On Lovenotes

More good reading for Joan Morgan's book. In one chapter she reminds herself and us of some key rules when it comes to love and dating:

"I'm over it. The next time some dude tells me he doesn't deserve me, I'm gonna assume he knows what he's talking about and head toward the nearest exit...

I will not fall in love with a man's potential.

When it comes to romance, sistas need to eliminate the words "if only" from our vocabulary...Potential is a relationship between an individual and God. When it comes to life's lessons, people learn the lesson when they're damn good and ready to receive it -and that's usually not a second before the good Lord sees fit. All the loving, pushing, willing, cajoling, nagging, or threatening in the world won't get two year olds to act like they're twelve. And it doesn't work on grown men either...

I'm going to make God the main man in my life.

When me and God's relationship is right, everything else just kinda falls into place..."

-Joan Morgan

I Have Arrived...in Asia

I've safely arrived in Hong Kong. Missed our connecting flight to Manila and so have a little bit of time to update on my trip. Please enjoy this photo of my poor, sleep deprived brother in the HK Airport (in his faux harem pants).

Even though I'm only in Hong Kong, I've already started to experiences some of the familiar feelings and sights that let me know that, "Yep, you're going to the Philippines."

The first was actually in Newark Airport where I could pick out the few Pinoy faces at the gate for the flight to HK. As I was speaking on the phone with a friend, a small, older Filipino man with dark skin and wrinkles etched deeply in his skin (the best) nonchalantly walked over to the garbage can and proceeded to shoot a snot rocket into the garbage can while folks walked by. Now, I'm not saying that this incredibly attractive practice is solely owned by my people, it just really fit. lol. I just shook my head, smiled, and watched him walk back to his equally small, older, wrinkled wife who was sitting curled up in one of the chairs.

After 15 hours of fabulous flying (not really, but I did watch like, 4 movies in a row) we landed in HK and immediately after touching the ground, a few people (all Asian) in our cabin proceeded to unbuckle themselves and get up. Of course, the stewardesses started yelling at people to sit down. It's so funny to me! This happens EVERY TIME I fly to Asia. Again, I shook my head, smiled, and watched them sit their little butts back down.

When we alighted from the plane, we were immediately taken to a Cathay Pacific desk. We had missed our 8pm flight with our late departure and short layover. The most difficult familiar sight was the OFW (Overseas Filipino Workers) line. Two LONG lines of Filipino men who work overseas to send money home to their families. Every time I see those lines, those faces, I'm reminded of the Asian immigrants to the West Coast of the U.S. -no women, no rights, hard labor, little money, and only memories of home, short visits if they're lucky. Of course, they sounded as though they were mostly in good spirits, chatting and joking with one another, but I just shook my head and turned away. The similarity to the late 1800's and early 1900's was just too much.

Now, sitting at the gate waiting for our connecting flight, I'm surrounded by Filipinos -a few families and mostly male OFWs holding bags from Duty Free to bring home. There is a good looking family sitting a few rows away from me -an extended family of course with two or three kids. The boy looks around 12 and the girl maybe 11 or so. I listen to them speak in Tagalog and my heart clenches. The boy addresses his mother, says one word and points distinctively with his lips to a bag he wants to lean on. Without words, she shifts the bag and her body so that he can lay back to try to sleep. It's probably the cutest thing I have seen in the longest.

There will be a second round of these encounters once we arrive in Manila, about 3 hours from now. I'm looking forward to being back, but I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. As I was looking at myself in the mirror of the airplane lavatory, I shook my head and thought, "What are you doing, Biba?" At the same time, I'm finally starting to feel excited by the prospect of being here in the PI for four months. The past month has been lots of anticipation and tons of mixed emotions.

This is an amazing opportunity that very few people EVER have. There are so many things I can do. I know there's a reason for this. I know God wanted me here, even if only for a short time. I'm hoping I learn what I'm supposed to in the four months that I'm here. I'll keep writing, you keep reading, and we'll both see how the re-education goes.

On Feminism for Brown Girls Today!!

"More than any other generation before us, we need a feminism committed to "keeping it real" We need a voice like our music -on that samples and layers many voices, injects its sensibilities into the old and flips it into the old and flips it into something new, provocative, and powerful. And one whose occasional hypocrisy, contradictions, and trifeness guarantee us at least a few trips to the terror-dome, forcing us to finally confront what we'd all rather hide from.

We need a feminism that possess the same fundamental understanding held by any true student of hip hop. Truth can't be found in the voice of any one rapper but in the juxtaposition of many. The keys that unlock the riches of contemporary black female identity lie not in choosing Latifah over Lil' Kim, or even Foxy Brown over Salt-N-Pepa. They lie at the magical intersection where those contrary voices meet -the juncture where "truth" is no longer black and white but subtle, intriguing shades of gray." -Joan Morgan

Thank Leigh-ness that she handed me this book, When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost. It's an oldie, but goodie, and came at a moment when I was ready for it. It has flipped the script in so many ways and talks about a feminism of love, brotherhood and sisterhood. It's not angry, but acknowledges much of the pain that both men and women go through and how all of it contributes to our interactions with one another. Pick it up!!

On My Way

Going to the Philippines this week!! This is going to be my week at home before my departure. Classic:

On Speaking

Recently read part of Audre Lorde's "Transformation of Silence." It was beautiful. In my departure, even for only a few months, my goodbyes make me want to speak of my love to and for all the people in my life who make it what it is. Lorde said,

"...it is necessary to teach by living and speaking those truths which we believe and know beyond understanding. Because in this way alone we can survive, by taking part in a process of life that is creative and continuing, that is growth."

Speak. Love. Always.

My Dungeon Shook

"...here you were: to be loved. To be loved, baby, hard at once, and forever, to strengthen you against the loveless world. Remember that: i know how black it looks today, for you. It looked bad that day, too, yes, we were trembling. We have not stopped trembling yet, but if we had not loved each other none of us would have survived.

And now you must survive because we love you, and for the sake of your children and your children's children." -James Baldwin

On Fatherhood...or the Lack Thereof

"My father didn't even leave me flip flops. How am I supposed to fill his shoes?" -Emanuel Candelario

Changing Education Paradigms

The release of Waiting for Superman has greatly increased discussion around what's wrong with the public education system. Having worked in public schools for a few years, I'd been having that discussion for a while, but mostly with folks who already knew! I recently received an email forwarding this awesome animated video (can you tell I love animated videos?) analyzing the history and issues in public education today. Much of it, you already know, but the video is pretty entertaining and well done!

Sincerely, Jane

You have got to love the social commentary in Janelle Monae's Sincerely, Jane. The sound, the lyrics, the voice -perfect!

Come Back, Goapele

I have adored Goapele for the longest time!! Check her out singing Nothing Compares to You. This woman can blow and she is fine as hell -one of my singing sheroes fo sho!!!

What I Was Missing

In my entry about Esko's House, I describe what life was like growing up here in good, old, suburban New York with my Pinoy family. This weekend was my Dad's 60th Birthday and his party reminded me exactly what I had been missing the past nine years!!

The FamBam

The Cuzzos

Crazy Full Houses

Pinoy Home Cookin

Thank God for homecomings!!

On Sisterhood

"Sisterhood is not an entitlement. Sisterhood is a gift. It is something to be developed, honored, and respected." -Rachel Bagby

Excited for my training at The Brotherhood Sister Sol this week!

My Sister Myself part 1 of 2 @ Yahoo! Video

My Sister Myself part 2 of 2 @ Yahoo! Video

Back to Reality

I am so, so grateful for people who shake you up and remind you to snap back into reality. Sometimes, our focus becomes so myopic, we lose ourselves. I have good friends who help me take a step back and get some perspective, and for that I am truly blessed.

Biba's Boston: 2 -Esko's House

Biba's Boston: Number 2 -Esko's House

It is absolutely time for my last two entries in the Biba’s Boston series. I’ve been running behind on my own deadlines, trying to keep up with the new thoughts I’ve had around transitioning and education. I certainly couldn’t leave this series unfinished before allowing myself to completely delve into this new chapter of my life, though. And I definitely could not leave out my last two favorite places in Boston, Esko’s House and my old spot in Cambridge.

After the first 3-5 years of life in the United States, my parents moved us out of Queens and followed my uncle’s family and other Filipino families to a suburb of New York City. I spent my childhood in this suburb surrounded by family. While weekdays at school were predominated by Italian American, Irish American kids and teachers, American lunch food like hot open faced turkey sandwiches and fruit cups (wth?!), the English language, and navigating my own American identity, my weekends were full of Tagalog, adobo, Filipino BBQ, white rice, karaoke, Church and ballroom dancing.

Halloween with the Cousins

Cousin Pyramid

New Year's with the Fam

John Mikey and Goy's 8th Grade Graduation

My best friends were my cousins. Whenever I did not know what the hell to do with the foreign behaviors of the white kids around me or felt an inkling of rejection because of my difference, I always had my cousins to go back to. Those girls were my life blood, forreal. They are like my sisters because of the way we were raised. My parents rarely had to worry about what this parent or that parent was saying or doing when we were over because…they were our cousins!Family was and always has been life and it has quietly but powerfully defined the way that I understand and operate in life.

The Girls I Grew Up With

Fast forward to grad school at Boston College. I wasn’t living in a dorm anymore. Many of my closest friends had moved home or to other cities. My blood family was still in New York and my college family was scattered all over the country. That’s where Esko came in. The summer of 2005, I graduated from BC. But before I completely left the undergrad life behind, I participated in one of BC’s many “service trips” held in the spirit of Jesuit education. I had been chosen to go to Salvador in Bahia, Brasil, following the footsteps of my last partner who had gone on the trip the previous year. We would be working at an orphanage called Sementes do Amanha –Seeds of Tomorrow. When I went to the first meeting, who was there, but Eskedar.

The small community of color at BC made it so that we all knew each other. Sometimes this created a lot of “Save the drama for your mama” situations, but it was generally great because we were connected. Esko and I weren’t tight at the time. She had heard of me through one of my close friends and then we had taken a class on the Caribbean together. This was a class with one of the most mono-toned professors in the Black Studies department and was held after lunch hours in the building whose cafeteria was known for its fabulous fried foods. All this, in combination with my poor study habits and late night socializing and revolutionizing made for a great afternoon cat nap (I’m ashamed to say it, I really am.) While I was dozing off somewhere towards the back of the classroom with the other good for nothings, after walking into the class late because I had been finishing my last chicken tender, Eskedar was in the front, chipper as a puppy, taking notes, and participating in the little discussion that there was. I, of course, became known to her as the Filipino girl who would borrow notes because she slept during class.

Meighann, Me, and Esko in Salvador

Suffice it to say, I was happy to see my generous note taker at the first meeting. We had a great time in Brasil. Those trips make you love or hate people in a way and at a rate that you can’t get when you’re a roommate, friend, or acquaintance during the academic year. That was the start of our lifelong friendship, I guess. After that, I’d visit her during her senior year at BC while I was in grad school and the year after that I’d visit her as an RA while she was in grad school at BC and I was doing my first year of teaching.

It was during that first of year teaching that my partner and I broke up after three years of some serious dating. She, along with some of my other friends were there for me in a way that saved my life. While we didn’t talk about the situation too often since she didn’t really know my partner, she was there for me and our friendship grew. In all honestly, I can’t say exactly when our friendship turned into sisterhood…maybe she can tell you, but I honestly don’t remember. It was probably all those nights she forced me to sleepover at her dorm because she didn’t want to be alone in the O’Connell House and she had air conditioning in her room and she had a meal plan I could mooch off of. What can I say? I’m a shameful opportunist. Haha.

Me and Esko in Roatan, Honduras

That summer after she graduated, instead of sleeping over at her dorm, I started staying over at her house. And the summer after she taught in Honduras, I was again, always at the house. It was during those summers that I finally really spent time with her family. At first, her extended family smiled politely and asked about me in Amharic at family parties. Soon, I was there so often, her aunt wondered if we were dating. Technically, no, but we joked that we were since we were always together.

Esko and Mulu

Esko and Hailu

Mulu and Hailu at Costco

I became a regular –there for dinner, cleaning up after meals, grocery shopping, carrying groceries in from the car, showering in the mornings. Hailu and Mulu, her parents, became staples in my life. We didn’t talk too much, but we were always there. We’d sit and watch tv (my favorite is when Hailu turned to the Journey concert because of Arnel Pineda, the new Pinoy singer and made me watch it by myself or when we'd watch the Celtics games and Hailu would call Rondo "she") or I’d listen to and smile at their conversations in Amharic while Betti or Esko translated for me. Abush, her brother newly arrived from ET came to check out apartments with us when I was moving out of Brighton. My life wasn’t complete without teasing from her younger brother Abraham and I would call her older sister, Betti for advice.

Big Sisters in the House

Hanging with the Cousins

In the past year, while Esko has been living in Boston, I’ve grown even closer to them. Mulu was there listening when Rodley died. She gives me a look when she thinks I’m being silly.Hailu smiles in greeting when I get there. I come over without Esko being there just to say hi or bye if I’m leaving Boston.

My First Abesha Wedding

Foster Mom in Boston

The Womens

With the Aunties

It was there, in that Ethiopian household, a culture and family, completely different from my own that I found family in Boston. Their family, like mine revolved around the community.Their weekends were spent with one another with food, in prayer, in sorrow, and in celebration and Esko’s house was the center for much of those activities. And there I was, the random Filipino girl that was always tagging along behind Esko. They welcomed me into their home and made space for me in their lives and I will be forever grateful for the way that they filled that space I was missing while I was living in Boston. They became my family and they always will be.

My NY and Boston Fam!

This Thing

Remember the last time someone had you “trippin on their love?” Sometimes sweet, often bitter, always overwhelming.

Mourning and Hope

September was an intense month -shootings and suicides all over the country! What pain people are in –such young souls! Why does this happen? Why do young folks take their own lives? New York and Rhode Island, and Texas? How can people bully peers so viciously, without care of the consequences? How can four people, including a toddler be shot to death in Boston?

Sometimes, it makes me feel scared and almost hopeless for the world we live in, but we have to have faith that Love is on its way. As I drove down to New York, listening to Blues for the Horn by K'Naan and Love, On Its Way, by Corrine Bailey Rae, and thinking about all that had happened in the past few weeks, I was reminded in a powerful way, that despite all of the pain and ugliness of the world, we have to be the ones to work towards bringing Love to life everyday. It’s never too late. It can’t be too late.

Oh Father,
I wish I had understanding.
Never known more
Never been so well informed
We know the score
Heard it all before,
But I've never felt more powerless

There's so much blood on the streets
So much hope refused
So much grainy teenage photographs on the evening news

Oo, when everywhere's violence
Silently I go

Love's on its way
I hope it won't be too late

When the day comes
And I've counted all my sins
How many I'll see
I want to be able to say that I did more, more than pray
I did more
Than just spend my money
Just writing letters
Than just going out marching
I did more than talking and saying the right thing
Wearing the right thing
It's time for an uprising

Love's on its way
Hope it won't be too late

Love's on its way
Love's on its way
Love's on its way

Hope it won't be too late

Freedom in Flight

I do my best thinking and writing when I am literally travelling –on the bus, on a plane, or on a train. I am confined by space, but at the same time I am free to roam the innermost depths of my mind, free from the distractions of tasks, the internet, my phone, or even conversation with friends and family. While I fly over mountains, fields, rivers, and seas; ride tracks, or drive over miles of road, my thoughts travel to places that are difficult to access when I am standing still.

Here’s to the movement.

27 Reminders for My 27th Birthday

I'm beyond grateful to God, family, and friends for bringing me 27 years of joy and life. As my family and I were driving to The Castro-Oleksak Ranch this morning, I thought of how much I have been blessed to learn in my short 27 years. So here are 27 Reminders for My 27th Birthday!

1. Lead by example: Forreal now, girl. Shut your mouth and just do it.
2. Your friends and family are the folks that ride for you, no matter what.
3. You are a well-spring of love. Don't stop giving that energy to the world.
4. Recharge, recharge, recharge. Don't get lost in yourself and in this world. You were made for greater things and supernatural places.
5. The spirits are watching. Don't disappoint them.
6. God is Love. You don't do that. God does.
7. Your Mother is watching and guiding you always. Keep talking to her.
8. Your steps matter. Think carefully before you move.
9. Don't forget. Your history, your life, and the things that got you here.
10. But don't hold on to narratives and portions of your life that are just...over.
11. Make sacrifices. It will keep your soul pure and force you to look and listen to things outside your damned self all the time.
12. Listen. Listen. Listen. More than you speak.
13. Begin and begin again. You're a child of God. Not God. You make mistakes but that doesn't mean you can't get back up again. Falling is a reminder that you need to fix yourself -there's always room for repairs and improvements.
14. Respect people's mystery and hold on to yours. You don't have an all access pass to everybody's life.
15. Life isn't always happy endings. Sometimes, it just is.
16. Your body only uses what you need. So don't put in more than you need.
17. Practice makes permanent. You won't fix it later, you're fixing or faking right now.
18. You have been given much -more than you deserve. Be grateful and use it well.
19. Keep building bridges. Keep making connections. You were made to serve.
20. You can't help everybody, but you can always pray for them.
21. Some people were meant to stay and some were meant to go. Let them go.
22. Read, lest you forget how. Write -exercise the gift you've been given.
23. Timing is everything. Make sure you're ready.
24. Humility. You're important, but small at the same time. Most of the time, it's bigger than you, not about you, so let it go.
25. Don't be fooled by disguises. The worst things can come in the prettiest or even the most subtle packages.
26. People seriously suck sometimes....this includes you. Be hopeful, but don't put all your hopes in humans.
27. It's always your choice. Life doesn't have to be this way!
28. (For luck!) Sing, because you can!

won't you celebrate with me

won't you celebrate with me

by: Lucille Clifton

won't you celebrate with me

what i have shaped into

a kind of life? i had no model.

born in babylon

both nonwhite and woman

what did i see to be except myself?

i made it up

here on this bridge between

starshine and clay,

my one hand holding tight

my other hand; come celebrate

with me that everyday

something has tried to kill me

and has failed.

Happy Birthday to my fellow Libras.

Thanks to Leigh for this beautiful poem she found for her birthday!

Praise Meditation

You want your heart to pound with the beauty of it all? Listen to Stacy Epps' Praise Meditation from The Awakening. It's too good.