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"She
said you were a good student until you became
pregnant with your first child. I know you had
to have dreams, and I know that the life you re
leading is not it," He reached down and touched
Tianna's hand, "You can still have your dreams,
even with your children. But you just have to
be willing to work a little harder to make those
dreams come true.
My
first experience with the welfare system had been
awful. While pregnant with Kiara, about four different
examiners interviewed me, one after the other.
Each one treated me like I was just another dumb-ass
teen who fucked up her life and expected society
and them personally to pay for it. The first woman,
a sistah at that, came in playing this head game
with me asking me all these questions, then after
what seemed like an hour- tells me that I didn't
qualify. Didn t qualify...for welfare?
Hopeless and humiliated,
tears rolled down my face as she stood up getting
ready to walk out of the room. Was it my tears,
or my bare assed emotions which compelled her
to sit back down at the table and decide that
I was actually indeed qualified for welfare. After
she walked out, an elementary school teacher of
mine walked through the door. Vapor, I remember
the word going through my mind. God, please turn
me into vapor so I can just disappear and float
away. The shinning star pupil, the kid with all
the potential being interviewed to qualify for
welfare by my former teacher. For him, being at
the welfare office was an upward career change.
For me, it was a downward life change. What do
you see when you look at me, I wanted to ask him,
but I didn't. His ignoring our past and acting
like I was a total stranger told me everything
I needed to know. He didn't acknowledge me as
his shinning star third grade student, and I didn't
acknowledge him either. After all those years,
was it possible that he simply forgot who I was?
Maybe, but the way he avoided my eyes and the
cold tension between us told me- he knew exactly
who I was. Just like I knew him. By the time the
third examiner came through the door, stripped
was how I felt. Stripped of self, stripped of
pride, even stripped of memory cause I really
don t even remember the interview. That part remains
a blank.
...COLLECTING
MY PROPS.. June had come, and it was the day I
had anticipated for so long. Finally, I was graduating.
My parents were very proud that I had finished
high school. They hoped I d attend the community
college in the fall.
Mom drove some of
us in her car, dad piled some in his, Tim drove
his own car, and Jimmy, his wife, Sharon and their
girls met us at the high school. It was wonderful
having them all there for me. Kiesha took the
girls as I joined my class in the center of the
football field. It was decorated with hundreds
of flowers. It wasn't long before the commencement
ceremony began. Our principal Mr. Jones began
his speech about us entering the real world -
what a laugh, I was already in it.
Two weeks prior to that night, Mrs. Palmer called
me into her office and gave me a pleasant surprise.
She informed me that she wanted to give me an
award. Blown away, I gladly accepted, but didn't
tell my parents about the award. I wanted them
to be surprised. Mrs. Palmer approached the podium.
This award is entitled Academic Achievement While
Overcoming Insurmountable Odds. It was founded
for students who do not have the ideal surrounding
conducive for their studies. In today s society
a lot of our youth fall through the cracks, and
some of them are lost to us forever. And then
we have some shining stars who, regardless of
their situations, somehow excel. This year I have
chosen a special young lady to present this award
to. She, at the tender age of seventeen, dropped
out of school to become a full-time mother of
two children. Although she admits that keeping
her studies up was difficult, she didn't give
up. Instead, with the support of her family, faculty
and friends, was not only able to comeback to
school, but she is graduating today within the
top ten percentile of the graduating class. This
special young lady, serves as a role model for
many of today s youth to prove that hard times
don t mean the end of the road, but that hard
times mean we have to be that much tougher in
our convictions towards excellence. This year
I am proud to present this award to Tamlyn Blake
for a job well done.
Standing up from
my seat, I paused before continuing my journey
to the podium. My heels were digging into the
turf and I was praying I didn't lose a shoe on
the way there. Thunderous applause from my classmates,
and the crowd hushed to a single shout of Go Tammy!
that sounded like Tim's big mouth. I laughed.
Mrs. Palmer had tears in her eyes. My mind went
back to the day that I walked into her office
with my babies, not knowing if I would ever see
this day. An overwhelming feeling of emotion took
over me. Falling into the cushioned embrace of
Mrs. Palmer, we held each other tightly and the
crowd applauded once more. Thank you, I said to
her. You deserve it Tamlyn. You really do. She
handed me a plaque that I raised high towards
my parents seat, and they waved proudly. The graduation
lasted two hours.
Tamlyn A. Blake,
a high school graduate. Yeah! I like the sound
of that. To celebrate the whole family drove to
PJ s Southern Styles, an all you can eat restaurant.
We took up an entire section by ourselves.
That Saturday night,
I went over to Jeannette's house. I had left a
note on my door to let Hassan know where to find
me. When he showed up, he had four tickets for
a party boat in Philly. He asked Bull and Jeannette
to hang out with us to help me celebrate my graduation
and nineteenth birthday since it was tomorrow.
"Well,
next year, I'll have my associates degree. But
after I'm finished with Mercer, I want to go to
a four-year college and get a BA in business."
Our eyes made contact with a roach crawling across
the wall. "I'm not going to be here long.
This is just a temporary stop on my way to bigger
things," she said jumping up and squashing
it with a shoe.
"Oh, is that
so!" I said knowing where she was coming
from. Even though I've never been inside other
parent's house, I've driven her by there on several
occasions. From the neat as a pin look of the
outside, I know the inside must have been nice
as well. Tammy definitely wasn't use to living
like this.
"Yeah, when
I'm in class, my instructors, they talk about
how it is in the corporate world, all that wheelin
and dealin, the big cash to be made, that's what
I want to do. I want to have a job in one of those
fancy buildings downtown, and wear expensive suits
and carry a brief case. Then my girls will be
proud of me, and my parents will see that I didn't
screw up my life."
"I'm proud
of you already." I told her and I was being
straight up.
"You are Hassan,
really?"
"Yeah, babe,
I am. You ain't sittin on your ass, givin up because
some brothah left you hangin' with two kids. One
of the things I noticed first about you, before
I even knew your name, was that you knew you weren't
suppose to be here."
"What do you
mean?"
"Anyone with
eyescould see it. When I first saw you at the
bus stop that morning, I fellin love with you.
You were loaded down, girl, carryin all those
bags, andthey looked heavy as hell. I watched
you get on the bus. You had to putall those bags
down on the ground and take Tianna out of her
stroller.Fold that damn thing up and put the kids
on the bus. Then come back andget your bags off
the street."
"Oh don't
remind me. I hated those mornings."
Tammy buried her
face in my arm.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John
Colbirth
With fingertips
clawed to the hardwood floor and my body stretched
out straight as an arrow, I continued push-up
after push- up. Not counting but clearly over
a hundred done, sweat was pouring off of me creating
little puddles. The apartment was dimly lit, incense
burning and smooth jazz played in the background.
My think-music. I was fired up! Cursin Tammy out.
Just didn't want shit to do with her! Hell, she
was already set-up in her own place, getting money
from welfare. She was makin it. If I jetted, she
wouldn't be no more damn worse for wear. Positioning
myself for sit-ups, I clasped my hands around
the back of my head and started crunching my abs.
Yeah, that s what I m gonna do. If she can't listen,
then she on her own. That was her call, not mine.
Crunchin harder cause I wasn t feeling a muscle
burn that matched the rage inside of me, I closed
my eyes as the picture show in my mind began.
No! No, John! Don't do this! Shut up woman! This
is my mothah fuckin house! And if I can t be the
man in my own goddamned house then I ll get the
fuck out! I never said you couldn't be the man
in this house. I just said that you have to respect
this house. You get off from work at four o clock
in the evening. Why you got to come home after
midnight? John I know what you be doing out there.
Is respecting your home, your family too much
to ask of you?! Well I got me a new damn family.
And guess what, she way younger and finer way
than you. Her pussy tighter and she don t tell
me no! John! Watch your damn mouth! Hassan sin
the other room! No, you watch my mouth Judy, I'm
leavin you! What am I suppose to tell Hassan.
The boy is thirteen years old, goin through changes.
Now is the time he needs his fatttthhhheeerrr!
Tell him I went out for a loaf of bread! Girl,
I don t give a fuck what you tell 'im. Tell him
this was your fault.... My fault! I am- not- like-
my- father! I am-not-like-my-father! I-AM-NOT-LIKE-MY-FATHER!
Enraged I grabbed the brass leg of my smoked glass
coffee table I was seated next to and flipped
it over. Glass went flying everywhere. The ills
of my father s ghost were eating me alive. Hassan,
baby. Where you goin? I m goin to get him! He
can t talk to you like that! You don t know where
he is. Just let it be. No mom, I m gonna find
him and hurt 'im. I hate 'im! I hate im! Hassan.
Hassan! Don t hate him, he's your father. Love
him, always love him for showing you what type
of man NOT to be. Promise me you won t be like
him. Son, promise me. Standing there in front
of the broken glass, I felt like I needed to get
out and get some air quick before my entire house
got tore up. Grabbing a towel out of the closet
I dried myself off, got my keys and was out the
door.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
...progression...
Doctor Suri came
into the room with a tall slender, white woman.
"You gave us quite a scare there, young lady.
We had to work a long time on you. This is Dr.
Shirmanski, our staff psychiatrist. I brought
her to meet you, so maybe you can work through
the problems that got you here in the first place.
I'm going to leave now, but I'll come back through
to see how you're doing later." Dr. Shirmanski
sat down and asked me the usual questions: my
name, my age, my address. She seemed nice enough
but I wasn't in the mood. The perfume she wore
smelled rich and probably cost a fortune. "Tamlyn,
do you mind talking about what upset you?"
Talk, sure, I just wanted to blab it all out to
the world, but what was the point? "Tamlyn,
I know that it's not easy talking about what brought
you to the point of an attempted suicide, but
maybe we can walk through this together."
Becoming angry, I started to cry just thinking
about how everybody hurt me.
No way did I plan
to kill myself. It wasn't something I thought
about, it just happened. I still don't quite understand
why I did it. It just happened. Angry with the
whole freakin world, I let my frustration out
on her since she wanted to talk so damn much,
"I can talk about what happened until I'm
blue in the face, but it s not going to change
anything!" How dare this white lady, with
her sixty-dollar perfume and probably the perfect
family in a house with a white picket fence, come
in here and assume that she could help me.
"Tamlyn, I
can come back later. I'm here for you. I'm going
to leave my number. We have meetings every Wednesday
night at seven, right here at the hospital. You
will be surprised how much talking out your problems
really can help."
What was her problem, I wondered? Wishing she
would just leave and take her let's talk with
her. Ready to argue, my pain turned into words,
"Talk about how I messed up my life, how
I have two kids and one on the way that I can't
even take care of. Or would you like to hear about
my man's other pregnant girlfriend." I burst
into tears. "My life ain't shit, lady, so
how is talking going to help me?" Turning
my backto her, I asked her to leave my room.
"Tamlyn, please
give me a call. Whenever you're ready. I will
be here for you." She left a business card
and a pamphlet on the night-stand then left. Once
again drowning in misery, I cried loudly. The
nurse came in and told me to calm myself down.
She said that if I stayed upset I would upset
the baby. Well what about me, I wondered?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Women!
The water was so
hot coming out of the steamy shower that it stung
my skin like crazy. Taking the bar of soap in
my hands, I lathered it up working it in my face,
scrubbing my scalp. With eyes closed tight, I
stood under the showerhead with my mind reeling.
I was trying so hard to redeem myself with Tammy.
Trying to prove to myself that I was a better
man than my dad. My promise was that I would take
care of her, and that's just what I planned to
do. I don't know what point Debbie was trying
to make by coming over here talking to my girl.
Shaking my head, I couldn't but think at how sloppy
my shit was between Tammy and Debbie. I knew I
had to tighten things up. First Tammy stormed
over to Debbie s now Debbie dissin my crib all
up in Tammy s face. Shit had gotten absolutely
out of hand, and I was lookin weak. Turning off
the water I grabbed a towel from the rack drying
myself as I walked into my bedroom. Tammy was
stretched across the bed holding my pillow looking
like a sad-faced clown. She wouldn't even look
at me.
"What's wrong
babe?"
"Hassan, you
tell me!"
"Tell you
what?" I sat on the bed next to her then
threw the towel on the floor.
"What's up
with you and Debbie? She's carrying your baby,
then she's gonna stroll in here and feel that
she has the right to tell me that she's not going
to leave you."
"Tammy..."
"No wait.
When we first started talking, you told me that
she was not an issue in your life. Now she is.
Everything is so complicated, Hassan."
"Tammy, I
told you that I was gonna take care of you, and
I'm gonna do just that.
Debbie's blowin smoke, don't even breathe it in."
"Do you love
her, Hassan?"
"I'm
here with you, ain't I?"
"Yeah, but
do you love her?"
"Look, I love
who I'm with, and who am I with?"
"Me."
"That's right
baby, and don't you ever forget that. I'm gonna
talk to her, and she ain't gonna bother you no
more, okay?" Leaning over, I kissed her on
the lips. Tammy put on a little smile for me.
Hateem was three weeks old today, and Tammy looked
as good as she did before she got pregnant. She
was wearing bikini underwear and my T-shirt. Sitting
there naked, my horse started to rise up. "But
you gotta take care of me first. I'm in need babe."
"Hassan, I'm
bleeding."
"On to Plan
B' then." Tammy got the bottle of lotion
and squeezed a glob into her hand massaging me
until I exploded.
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