The number of babies born at Yale-New Haven Hospital with HIV has been effectively zero since 1996. But now a new group is battling the disease: people 50 and older.
Nationally known HIV/AIDS advocate Michelle Lopez brought that message to the Betsy Ross Magnet Hall on Kimberly Avenue Thursday evening or the third Elsie Cofield Woman & Girls HIV/AIDS awards event. The event is put on each year by the Infectious Diseases Division of the Cornell Scott Hill Health Center.
The awards event honors people in the Greater New Haven area who have continued to be strong advocates for those with HIV/AIDS even as treatments have gotten better and rates of transmission have been holding steady, particularly among African-American women and girls.
Have you ever been called a “winch” or a “hoe”? I have often heard Black women refer to each other as winches, hoes, and bitches. The terms sound much like a term of endearment, a term which defines their friendship as very close. Black women can, have and will refer to their friends as bitches, but that term can become a “fighting” word when used by the “wrong” person, i.e. someone they dislike. I would think that in the 21st century we would no longer have a need to refer to each other using such derogatory adjectives.
The children in school call each other the same names and does anyone know what a “motherfucker” really is or where the term is derived from? Well, I looked it up and it’s defined as according to Dictionary.com
, “a mean, despicable, or vicious person…” If that be true, then our young men and women are apparently using the term incorrectly. From what I have heard and seen the term is occasionally used to describe a person that has performed some type of farce or something negative. This term is used by both male and females towards each other. Hmm, I wonder of they knew the definition – would they use the term so effortlessly?
While looking through the history of North Carolina’s school system I came across a document titled, “The Beginnings of Public Education in North Carolina; A Documentary History, 1790-1840. Volume I:” and I was shocked to read the following excerpt:
“But the present-day idea that it is the duty of the State to provide education for all, regardless of race or financial condition, is nowhere clearly stated in these documents, except in the memorial of the Friends, sent to the legislature of 1834, wherein they protest against certain repressive slavery laws such as prohibiting slaves and free negroes from preaching and making it a crime to teach a slave to read and to write. This memorial boldly declared “it unnecessary to urge the incontrovertible arguments that might be advanced from reason and Religion, to prove that it is the indispensable duty of the Legislature of a Christian people to enact laws and establish regulations for the literary instruction of every class, within its limits; and that such provisions should be consistent with sound policy, tend to strengthen the hands of Government and promote the peace and harmony of the community at large.” This fine educational statement, far in advance of the times, fell on deaf ears. Some of our so-called wisest men of that day continued to talk about “the education of the poor” and to introduce measures for the education of that class and to propose still harsher measures governing slaves. But Jeremiah Hubbard, or whoever wrote this Friends’ memorial, was the wisest educational prophet of the period, in that he saw clearly the necessity of educating all classes of the people and the futility of making laws to repress the natural instinct of all human beings for more knowledge.”
Meanwhile back at the ranch…
Stumbling upon this next piece (See Below) that speaks to the winch
which was the catalyst for this story along with a news story that ran a few days ago here in Charlotte, NC. The local news aired a story about a group of female students who allegedly beat up an Administrator in the school. The video showed several girls beating on the woman at Harding University High School
. My emotions remained calm – I thought to myself, “If those young ladies only knew the depth of who they were and the value they could leave behind as beautiful black intelligent woman who should want to make a choice to make a difference in their lives and lives of their “increase
” not only would they not
engage in such behavior, but they would have such a humble sense of pride in their walk, talk, and overall characteristic behavior.
“Will of Alexander Dickson,
IN THE NAME OF GOD AMEN, I, Alexander Dickson, of the county of Duplin, being infirm in Body, but of sound and perfect memory, blessed be God, do make and ordain this my last Will and Testament in manner and form following, that is to say,
All landed property to be sold.
IMPRIMIS. My will is, and so I direct, that all my just debts and personal expenses be first paid out of my estate by my Executors hereinafter named. It is my will and desire that all my Lands be sold at Public Auction by my executors, for the highest price that may be got, in the following manner, that is to say, the Manor Plantation containing 300 acres bought of Joseph Dickson, deceased, The 213 acres adjoining the same bought of Austin Beasley, and 4 1-2 acres adjoining that, where the dead tree is, bought of Thomas McGee and 86 acres between his own and Joseph Brays lines, bought of said Bray, containing in the whole 716 1-4 acres, which said parcels of land, as above described, is to be sold all in one lott. Also 150 acres on the West side of Maxwell Swamp on the head of Jimmie’s Branch bought of Abner Huggins, that to be sold in one lott. Also 50 acres on the South side of the head of . . . . . . . . Branch, bought of Robert Dickson, deceased. Also 50 acres adjoining the same, at the East end and joining John McGowan’s line, Patented by myself, the two above mentioned pieces to be sold in one lott. Also 300 acres, or thereabouts, below the cross roads and on both sides of the main road, adjoining and between Gabriel H. James, Robert Dickson and John Hunter’s lines to be sold in one lott, Patented by myself.
Item–I leave and bequeath to my nephew John Dickson (son of my Brother Robert Dickson, of Cumberland County, Blockers Ferry) my young Negro Winch named Amy and her increase to him and his heirs forever.”
Lastly, those of us who know that we know that we know, must present ourselves holy and acceptable in all that we do and with all that we come in contact with. Sure we may make mistakes and find ourselves overwhelmed with emotion when tragedy strikes, but we must continue to press towards the mark of the high calling. We all have a calling that one way or another we must engage in. We must present ourselves as a mother and father to our children, as wives and husbands to our spouses, as teacher and educator to our students, as guardian to the unattended, and as visionaries to the lost.
We must set the standard in all that we do to foster the “inside emotional” growth of our young adults. It would behoove us to no longer answer to names which are not imprinted on our birth certificates…
Took me a long time to love and appreciate my “Brown skin”. Growing up in the projects and finding myself in a predominately “white” high school was not shocking to me or my system. You see I didn’t know I didn’t like my “Brown skin”. As a child I had a “Barbie Doll”, she was thin had long blond hair and pretty little pink lips. Hell I thought that “beautiful”. Needing my hair to be bone straight I wouldn’t use grease because I wanted it to “move” like my “white” cohort members. I vividly and painfully remember coming out of the shower one day singing, “I can’t get off my horse…” with the towel wrapped around my wet hair. I was swinging my head around as if the towel was my hair when all of a sudden to my horror, my brother had snatched that towel off my head and replied to my melody with, “you shouldn’t have never got up there.” He was so “Black” and down with “Pubic Enemy”. He understood what it meant to not have any of his mentors on “postage stamp”.
It was imperative that when engaged in speech I sounded “proper” and used the correct word, tense devoid of anything that would identify me as “Brown”. I prided myself on the feedback I received from “Brown” skinned people who found it so amazing that I sounded, “white”. I even took great joy in watching the reaction of “white” folk that I had the intense pleasure of meeting after talking with the person over the phone. You see I wasn’t as “Black” as my brother and what I though was cute — had some grave undertones that I was not aware of as young “Brown” teenager.
- I suspect it’s okay to teach your child to lie to get ahead;
- Sure NAACP may have some volunteer roles – I’m willing to bet my “Blackness” that they don’t come void of “perks”- like a direct path to a great job.
- I heard a man who wanted to be a woman say the following words. “Don’t let me come out of this dress and whoop your ass.”
- In as much as he proved to me right then and there that he could never really be a woman; a white woman can NEVER be Black;
- Is it me or should the NAACP have performed due diligence in their background checks.
- The NAACP’s principal objective is to ensure the political, educational, social and economic equality of minority group citizens of United States and eliminate race prejudice. The NAACP seeks to remove all barriers of racial discrimination through the democratic processes.
- Suspect behavior – when any “white” person would want to “Black” to this extreme and disrespectful manner, it should be almost a criminal with criminal charges.
- Impersonating a “Black” person in the most egregious manner.
In as much as she claims with all that crap about “behaving” Black one cannot be “Black” because of their hair or the Black boyfriend or a big booty. Blackness is a beautiful thing and you know why? My mother and her mother and her mother had to fight all the way. My father and his father and his father had to fight all the way. Sure I had my own struggles, but I can now feel and appreciate their struggle. I am concerned about folks with cancer, but I can’t shave my head and say I can identify with the pain of a cancer patient. You see our Blackness was stripped, ripped, torn, tattered, spit on, chased by dogs, locked up, hung like wet clothes in the hot sun and in the heat of the night, it was raped, and cheated, our Blackness was laughed at, banned and cursed, our Blackness was baked at 100 degrees for over 400 years.
God has shown us great mercy and grace and yet we continue to neglect Him in our treatment towards each other….
Aside from all that – Baby girl you’ll never be Beautifully Black….