What To Do With What You Got.

What would you do if I gave you a million dollars? Okay, after paying all your bills, then what? Okay, after quitting your job, then what? Okay, after travelling to every place you want to travel, then what? Okay, after buying your mom/dad/husband/wife/kids/girl/guy that _____, then what? After starting that company, then what?

This is a line of questioning I'm fond of putting to friends and colleagues. After that long list of travel spots and spending on toys, I tend to get a response like, I'd open a flower shop, or I'd bike to Florida, or I'd learn how to fly a plane, or I'd give to charity. Then, I ask, why not do that now? And then, the light blub usually goes on.

It's tempting to put off the things that really mean something to us because of money. If we are lucky enough to make tons of money, or are at least reasonable successful financially, then we usually realize that there are some really important things that money can't buy, like health, and unconditional love. It's sounds cheesy, but it true. However, if we aren't so lucky, we make do with what we got and Goeth forth.

It's a Little Bit Funny, This Feeling Inside.

Whenever my older sister (the one before me) recommends a movie, it's always great. Yesterday, my wife wanted something to watch and she's a musical freak. My sister recommended Moulin Rouge, which as it turns out, my wife had been wanted to see forever.

The theme of the movie is that love conquers all, even death. In this case, an untimely death. This movie almost brought me to wet eyes (the precursor to tears). The movie ended, and I found myself wondering what my life would be like had I, say, three months to live. I've been blessed to have done 99% of everything I felt I needed to do before dying. For that one percent, I would need more time than three months. So, I decided I would try anyway, knowing that I would never see the fruits of my labor. For all I know, I could keel over in three month.

That is what faith is about, "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Heb. 11:1, NIV).

His Joy is Going to be My Strength

If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be listening to church sermons on an mp3 player, I would have laughed my ass off, and then asked...what's an mp3 player?

God bless the Internet, because I was able to download sermons from two of my churches. One I used to attend when I lived in Florida, and the other was from my current church. I was visiting yet another church last weekend hence the download. Anyway, the first sermon was on joy. I thought it was odd, because I thought I knew what joy was already. Maybe.

The sermon went on to explain that we all know what joy is when we experience it, but many of us have lost it or pursue it relentlessly only to watch it elude us again and again. Joy, the pastor said, was accepting that the Lord loves you regardless of whether of not you accomplish whatever it is you feel you need to make you happy, complete, etc. Joy comes from the Lord and when you connect with His joy you have that joy regardless of the outcome of your pursuit of happiness. In otherwords, lasting joy doesn't depend on getting that magical job (or not), it comes from knowing He loves you, He always has, and He always will.

Everybody Hates Divorce.

Every once in a while (in a loooong while) I get some blast of inspiration from television. Yeah, I said it. Hear me out. I was watching Everybody Hates Chris, once of the best shows I’ve seen on T.V. in years. It’s based on the childhood of comedian Chris Rock.

This particular episode was centered on Chris’ mom’s aversion (read: shame) to using food stamps (a forms of public assistance for groceries), a necessity and reality for a lot of urban blacks in the 1980s (when the show is set).

Anyway, Chris’ dad had found $200 worth of food stamps and showed them to his wife. The idea was that they could now re-allocate grocery funds to things they often didn’t have extra money for. A family trip to the movies, a trip to the hairdressers for some major hair-do, etc.

Rather than risk being caught by her friends spending food stamps, Chris’ mom spent money allocated for the electricity bill (in addition to food) on the bulk groceries she was supposed to pay for with the food stamps.

To make matters worse, in trying to avoid being caught trying to sell the food stamps for cash, she got roped into agreeing to get her hair done. She ended up having to barter the food stamps to pay the hairdresser.

When her husband finally found out, I expected him to explode. However, in the presence of their children at the dinner table, Chris' father caught himself and then asked why she didn’t use the food stamps, and then why the hairdressers. Finally, he resigned and said, “At least you paid the light bill.” Suddenly, the power went out. Fade to black.

I learned something very important about marriage, particularly black marriage, but certainly marriage in general. When times are tough, particularly over a stretch of time, It’s important for a man to keep his temper in check, particularly around his children. It’s also important for a man not to put down his wife in front of their children. He must be always tactful, even when he may be ‘in the right.’ Especially when delivering a reprimand. It should be done as lovingly as possible. That’s something that I wish was as easy in real life as on T.V. Still, I enjoy trying, everyday.

Giving thanks.

It’s not Thanksgiving for another week, but as I left work today, I just had to smile. At close to 5:30 p.m. on a Wednesday in November, in Boston, it was a balmy 64 degrees. I couldn’t believe it. It was also a blessing not only to be working again, but also doing work that I loved and was called to do. That is a rarity for a lot of people in this world.

Also, earlier in the day, I came across a few good colleagues I hadn’t seen in some time. And like Cheers, they all knew my name, and was glad I came (back).

After a nice train ride to Cambridge and a pleasant walk home in the comfortably cool night breeze, I came into the house to my smiling nieces and wife.

I have had days better than this one, and God knows, I‘ve had days worse. However, I thank God, I had today.

Black in the house of work.

Today was my first day at a new job. Not suprisingly, I was the only one who looked like me. Yeah, Black. That has always been the case for me, for most (i.e. about 95%) of my career.

The next thought on my mind was whether I was the only one who looked like me on the floor. I came across two black women, easily in their thirties whose dress and demeanor reaked of professional maturity.

This eventuality is something I've accepted a part of my life in Boston: being the only black male in an entire department, floor, or building. It's nothing I fume about because I know how hard I've had to work to get to where I am today. My mother always promised me I would have to work at least three times as hard as my white rivals. I know, it has been a combination of faith, education, discipline, grace, experence, and tenacity.

My concern is for today's young black youth. Specifically, if there are some who don't care to put forth the effort to, at the very least, become proficient in math, reading, writing, and comprehension, what will become of them once life gets tougher. When high school begins and there is less hand-holding. When college begins and they discover that 25-page papers with proper grammer are the rule, not the exception. When they go on that interview and are questioned not by a relative who knows how great they are inside, not by that sympatethic teacher that watched them try and sometimes fail, but a panel of white men and women who may only evaluate what they read, see, and hear then and there. What then?

People who change your life for the better.

If you live in a place long enough you run into someone you've lost. If you are lucky enough, you get to thank that person for making a difference in your life. I went into a Cambridge, Massachusetts barbershop of my youth, for only about the third time or so since I had relocated back to Cambridge.

I saw a man in the chair that, in about two seconds, I recognized as someone I had gone to the University of Masschusetts at Boston, some fourteen years earlier. His name came right back to my mind, Dave Pina. More suprisingly, he remembered my name.

We met at UMASS Boston towards the end of my freshman year, and his senior year. I was, at the time, just enjoying life. One day I was sitting in the Black Student Center with a friend who was a senior, during finals in May, when a dapper brother in a jacket and tie walked in. He looked so serious that I was compelled to come to attention from my couch lounging, as I thought he was a young professor or administrator.

He greeted us politely and asked what we were doing. We replied, nothing really. He then said he needed three volunteers to represent UMASS Boston at the Young Democrats Convention in Washington D.C. for the weekend. We told him we were free and we would be willing, but I being much younger than my friend, confessed to the dapper brother that I was completely clueless as to the world of politics, so I didn't thing I was be a good choice. He told me that the only thing I would need was a good shirt and a tie and a willingless to learn and meet people.

I was elated. I had never been to the nation's capital, and it would cost me nothing but my time. I was in. My friend was in too. So my friend said he could get one more for the desired foursome, and the next day we joined similar groups from other universities and colleges in Massachusetts on a bus ride to the nation's capital.

I was overwhelmed by how much I learned about life, government, and politics in America during that adventure to D.C. I ended up meeting Al Gore, Ron Brown, and scores of polically motivated young people. I have been enamored with government and polictics ever since, no longer content in my ignorance, knowing that despite my age, experience, and education, I had a right and duty to be part of the political process of my country. Dave Pina, thank you.

War! What is it good for?

Today is Veterans Day, a day of remembrance of all those who have fought for this republic commonly known as the United States of America. Each Veterans Day, I find myself thinking back to my time in the Army Reserve and how I could have easily been one of those soldiers who said goodbye mom, and never returned. I was never near any combat. I’ve never even been stationed overseas. However, I could have been.

Back in 1990 at the start of the Gulf War, just before Desert Shield became Desert Strom, I had just completed boot camp. With days from graduation, my comrades and I wondered if we would receive orders sending us back to our respective units, in our respective home states, or if we would get revised orders sending us to Saudi Arabia.

In my mind I knew this was the reality of what I had signed up for, war. After all the training and the monthly paycheck, and the G.I. Bill benefits, and the war stories, war was the bottom line. That is what each of us were there for, the possibility and maybe eventuality of war. Whether we had accepted it or not, all this preparation was for war. I had no illusions about that reality. However, I had no clue about being in a real war. I still don’t, despite all the months of training in everything from Basic Rifle Marksmanship, to Atomic, Biological, and Chemical warfare, to Land Navigation. I suspect nothing prepares one for the reality of war. I liken it to sex. No matter how many times one has read, watched, or heard about it. Ain’t nothing like the real thing,

Oddly enough, when I returned to my home unit per my orders, I was a bit dismayed. My entire section had been mobilized for the Gulf or had a related assignment in Europe. It was just I. To this day, I still don’t know why.

After re-watching Saving Private Ryan, I realized that war could bring out the best in us, whether we are in the military or civilians at home. It often takes catastrophe to bring out compassion.

War is treated as the final word in settling conflicts. Not because it is the best way but it is what we know. It is part of our human nature to fight (or flight) when faced with imminent danger or to ultimately get our way.

To be clear, some wars are necessary and/or unavoidable. This is not to be confused with a “good war” (where the threat of an imminent conflict neutralizes it). That is the prayer with war if we must have them.

I once read that when a conflict escalates or drags on, it’s because at least one side is holding on to an irrational position. Human nature being what it is, it’s always the other guy who is the irrational one.

There Are No White-Americans in Congress.

I was watching C-SPAN-2 and an on-going vote on the Senate floor, and noticed from the live feed of the deliberations that I could point out Senators Kerry and DeLay. Then I heard the speaker call out Senator Obama. I pumped my fist up for the Democratic senator from Illinois. However, when I looked out of the floor, I couldn’t find him. As a matter of fact I couldn’t find any non-white senators in the shot. Granted the shot wasn’t inclusive of every single corner of the senate hall, but I thought, wow! Isn’t the senate supposed to be representative of America?


Of course what I posit is an over-simplification of the senator election process. Each state gets two senators. Based of the demographics of the United States, most of the senators should be over 30, white and male. That's also means all the presidents have been and for the near future (i.e. through 2020) should be over 35, white and male. So essentially, the leadership of the United States is white and male. Ergo the face of America is that of a middle-aged, white male.

Then I asked my wife if there were any Whites in the Nigerian National Assembly (the Nigerian congress). She told me there weren't. I asked, not even White Nigerians? She said no. I asked my sister the same question. Her response delved a bit deeper, differentiating between being born Nigerian or being naturalized Nigerian. She felt that at the National Assembly level, like at the US President level, being a citizen by birth ought to be a requirement. Her point was that one shouldn't just be able to stroll into the country and ascend to a such a high post without some sort of civic and political tenure.

When I reflected on my conversation, I noticed something deeper. It would never occur to most Nigerians or anyone familiar with the demographics of Nigeria, to asked whether 'White Nigerians' held any high political perches of power. To them, to be Nigerian is to be black. Like water being wet, it's inherent. No one would dare dispute it, without risking ridicule or at least a quizzical reaction of some sort.

So, we know there are Whites in congress, and we also know that there are Americans in congress. But are there any White-Americans?

When is it Adultery?

Now that I'm married, one of the first things I learned was that I would have to deal with the x-factor, and I don't mean the comic book. As a married Christian, I take my marital vows extremely seriously. There is no gray area. I likened it to when I would play basketball with friends as a kid in Cambridge and whomever had possession of the ball to check it (bring it into play), would say "respect the line," if the opposing player attempted to cross the baseline before the ball was brought into play. We all know there is a line, and we all know we ought to respect it. The problem is that for some, the line is gray, or worse, badly faded.

Back to the x-factor. One of the first things I was keenly aware of was to manage my past as a single man, with my present as a married man. This included discussions with my wife about ex-girlfriends or/and female friends from my past. Some married men feel that one should just avoid such disclosures because they only invite more scrutiny. Well, to paraphrase Jesus, I've learned it's best to let my 'yes' be 'yes' and my 'no' be 'no.' Now, there are some married men that feel certain things or behaviors don't really qualify as adultery (i.e. a married person in sexual relations with someone other than his or her spouse).

While those men may be correct in their own logic, the truth is that men or women (yeah, you too) who commit adultery don't just wake up one sunny day in June and hop into another bed. It is the slippery slope of temptation that does the adulterer in. It takes more than a slice at a cord to break it. However, how quickly the cord breaks depends on how strong it is.

As we are all human, we all face temptation in many beguiling forms. However, take comfort in this: no temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it (I Cor. 10-13 NIV).

Is Bill Cosby Right?

I was at the library today and came upon what I decided would be the latest addition to my self-imposed book list. Is Bill Cosby Right? (Or Has The Black Middle Class Lost Its Mind?). At first glance, I thought the book by Michael Eric Dyson was in support of Cosby's position. Once I got home and read the inside flap (something I normally do before deciding on any book), I realized Dyson's book was an argument against Cosby's view.

I remember when I first heard the report of Cosby's statements, I thought, 'that's right, right on.' However, when I read through the introduction of Dyson's book, I realized that I hadn't gotten the entire text of Cosby's statements, verbatim. It turns our that I had to apply some critical thinking to what Cosby had said, and also re-examine some of his motives that do or may reside in myself.

Cosby, I believe was correct in pointing out that personal habits or/and lifestyles of Black American families contribute to their plight. However, the same (as Dyson pointed out) can be said for any non-Black family as well. Also, systemic (i.e.: political, legal, and socio-economical) issues also play a key role in keeping the 'lack' in Black when it comes to public education, family stability, and viable employment. There are other sources on the Web (not to mention off-line) that get into greater depth on the above issues, so I will digress.

To Dyson point, I do believe Black elitism is alive and well, as is shame for those Blacks who chose or can't help but be ghettofabulous. I have been blessed as a Nigerian-American living in the Greater Boston area to live on both ends of the Red Line (subway). Ashmont (in the belly of Dorchester) is very demographically different from Harvard (in the heart of Cambridge). I am as cozy with giving a brother a pound and a 'whaz'zup dog' as I am nodding to a fellow Cantabridgian with a smile and a 'good morning."

In the end, I feel there is room for all Blacks to get theirs, whether they're from Cambridge or from Dorchester. We need to understand how similar and different our lives are, and then embrace those things. When I see my nieces and nephew fully wrapped up in the hip-hop cultures wardrobe and diction, my only concern is that they realize that what is 'cool' isn't always the same as what gets you where you want or need to go.

I pray that we don't abandon each other out of shame or contempt.

Why are we here? Why now?

Finally, I have bent to the lure of le blog. After a conversation with my cousin-in-law "K", about what we as Christians do to spread the Good News, I found myself feeling like I had not been doing as much of the "heavy lifting" as I ought to, or could. Following the directive of Jesus to go and tells all nations of what he had taught his disciples; baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I argued could be accomplished in a variety of ways. I believe that, we are all given gifts and are spiritually called to use these gifts according to His purpose.

This blog is my exploitation of the gift given to me to that directive. Or a least the manifestation of that gift. Deepak Chopra wrote in his book The Way of the Wizard, cherish every desire in your heart, for one day they will lead you to God. My prayer for this blog is that regardless of your religious or/and spiritual belief is that your desires do lead you to God, or a the very least make you believe in something beyond yourself that illuminates your life, fills you with love, and brings you peace of mind.