I posted this on my Facebook Page a few days ago. Since then, I have had several people contact me who want to start an open dialogue. I am posting it here because so many have asked. It is in “rant form” so there are no paragraphs.
I wish we would just be honest that racism exists. It has only been one generation since separate drinking fountains, since racist policies on college campuses (including our own University of KY where we have the gall to be planning a new arena that will carry the same name of a known racist just because he won ball games), since the ugliness of our country’s underbelly was exposed to the world. It is naive to think all of that went away over night. Can we have some honest conversation that is not sensationalized, following a tragedy, or as a result of some forced “sensitivity training” in the workplace? Can we walk a mile in the shoes of another and admit that in our own hearts there is need for confession of our own hidden racism, reconciliation, forgiveness, and grace? Can we read Michelle Alexander’s brilliant book “The New Jim Crow” with a group of our friends that look different than us and begin to demand of ourselves that we expel everything privileged in our backgrounds and look to what is happening to our neighbors? When white people stop telling me in surprised tones that I am “So well spoken”, when we stop clutching our purses tighter and locking our doors when we see a group of black men approach, when we can all appreciate the culture of one another and show interest in one another’s histories, when we can stop negating the obvious, when people no longer make racist, insulting, and elitist comments like “they just voted for him because he is black”. Are you saying black folks are too ignorant to vote on the issues they believe in to choose their candidates?, When people stop asking me how my husband’s parents feel about him being married to a black woman, when my black friends can stop beginning sentences like “You know how white folks are”, when we as the black community can stop holding our breath and praying it isn’t a black man on the news, when the news media begins announcing, vilifying, and showing photos of white executives of companies who murder the world over and never serve a day, when we stop displaying paintings of Jesus (who was a middle eastern Jew) in our churches and books with blonde hair and blue eyes (the Word says he had no appearance that stood out. I think a blonde haired-blue eyed Middle Eastern would have stood out), when we stop using words like “illegal aliens” when the Europeans who stole this land from Native Americans are the real illegal aliens, when we stop saying things like “I don’t see color” because you should…and you should embrace it as a beautiful representation of the diversity of love, when we remove from our conversations unnecessary descriptors when pointing someone out like “that black guy over there and that white girl”, when the Confederate Flag is no longer a novelty (seriously, do we wave flags of other lost battles? If so, where is our Vietnam War Flag with the slogan “heritage not hate”. Yes, it is hate to an entire population of your country who was terrorized, lynched, raped, murdered, and beaten by people waving that flag. Out of respect for what happened to them and the fact that you KNOW that it creates such visceral feelings of pain for another human being to see that flag, why on earth would you fly that?), when Danny Glover and Jay-Z can get a cab in NYC (and any other black man who wants to), when our “special ed” classes, our Foster homes, and our prisons, are no longer filled with over-representations of tan and brown faces, when brown and tan kids get less scholarships for sports and more for Science, Technology, and Math, when we stop perpetuating systems and laws based on keeping “them” from getting what we’ve got, when missing children who are black remain top stories in the media just as long as white missing children, when senseless deaths stop occurring because of the amount of melanin in someone’s skin, when we can admit hatred on all sides of racism work through it with one another, and come out on the other side whole and complete…that is when there will be no more racism in America.
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As has become my custom on weekday mornings, today I found myself walking at the Arboretum at 6:00AM. The Arboretum is a stunning two miles of paved ground winding around (and through) one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen. Wildflowers of every hue from boastful yellows like the indigenous “Black-Eyed Susans” to the muted milky elegance of the Hibiscus, become personified in the morning dew. It is a sight to behold as the gardens begin to awaken and seemingly reenact Debbie Reynolds, Gene Kelly, and Donald O’Conner’s ”Good Mornin” number in the musical “Singing in the Rain”. They are joined in this revelry by expansive red and white Oak Trees, whispering prairie grasslands, and vibrant roses as together they rise like sleepy Phoenixes from the fog reminiscent of a scene from some film set in England on the Moors. I would get lost in the beauty of the moment if it weren’t for the circumstances of my visit to this place.
Every morning when the alarm on my cell phone goes off, I want to throw it across the room. Then, I remember why I am rising at 5:30AM and not only do I want to throw it, I want to stomp on it too. As I stealthily walk out into the hallway I’m careful not to wake my husband. In his sleeping bliss, he has no clue how close the aforementioned cell phone comes to bouncing off his slumbering head in the phone throwing, phone stomping fantasy I am developing in my mind. Seething with jealousy I quickly pull on my workout clothes which consist of a pair of blue breathable athletic pants with an appropriate baby blue stripe going down each leg, a bright red “Invisible Children” shirt boasting the slogan on the back ”Every War Has an End” and my walking shoes, and head out with my water bottle and cell phone in each hand.
It has taken me a long time to get to this point. I’ve stopped and started more diets and workout routines than the number of flavors at Baskin Robbins. I’ve had at least 6 die hard workout buddies who claim to have the same goal of seeking a healthy lifestyle as me quit faster than you can say “Pastry sale at Magees Bakery”. One by one they offered accountability and partnership and as soon as I really started to lose weight and hit my stride…they decided perhaps this “workout” thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not one of them is exercising to this day. I have allowed myself to even use them as an excuse for not getting healthy. “Poor me. I can’t exercise without an accountability partner so I might as well do nothing”. Yes, it really does sound lame written out like that doesn’t it?
So, why do I do it if I dread it? Why bother working out at all? I come from a family plagued by obesity. I grew up watching my mom try every diet and exercise program available from eating only hot dogs and cabbage for one diet, to some soup only menu thing that smelled awful, followed by the Atkins craze, SlimFast, and Weight Watchers. I saw her succeed with Jazzercise only to end up right back in the same cycle that I have learned to perpetuate. Get excited, get dedicated, practice extreme discipline, get bored, get busy, and fizzle out. Guilt. Shame. Giving up completely. And then, we begin all over again. But, I want something different this time. I want to live without the diabetes that is breathing down my back begging permission to access my body while holding a sign saying “But, I run in your family. It’s only a matter of time”. I want to have babies and run and jump with them. At 36 years old, I am careening into my 40′s never having worn a bikini in my life . I want to walk up a flight of stairs without being winded. And, as much as I dread the idea of what my husband calls “real camping”, he adores it and I want to share it with him…peeing in the woods and all . I’m no “sissy” so-to-speak. I have survived Africa and all manner of living situations. I just happen to think it is not a crime to be comfortable when camping. A nice KOA with some port-o-potties, a blow-up bed, perhaps some showers. Is that too much to ask? Well, it’s not “real camping” to hubby until compasses, survival skills, and leaves are involved. But, huffing and puffing up some obscure mountain kinda takes the picturesque romance right out of the whole thing.
I’m going to tell you a big secret. Fat people know they’re fat. Or at least I should say we know “we’re” fat. It is no surprise to us. It is also no surprise to the 40 Billion dollar a year diet industry selling us miracles like some Snake Skin Oil salesmen in some old Western. They literally thrive on obesity. Diet pills. Diet meals. Exercise equipment most people in their right minds know will never work. But, desperation breeds blindness and before you know it some infomercial promises become hopes to be dashed. Radio spots on popular stations offer us “Lose weight fast” dreams and millions of people fall for it a year. The truth of why I get up early every morning is that the only thing that will work long term is slow consistency and that just ain’t all that sexy. Eating less. Eating more vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. Burning more calories than you take in. And, building muscle are slow and painful processes that net real results…in time. I do this because I refuse to believe a risky surgery is worth more than merely taking care of what God has already given me. I do this because all of the excuses in the world have finally caught up with me and they want to hog tie me to the railroad track of heart disease, diabetes, or other debilitating diseases and I say “I don’t even think so sucka”!
Statistically speaking, I was a bit surprised to find out that I have the double whammy. According to the Center for Disease Control an overwhelming 51% of obese people are black and among that number the majority are women. The next highest demographic is Hispanics. Hmmm. The highest rates of incarcerated folks are black and Hispanic. The highest rates of poverty in America are blacks and Hispanics. The highest rates of disenfranchised and marginalized folks are…you guessed it. Black and Hispanic. The most restricted access to fresh and healthy foods happens in which neighborhoods? And the hits just keep coming. So, I’ve decided to stop playing into the “slave” mentality and do something about it.
You may see the above as a bunch of excuses. My family, my workout partners, and now…society? Yes, I blame all of that and more. Unrealistic Barbie Doll measurements aside, I do think society has much to do with obesity. Marketing high fat, high sugar items to children to purposefully create dependence is deplorable and yet no one has ever been held accountable. Removing recess in favor of test scores? Hello! We can’t succeed if we’re dead, people. High fructose corn syrup, huge portions, and the mixed messages of thin thin thin over “healthy and active” perpetuated by the media is enough to confuse anyone. Just because you’re thin does not mean you’re healthy. Where are those magazine covers and celebrities?
But, personal responsibility is what I am taking. I have surrounded myself with role models who believe in healthy, fresh, organic, and reasonable portions. Folks who choose to walk or ride their bikes rather than drive if the location is within 5 miles of their home. Friends who are teaching me that Greek Yogurt with fresh raspberries tastes a million times better than a Hershey’s chocolate bar. Friends who grow their own food because they are tired of the government allowing us to be poisoned on a regular basis in the name of commerce. And, I am listening. There are many external causes to obesity including psychological, physiological, sociological, and environmental reasons. But, only I can control what I take in. Garbage in. Garbage out. I take full responsibility for my missteps up until now.
As I walked this morning I encountered two women together several times on the trail. They were running and they both smiled at me and said “good morning” on the first round and “hi again” on the second. The last time they passed I remarked “One day I will be as fast as you ladies”. The one closest to me replied matter of factly and with authority”One day you will be running”. With all of the negative messages I have received, this is the one I choose to hold on to. For those of you who are a distinct minority in our culture, the ones who have managed to have their brains wired properly from the beginning knowing how to achieve optimal health, the ones with access to healthy and fresh foods surrounded by people who knew how to prepare them and taught you too as well, please do not dismiss the weight (no pun intended) of this declaration. It is not easy to change your mindset after years of wrong thinking. It is not easy to overcome self-esteem issues and disastrous self-talk that says “I will just fail again”. It is not easy to resist the loud voices of a society inherently designed to keep certain people “in their place”. And, it is far from easy to look yourself in the eye and say “you are worth this and one day you’re gonna run”. Fat people who try again are more resilient than people who don’t. We’ve failed so many times yet we get back up again, dust ourselves off, and are willing to do it all over again.
After my walk this morning the words on the back of my workout shirt have a new prophetic meaning. ”Every War Has an End”.
Be sure to keep up with this blog as I begin to post in the new “Healthy Torps” section if you are interested in my journey towards health and fitness.
Some of you know that we are no longer planning on heading back to Uganda anytime soon. For others this may be quite a shock. What happened? Didn’t God tell them to go? Aren’t they traveling around doing speaking engagements to raise awareness and money? What has changed? This blog is an attempt to answer all of these questions and more.
When we returned from Africa we were so pumped to move. We had such an incredible desire to return to the place we came to know as home, and we still do. We know that one day, God will open the doors to make that happen. But, for right now we are where we should be. We have put down roots, we have engaged the community and they have engaged us right back. We have sought wise counsel and we do not feel right about it at this time. We have a lot to learn about being a couple as newlyweds.
We have also done a few speaking engagements and raised only about $300.00. We need $48,000 to move there for the 4 years we wanted. If you were someone who donated to the cause, fret not. We will use the funds to bless Zion Project or keep the funds there for short-term trips we may take. You will be contacted individually so that you can tell us what you would like us to do with the money.
There is still an incredible relationship with Zion Project as well. We pray for Uganda daily and I still hold the position of Prayer Coordinator for the organization. Once per month I organize a call with people around the U.S. who are dedicated to praying for Uganda and Zion Project. Additionally, I am helping Zion Project from the U.S. as a Volunteer Coordinator. I have interviewed and reported back to Sarita, the Executive Director, on a potential long-term volunteer. I will continue to work in that capacity for Zion Project because it is greatly needed. If you are interested in working there as a long-term volunteer, please contact me.
We know we heard from God. We know one day we will go. However, the timing is not now. Please continue to pray about endeavors that God would have us to do. I had a job interview today with plenty of potential to match all of my passions, including my love for Uganda. It would be a way to engage the community and make a real difference. I am also continuing to work with girls in the East End to recognize their full potential and to Be Bold!
We covet your prayers and thank you for your love in the waiting.
