(ThyBlackMan.com) On Friday, Film maker Tyler Perry joined President Barack Obama at three pricey fundraising events in Atlanta to raise money for the president’s 2012 re-election campaign. The sold-out events, sponsored by the African-American Leadership Council and Tyler Perry, kicked off with a private reception followed by a gala celebration and later on, an evening at the movie mogul’s home. This was the President’s first visit to metro Atlanta in 18 months.
President Obama began his fundraising at a private residence where 75 people paid $10,000 each to attend. Tickets for the gala celebration, which attracted 1,000 donors to Tyler Perry’s sprawling southwest Atlanta studio, were a hefty $500, though a smaller number sold at $250, according to the campaign. The gala featured a performance by R&B singer and The Voice star Cee-Lo Green.
Do you remember the "40 dollars" stories back in December? Congress was about to let a tax cut for millions of middle class families expire.
Then you shared your stories. You talked about how a little extra money goes to help pay for medicine for a sick spouse, gas money to get to work, or school books for a child. Thousands of Americans from different circumstances all spoke out with the same voice, and it was undeniably powerful.
Congress extended the tax cut, along with unemployment insurance, but only for two months.
So here we are in mid-February, the deadline only a few days away. And once again, if Congress doesn't act, working families will receive about $40 less with each paycheck.
So help us to highlight again how Congress's inaction would affect everyday families outside of Washington.
And this time, we want to put a face to your voice. So take a minute to snap a photo. And if you can, show us what you'll have to give up without that extra money in your paycheck. We'll use images from Americans around the country on WhiteHouse.gov to show how the payroll tax cut helps real people.
A Kentuckian revved up his engine to race on the freeway, then peered over at me and flashed “the bird.” I looked towards my husband and started laughing in shock, because I hadn’t gotten the finger in awhile. Not even in Atlanta traffic.
We both couldn’t figure out why he wanted to race, let alone why I got the middle finger from a stranger. Process of elimination went into effect. Maybe our kids in the back seat frowned at him and that got his blood boiling. Or maybe he was upset that our car was faster than his.
Then the "Ah Ha" moment hit us. That’s it! It was the Obama window decal. He was ticked off that we were Obama supporters. We let his anger roll off our backs and went on our way, taking the higher road of nonviolence and overlooking ignorance.
The upcoming elections caused me to reflect on this incident. My stand is this: I’ll take the bird for Obama. I’ll stand up in red neck central with a bullhorn and scream out his name. I’ll cast my vote again and again for Obama. People are too busy being ignorant and bashing Obama instead of supporting him. I can imagine that people think being against Obama is what’s popular, not realizing that he’s for the “little man,” who is the blue collar worker that struggles to put food on the table. Get off the movement to bash Obama, and jump on the train to support him.
I grew up wearing braids. I can remember running through sprinklers in Nashville, TN with two big plaits in my hair. In the fourth grade, Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston were all the rave, and my sister and I got jerry curls trying to emulate what was "in." The curl juice stained our pillowcases and the chemical took out our hair. My mom quickly put my sister and I back in braids.
Occasionally, my mom would press our hair to straighten it. The "kitchen," or what we called "the baby hairs" near the neck, would give me goose bumps when she tried to straighten them. The smell of any hot comb still makes me reminisce on sitting in the "hot seat" getting dolled up. I'd bite my lip hoping that mommy wouldn't burn my neck and leave a nasty scar. The image of beauty in my mind at a young age was straight hair that flowed in the wind.
Growing up my siblings and I moved from one university town to another, our parents are educators; which allowed us the opportunity to live in different cities throughout the U.S. The communities we lived in were fairly diverse, but on many occasions, there were very few Black kids in my class. We were the minority.
When I was eight years old, for fun I wrapped bath towels around my head, grabbed a bare paper towel roller, used it as a microphone, and instantly became the "material girl." I wanted long straight hair like my White and Latino girlfriends. I loved being Black, but images of my hair weren't the norm in the media. I didn't understand why water would make my hair shrivel up, or why silk pillowcases were a must have in keeping your hair-do.
As a teenager, I became more comfortable with my African American textured hair. I was crowned my high school's Homecoming Queen wearing braids. Even though I was now proud of my hair and it’s texture, I still experienced difficulties because I didn’t necessarily feel that I fit in. Looking back I laugh at the photos, because the crown was constructed for straight hair and the combs on the crown rested on top of my head.
In college, I still experimented with my hair and continued to struggle with what was deemed beautiful. My college roommate convinced me to take out my braids, and she gave me my very first relaxer, and washed out the chemical in the dormitory bathtub. It burned like hell, but took out the naps and my hair was instantly straight. My hair was fried, dyed, and laid to the side. I thought I was the hottest ticket in town.
About a year ago, I watched Chris Rock's documentary "Good Hair," which really made me question what I was doing to my own hair. Why was I putting guanidine hydroxide on my scalp? I decided to take a break from relaxing my hair and go back to my natural roots.
Sesame Street's video, "I Love My Hair" is the perfect message to send young girls of color. It's a message that is driven from the White House to one's own house. The images of the Obama girls wearing cornrows to Sesame Street's characters wearing afros will only help girls' self-esteem and feeling of inclusiveness.
The same message of self-love is heard in Willow Smith's song, "Whip My Hair." In the song, she emphasizes the importance of loving oneself. Her image and lyrics exude a fine example of what it means to be proud of who you are.
I can only hope that this message is carried out and more young girls take pride in their nappy hair. In loving my own hair, I've grown to love that there are so many wonderful and unique ways to style my hair. Whether I press my hair, wear twists, weave or braids. What I questioned as "beautiful" growing up is no longer an issue. Hopefully, this positive message will spread around the globe so young Black and Brown girls will see the true beauty of their hair.
A Kentuckian revved up his engine to race on the freeway, then peered over at me and flashed “the bird.” I looked towards my husband and started laughing in shock, because I hadn’t gotten the finger in awhile. Not even in Atlanta traffic.
We both couldn’t figure out why he wanted to race, let alone why I got the middle finger from a stranger. Process of elimination went into effect. Maybe our kids in the back seat frowned at him and that got his blood boiling. Or maybe he was upset that our car was faster than his.
Then the "Ah Ha" moment hit us. That’s it! It was the Obama window decal. He was ticked off that we were Obama supporters. We let his anger roll off our backs and went on our way, taking the higher road of nonviolence and overlooking ignorance.
The most recent elections caused me to reflect on this incident. My stand is this: I’ll take the bird for Obama. I’ll stand up in red neck central with a bullhorn and scream out his name. I’ll cast my vote again and again for Obama. People are too busy being ignorant and bashing Obama instead of supporting him. I can imagine that people think being against Obama is what’s popular, not realizing that he’s for the “little man,” who is the blue collar worker that struggles to put food on the table. Get off the movement to bash Obama, and jump on the train to support him.
I usually get a kick out of seeing political and presidential Halloween masks. I laugh opening the door to trick-or-treaters wearing a Hillary Clinton, Bush, Sarah Palin, or Barack Obama mask, and gladly give them candy. However, the latest mask of our 44th President of the United States made me more than a little bit uncomfortable. It is a President Obama mask depicting him as a demon.
Flashbacks of blackfaced college students at fraternity Halloween parties filled my head, and Ku Klux Klan white sheeted costumes blurred my vision. Our three-year-old son hid behind me when I enhanced the demonized “Baracula” mask on the computer screen. “Mommy is that Barack Obama?” he shrieked, looking at the screen with his arms wrapped around me.
My husband thinks I’m overreacting, but I believe this zombie mask depiction of our 44th President is distasteful and borderline racist.
