My Mother Is Adopted... And Other Sorted Stories

Mum & me (circa 1980)It all started-- for me-- when my father won a family trip to Senegal when I was around 10. I’d been out the country before, of course. But I was little so I didn’t need a passport. This time, I would.

So one day my mother picks me up from school and we go to the passport office. We stand in line, and I’m bored out of my mind as we wait. At the window, my mother slides an envelope of papers, my birth certificate and social security card and whatever else is necessary to prove I am who she claims I am, through the opening underneath the partition. Then, she slides a folder full of different documents for herself.

The person is sorting through them, punching the information into his computer as slow as humanly possible. I zone out thinking about whatever tweens think about. I hear him (or her?) ask a question, but I don’t remember what it was. My mother’s response is all that really matters anyway.

“I’m adopted,” she responds.

WHAT?!

I know what that means, that Grandma and Grandpa who I’ve spent every summer with in the Midwest as long as I can remember are not my Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma taught me how to iron and to make cinnamon rolls. I follow my Grandpa around like a puppy does its owner because I adore him as much as he adores me. They aren’t my grandparents?! Huh?

I jerk my head up to look at my Mom, who is steadily looking at the person behind the glass and ignoring me. I pull at her sleeve. “Mom. Mom! Mom!!!” She continues to ignore me until I give up.

I’m worried that I’ll never see my grandparents again. Because, you know, they’re not actually my grandparents. Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!

The adults have my rapt attention now. But no one’s talking. The person behind the window is typing and my Mom is just standing there looking, waiting, not answering questions. Finally, the teller slides two blue passports under the counter. My mom says “thank you” and walks off. I follow, not like I'm a puppy, but because I don't want to get left.

When we get in the car, Mum explains half the story. The short (and heavily edited) version: my Mom’s mom got pregnant as a teenager in the 50s. My grandparents adopted my mother when she was 3. She’s never technically met her biological mother, although when she was a kid a woman she thinks was her mother showed up at her parents' house once. All she knows is her bio-Mom’s name. Anita*. She knows who her bio-Dad is. And there’s way more to the story than that, but that’s where I’ll stop.

Yes, I’ll see my grandparents again, Mum promises. Nothing will change. Grandma and Grandpa are still my grandparents. They always will be. That’s all I care about. End of story… or so I think.

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The Grio: Beyoncé asks women to ‘bow-down’

I hate writing about Beyoncé. I do my best to avoid writing about Beyoncé. Mostly because she’s so polarizing, which means people love to love her or have already decided to hate her and nothing I say has the remote chance of swaying an opinion. If you love her and I critique her, I’m a “hater.” If you hate her and I don’t dutifully throw her under the cliched bus, then I’m a “stan” caught up in the swarm of her “Bey-hive,” the self-described name for her most devoted fans.

But I’m writing about Beyoncé today because I can’t avoid her. Earlier this week, she released a new song on the Internet, “Bow Down/I Been On,” and since then, every major site I frequent, from trashy blogs to high brow news, is talking about her and her new song. Is it  disrespectful to fans? Just fun? Hypocritical?  The jury is still out.

Rush Limbaugh, single-handedly the last person I expected to weigh in on these matters, interpreted the song, in which Beyoncé instructs “b***hes” to “bow down,” to mean Beyoncé has turned in her feminist card. “(Her older) songs were attempts to inspire young women not to take any grief from men,” Limbaugh said. “She’s done a 180… Because she married a rich guy . . . she now understands it’s worth it to bow down.” Admittedly, the lyrics could have many interpretations. I am positive this is not one of them.

Singer Keyshia Cole also weighed in, not so unexpectedly as she’s been on a Twitter rampage lately. (She blasted former Destiny’s Child Michelle Williams after her DC reunion performance at the Super Bowl.) “First ‘Women need to stick together’ now [b***hes] better Bow. Smh,” Cole tweeted on Monday. “Can’t stand when people [are] all self-righteous when it’s convenient… but can still talk s–t when convenient [too].”  Given Cole’s most recent salty behavior on social media, her opinion didn’t carry the weight it should have.

The thing is, Cole’s got a point. Beyoncé has built her entire career on feel-good sisterhood lyrics — from “Independent Women” to “Who Run This World” — set to infectious beats.  Her songs became the unofficial soundtrack to Middle America’s Girl’s Night Out where women celebrated whatever the occasion is in “freek’um dresses,” patting their weaves  and mimicking the dance routine from the “Single Ladies” video at the club. In interview after interview, Beyoncé has extolled the virtues of having female friends. She even hired an all-girl band to drive home her all-girl-power-everything message.

And this is why it seems so… jarring, really, for Beyoncé, after 15 years in the game, to start calling fellow women “b***hes” and demanding that they “bow down” like they are her lowly subjects.

Read more: here

The Root: I Woke Up Naked In A Co-Worker's Bed

"Got drunk with co-workers after work one night. One guy, whom I trust and have built a friendship with, took me home. I woke up naked in his bed, vaguely remembering kisses. I've always turned him down in the past. What do I do?" --R.G.

Unfortunately, you don't know what happened, and you're not likely to find out unless you get the police involved, and/or your co-workers mimicked the Steubenville, Ohio, football players and their friends by documenting the night with texts, tweets and YouTube videos. More than likely sex did occur, since you "vaguely" remember kisses, and you know for sure that you woke up naked in your co-worker's bed.

Like you, I can't be sure what occurred based on the information you have, but if you were drunk, then you were not able to consent to any sexual acts that may have taken place. This would mean you were raped. I suggest that you report what information you have to the police and let them do their job of figuring out what, if any, crime took place.

That suggestion isn't going to go over so well, and I understand why. It may seem unfair to go to the police, accusing your co-worker of a crime when you aren't entirely sure if one was committed. But you're pretty sure something happened, and it's absolute that you were not able to consent to it.

You could go ask your co-workers what happened, and they might have some ideas to an extent. You could ask your friend, too, but you're not likely to get straight answers, especially since you woke up in his bed and seem to regret it.

This is why I'm sending you to the authorities, who can get answers you're not able to. Finding out what happened to you that night is much more important than ticking off your colleague because the co-worker is asked a few questions or even charged with a crime that he actually committed.

Read more: here 

PHOTOS: Cocktails With Belle (03.18.13)

Thank you to everyone who came out IN THE SNOW to celebrate Women's History Month with abelleinbrooklyn.com! GREAT night! Great times! 

Clutch: 5 Un-PC Things I’ve Been Dying to Say About the Steubenville Rape Case

I didn’t follow the Steubenville rape case. I heard the early details, knew there was so much more than what was being said, hoped the system would throw “the book” at the guys if for no other reason than to “make an example” of the guys, assumed (correctly) that wouldn’t happen, and then tuned out.

Forgive me, I have a personal history with this subject.

On Monday, as Clutch already covered here, high school football players Trent Mays, 17, and Ma’lik Richmond, 16, were found ”delinquent beyond a reasonable doubt” —the juvenile equivalent of guilty— of sexually assaulting a 16-year-old girl. Both boys were sentenced to at least one year in a juvenile detention facility, with Mays earning an extra year for posting pictures of the naked girl online.

The guys, teens, were tried as juveniles, which is the only reason I can assume CNN anchors practically offered them condolences on their sentence, and also that so much of the writing on this case has been incredibly PC, at least by my meter.

Forgive me if I’m habitually line-stepping, or even crossing here, by writing what I’m really thinking, but there are a few things I need to get off my chest:

1. Ma’lik Richmond is the Luckiest Black Boy Alive

This 1) Black kid—football player or not— in a 2) small, middle of nowhere white town who 3) was charged with raping a 16-year-old 4) white girl got tried as a juvenile and THEN when found “delinquent beyond a reasonable doubt” received the lesser time than his white co-defendant?!

A year for raping a white girl? Are we still in America?! ‘Cause a guilty Black man ain’t been this lucky since OJ (and really, that was luck, money, and Johnny Cochran’s skill as an attorney).

I watched Young Ma’lik’s courtroom sobbing about his life being over, which CNN found so heartbreaking (I keep mentioning it because I”m just that appalled by it.) Ma’lik needs a perspective check. He got off way easier than some people expected him to, or really, wanted him to.

2. Steubenville is Everywhere USA

It’s too convenient to look a Steubenville and deduce, “small town, sports-hero worship, nothing better to do, that would never happen in [insert bigger city here].” I’m reading so much finger-pointing at their little town, like it’s any different from anywhere else. Puh-lease. It’s a  travesty what was done to the victim. But this isn’t an unfamiliar story. (I’m sure, if challenged, the comments section could be filled with them.)

Read more: here

The Root: Should I Drop By Unexpected?

"I was dating a guy who told me he was having financial problems. Recently his cellphone was shut off. I have no other means of contacting him, and it has been a week. He lives in my neighborhood. Should I stop by or assume we are done?" --T.U.

Unless it's an emergency or a close family member or you have a key, you do not, under any circumstances, ever drop by someone's home unexpected. There's no telling what -- or who -- you might find there.

It's unfortunate that your friend has not been in touch, but it's 2013. If he wanted to reach you, he would. Payphones still exist. If he's working, there's definitely a phone at his job, and if he isn't, surely he knows someone who would let him use the phone long enough to call you to explain what's going on.

Maybe he didn't memorize your number, but it's really easy to log on to your phone provider's website and get last month's statement to find your contact information. There's also email, Facebook and Twitter. And even if all that failed, the two of you live in the same neighborhood. If you know where he lives, it's likely he knows where you are, too.

I do wish he had made the time to get in touch so that you could be clear on where you stand with him. But in the absence of words, you're going to have to go by actions -- which, really, are all that matter anyway. The old folks say, "Where there's a will, there's a way," and a man who wants to find you will make a way.

Since it's been a week and he hasn't tracked you down to explain or even to say hi, his actions say that he is either not interested, is too embarrassed or, to be fair, has more important things to worry about, like work and money so he can pay his bills. Whatever the reason, he's gone AWOL for a week. Be comfortable in going with the assumption that dating him is a wrap.

Read more: here