According to America, not all are created equally 

I woke up this morning with a prayer in my heart and rapid thoughts running through my mind
My black People this oppressive society was not made for us
This society was not made to love us

No matter how good we do and who we strive to be, we are always perceived as the public’s enemy.

I fear for my brothers; they go to work everyday, pay their bills on time, pay their taxes and strive to be better each day

But of course when you’re black the world doesn’t see all the good you do, 

When you’re black only negativity and racial stigmas surround you.

When you’re black that’s all people see 

Your skin complexion and not the person you are or strive to be

Truthfully I’m tired and afraid

I fear one day I’ll become yet another helpless and unprotected victim to this mass racial genocide. 

They want us to hide! 

But we won’t 

Black people, my beautiful people.

 We are divided within our own and they see that. They know that no matter how much of us they kill, they won’t get convicted, instead they’ll walk off free. Walk freely as if no harm was done and a human being whose life was valuable became invaluable in a split second. 

They’re killing us based on centuries of normalization to brutalize, terrorize and assassinate “negroes” & “niggers”.

They’ve made a career out of hunting us down and terminating us like innocent, helpless prey. 

Yet, we’re the savages!

I’m so tired of this! I’m scared! I don’t want to live in fear, but just like Eric Garner, Emmett till, trayvon Martin, not one of my fellow black ppl knew their end was near! 

We need help! This is a cry for justice! 

We’re not equal.

My black people don’t believe their lies and hypocrisy 

Please don’t allow them to make Alton Sterling yet another police brutality  account.

 We deserve change

we deserve justice. 

These persecutors need to be punished

I don’t know who else to go to or where to complain. Our voices, our protests, and our poetry are only heard in vain

No one takes us seriously 

No one wants to  feel our pain. 

Scar woman: Facing Life’s battles

“How di right side ah yuh body suh chop up?”
I’ve always found it easier to make a joke out of my own situation or personal  flaws before someone else points it out and tries to ridicule me about it. I can be pretty sensitive about my appearance, although I try my best not to make it too obvious. I’m sure I’m not the only one, after all we are human, and we all possess some level of self consciousness within us. I just try my best to conceal them, some days I’m quite successful at doing so, while others days… not so much. I like people to see that I’m strong and I’m highly aware of all the physical flaws I have, so in order to mentally and emotionally prep my self for the glares, questions, and teasing, I simply beat everyone else to it by making my own comical relief about them. Before the accident, I had a few scars, that weren’t so obvious or bothersome to me because over the years I learned to accept each one. Ever since the accident, I’ve received more than I bargained for.I should be grateful for the scars, it’s either them or death. And honestly a much as I hate the scars I have, I’d choose them over an eternal nap in a 6 foot hole.
My new scars are all in places that I used to admire and show the most appraisal to: my stomach, my right eyebrow, and underneath my right eye. So when this was said of course in reference to the visible and apparent scars on the right side of my body. The scar on my upper right arm, one on my leg, and the newest additions to the scar collection includes the one on my stomach as well as the cut between my right eyebrow.
I often hear jokes or questions like this about my flaws. Honestly, I’m extremely self-conscious about each of my noticeable stitched scars. It’s bad enough I have to see them everyday and live with each one. I can’t really hide them in certain clothes. To be honest  I’ve stopped trying. I no longer see the significance of hiding what I’ve been through. We all have scars, it just so happens that mine are visible and easier to see. No one is perfect, and I will never be.
My scars do not define me. I won’t allow them to change me or hinder me from getting what or where I want. Scars aren’t the most attractive things to look at, but a person has to offer is so much more valuable than their appearance. I hate these scars. But, if it weren’t for them I doubt I would be the person I am today if I hadn’t endured these painful incidents. It sucks having to be the center of jokes, stared at like a wounded pitiful animal, or constantly being questioned.

I am not my scars.

We’re all mortal beings, which means the bodies we are in are only temporary, therefore we are expected to return it when our time is up. Words can be shallow and hurtful, but I believe my soul and personality are worth more, than attractive scar-less flesh. There was a point in my life I allowed fear and opinion of others to prohibit me from wearing any type of clothing that would reveal the slightest bit of my stitched scars. Not anymore.
The reaction I hear about my scars aren’t new or shocking. Those who are brave enough just stare at them, as if I can’t see their eyes beaming at my scar. They ask questions like:
How did that happen?
Does it hurt?
Did it hurt?
How many do you have?

Life happened. At that time it hurt, but no longer does. In total I have 5.

MESSAGE For Scarred Women:
Your wounds may be visible, never allow your wounds to damage your spirit. You are and will be amazing.

Signed with love,
A physically scarred young woman.


(This is a writing piece I composed 9 months ago. Yes, it’s a little dated, but I still felt the need to share my experience of what I saw).

Thursday, January 9th 2014

My visit to the Museum of Modern Arts and Design was something out of the ordinary. I guess it’s due to the fact that I don’t usually choose to visit a Museum as one of my daily activities. The only moments I recall feeling amused by the thought of attending a Museum of any sort was in elementary school and high school. Museums were field trips, which meant: no long school hours, boring teachers, and annoying assignments.

As a NY Native I have never realized how much I can and should take advantage of the numerous free activities and facilities the great big apple has to offer. You would think I’d be knowledgeable, even up to date on all the FREE activities and places.  Unfortunately I’m not.

Well during my winter break, after weeks of lounging around my apartment lazily and inheriting couch potato habits I decided to surf the web for some free activities. I was amazed at the lists of places and days that are free and open to the general public. I browsed web pages excitedly and clicked numerous museum options. Of course I only chose one’s that sparked my interest and the Museum of Modern Arts and Design seemed interesting.

After walking around, going from floor to floor exploring the gallery, I found one particular piece that was disturbing, eerie, strange, frightening, and a little heart stopping. It’s a little unbelievable to even think that one sculpture could conjure so many emotions all at once.

Simonsson’s “Untitled” sculpture had me in awe and I was so curious to find out more.  I carefully analyzed the three white wide- eyed porcelain figures. I silently hoped and thought they would move out of their statuesque pose to ask me why I was staring so hard. This piece was strange but so real!  There were two children, a young boy and girl kneeling with the hands clasped together and a young girl standing before them with a gun behind her back.

It looked as if the children were playing a cruel game of some sort. The two children kneeling before her appeared as if they were begging for their lives. This piece stopped my heart and had me shocked because of how much it resonates with our cruel society. Each and everyday children are bullied, kidnapped, abused, murdered, and raped.  The lack of censorship on social media, vulgar television shows and violent video games are encouraging children to become aggressive.

Simonsson’s “Untitled” piece brought unpleasant images to my mind. I thought of the innocent young children who lost their lives at Sandy hook, mass killing in Columbine, suicide victims, and kids who are bullied and mistreated. Automatically I began seeing the similarities of Rich Tomasello’s “Innocence Lost” exhibit. Although, Tomasello’s work displayed an array (toys, backpacks, and drawings ) of violent influences on children; Simonsson’s  exhibit said it all, in just one sculpture.

21st century trend: No child is safe

Are yearly school massacres becoming a common trend in America?
How can a nation that claims to be so great, not take charge and fulfill their duties of trying to protect their people, especially young ones at that. It sickens me to read about these shootings. In 2012 a mass shooting which occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary school in Newton, Connecticut, tore my hear into pieces. Sandy Hook Elementary is the second largest death toll of school shooting in American history. While the infamous Virginia Tech’s death toll was 32 . This is the highest record of deaths in the American educational system. I’m fed up with these weak gun control laws. How is it that the government can spend their time creating irrelevant laws to restrict some of the most pointless things and totally disregard the improvement of safety.
Students shouldn’t have to fear going to school. When I was a young child attending elementary school, I always felt like I was in a safe environment. So what is happening to the American society now? I mean, come on people (Government officials/law makers) would you like it if your child was exposed to this kind of danger. The lack of empathy and compassion exuded in this country is seriously beginning to piss me off. I know you can’t monitor everyone’s actions, but the government has to start implementing changes. Protective laws must be enforced to ensure child saftety.
U.S School shootings chronological order
Columbine High school (04/20/99)
Deming Middle School (11/19/99)
Theo J. Buell elementary (02/29/00)
Lake Worth Community Middle School (05/26/00)
Santana H.S (03/05/01)
Rocori H.S
Red Lake Senior High school,
Campbell county comprehensive h.s
Orange High School (09/30/06)
Virginia tech (04/16/09)
Northern Illinois University (02/14/08)
Univ. of Central Arkansas (10/26/08)
Chardon H.S (02/27/12)
Sandy hook Elementary (12/14/12)
Santa Monica College (06/07/2013)
Arapahoe H.S (12/13/13)
Reynolds H.S (06/10/14)
Maryville Pilchuck H.S (10/24/14)

Info source:

After discovering this horrific information via internet. I can’t believe the numerous school shootings that occurred during my lifetime. Over the span of 15 years,schools have been the killing ground for assassins. And seem to be getting more dangerous each year. You just don’t know what to expect in schools anymore, anyone can be a target. Throughout this 15 year time period, nearly 20 educational facilities (who knows if there are more) have endured emotional suffering. In some schools victims included students, administrators, faculty members, and/or security guards.
According to records a commonality shared among assassins, following these cruel massacres is suicide. There is a small percentage of shooters who were incarcerated because they wind up taking their own lives as well.
How many more mass shootings and deaths of young children have to continue occurring for the government to protect citizens? How many more lives do we have to witness perishing just for YOU to get the point? No parent wants the responsibility of preparing their child’s funeral.  The string of events are killing me and making me feel like no child is safe. Do we really matter ? I constantly hear the cliche, over rated phrase, ” the children are the future.” How can we be the future if you are just allowing us to be easy death targets? And as much as I want to curse in this post, I won’t. I am just tired and infuriated. When I think of my own nephews I fear the possibility of their exposure to such harmful acts. For God’s sake, show some compassion for people other than YOURSELVES or YOUR OWN family. I don’t get it these phony government officials prepare deceitful speeches in efforts to win us over and gain their support. When in reality they do not live up to their word and fulfill any of their promises. So in the end we lose, while they win.

To hell with the “No child left behind” policy. If this killing trend continues, they should re-name that policy “No child is safe.”

Butterfly Effect: Unexpected and unexplained occurrences

Today, I decided to take on the Butterfly effect challenge posted via The Daily Post. I never really understood the meaning of the Butterfly effect neither had I ever really put much thought into it. After reading one of the stories posted by a fellow blogger, I decided to share one of my own personal life experiences. So here it goes:

On August 20, 2014 I received a text from my cousin. She asked me if I was still going to accompany her  on her journey to one of the biggest and highly anticipated moments in her life, the start of College. Of course, I said sure. I knew how much it meant to her to finally go off on her own, after all I was once in her shoes. Back in ’11 when I began my new journey into Independence and adulthood, I was just as eager as she was. I was lucky enough to have my brothers and my mom send me off into the college world. My cousin and I have always been close so I felt honored when she  asked me to join her. Although I wanted to go I felt this strange feeling in the pit of my gut. That night I set my clothes out, comfortable traveling attire, hat, leggings, t-shirt, hoodie, and nikes. During my time as a college student, I’ve become all too familiar with the traveling lifestyle of a college student. I set my alarm for 6 am.

The morning of August 21, 2014, I was woken by my alarm.I checked my phone, I saw I had not  received any text messages from my cousin. However, I still kept my word. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, and got dressed. During this process my mother questioned me (as always) and I told her Aliesha (my cousin) asked me to join her on her 6-hour trip to school. My mother wasn’t pleased about this at all. As always, I prepared myself for the lecture and her angered looks. Don’t get it twisted people, my mom loves my cousin. I just think for some strange reason she had a nervous feeling. A mother’s intuition is usually spot on. In my usual efforts to prove her wrong, I assured her i would  be alright. There was no need for her worry, but of course my little  words of encouragement didn’t work. I told her I would call her when we arrived at the campus, hugged her, and left the apartment.

Now my mom’s superstitious feelings began to rub me the wrong way.Although I wanted to go, there was a small feeling in my gut that wasn’t too up for the ride. I wasn’t sure what it was or why I even had such a slight feeling. Maybe it was my intuition. Anyhow, I ignored this strange feeling and just brushed any negative thoughts off. I walked down to Aiiesha’s apartment, which took me less than 5 minutes, since she lives in a 2 block proximity to me. Funny, huh? We live so close to one another.  She packed the rest of the suitcases and her necessities in the car. The driver, Aliesha’s mother’s friend and I introduced our selves. Then shortly after all four of us women began our journey.

I was up for about 2 hours of the ride, but after we made a pit stop for gas. I drank some juice my cousin bought and fell into a deep sleep.

I woke up in the hospital, where I was surrounded by my family. I remember being woken by the sound of my father’s voice. I was heavily sedated so I was fortunate not to have felt the actual extreme pain I had acquired during the car accident. To me, I felt normal, but by the sight of everyone else’s face I had not looked the way I envisioned or felt. I asked about my cousins and the driver. I was told they were all doing well, but badly injured.

I was the only asleep. Therefore, I have no factual details on what or how this accident occurred,

For weeks, I was bed ridden.  Thankfully, I was able to move my toes. So that meant I was able to walk and possibly still able to DANCE. I had not suffered any trauma to my feet, abdomen, arms or neck. I felt very weak. I believe this was the weakest I had ever felt in my life. I later came to discover I suffered major head and facial injuries. I received facial fractures that damaged the right side of my face. My cheekbone was dislocated. The bones around my eyes and on my forehead had been crushed. This affected my right eye and caused it to be closed. Imagine not being able to see for weeks. It was horrible. You’re probably wondering, what happened to the left side of your face? It was great, a little swollen but nonetheless still perfectly functioning. The only issue I have, is that my left eye is much weaker than my right, Therefore, if my right eye isn’t functioning then my sight will not be at its full potential.

I was devastated but still thankful to be alive. I thanked God and still continue to show my gratitude for him sparing my life until this day. Unfortunately the other driver, who was a man had perished. God bless his soul.

During that low point and difficult time in my life, I realized who is really there for me. I know that I am loved by these people who didn’t hesitate to come to my side. I constantly question why did this happen? what have we done to deserve this? What if I had listened?

The Butterfly effect: Maybe if I had listened to my mom. I would be at Daemen, almost completing my journey as a fourth year college student. I would’ve went back on my word to my cousin, she would’ve been temporarily angry but far long forgiven me for it. Maybe if I had listened to my mom, I would be interning, stressing at school, and living my normal life. I hide myself away from the world, just to avoid glares, disgusting stares, and pitiful questions. I want and need time to heal.  For the past 2 months, i  haven’t had much social interaction with the outside world.

A wise source told me maybe this is your time to rest and just relax from the stress of school. You are always busy and overwhelming yourself at school with academics, clubs, family, and social life. This is your time to just take it easy, School will always be there and there are people supporting you. Throughout my journey on the road to recovery I am learning to do so many things. I have time to do anything. i am learning to re-build my physical strength, improve my vocabulary by reading and writing. I do these activities because I desire to as opposed to an academic obligation. I blog frequently, which is something I’ve always wanted to dedicate myself to. I read the bible. I research topics and ideas I am inquisitive to gain knowledge on. I am learning and teaching my self.

I have to rebuild myself (According to my friend Lonje) for the re-up, the comeback. I am determined to be better than before. Self growth, strength (physical, emotional, mental), self worth, love, less fear, and appreciation.  I will not give up because God and the people I love have not forsaken me. Each day is different but I am still recovering. I have yet to reach my full potential. I am beginning to see this unfortunate event as something positive.