you think of a thug what image comes to mind? Is it a Black or Brown man? Is he iced out with diamonds and wearing baggy pants? Most people think of a thug as living in a poverty stricken urban area ( Ghetto) in the United states. The origin of the word “Thug” couldn’t be farther from its present meaning. The word Thug originates from an 800 year old cult called Thuggee in India. Thuggee were known for befriending travelers and killing them with the ultimate intention of robbing them. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, this cult is responsible for the death of 2 million unsuspecting travelers.
So the question arises, ” How did we get from Thuggee to thug?” The Indian Cult and its practices were popularized and introduced to main stream Western Culture through books such as Confessions of a Thug by Philip Meadows Taylor (1839). Thuggee was also popularized by British Culture as Great Britain Ruled India from 1858 to 1947. In a way it bothers me that such a negative word like thug is largely associated with Blacks when it should be associated with Indians. How is it that we get the bad rap when they’ve been “thuggin” for 800 years! If we’re going to play the name game then we need to call prostitutes Geisha Girls! If there are any words that you can think of that are unfairly associated with your or someone else’s culture, please feel free to comment.