I am not a huge veggie fan.
I should be. We grew up on fresh vegetables. Meat was a rare treat. Coming from a large family, mom had to make due with what we had and made our food do what it needed to stretch feeding 13 kids and a dad. Wow. Whew.
Mom would toss left over this, what in the fresh hell is THAATT!? and make super tasty meals. I never felt poor. We weren’t. We just did not have a lot of funds, let alone discretionary ones.
We learned the valuable lesson of enjoying life with little in the way of material things. We were our own company. Since there were so many of us, we had our own ⚾, basketball 🏀, 🏈 teams.
We would have track races, in the middle of the street. We would line up, on the painted white lines. Straining, taunting, deliberating over who would win the race.
Two combatants, the other bros/sis lining the street, on both sides, cheering on the fierce gladiators.
Ready.
Set.
Go!
Hooting with laughter, feet pounding hot pavement, us Scott’s would be about it, doing our level best to defeat one another.
Sometimes, us young ones raced each other. Leaving the older siblings to duke it out.
Other times, us ALWAYS picked on little sis and bros would challenge the others.
YYYAAAAAAAAAAASSS!🥰
I appreciated being raised healthy. Over time, alas, I used long work hours, being lazy, fifty million other reasons to grab junk/fast food. Fast food has a way of killing your act right real fast!
Slowly, I have been getting back to vegetables. I love green beans so no problem. It’s the rest of the lot that peer forlornly at me, longing to be chosen.
A bit ago, I reluctantly ordered two cans of black eye peas. When they arrived, I shoved those bad boys to the back of the cabinet. They have forever been hollering me to add them to my meal prep.
Tired of their accusatory look and carrying on, I drug them out of the tomb, from whence they came and sadly, poutedly, pointedly sniffed my way into tossing some nasty, black eye peas, to my meal prep. Supposedly, black eye peas are considered to bring prosperity, financially, when eaten for the new year or some kind of yearly ritual situation.
Making sure NOT to kill two poor, innocent birds, with one stone, I decided today would be the day to add a bit of nasty to my diet. Who knows? They may help me beat some young, muscular, possible marriage material hunk, as I get about getting my health life in order.
I shall jog, discreetly, allowing aforementioned muscular, young stud to sweep this 54 year old ready for love young lady off her nasty eating feet.
*Thinking of her love of a name she just did not know, Cassandra dropped her writing and got to getting some nasty in her diet.*
Ready.
Set.
I go!
Come with me.
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
- 🎬 MAYBE THEY WEREN’T “TOO BLACK.” MAYBE I WAS STILL HOLDING THE RULER. 🪑🔑Beloveds,I told you I caught myself watching Black romance movies and thinking:Too loud.Too boisterous.Too Black.😳And the Holy Spirit convicted me.Then I watched Deliver Us from Eva.WHEW.👀Because suddenly I wasn’t only watching Eva.I was looking at the ruler I sometimes used to measure everybody.Let’s start with Eva.She’s intelligent, professional, beautiful, protective, loving, bossy, controlling, loyal and complicated.All of it.🔑She doesn’t have to become either the Angry Black Woman Who Needs Taming or the Strong Black Woman Whose Every Choice Must Be Defended.Eva needs correction AND Eva deserves dignity.She helped raise her sisters after their parents died. Protection became part of her identity.But eventually protection sometimes became control.⛓️ If I don’t manage everybody, everything will fall apart.🔑 I can love grown people without controlling grown people.Her sisters need a key too.You cannot keep handing somebody the clipboard to your life and then get mad because she keeps writing on it.🤣Eva has to stop managing.Her sisters have to start owning.Everybody gets a chair.🪑And YES—THE MEN TOO.🤣🪑🪑🪑🪑Ray begins by deceiving Eva.That matters.But eventually “the problem” becomes a person to him.Eva.And Ray changes.🔑 Sometimes genuinely knowing somebody destroys the caricature we created from a distance.But Ray deserves his own humanity too.He’s working, dreaming, saving, flawed, funny, romantic, masculine and tender.He doesn’t need to become a CEO before he’s worthy of love.There’s that ten-times-better ruler again.👀Then Mike.Mike has a legitimate frustration with Eva’s interference.His solution?SIR. SIT DOWN.🪑🤣Because here’s another key:🔑 A legitimate grievance does not automatically make every remedy legitimate.Pain deserves acknowledgment.Choices still require accountability.Then Tim made me ask:What does a Black man have to look like before we consider him “man enough”?Dominant?Always in charge?Never soft?Never uncertain?Why?Tim doesn’t need more masculinity.He needs his voice.🔑A loud Black woman shouldn’t have to shrink.A quieter Black man shouldn’t have to perform dominance.Both get chairs.And Darrell?🤣Some people are intellectual heavyweights.And some people are…Darrell.🤣❤️HE GETS A CHAIR TOO.Intelligence isn’t the admission price for dignity.Sophistication isn’t the admission price for love.Black people are allowed to be ordinary.Goofy.Messy.Wrong.Funny.Tender.Brilliant.Ridiculous.Rich.Poor.Loud.Quiet.Human.And suddenly the Holy Spirit’s conviction went deeper.Maybe I had become nervous when Black characters weren’t representing us “well enough.”What will THEY think?Why are they so loud?Why aren’t they more polished?More educated?More professional?More respectable?More…acceptable?😳And suddenly I’m not watching a movie.I’m conducting a performance review of Blackness.⛓️That’s exhausting.Because Black characters should not have to carry the reputation of an entire people on their backs.And sometimes, without realizing it—we help load the backpack.That was part of what the Holy Spirit showed me.Not merely:Cassandra, look at them.But:Cassandra, look at your ruler.👀Who handed it to you?Why are you still carrying it?And I knew part of the answer.Ten times better.There was love and survival inside what Black folk taught me.They were preparing me for an unfair world.But:“You may have to be ten times better to receive the opportunity”can quietly become:“Black people SHOULD be ten times better.”NO.❤️🩹I reject that.Black excellence is beautiful.Black dignity is unconditional.Eva gets correction and dignity.Ray gets tenderness and accountability.Mike gets frustration and responsibility.Tim gets quietness and voice.Darrell gets goofiness and dignity.The sisters get love and agency.Nobody has to become less Black.Nobody has to become ten times more human.EVERYBODY GETS A CHAIR.🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑And maybe that’s what the Holy Spirit was really asking me:Cassandra, why are you still holding the ruler?😳My answer?I’m learning to put it down.🔑And maybe you have one too.Race.Education.Disability.Age.Money.Accent.Religion.Politics.Body size.Mental illness.Addiction.Sexuality.Somebody whose life simply doesn’t look like yours.Don’t perform an answer for me.Be honest with you. For, HIM.🙏🏿What ruler are you carrying?Who handed it to you?Who have you measured with it?Have you measured yourself with it too?And if the Holy Spirit is showing it to you, maybe He isn’t giving you the ruler so you can beat yourself with it.Maybe He’s saying:Child. You don’t need that anymore.Put it down.🔑❤️🩹Pull up your chair.🪑Let somebody else pull up theirs.And let people be fully human in front of you.Including—you.👩🏿🦼💃🏿❤️🔥🌎Asking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- 🎬 MAYBE THEY WEREN’T “TOO BLACK.” MAYBE I WAS STILL HOLDING THE RULER. 🪑🔑Beloveds,Yesterday I told you something uncomfortable.I told you that while watching Black romance movies, I caught myself thinking some of the characters were:Too loud.Too boisterous.Too…Black.😳And I told you that the conviction of the Holy Spirit made me look at what was happening inside me.Well.Pull up your chair.🪑Because then I watched Deliver Us from Eva.And this movie made me look again.Not only at Eva.At everybody.The women.The men.The relationships.The families.The careers.The foolishness.The love.The control.The tenderness.The Blackness.And especially the measuring stick I had sometimes been holding while watching people who looked like me.👀Let’s start with Eva.Eva is strong.Opinionated.Professional.Beautiful.Protective.Intelligent.Controlling.Loving.Bossy.Loyal.Interfering.Complicated.Notice what I just did?I let her be more than one thing.🔑She does not have to become either:The Angry Black Woman Who Needs TamingorThe Strong Black Woman Whose Every Choice Must Be Defended.Eva needs correction.And Eva deserves dignity.Both.She took on enormous responsibility for her sisters after their parents died.Care became part of her identity.Protection became responsibility.And somewhere along the way, protection sometimes became control.That happens.A survival skill can save us in one season and need adjustment in another.⛓️ If I don’t take care of everybody, everything will fall apart.🔑 I can love grown people without controlling grown people.But Eva isn’t the only person who needs a key.Her sisters do too.Because you cannot continually hand somebody the clipboard to your life and then be shocked that she keeps writing on it.🤣At some point:Eva has to stop managing.And:her sisters have to start owning.🪑🪑That’s relationship.That’s adulthood.That’s boundaries.That’s love without possession.And then there are the men.Oh, yes.ALL OF THEM.👀🤣Because I’m not giving the women full humanity and turning the Black men into props.Pull up some more chairs.🪑🪑🪑🪑Ray.Mike.Tim.Darrell.Come on in.🤣Let’s start with Ray.Ray enters Eva’s life because the men have concocted an absolutely ridiculous plan to get Eva out of theirs.Sir.🤣The plan involves deception.And deception matters.Eva believes she is encountering somebody genuinely interested in her.Ray knows information she does not.That is not equal agency.⛓️ Deception steals informed choice.But then something inconvenient happens to Ray’s little plan.Eva becomes a person.Not “the problem.”Not “that difficult woman.”Not the assignment.Eva.And Ray develops real feelings.That matters because stereotypes are easiest to maintain from a distance.Encounter complicates caricature.🔑 Sometimes knowing somebody destroys the story we were telling ourselves about them.But Ray deserves examination beyond Eva too.He’s a Black man.Working.Trying.Saving.Dreaming.Flawed.Funny.Romantic.Capable of deception.Capable of tenderness.Capable of changing.He doesn’t have to become a CEO before the movie lets him be desirable.👀There’s our ten-times-better rule again.Black excellence is beautiful.But ordinary Black life is beautiful too.A Black man’s worth is not his résumé.Neither is a Black woman’s.Then there’s Mike.Mike has a legitimate frustration.Eva’s involvement creates real strain.But listen carefully:A legitimate grievance does not automatically make every remedy legitimate.🔑Mike’s problem is real.His solution?Sir.Take a seat.🪑🤣He participates in manipulation instead of dealing honestly with the relationships involved.And that is something we can do in real life.We identify a genuine problem.Then because our hurt is legitimate, we assume whatever we do next must also be legitimate.Nope.Pain deserves acknowledgment.Choices still deserve examination.Then Tim.Tim made me think about another measuring stick:What is a Black man supposed to look like?Strong?Dominant?Always in charge?Never uncertain?Never conflict-avoidant?Never soft?Never overwhelmed by stronger personalities?Why?👀A quieter man does not need to become a caricature of dominance to become a man.Tim doesn’t need more masculinity.He needs more voice.🔑And there is a difference.Just as the loud Black woman shouldn’t have to shrink, the quieter Black man shouldn’t have to perform loudness to prove himself.Both get chairs.🪑🪑And Darrell.🤣Beloveds, some people are brilliant.Some people are sophisticated.Some people are intellectual heavyweights.And some people are…Darrell.🤣❤️And guess what?HE GETS A CHAIR TOO.Because intelligence is not the admission price for dignity.Sophistication is not the admission price for love.Black people do not have to become exceptional specimens before they are allowed to be funny, ordinary, goofy, imperfect and loved.And THAT hit me.Because maybe part of the hidden burden of “ten times better” is that we start becoming nervous when Black people on screen aren’t representing us “well enough.”👀Read that again.We worry:What will THEY think?Does this reinforce a stereotype?Why are they acting like that?Why are they so loud?Why couldn’t the character be more educated?More polished?More professional?More respectable?More—acceptable?And suddenly we’re not watching a movie anymore.We’re conducting a performance review of Blackness.😳Beloveds…that is exhausting.Because white characters are often permitted to be:Brilliant.Stupid.Rich.Poor.Heroic.Ridiculous.Criminal.Professional.Messy.Romantic.Awkward.Loud.Quiet.Good.Terrible.Ordinary.And nobody necessarily asks one white character to represent the moral worth of an entire race.But Black characters?Sometimes we watch them carrying everybody.And sometimes—without realizing it—we help load the backpack.⛓️That was part of the Holy Spirit’s conviction for me.God was showing me:Cassandra, look at the ruler.Not merely:Look at those people.Look at what you are using to measure them.👀Who gave you that?When did you learn it?Why are you still carrying it?And Beloveds…I think I know part of the answer.Ten times better.That lesson came from people trying to prepare me for a world they knew could be unfair.There was love inside the warning.There was survival inside it.There was history inside it.But there was also a chain hiding nearby.Because “You may have to be ten times better to receive the opportunity” can quietly become:“Black people SHOULD be ten times better.”No.❤️🩹I reject that.We should pursue excellence because excellence can be beautiful.We should develop our gifts.Learn.Grow.Work.Create.Build.But our humanity cannot depend upon outperforming somebody else.And our Blackness does not become more respectable because we make ourselves less Black.🔑Eva gets to be loud.And Eva needs boundaries.Ray gets to be masculine and tender.And Ray needs honesty.Mike gets to be frustrated.And Mike needs accountability.Tim gets to be quieter.And Tim needs his voice.Darrell gets to be goofy.And Darrell gets dignity.The sisters get to love Eva.And they need agency.Everybody gets correction.Everybody gets complexity.Everybody gets humanity.EVERYBODY GETS A CHAIR.🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑That’s what I want now.Not a world where nobody gets judged because nobody ever does anything wrong.That’s not discernment.I want a world where we can say:That behavior needs changingwithout saying:That person needs to become less themselves to deserve belonging.WHEW.❤️🔥And this is where the conviction of the Holy Spirit becomes beautiful to me.Because God didn’t merely show me what was wrong.He started changing what I enjoyed.🥰I kept watching.I relaxed.I laughed.🤣I fell in love with seeing Black people simply BE.Not representing.Not auditioning.Not proving.Being.And somewhere along the way, I think God was freeing me too.Because if they don’t have to perform acceptable Blackness—neither do I.👩🏿🦼💃🏿I can be educated.And silly.Faithful.And questioning.Strong.And tired.Professional.And LOUD.🤣A wheelchair user.A woman whose speech changed.A writer.A believer.A Black woman.A work in progress.ME.And I don’t need to become ten times more human than anybody else.I already belong to the human family.And more importantly to me:I belong to God.🙏🏿❤️🔥So maybe the question isn’t:Are they too Black?Maybe the Holy Spirit was asking me:Cassandra, why are you still holding the ruler?😳And maybe my answer now is:I’m not.I’m learning to put it down.🔑Beloveds, maybe you have one too.Maybe yours doesn’t measure Blackness.Maybe it measures education.Body size.Disability.Age.Money.Accent.Gender.Religion.Politics.Neighborhood.Clothes.Mental illness.Addiction.Sexuality.Or somebody whose life simply looks nothing like yours.I’m not asking you to perform an answer for me.Be honest with you.For, HIM.🙏🏿What ruler are you carrying?Who handed it to you?Who have you measured with it?Have you measured yourself with it too?And if the Holy Spirit is showing it to you—maybe He isn’t showing you the ruler so you can beat yourself with it.Maybe He’s saying:Child. You don’t need that anymore.Put it down.🔑❤️🩹Pull up your chair.🪑And let somebody else pull up theirs.Because maybe freedom looks like finally letting people be fully human in front of us.And maybe—just maybe—that includes letting ourselves be fully human too.👩🏿🦼💃🏿❤️🔥🌎Asking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- 📫 ❤️🩹 BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME.Beloveds,Ow.That is probably the best way for me to begin this.Ow.For the past few years, the Holy Spirit has been convicting my heart.Not condemning me.Convicting me.There is a difference.Condemnation tells me to hide.The conviction of the Holy Spirit calls me into the light.And sometimes?That light hits something in me that makes me say:OW!😳🥺❤️🩹I love living in my Black skin.I love Black joy.I love Black laughter.I love Black music.I love Black creativity.I love Black excellence.I love the beauty of us.The resilience of us.The tenderness of us.The absolute foolishness of us sometimes.🤣I love everybody.But I especially love my bros and sis.Which is exactly why what the Holy Spirit showed me hurt so much.Just before my stroke, I discovered a ton of Black romance movies.Beloveds…I LOVED THEM.🥰😍Seeing Black people in love was breathtaking to me.People who looked like me were falling in love.Being pursued.Being cherished.Building families.Laughing.Arguing.Reconciling.Getting married.Living.And many of these movies showed something else I loved seeing:Black affluence.Black professionals.Black entrepreneurs.Beautiful Black families in beautiful homes.Black men and women succeeding.Black excellence.I loved seeing us.But then something happened.And this is where I cry.😭Permit me to digress.Growing up, Black folk pounded something into my head:You have to be ten times better than everybody else just to earn a hint of a whiff of a chance at a decent job. At a decent life.So I worked.Hard.HARD.I learned.I became good at what I did.I loved Customer Service.You could hear that love in my voice.I trained people.And I watched many of the white people I trained receive the raise.The promotion.The opportunity.Over me.I offered my skills.I knew I was capable.Still…I was seldom selected.Not chosen.Again.Sigh.❤️🩹Now come back to those movies with me.Because one day I caught something happening inside myself.I was watching Black people on the screen.And somewhere in my thoughts I heard:They’re too loud.Too boisterous.Too…Black.😳🥺🥹😦😩😢😭OW.I am a Black woman.I love Black people.And there it was.Inside me.A measuring stick.A judgment.A standard about what kind of Blackness was acceptable.And the Holy Spirit would not let me look away from it.That is important.Because I could have defended myself.I could have said:I’m Black!I love Black people!Look at everything I’ve written!Look at who I am!I could have produced evidence for my own defense.But God wasn’t putting me on trial.He was showing me something because He loves me enough to show me what still needs healing.❤️🩹I had learned that Black people are watched.Evaluated.Measured.Judged.How we speak.How we dress.How we wear our hair.How loudly we laugh.How angry we are allowed to become.How professional we appear.Whether we are “articulate.”Whether we make somebody uncomfortable.Whether we are respectable enough.Somewhere along the way, the watcher got inside.⛓️Society didn’t have to sit beside me watching the movie saying:That’s too Black.Some of those old lessons had learned how to speak from inside me.And the Holy Spirit said:Look.👀Not:Hate yourself.Not:You are terrible.Not:You don’t love your people.Look.See it.Tell the truth about it.Let Me deal with it.And Beloveds?I did something important.I forgave ME.❤️🩹Not because bias doesn’t matter.Not because judgment doesn’t hurt people.Not because I wanted an excuse.I forgave myself because shame was not going to heal what God was revealing.I forgave the Black girl who learned she was being watched.I forgave the Black woman who learned she needed to work ten times harder.I forgave the professional who watched people she trained receive opportunities she wasn’t given.I forgave the woman who learned that being excellent, controlled, polished and respectable might make the road a little safer.And then I let the Holy Spirit teach that woman something new.🔑Over these last few weeks, I started watching those movies again.🥰Then:😍Then:😅Then:🤣😂And something began changing.I stopped grading everybody’s Blackness.Loud?Okay.Quiet?Okay.Boisterous?Okay.Reserved?Okay.Professional?Okay.Country?Okay.Hood?Okay.Affluent?Okay.Working class?Okay.Harvard?Okay.Grandma’s kitchen table and the school of hard knocks?Okay.🤣❤️Black people do not owe me one acceptable performance of Blackness.And neither do I.👩🏿🦼💃🏿Because here’s another little piece of God’s sense of humor:After all those years learning how not to be “too loud”…Look at the name of my blog.WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!🤣🤣🤣Won’t He do it?!But this revelation went deeper.Because I realized something about Black excellence too.I LOVE Black excellence.I celebrate it.But Black excellence cannot become another chain.⛓️We cannot spend generations being told we must be ten times better and then accidentally turn around and require exceptional achievement from one another before we feel comfortable celebrating Black life.The CEO matters.The doctor matters.The professor matters.The entrepreneur matters.And so does the cashier.The janitor.The unemployed brother trying again.The sister working two jobs.The person without the degree.The person with the accent.The person whose grammar somebody wants to correct.The quiet Black man.The loud Black man.The quiet Black woman.And yes—the LOUD Black woman.👩🏿🦼💃🏿❤️🔥Our dignity cannot depend upon our excellence.And that revelation made me ask an even harder question:What other measuring sticks am I carrying?Not just about Black people.About people.Period.What have I absorbed about disability?Poverty?Weight?Age?Education?Accents?Religion?Gender?Mental illness?Addiction?Homelessness?People who vote differently?People who worship differently?People who don’t believe what I believe?People whose lives I don’t understand?👀What if some of the chains I want broken in the world are also hiding somewhere inside me?⛓️Then I need a key too.🔑That is why I’m telling you this.Because the Holy Spirit convicted me.And the instruction in my spirit was:BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME.For ME.Him.God.🙏🏿Tell them.Don’t polish yourself first.Don’t pretend you arrived.Don’t make yourself the teacher standing above everybody else.Tell them what I showed you.So I am.I judged.God showed me.It hurt.I listened.I forgave myself.I kept watching.I started seeing differently.And I’m still learning.That is conviction.That is grace.That is growth.That is another chain hitting the floor.⛓️💥And now, Beloveds, I turn the question toward you—not from above you.From my chair.🪑Be honest with you.For, HIM.What hidden bias are you struggling to deal with?What measuring stick did somebody put in your hand so early that you forgot somebody gave it to you?And what might happen if you finally put it down?Don’t answer for me.Don’t answer for Facebook.Don’t answer for church.Don’t answer because somebody is watching.Ask God.Be honest with you.For, Him.Because He already knows what is there.And if the Holy Spirit turns the light on?👀Look.Listen.Repent where repentance is needed.Forgive yourself.Learn.Unlearn.Heal.Choose differently.And keep walking.One step.One step.One step.🔑❤️🩹God did not show me the chain so I could decorate it with shame.He showed me the chain because chains can be broken.And THAT?That will preach.❤️🔥🙏🏿Asking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- 📫 BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME. ❤️🩹Beloveds,Ow.For the past few years, the Holy Spirit has been convicting my heart.Not condemning me.Convicting me.And this one hurt.I love living in my Black skin. I love Black joy, Black love, Black laughter and Black excellence. I love everybody, but especially my bros and sis.Which is why this revelation made me cry.Before my stroke, I discovered Black romance movies.🥰😍Seeing people who looked like me falling in love was breathtaking. I loved seeing Black professionals, beautiful homes, successful families and Black people simply enjoying life.But one day I caught myself thinking:They’re too loud.Too boisterous.Too…Black.😳🥺😭OW.There it was.Inside me.And the Holy Spirit said:Look.👀Growing up, Black folk pounded something into my head:You have to be ten times better just to get a hint of a whiff of the same opportunity.So I worked.Hard.I became good at what I did. I loved Customer Service. You could hear it in my voice.I even trained white people who later received raises and promotions over me.Still…I was seldom selected.Sigh.❤️🩹I learned early that Black people were being watched.How we talked.How loudly we laughed.How professional we appeared.Whether we were “articulate.”Whether we made somebody uncomfortable.And somewhere along the way—the watcher got inside me.⛓️Nobody had to sit beside me saying, They’re too Black.The old measuring stick had learned how to speak from inside.And THAT is what the Holy Spirit convicted me about.God wasn’t telling me to hate myself.He was showing me something He wanted to heal.So I forgave ME.❤️🩹I forgave the Black girl who learned she was being watched.I forgave the woman who learned she had to work ten times harder.I forgave the professional who watched people she trained receive opportunities she wasn’t given.And then I let the Holy Spirit teach that woman something different.🔑I kept watching those movies.🥰😍😅🤣😂And I stopped grading everybody’s Blackness.Loud?Okay.Quiet?Okay.Country?Okay.Hood?Okay.Affluent?Okay.Working class?Okay.Harvard?Okay.Grandma’s kitchen table?Okay.Black people do not owe me one acceptable performance of Blackness.Neither do I.👩🏿🦼💃🏿And would you LOOK at God’s sense of humor?After learning all those years not to be “too loud,” I now have a blog called:WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!🤣❤️🔥Won’t He do it?!I love Black excellence.But the Holy Spirit showed me something else:Black excellence cannot become another chain.⛓️The CEO matters.The doctor matters.And so do the cashier, janitor, unemployed brother trying again, sister working two jobs, person without the degree, quiet Black man, loud Black man, quiet Black woman and—YES—LOUD BLACK WOMAN.👩🏿🦼💃🏿❤️🔥Our dignity cannot depend upon being exceptional.And now I’m asking myself:What other measuring sticks am I carrying?About disability?Poverty?Age?Weight?Education?Religion?Accents?Mental illness?Homelessness?People who don’t believe what I believe?What if some of the chains I want broken in the world are hiding inside me?Then I need a key too.🔑And THAT is why I’m telling you.Because the instruction in my spirit was:BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME.ME = HIM.God.🙏🏿Tell them what I showed you.So I am.I judged.The Holy Spirit convicted me.It hurt.I listened.I forgave myself.I’m learning.And I’m choosing differently.⛓️💥🔑Now, Beloveds:Be honest with you. For, HIM.What hidden bias are you struggling with?What measuring stick did somebody put into your hand so early that you forgot it was handed to you?And if the Holy Spirit turns the light on?Look.Listen.Repent.Learn.Unlearn.Heal.Choose differently.❤️🩹🔑God didn’t show me the chain so I could decorate it with shame.He showed me the chain because chains can be broken.❤️🔥🙏🏿Asking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- 📫 BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME. ❤️🩹Beloveds,Ow.That is probably the best way for me to begin this.Ow.For the past few years, the Holy Spirit has been convicting my heart.Not condemning me.Convicting me.There is a difference.Condemnation tells me to hide.The conviction of the Holy Spirit calls me into the light.And sometimes?That light hits something in me that makes me say:OW!😳🥺❤️🩹I love living in my Black skin.I love Black joy.I love Black laughter.I love Black music.I love Black creativity.I love Black excellence.I love the beauty of us.The resilience of us.The tenderness of us.The absolute foolishness of us sometimes.🤣I love everybody.But I especially love my bros and sis.Which is exactly why what the Holy Spirit showed me hurt so much.Just before my stroke, I discovered a ton of Black romance movies.Beloveds…I LOVED THEM.🥰😍Seeing Black people in love was breathtaking to me.People who looked like me were falling in love.Being pursued.Being cherished.Building families.Laughing.Arguing.Reconciling.Getting married.Living.And many of these movies showed something else I loved seeing:Black affluence.Black professionals.Black entrepreneurs.Beautiful Black families in beautiful homes.Black men and women succeeding.Black excellence.I loved seeing us.But then something happened.And this is where I cry.😭Permit me to digress.Growing up, Black folk pounded something into my head:You have to be ten times better than everybody else just to earn a hint of a whiff of a chance at a decent job. At a decent life.So I worked.Hard.HARD.I learned.I became good at what I did.I loved Customer Service.You could hear that love in my voice.I trained people.And I watched many of the white people I trained receive the raise.The promotion.The opportunity.Over me.I offered my skills.I knew I was capable.Still…I was seldom selected.Not chosen.Again.Sigh.❤️🩹Now come back to those movies with me.Because one day I caught something happening inside myself.I was watching Black people on the screen.And somewhere in my thoughts I heard:They’re too loud.Too boisterous.Too…Black.😳🥺🥹😦😩😢😭OW.I am a Black woman.I love Black people.And there it was.Inside me.A measuring stick.A judgment.A standard about what kind of Blackness was acceptable.And the Holy Spirit would not let me look away from it.That is important.Because I could have defended myself.I could have said:I’m Black!I love Black people!Look at everything I’ve written!Look at who I am!I could have produced evidence for my own defense.But God wasn’t putting me on trial.He was showing me something because He loves me enough to show me what still needs healing.❤️🩹I had learned that Black people are watched.Evaluated.Measured.Judged.How we speak.How we dress.How we wear our hair.How loudly we laugh.How angry we are allowed to become.How professional we appear.Whether we are “articulate.”Whether we make somebody uncomfortable.Whether we are respectable enough.Somewhere along the way, the watcher got inside.⛓️Society didn’t have to sit beside me watching the movie saying:That’s too Black.Some of those old lessons had learned how to speak from inside me.And the Holy Spirit said:Look.👀Not:Hate yourself.Not:You are terrible.Not:You don’t love your people.Look.See it.Tell the truth about it.Let Me deal with it.And Beloveds?I did something important.I forgave ME.❤️🩹Not because bias doesn’t matter.Not because judgment doesn’t hurt people.Not because I wanted an excuse.I forgave myself because shame was not going to heal what God was revealing.I forgave the Black girl who learned she was being watched.I forgave the Black woman who learned she needed to work ten times harder.I forgave the professional who watched people she trained receive opportunities she wasn’t given.I forgave the woman who learned that being excellent, controlled, polished and respectable might make the road a little safer.And then I let the Holy Spirit teach that woman something new.🔑Over these last few weeks, I started watching those movies again.🥰Then:😍Then:😅Then:🤣😂And something began changing.I stopped grading everybody’s Blackness.Loud?Okay.Quiet?Okay.Boisterous?Okay.Reserved?Okay.Professional?Okay.Country?Okay.Hood?Okay.Affluent?Okay.Working class?Okay.Harvard?Okay.Grandma’s kitchen table and the school of hard knocks?Okay.🤣❤️Black people do not owe me one acceptable performance of Blackness.And neither do I.👩🏿🦼💃🏿Because here’s another little piece of God’s sense of humor:After all those years learning how not to be “too loud”…Look at the name of my blog.WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!🤣🤣🤣Won’t He do it?!But this revelation went deeper.Because I realized something about Black excellence too.I LOVE Black excellence.I celebrate it.But Black excellence cannot become another chain.⛓️We cannot spend generations being told we must be ten times better and then accidentally turn around and require exceptional achievement from one another before we feel comfortable celebrating Black life.The CEO matters.The doctor matters.The professor matters.The entrepreneur matters.And so does the cashier.The janitor.The unemployed brother trying again.The sister working two jobs.The person without the degree.The person with the accent.The person whose grammar somebody wants to correct.The quiet Black man.The loud Black man.The quiet Black woman.And yes—the LOUD Black woman.👩🏿🦼💃🏿❤️🔥Our dignity cannot depend upon our excellence.And that revelation made me ask an even harder question:What other measuring sticks am I carrying?Not just about Black people.About people.Period.What have I absorbed about disability?Poverty?Weight?Age?Education?Accents?Religion?Gender?Mental illness?Addiction?Homelessness?People who vote differently?People who worship differently?People who don’t believe what I believe?People whose lives I don’t understand?👀What if some of the chains I want broken in the world are also hiding somewhere inside me?⛓️Then I need a key too.🔑That is why I’m telling you this.Because the Holy Spirit convicted me.And the instruction in my spirit was:BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME.For ME.Him.God.🙏🏿Tell them.Don’t polish yourself first.Don’t pretend you arrived.Don’t make yourself the teacher standing above everybody else.Tell them what I showed you.So I am.I judged.God showed me.It hurt.I listened.I forgave myself.I kept watching.I started seeing differently.And I’m still learning.That is conviction.That is grace.That is growth.That is another chain hitting the floor.⛓️💥And now, Beloveds, I turn the question toward you—not from above you.From my chair.🪑Be honest with you.For, HIM.What hidden bias are you struggling to deal with?What measuring stick did somebody put in your hand so early that you forgot somebody gave it to you?And what might happen if you finally put it down?Don’t answer for me.Don’t answer for Facebook.Don’t answer for church.Don’t answer because somebody is watching.Ask God.Be honest with you.For, Him.Because He already knows what is there.And if the Holy Spirit turns the light on?👀Look.Listen.Repent where repentance is needed.Forgive yourself.Learn.Unlearn.Heal.Choose differently.And keep walking.One step.One step.One step.🔑❤️🩹God did not show me the chain so I could decorate it with shame.He showed me the chain because chains can be broken.And THAT?That will preach.❤️🔥🙏🏿Asking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 