It's been far too long...

Life is crazy.

Then again, life is what you shape it to be, from the blessings you are given to the choices you refuse or fear making. This period of my full 28.5 years has by far been the most fascinating--both enjoyable and intolerable at times. I'm growing, but I still feel cocooned to a point. I used to think that cocoon was Amherst, until I began to understand that I am my own inhibitor, stopping myself from emerging just short of seeing the light.

Or maybe it isn't time to break yet. I trust that God will let me know when.

I have had countless conversations about what is wrong with the world, what is wrong with people here (and what's right, sometimes), what is wrong with this town that lies behind a "Tofu Curtain", what is wrong with me. The answers I both receive and conjure on my own all vary depending on the multitude of perspectives I encounter and the particular moments at which we exchange ideas. I have noticed that more often, however, I spend less and less time considering what is right about the aforementioned things. To the point of keeping this blog introspective, I won't touch on the "what's wrong with the world...the people here" points, but I refuse not to talk about me right now. I need to, so bear with me.

I told my roommate on Memorial Day (while reflecting on the many moods we've both experienced over the last year) that it is often hard to be yourself in a space that is not conducive to who you were and who you would like to become. For me, I identify Amherst as my space of suppression. Having been here since I was 23, this is a space where I have come of age in a way I wasn't able to while attending undergraduate and working in my hometown. Reflecting on my choices then--even not having any qualms about uprooting myself to Amherst--I wonder if my older self would have chosen this path, given the same opportunities.

I can't answer that question, and I trust that God has me (and her) here for a multitude of reasons. If you'd ask me to list them now, I couldn't :)

I'm just trusting Him on this one. In any case, this blog has always provided an outlet that sitting with myself, praying, or talking to others has not allowed. So I'm back, after a brief, but intense, hiatus. One day, if I haven't in person,

I'll catch you up to my Amherst adventures, but I'm still processing a lot of them (LOL). Some things just don't compute (and shouldn't).

So I went to a "Shrink" yesterday...

After an emotional rollercoaster of a year and a rather tumultuous few weeks, I finally made it over to UMass's counseling and psychiatric services yesterday to try and sort out my emotions with a "neutral party"--a shrink.

A list of things (in no particular order) led me to re-evaluate being evaluated and seeking help, not limited to:

1) Residual emotions about social and academic happenings related to graduate school.
2) Sadness triggered by homesickeness
3) Despair triggered by a baseless long-distance relationship
4) Powerlessness over finances towards a long-time goal (buying a car)
5) The death of a friend
6) Supporting friends and family as they identified/mourned (I also mourned) lost friend
7) Adjusting to two new jobs (nothing more stressful than feeling like a rookie)
8) Being at a Dissertation stalemate
9) Still mourning the loss of my grandmother
10) Pre-mourning the loss of Miracle, my family's 9-year-old Golden Retriever, who has cancer

The list could go on, but I'll stop here. I went in to seek help (for all of this) on Monday, November 14, shell-shocked but moving anyway; while I don't have much, I did have students, friends and family depending on me in various regards. I had to get right.

They gave me a general look over and questions, and told me to go home, subsequently telling me to come back next week.

I wasn't in crisis, according to desk staff.

If you saw me anytime around November 14, you knew "crisis" was not the word.

In any case, things got progressively worse, for the better...as ironic as that may seem. By God's providence, I thought, I had a car lined up to buy...not necessarily the fancier models I had hoped I could purchase but something that I could whip back and forth...preferably to Albany and Chicopee, MA, to spend time with my then-boyfriend. The day before I exchange funds for the car, the car is in an accident. #FAIL.

Superadded to everything else, I was crushed by this glitch in my plans. Literally, broken in half. But, once again, Providence seems to come through. I was tipped on another car, "newer" (meaning late '90s, lol), lower mileage, etc...same price, with a plan. Again, a way to bridge the divide between the boyfriend and I. There is a snafu with the paperwork that causes a two-month delay in purchasing. Again, #fail.

I promise, however, God knows what He's doing, all the time!

The same day that my hopes were high about this new car was the same day that George (my former boyfriend), dumped me...citing distance, his work load, and my recent helplessness and his related helplessness to help me as a reason for us to part ways--the "it's-not-you-it's-me" speech. I had only heard these on television, having never been broken up with before. Mind you, the first two reasons were questions I'd brought up on LABOR DAY about our relationship (He prefaced his windy, pointless speech with "Remember in September when you asked..." for instance). The entire time he tried to insist that he wasn't using me (which he did for company at his friends weddings and barbecues and to edit his papers for class through October) or stringing me along (which he was honestly because he could have said something, anything before November besides "I understand your point"). It was selfish and pathetic, largely.

This is what I call an asshole move, ladies and gentlemen. But I may be worse than him, because while he was pouring his heart out saying what I think he thought I wanted him to say (a pattern), I was thrilled. His lopsided sympathy couldn't have better timing. At the point that he exited my life ("exited" because I've purged myself of all but memories), I was one stressor less. Life got that much better.

From there, attention turned to other stressors and how to make them better or non-existent, seeing that God was willing to provide if I was willing to surrender.

I gave up on "out-of-pocket" purchased cars (for now) and instead went to my credit union (take #2...the first exchange wasn't so nice) for financial counseling. Only because there was no reason to purchase a car a week before I leave for Detroit, I'll be an owner of a 2006 or later car model in late January or February, LORD-WILLING :)

During the week of Thanksgiving, I near-haphazardly rented a 2011 Camry (**drool**) so I could house-hop as a single woman and enjoy the holiday weekend out with friends. This alone was so recharging that I'd nearly forgotten the breakup (until "Purging Day"), the car drama, and the homesickeness. I just lived, happily, and gave thanks.

The next two weeks, I celebrated my birthday with friends and students between three parties (my last class, on my birthday, was a wrap-up party...with birthday cake and a gift from my co-teacher and a card from some of my students :)). I had a blast, and I honestly face-palmed myself for ignoring all of the love that the Lord had surrounded me with through these people and my family while I chased after the idea of lopsided love with one person who didn't deserve time.

BACK TO MY "SHRINK"

Finally, I arrived at the counseling suite, letting them know on their little questionnaire how the Lord and I helped me, without their help, in as many words can fit on the little lines as possible.

My therapist, who was offputtingly abrupt at first meet, apologized for them overlooking my condition, but turned it back on me saying that I should have basically begged for help or stayed until someone knew I was "bleeding inside".

I didn't quite see the need to run down this list of faith bringing me through, especially when after prodding him with questions about relationships and work stress he tried to sum it up to generalized "daddy issues" (which he could not "diagnose" after hearing about our relationshp) and offending me something terrible by asking me "Coming from Detroit, how did you end up in graduate school?"

Sigh.

Needless to say, he determined that someone as articulate as I am doesn't--I'm sorry--DON'T need no counseling. I don't agree completely, as we all need to check in sometimes. I certainly didn't need his patronistic assessment of my black single female educated self.

I should've went to see Lucy from "Peanuts". Probably would have had the same results, but at least she's famous for not helping people.

The Copout

(There are only 3 men in my life whom I absolutely "get". One of them is pictured above.)

Well, this one was coming.

And I'm not even bitter. Yet.

I after witnessing and experiencing some interesting male/female relationship and friendship dynamics, I've been prompted by my own curiosity to issue the following question to the opposite sex:

Why can't you deal with life as it is given instead of sacrificing everything for a little bit of nothing? ("Nothing" read: a few moments of bad sex with a hot (or not) stranger, an addiction, a demanding job with little return, your self-importance, etc., etc.)

Almost every man I know is always in search of "more". What "more" is depends on the extent of his ego. "More" could be still reaching for a childhood dream that he may or may not have (severely) out-aged. "More" could be him seeking a sexual outlet from his relationship because his (very) familiar repertoire of sexual prowess causes his partner to all but capitulate to sex with him; but a new/girl or guy wouldn't know all his "old tricks" for a few more months. "More" also accounts for those men who put love, personal health, family, etc. on the backburners in a vain effort to prove not only to himself but to the world (who does not care, largely, while the people who do are forced to lie in wait) that he is somebody. The "more" that they seek is generally egotistical: I want someone ELSE to find me interesting, virile, attractive, lovable etc., etc., but in the meantime, I expect to hold on to everything I don't appreciate. What is this about? What is listed above are just my opinionated observations (all are real scenarios).

The general reaction the prompting of this question or the simplified question of "Why the hell are you so damn selfish?" consists of a combination of the blaming of others (often the neglected) for their lack of support or the mention imaginary parties on whom these gentlemen base their egos (often call "everybody else" or "they" or "my boys"). Those of us "lying in wait" don't care about those imaginary people and, largely, those of us who do express a genuine love and concern don't offer our opinions or our truths to discourage or hurt you but to help that ego at least be based in something productive and to show that we do care. Of course, any direct or indirect attack on the male ego's more ridiculous endeavors are grounds for dismissal, name-calling and other abuses, or infidelity. Women, however, are deemed crazy, ungrateful, bitchy, unlovable...when we choose to be miserable by ourselves instead of miserable with His Royal Useless--king of the cats.

But of course these same men (who fall into the categories above) will love a woman who is like them all day. They will chase after infidelity, stay to endure verbal and physical abuse, let a woman use him as an ATM, they will play "daddy" to a woman with no direction...and sometimes they will do this clandestinely while a good woman is still clueless and hanging on. What prompts this? Albeit, many women do fall into these same categories of "downsyness" (Miah's word for extreme stupidity), but what would prompt anyone to emotionally wreck themselves and others whom they supposedly love with self-destructive commitments and behaviors that may temporarily boost one's ego?

I'm not buying the copouts anymore.

But, still, I'm not bitter. Yet.

In Motion

(pic wth friends as we campaigned to save affirmative action in Michigan with the NAACP, circa 2006)

A few weeks ago, a younger colleague of mine (about 7 years younger) asked me quite genuinely "What movements are you a part of...right now?" This followed a political panel that we were both present at. I stood and thought about it for a second, thinking about my passions and affiliations over the years for the bettering of society (and self), and responded that "at the moment" my concern was Student Bridges, the college access organization we both are working for to get underrepresented students aware of and ready for college. She seemed concerned that she wasn't doing enough, but I paused and replied that she was doing enough right now with her work and passion for our organization. "One movement at a time is enough for me," I said before walking away.

I meditated on this exchange for a few weeks, now finding the words to talk about my musings. In the past I've affiliated myself with pro-affirmative action, anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-hate, Democratic, student empowerment, environmental, and equal rights for all causes. I am still all of these things and on top of them, a Christian and Black (and all other corrective ethnic) Studies advocate. I have never seen a need to separate these concerns into categories; my larger concern was never being affiliated with a cause. My concern was with the inequalities of the human condition lived by all because of prejudices, selfishness, and the concern for the empowerment of the few with agency over the whole of humanity.

I think that just about covers where I stand.

"Movements", as they come and go fleetingly, are not about the moment, about the scene you can construct en masse, about the attention you can get if you scream loud enough. They are about reaching the heart's capacity to soften to your fellow being (human or not), reaching the mind's ability to rationalize what is right over what is wrong. This is what the Civil Rights movement meant. While many of the survivors and martyrs of that era did not expect immediate change for themselves, they planned for and prayed for a better future for their children and the children of their opponents.

I struggle with identifying with the "Occupy" movements stretching across the United States. I do identify with the "99 percent", who --if not unemployed--are insecurely employed and are at the mercy of those who "have" and allocate capital as it best benefits their small circles to the detriment of their employees. Why I can't identify is because of the anger, the bells and whistles, and the spectacular elements of this rather disorganized movement. And where is the connection to the underemployed? The undocumented? Those beyond the national poverty line? Those also known as an unaccounted for portion of that 99 percent who lose everything if they miss a day at one of those 1 percenter corporate chains and lay at the mercy of their local and state legislators who almost never presently have their best intentions in mind? While I see the effect in what these groups are doing on the media, I am not sure how this--without heart and cognitive concern of the fellow man and rooted in a system of capitalistic gain, largely--can facilitate any large scale change. They've done a great job, however, in exposing the desperate points to which the "haves" will go to enforce the abuse the police-state on the "have-nots", across colorlines.

Movements for change are about reaching a common ground and connecting with your fellow human being. We have much to learn from our past in our reach for a brighter future. I am open to those movements for change that concern the whole, a bridge between classes, nationalities, races, religions genders, sexual orientations, etc., that count for the empowerment of our world beyond the concepts of capital. If we got beyond the power of the almighty dollar, who knows what commonalities we could reach?

But as I said, one movement at a time. I'll pass my seeds of activism onto my students and colleagues, my friends, my parents and family, my future children, whose hearts and minds I have access to. We can be the positive change we wish to see in the world by identifying ourselves with humanity, not a "cause".

A resting place fit for a "Queen's Mother"

Markeysha Dawn Davis
Doctoral Candidate
W. E. B. Du Bois Department of Afro-American Studies
University of Massachusetts Amherst
(313) 318-1831
mddavis@afroam.umass.edu

The Worst Bad...

When I pray to the Lord about my life and my family and friends, I always ask that His will be done--despite our own desires. Not to say that I don't ask for certain things for them or myself; if things are meant to come to pass, they will. But regardless of what our wants are, He knows our needs...and what will draw us closer to him ultimately.

He has been pretty good to me throughout my "hiatus" from this blog and regardless of most of the painful things I've experienced this year. Through the successes, the deaths, the disputes, the heartbreaks, new loves, illnesses, disappoints, I know that He has been at work the whole time. The one thing I've learned is not to ask Him "Why?" Instead, I've opted for the "Let's see" or "What can I learn from this" approaches.

Today, I received a reminder of his work during a conversation with a former romantic interest. This guy--nice looking, successful, intelligent-- has been persistent for years--which any woman can appreciate. However, in praying about him and a possible relationship months ago, all signs (ever) would point to "No". I often got the point from our conversations early on that he was interested in the idea of me, but not me as I was. I could not talk about my passion (my work with black culture and activist tradition) without some dismissive comment and conversations were usually consumed with his own opinions and thoughts. I didn't feel respected or appreciated; just wanted. The romantic interest he had for me was flattering, but it definitely was not enough.

After some prayer and upsetting times, God would send different people and things to show me what I should expect and look for to fulfill my happiness, but I know that He knew my emotional hang-ups tied to a certain relationship lingering on the outskirts of romance that prevented me from giving myself completely to another person. Of course, He squashed that immediately (lol). During that time I questioned myself, my will, my wants for what they were. And even during that time, I resolved not be my best self. Eventually, enough became enough and I gave up on love, honestly told the former romantic interest above that I could not even manage a relationship or whatever he wanted from me because of the reasons listed, and I sought to be alone to figure things out.

I prayed about it, people came and went, and then out of nowhere came my current boyfriend...at ball...like in a Disney movie. At first, I was unamused and that may have been the last time I questioned God, or as I stated at the time, "Really, Lord?! For real?" I'd finally resolved that I'd be better off alone trying to figure things out, and here comes this guy. But, in essence, he was everything I needed: stable, funny, relatable, hard-working, family-oriented, romantic, handsome AND interested. So with a LOT of prayer, I let myself fall in love (like I had a choice...lol).

It has not been perfect. He's really busy with school and full-time work (as am I). The dates and flowers have been less frequent. We talk often but sometimes we just can't sync up in person. These issues have all been cues to run in the past, but my prayers have remained consistent with one amendment as it relates to us-- I pray for not only God's will but patience throughout this period. I have definitely been tested, but I know He has a bigger plan for me. Whether this man, or another, is part and parcel of this plan is to be determined. But so far, he's still here, and I'm happy about that.

But back to today...

The former romantic interest asked me out; of course, I said no because I am seeing someone. "Ok" is his first reply, and then he spouts on about how he wasn't given enough of a chance to make something work with me. I mentioned to him that he was great, but not for me and that I was relying on God's will (which I'd interpreted as "no" on anything between us, if I was to rely on the obvious). I did not say that God did not send him to my life for a reason. But he took pause to that and pretty much asserted that he may have been the "bigger plan" God had for me and that I was doing my own will.

What?

I refused to entertain that comment or the audacity of it with him--opting for a clean, final reply of "Goodbye"-- but I learned something new and a bit troubling about his character. The manipulation I sensed (and had generally sensed) in his tone made me realize even more that he was not "God's will" for me. For someone I'd previously prayed about and moved on from, I think that the Lord was clear at that moment about giving me the one word I needed to edge out of that corner.

The Lord knows what He is doing with us, and we have no right to tell Him what it will be or won't be as it relates to our wants and needs. God's will is done whether we want it or not; if this was not the case, who would He be to us? To this world? The worst thing we could do is impose consume ourselves with our desires to the point that we neglect or demand more of the blessings that God has already placed in our way. I hope that this man finds happiness with someone who can love and appreciate him and also that he learns to do the same and, more importantly, learns to heed the God we serve instead of expecting other people to submit to his own will.

In the meantime, I'll stay in tune and in touch. I've got some waiting to do...

Markeysha Dawn Davis
Doctoral Candidate
W. E. B. Du Bois Department of Afro-American Studies
University of Massachusetts Amherst
(313) 318-1831
mddavis@afroam.umass.edu

Yesterdays....

I was just sitting around today, idling after church at Vita Nova and brunch with some friends at Lone Wolf.

Dawdling...as I like to say. In my own house.

I often do this when I feel like I have no release. Then I get restless. Then I get desperate. And I leave, usually to return with something I don't need in tow.

I've idled around a lot these days, passively seeking some release, preferring to wallow in stress, work, and anxiety about what I can't control or what I can control but can't quite get my mind around just yet. It's is a painful kind of idling because I know I can make better use of my time.

Then I remembered this blog.

I stopped contributing my entries because of just a few reasons:

1) I didn't want nutty people in my FBWorld, "Twitterverse", or real life reading it as a digest

2) Some confusing/infuriating/painful things happened that I did not know how to punctuate here, and

3) I fell in love. Again.


Of course, more than this happened.

My grandmother--my friend, whom I adored and admired--passed away suddenly in May. I've had a lot of success academically and professionally (the stress/work part of my absence is half related to this). I found out two weeks ago that my beloved Miracle was diagnosed with cancer and who knows how long he will be with us, not even sugar-coating it. It has been very depressing, but ((jazz hands)) the show must go on as the burdens pile up.

This has been an interesting eight-month hiatus. I really think I should start blogging again, but I am not sure who will read after all this time.

If you are willing to read, I am willing to keep writing. Just for my sanity at this point.

It helps.