Who taught you love?

10 Nov

It’s my lunch hour so I hopped over to twitter, it always (sadly) shows me the worst in people, but occasionally it also shows the best.  There was a trending topic about black women, when someone remarked ” Why do we always tear our race down…” It got me to thinking, Do black people know how to love each other?

I’ll stick with my audience here, which is black women…do we know how to love each other? Do we even know how to be nice to one another?  We rip each other apart comparing bodies, skin color, hair type, clothes and designers, cars, men, etc but when do we ever congratulate each other?

Rev. Wakefield (old pastor from college) said “My friends don’t call me like they used to since I laid my burdens down.” People love to see you down. LOVE IT. It is not the mark of a friend, or a loved one when they are there to see you sad, and filled with gloom, sorrow, and mourning.  How many will be there to celebrate your joyous occassions? How many will be truly happy for you when you receive your blessings? How many will show up to share with you the desires of your heart coming to fruition??  THAT is friendship.  That is love. My question is, who taught black people to love?

Although if we trace our roots, slavery left a mark by tearing us apart physically, but our ancestors (in large part) refused to stop loving one another which is why the church holds such roots for us culturally, it was our family of choice when we had no family of origin.  Moving forward to the civil rights era, we bonded together to fight injustices and to overturn laws that kept us socially enslaved and powerless.  Once again, together in sadness, but then together overcoming.  I’m left then to think that when we were free, aka the modern black person, we started to get vicious.  Is there not “enough” for everybody that we have to “throw shade” on one another, belittling and condemning?  Do we think so little of ourselves that the only joy we get is in comparing ourselves to someone else we view as worse, and then not allowing them the satisfaction of acceptance?  Do we hate ourselves so much that we cannot begin to love each other?

There are exceptions, of course…so I ask them, who taught you to love?

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2 Responses to “Who taught you love?”

  1. Della Wilcox November 10, 2010 at 9:38 pm #

    I learned to love @ a very young age. Being born to an unmarried, teenage mother; I was reared by family. My mother had four sisters and three brothers and then there were the grandparents, grandma and grandpa. Each of these people give me apart of themselves and taught me to love myself. Their constant show of affection allowed me to know what true pure love was. Of course that’s not to say I haven’t made a few mistakes along the way; but, yes, I learned to love from family. When I think back about any negative feels I might of had about myself, I realize they came from outsiders. When I started going to public school I started to realize there were mean people out there that disliked me for no other reason other than my skin was a little to dark or my hair was just a little to short and kinky. Up until that time, I thought I was prefect. I knew I didn’t look like the people on tv, but who does? Of course I didn’t think much about it because right there behind the walls of my own home I was being told “you’re wonderful.” I didn’t know that there was something wrong with my kinky hair. I didn’t realize my lips were thick or that being in the sun was a no no because I might get a shade or two darker. I didn’t know any of this until some mean kid who never got hugged, felt it neccessary to inform me of all my short comings. But even then, when I told my mother she would say “No one’s better than you, you hear me. Those folks put on their pants one leg @ a time just like you.” And if you cut em, they’ll bled red blood too.” This I’ve believed all my life and when I allowed negative people to invade my space from time to time, I remember what my mama used to say and I release them from my existance and move on. I love myself to much to allow negative energy to occupy my space.

  2. GG November 12, 2010 at 4:39 pm #

    My family taught me love, but they also taught me fear. My mother and father loved me in everyway they knew how, and because of their love I am the lovething that I am now. However, they (more so my mother) inadvertently instilled a great deal of fear in me as well. She did this more by example than by dictation. My mother always felt judged and persecuted, and I could feel her feelings in the things she taught me, the way she taught me, the way she interacted and responded to others…I could go on and on about the ways that she showed her fear. So, while I always felt loved and cared for. I still grew up afraid.

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