Category: Dark Skin

Love in My Heart and a Sword in my Right Hand!

On By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, African King, Afros, Black Panther, Buffalo Soldiers, Candace of Meroe, Cathay Williams, Caucasian, Christian, Christianity, Colour of Beauty, Dark Skin, Eartha Kitt, Edward G. Palmer, Edward Gordon Palmer, Edward Palmer, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ethiopian Goddess, Eva Gordon Palmer, Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Hair, Hair Texture, Hattie Banks, Hattie Finney Banks, Helen Garcia, Helen James, Mable Palmer, Malcom X, Natural hair, Nzinga Mbande, Nzingha, Queen Seshat Egyptian Goddess of Scribes, Queen Tiye, W.E.B. Du Bois

Nzingha African Warrior Queen
Nzingha African Warrior Queen & Priestess

Warning!  This Post is Not PC. If you get easily offended stop reading now. Contains Brutal Language.

Judges 4-5 New International Version (NIV)

”

4 Now Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth, was leading[a] Israel at that time. 5 She held court under the Palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim, and the Israelites went up to her to have their disputes decided. 6 She sent for Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali and said to him, “The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you: ‘Go, take with you ten thousand men of Naphtali and Zebulun and lead them up to Mount Tabor. 7 I will lead Sisera, the commander of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his troops to the Kishon River and give him into your hands.’”

8 Barak said to her, “If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go.”

9 “Certainly I will go with you,” said Deborah. “But because of the course you are taking, the honor will not be yours, for the Lord will deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman.” So Deborah went with Barak to Kedesh. 10 There Barak summoned Zebulun and Naphtali, and ten thousand men went up under his command. Deborah also went up with him.”

Matthew 11:12 King James Version (KJV)

12 And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.

 

DeBorah The African Warrior Queen

I come with Words of Peace and Praise of Thanksgiving upon my lips

Along with a Sword in my right hand.

Third Eye Opened in the midst of a Changing Life,

I refuse to play the victim any longer!

Pale riders your rule has come to an end. StepandFetchIt and Mammy are long gone. Ethiopia and Nubia Rule once more.

I will defend my Queendom unto death for there be more with me than against me.

Though I be petite in frame, know this my enemies, Don’t sleep on the size!

Victory is mine.

All bullies shall feel sharp cold steel against their necks.

Negotiation has come to an end! This time all abusers shall be repaid 100 fold for their unholy acts.

Never again shall my precious temple of mind and body suffer desecration!

Arise My SiStars!! Arise My Warrior Queens!!

The Thieves shall be banished from my Holy Temple!

Ready for Battle!

Prince ~~ Thieves in the Temple

 

Matthew 21:12-13 New King James Version (NKJV)

Jesus Cleanses the Temple

12 Then Jesus went into the temple of God[a] and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. 13 And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’[b] but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’”

 

Post Script ~~ Dear Folks of the Caucasian Persuasion.  Do Not Touch my Hair. This is not a petting zoo.  Do not ask me stupid questions like, “Do you comb your hair?” Do Not compare my braids, locs or cornrows to Medusa and I won’t say anything about your wrinkles, age spots or your open audacity and stupidity to think you can come up to any random Black person that you don’t know and just spew the first idiotic thing that issues forth from that pie hole in the middle of your face. And No you Do Not have the right to become offended if I call you out on your arrogance and foolishness.  Keep your ignorant racist sexist dumb words and attitude to yourself! Don’t get it Twisted.  Mammy and StepAndFetchIt are long gone.  In fact do me a favor. Shut the Fuck Up and stop commenting on my appearance!  Don’t Fuck with the African Goddess! I am a Proud Uppity Black Woman with Attitude. Don’t you forget it.

 

 

Obsidian Ebony Sioux Blackfoot Visions with a Dollop of Cream

On By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, Afro Sheen, Afros, America, Ancestor, Ancestry, Black Orpheus, Brillo, Colour of Beauty, Dark Skin, DeBorah, Family History, Family Tree, Gifted & Black, Goddess, Jerome, Jerry, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Lupita Nyong'o, Natural hair, Songs of Solomon & Sheba, Tar Baby, West Virginia

Black in America ~ Kujichagulia — Self–Determination

Obsidian Ebony Sioux Blackfoot Visions

 

Stephen and I in December 1961.
Stephen and I in December 1961.

My family ranges from pale white with blue eyes to Darkest Black. However I really had no idea of my Rainbow family until Aunts passed away and then when my father died in 1995.  Then I was confronted with somebody who had white skin and blue eyes saying that they were my cousins.  I always knew my Paternal Grandfather had been married twice but it was then that I realized his first wife must have been white.  That was probably the real reason he left Petersburg, VA and moved to New York during the early 1900s…
As a child during the 1960s, I remember being called Tar Baby.  I remember my mother who was light-skinned but who suffered under Jim Crow in Dayton, Ohio saying, “If You’re white you’re alright. If your Brown stick around. If you’re Black Get Back!”  Every day on the playground of a Black school Black kids would taunt me. Tar Baby! African! Monkey!  I came home crying every day.  My Dad who was Dark-Skinned always told me, “The Blacker the Berry the Sweeter the Juice. If the berry’s too light it has no use.”  That would give me comfort.

Defiant DeBorah
Defiant precocious DeBorah

However it took decades before I was comfortable in my Black skin.   But the pigeon holing by the Black Community, My Community was very evident in the 60s and 70s when I was coming of age.  I don’t have what many Black people define as African features. Whatever that means.  From a child even until now Black people, white people and other Peoples of Color will ask me if I’m part Native American. The answer to that question is Yes but if they looked closely at the African continent they’d find Black people with all manner of varied facial features. But nobody does. They just assume.

High School Graduation 1977

My Speech. My Dad taught me to speak what he called “The King’s English.”  Slang was not allowed in our home.  As a result Black people say I sound like I’m white or that I speak proper.  Excuse me but aren’t we all supposed to speak English instead of Ebonics?!  White people say I’m very articulate (unsaid ~ “for a Black person)  It’s a No Win situation.

First Dance with My Father
First Dance with My Father

The kinky nappy hair did not help. I was called Brillo pad. There was the evil straightening comb with Dixie Peach and Ultra Sheen (hair grease). My Mom telling me to bend my head so she could get to my “Kitchen.”  My hair was so thick, teeth broke out of combs my mother attempted on my Kinapps.  Then came 1972 when my Dad decided that I was going to get an Afro. Watu Wasuri Use Afro Sheen.  Then I was Beautiful.  Angela Davis Black Panther Party Soul Train Beautiful.  In the 80s I surrendered to Jheri Curl Juice.  Since then I’ve been pig-tailed, relaxed, braided, loc’ed and now with my not so thick Menopausal hair I’ve returned home to my Afro. Not as Fierce. Somewhat wiry and thanks to L’Oreal always colored various shades of red.

The new stigma for me now, Ageism. Being a Black Woman over 50 who thanks to that once hated Dark Skin now is grateful because Black Don’t Crack!

 

Me in 1961
1961- A Very Good Year
Me at around age five or six
Little Me
African/Native American Queen
MMC 2002 Graduation
Victory Salute at Seven Bell Fitness Gym
Victory Salute at Seven Bell Fitness Gym

In Praise of Darker Hues

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Acceptance, African American Queen, African Goddess, Brillo, Colorstruck, Colour of Beauty, Damaged Goods, Dark Skin, DeBorah, deception, Deliverance, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Hair, Hair Texture, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Lupita Nyong'o, Natural hair, Negritude, Rejection, Spirituality, Tar Baby, Weaves5 Comments

Lupita Nyong'o
Lupita Nyong’o

I’m very glad that Lupita Nyong’o was voted World’s Most Beautiful Woman! So proud to see a Dark Skinned Sister Honored in this Fashion.

I read her Oscar Acceptance speech reprinted in Essence Magazine. It certainly resonated with me. Even though I’m 25 years older than her and was raised in New York City I can still hear the taunts of “Tar Baby”, monkey, Black African (Black was not Beautiful in the 1960s) from my school-mates on the playground. Watu Wasuri Use Afro Sheen came much later in late 1970s. Still light skin was in. There was a saying I heard many times growing up, “If you’re light, you’re alright. If you’re brown still around. If you’re black get back.” From straightening combs to weaves the Self-hatred becomes internalized.

Weaves looking like Davy Crockett hats perched atop uneasy heads marching LocKstep with conformity. Multi-hued raccoons skipping across Jungle Fever Brows missing nesting material in which to snuggle Eurocentric brainwashing.

Even when I went into the U.S. Army my always thick, kinky and Knappy was called a Brillo pad. I was always made to feel so ugly usually by my own Black people. I expected whites to call me the “N” Word after all this was the 1960s and my parents who knew Jim Crow by heart prepared me for rejection as a Black girl in a white dominated society. In a way I was very surprised to hear that in a Black dominated/ruled society/country such as Kenya young Lupita experienced similar taunts, jibes and insults.

Many times I would come home from school crying. I hated my skin color and my hair texture. My father tried to soothe my broken spirit and build my self confidence by telling me, “The Blacker the Berry the sweeter the juice. If the berry’s too light it has no use.” I did feel better for a while but it was not until I was well past age 40 that I began to really appreciate being dark-skinned with coarse thick hair. For one thing now that I’m well past 50 all this wonderful melanin truly means, “Black Don’t Crack”. As for my hair menopause has removed the thick & coarse texture but I’m proud to wear my hair natural since age 36.  Over the years there were times when I battled a Eurocentric mindset but as I journey through middle-age and beyond I embrace and am one with my African heritage.

Yes Ladies, “Say it Loud! I’m Black and I’m Proud!”

I Am Not a Stereotype

On By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Abuse, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, Barbie doll, Carnal, Colorstruck, Colour of Beauty, Craving, Dark Skin, Erotic, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Sexual Fantasy, Spirituality, Stereotypes, Vanity, Wisdom, Woman, WTF13 Comments

I am not a Stereotype

Stereotypes Hurt.  No More Labels!!

Women of all colors, races, religions ethnic groups and nationalities face double jeopardy.

I will not be defined by the narrow conventions of your mangled mind.

Me and Patti LaBelle got a new attitude.

http://youtu.be/7jHToFiZuSU

I will not be typecast by the slant of my eyes, the color of my skin or country of origin.

I am a Woman of faith of dignity who demands and commands respect.

I refuse to suffer indignities of your racist sexist perversions.

I follow the laws of God as dictated by my belief system whatever it may be.

I am not an exotic playtoy or life size Barbie doll existing only to gratify, satisfy or fulfill your twisted sadistic carnal predilections.

I am not the one and today is not your day.

I will not be afraid and will not back down.

I am not a victim.

I am more than a survivor.

I am defiant.

You do not have license to ill.

My height, weight, shape do not delineate me as a loose woman or a hot number.

I am not your Ethiopian Chocolate Fantasy or submissive Asian delight found in the back covers of men’s magazines.

I am not your Indian Maiden with feathers in her hair or a sari wrapped around her waist.

If I’m a Lesbian nothing between your legs will make me straight and certainly does not impress me.

Whatever fever you got, be it Jungle Fever, Yellow Fever, Red Fever, Hot Spicy Latina Fever, I’m about to throw cold water all over it and knock you out cold. Get over yourself. You’re not all that and a bag of chips.

I choose who, when, where and if I will lay my body down.

I am the Goddess and only the worthy may gain access to the Temple. As Women we are called to maintain order in the Universe. Ladies ~ Realize your calling.

Asshole Repellent
Asshole Repellent

Ladies sexual abuse, workplace bullying and sexual harassment is the Elephant in the Room that everybody sees but fails to acknowledge its presence. Instead we step lightly around him hoping he will go away of his accord. Do not remain silent. Speak up. Speak out.

The Black Woman in Society’s Mirror

On By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, African American Queen, African Goddess, African King, Colour of Beauty, Dark Skin, DeBorah, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Menopause, Mother over Israel, Scars, Spirituality, Tattoos, Visions, Wisdom, Woman4 Comments

The Black Woman in Society’s Mirror

It’s dangerous to be a Black Woman over 40 and seeking that special life partner. You’re an entity of exotica, scorn, repellent to some and desired by others. Both Jezebel and Sapphire. Succubus and Saint. Are we sex monsters or vixens. Or have we become the seductive Sirens of Green mythology dangerous and beautiful femme fatales who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting melody and singing to shipwreck on the rocky coasts of their deserted island.

 Do we aspire to Hatshepsut or the Mata Hari?

 At the demands of a modern sex driven society some of us re-imagine ourselves as the Vixen capable of seducing any man, but is this only a self-imposed illusion that aligns and binds us within men’s’ fantasies?

http://82nd-and-fifth.metmuseum.org/monsters

There are special dating challenges for dark-skinned Black women and Black Women over 50. All women have insecurities about their looks and self-worth. Am I ever good enough? Do I measure up?  Thomas doubted Jesus. We doubt ourselves. In the process we lose some of our dignity. We are raised to compete for a so-called small pool of Black men. Daily images of perfectly shaped buff voluptuous curvy young sisters are thrown in our faces by the media. Women must always be perfect.  Perhaps we are more lumpy than curvy.

We must fit the image society has for us. Even though in this country we have the right to choose a marriage partner, but from youth girls are trained to believe marriage and children are the end-all and be-all of life. We aspire to that. We are misguided. Then as you approach 40 some of us become more desperate because that’s when you fall off men’s radar.

 After age 50 you totally disappear. Relegated to the trash heap of modern antiquities. Relics of a bygone era. Back in the day women like me were called spinsters or Old Maids. Heck there was even a kid’s card game called Old Maid and you didn’t want to get that card! Even though we no longer use those terms they are still in the back of our minds.  So many emotions jockeying for position inside our heads and ingrained in our Psyche. I think it is much worse for Black Women. We become veterans of romantic wars at odds with our uniqueness vs. the Stepford Women of society and media.

And we do know that Beauty misplaced may yield the seeds of misfortune.

 In my 20s I was just coming into my sexuality and my imagined power to get men to do my bidding based on my body. In my 30s I yearned to settled down, not necessarily to have children but to play the role of wife. Such a role was never realized. By 40 with both my parents gone and not wanting to spend the rest of my life alone I entered into a long-term relationship with an abusive man who in small doses of love mixed with pain destroyed my self-confidence, belief in myself and planted seeds of doubt that it took years to root out. Age 48 my abuser left me for a younger woman after years of tearing me down. I was rid of him physically but emotional, physical and sexual abuse had taken its toll.

Emotional scars take longer to heal than physical.  More rapidly than I would have like 50 seized me by the synapses and the emotional roller coaster of Menopause played havoc with my emotions and feelings. I had to throw off the shackles of past abuse and find a new me that I could love. So I re-imagined myself into Storm and Cat Woman. Sounds odd but fictional strong female characters allowed me a safe space to grow into this new phase of womanhood. Now at age 54 I can truly say I’m about 95% at peace with myself and for the most part I enjoy the pleasure of my own company. Perhaps one day I’ll dip once more into the dating pool but today it’s all about me. Me being a Unicorn.

Eye of the Beholder

http://youtu.be/xHp9q3QTmVQ

Masks for the Masquerade

http://youtu.be/VOdF7UCf1VQ

Be Original. Be Yourself.

Being me.
Be Original. Be Yourself.

Ms. Afro Rojo signing off.

Me channeling Cat Woman Halloween 2011
Me channeling Cat Woman Halloween 2011