Handling the truth

I recall reading a book to 

my son and his 4th grade 

classmates. In our story the TRUTH 

had fallen to the earth and 

broken in two. 1/2 was  hopelessly

lost in the fall, yet the

found part contained a message that 

read: You are loved. And all 

the people and inhabitants of the 

earth rejoiced in the message of 

this 1/2 TRUTH. The TRUTH was 

not complete, but it was enough 

for man to glory in. Soon

Earth's people began to war and 

fight tribe against tribe. Every nation 

wanted to possess the TRUTH. Earth 

became so chaotic that a young 

girl embarked on a long journey 

to find the missing part of

the TRUTH. And what she found 

astonished her. When she returned home 

she immediately climbed to the top 

of the tallest tower on the 

highest hill and put the TRUTH

together again for all to see:

You are loved, so are they.

And so the fighting mercifully stopped.

If only we'd accept that TRUTH.

~Happy Six Word Friday! Our prompt was OFFER.~

Everyday I'm shuffling

As much smile as I could muster while running a 10:10min/mile

Sunday was a gorgeous day to race in Chicago. And the racing crowd for the Bank off America Shamrock Shuffle was HUGE.

 40,000 people signed up to race and about 34,000 finished!

Somehow my husband got me to shave 2 minutes off my regular mile time yesterday. Which is something of a big deal. Especially on a race day. I think he may have a solid career in coaching and fitness. And he owes me a back rub.

After running faster than ever I was on a bit of Cloud Nine. It wasn't until I got home that I realized there were no finisher medals or coins. But honestly my racing medals pale in comparison to running with my babe the whole way in.

He shaved 2 mins. from my mile, but I added 3 to his. That's LOVE!

To think, a year ago today I could not complete a mile without taking a break. It's amazing.

I've got a feeling

My sense is something has changed.

This time is a bit different.

Trayvon's life and our lives matter.

One day wearing a hoodie will

not make brown males target practice.

~This Six Word Friday prompt is: SENSE. 

By most appearances, America is paying attention. Perhaps Trayvon's family will actually receive justice in the end. Perhaps Florida will rethink it's irresponsible "Stand your ground" law and it's implications. So many maybes....~~

Spring sprinting

If you've ever ventured to the Midwest during winter, you probably wanted to turn around and head back to warmer climates. It can be so brutal here with Jack Frost chilling every one's bones. And although this winter had it's days, it was nothing compared to what I've seen in the past.

So suddenly, here we are! Toward the end of March and not a frost in sight. It's pretty weird. Spring seems to be here definitively and I am gearing up for her with abandon.

I just paid to retake the Math portion of the Illinois Basic Skills test. Am finishing up my last two history classes. And excited to be racing in the Shamrock Shuffle on Sunday.

Life has a way of being so topsy-turvy, so I am consciously savoring today. The gentle breeze flowing through the kitchen. The fact that my husband and I are gainfully employed. No phone calls from the boys' school. And no crazies other than me and Laia on the trail this morning (its a scary story).

Cheers to a happy Hump Day!

So vain

 

Sometimes I think my writing perspective is akin to those song lyrics "You're so vain, you probably think is song is about you. Don't you? Don't you?"

I have a way of internalizing things I see or experience. Saving objects to become my personal story. And I often tell myself...

"Queshia, write in a more general fashion. Everything does not have to relate your life."

Sometimes I succeed and other times there is no way I can figure to make a happening NOT relate to me or my experience.

So all weekend I knew what my Monday post would be about. It would mourn the loss of Trayvon Martin of Florida.

A 17 year old boy who was followed, accosted, and then murdered by the self-appointed Neighborhood Watchman, George Zimmerman. Trayvon wad walking to the store to buy Skittles for his baby brother. He never made it back.

I can't look at Trayvon's picture without seeing my sons. Cute little brown boys who like candy and wear hoodies just like Trayvon's.  It was a simple grey hoodie that made him suspicious to George Zimmerman.

I still won't let my 10 year old walk one block alone to the store to get candy. Why? Because not only do I (unnecessarily) worry about the possibility of neighborhood bullies, but I am quite realistically scared of grown ass armed men. Cops and neighborhood watchmen alike.

I can't make this song NOT about me.

The funny thing is, there is no way to make my sons' look UN-suspicious to some people. To some (armed) people chocolate boys/teens/men will always look as if they are up to no good. Even when they carry nothing but a wallet or bag of Skittles.

Trayvon Martin is not the first child to be gunned down. Not the first black male to be slaughtered. Not the first innocent citizen to lose his life while minding his business.

Maybe I was wrong.

This song is not about me. It's about our young brown boys who are walking while black.

If you would like to sign the petition to bring the shooter to justice, please click here.