Words & Banter

Curious … Then Furious



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I don't know about you, but I keep thinking about Jackie's Facebook post on Cinco de Mayo. I'm not sure why I even paid attention to the email notice that she posted something since, as you know, I don't "do" social media.


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Sometimes, inexplicably, something compels us to do things we would not normally do. Regardless, as soon as you forwarded it to me and I read her opening words, "Some may say I don't have a right to talk about this day …" I was curious. And then, infuriated.


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Based on the first words you said when you called me, it was obvious you were livid. Jackie may well be the most amazing person I know, not only for her knowledge and experience in the adult education world but for her creativity and passion. So, for someone, anyone, to say that she's less than who she is just because she doesn't speak her "so-called" native language is beyond unbelievable.


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It is ignorant. Insensitive. Naïve. Racist. Shall I continue? And, it says so much about the person making a judgment about her, based solely on her skin color and last name. As expected, Jackie was very professional as she did not say who said it, but for her to post something that personal means it hit a nerve.


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Who cares that she may, or may not, speak Spanish? How about that she has probably, single-handedly, changed the trajectory of so many people's lives? And the ripple effect of that. I suspect she has also changed, for the good, untold numbers of people's perceptions about Latinas because of who she is.


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At the risk of being politically incorrect, I do not know what the correct phrase is … I know Latinx replaces Latinos and Latinas, and I believe Hispanic refers to those who speak Spanish. Yet, when we taught at KIPP Houston High School, and I flat out asked the students their preference, they said we should call them "browns."


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Growing up in New York, I think we called them Hispanics, although I remember an awful slang term. But there were lots of those offensive terms describing different groups of people. It's funny in that looking back, I realize that I lived a very sheltered life in that I never knew any Latinas or Hispanics, or whatever phrase I should use, before moving to Texas.


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I was in an International Business program at New York University that was a melting pot of races, ethnicities, and nationalities, as was London Business School. Can I remember the first brown person I ever met? No. I cannot even remember the first non-white person I ever met. The funny thing is I do remember once making the assumption that Jackie spoke Spanish, but when she clarified that many people thought the same thing, but she was only fluent in English, I thought nothing more about it. Until now. She may not have been taught to speak Spanish, but it is obvious that her upbringing instilled important values and priorities.


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I know! And I also know that I've rarely seen you react as strongly and as quickly as you did after you read Jackie's Facebook posting. I won't say you were in a rage, because you are always controlled and know exactly what you're saying, but you were definitely outraged.


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I still am. The only difference is my tone of voice.


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Well, I admit I'm not as good as you at keeping "calm". America's changing, and not for the better. It seems like issues about race and ethnicity are becoming more prevalent, and people are visually defining others and "conveniently" ignoring the fact we're all Americans.


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Jackie summed it up best when she said she was, "Knocked down as a child for being "brown" and now knocked down for not being brown enough."


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Which is why these words posted to her Facebook timeline were perfect … "We are who we allow ourselves to be … not who we allow others to tell us we are … or are not. Jackie, I cannot tell you who you are, but I can tell you that I think you are amazing and your dedication to helping others is what I see when I look at you."


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I quickly posted that before I even called you.


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Yes, you did.
Photo by michaelmjc on iStock

Did you know that Saturday is National Garage Sale Day? (Yes, that’s a real thing.) But no matter the reason for a garage sale — whether to get rid of things you’re not using anymore, an attempt to declutter, or estate sale “leftovers” — they can be about so much more than just “stuff”. Something Red learned a few years ago when our mom passed ...


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Thanks for the accounting of your garage sale. But, given how many hours you spent preparing for it, and then the actual sale itself, did you calculate how much you “earned” on a $/hour basis?


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No, all I know is that it seemed to take forever to go through everything in Mom’s house and decide what to keep, what to sell, what to donate. And what to trash. As far as the garage sale, I’ll give you your half the next time I see you.


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Keep my half. You did all the work. I did not even offer to help.


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And that was a big help. Thank you.
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Photo by Iam Anupong on iStock

After decades away from golf, Red decided she wanted to start playing again. On a recent Sunday, after going to the driving range, she met up with Black. And the very first thing Black said to her? “So, are you wearing white pantyhose?” They both laughed, but hours later, Red realized the perfect reply (don’t you hate when that happens?) would have been, “No, but I’m honoring Skin Cancer Awareness Month!" Confused? Then read one of Red's favorite posts ...

I'll never forget the day. It was an "almost" ordinary day out on the golf course with my mom and dad during the heat of a Long Island summer. Now, if "Long Island" conjures up images of stately manors on the North Shore (think "Great Gatsby") or beachfront mansions in the Hamptons (think Robin Leach and his popular show "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous"), you can put those out of your head. I'm not talking about some fancy country club golf course, just a regular public course.

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Design by Sawyer Pennington, Underlying photo by Ye Jinghan on Unsplash

Second Chance Month may almost be over, but giving someone a second chance, especially for those who’ve been on the wrong side of the law, shouldn’t end when April does. Because we’ve all made mistakes, and a second chance is a gift that can make all the difference, as Red dramatically learned below



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I had no idea that April was “Second Chance Month” until you sent me the official proclamation. I find it interesting that in the midst of juggling our usual million and one Red & Black things, your interest in criminal justice, which I know you consider a “passion project”, is as strong as ever, maybe even stronger.


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It is not intentional, sometimes “passion projects” find you. And, when you least expect it.


red headred headassets.rebelmouse.io

Or where you least expect it! Only you would take a “field trip” to a men’s prison.


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I will not get on my soapbox about how our education system contributes to the criminal justice problem. I will never forget a friend of mine who was formerly incarcerated telling me, “Rehabilitating people makes the assumption they were habilitated in the first place.”


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When you stop and think about that statement, it’s pretty powerful! But I have to smile as once upon a time you, and I, used words like “offenders” and “prisoners” until we learned how our choice of words could be dehumanizing.


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Says the woman who once believed in the idea of “lock ’em up and throw away the key”.
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