You shall not…
Though the world give up.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on the truth.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on the old.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s heart from the unhoused.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on the youth.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on hope.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on dreams.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on God/Life.
You shall not…
Though the world turn it’s back on all that matters.
You shall not.
I dare not!
*Cassandra turns from the mirror and continues being about that gnat life*
I absolutely REFUSE to cede ONE scrap of ground/hope to ANY darkness. Turn on a light. Turn up THE Light. Let the world quit. Refuse to quit with it. Stay all up in the world’s face and let the world KNOW it is messing with the wrong one!
Ha!
Take the hat rack, known as your head, and open your mouth and put some love on this dumpster fire called buncha folks being hard headed dummies who refuse to love themselves, let alone you, and give a hug/heart/shoulder to one another.
At the very least, a good boot to the rear of obstinate and asinine folk. Starting with YOU!π₯°π
being about that gnat life,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
- π¬ MAYBE THEY WEREN’T βTOO BLACK.β MAYBE I WAS STILL HOLDING THE RULER. πͺπBeloveds,I told you I caught myself watching Black romance movies and thinking:Too loud.Too boisterous.Too Black.π³And the Holy Spirit convicted me.Then I watched Deliver Us from Eva.WHEW.πBecause 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.πShe 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.βοΈ If I don’t manage everybody, everything will fall apart.π 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.π€£Eva has to stop managing.Her sisters have to start owning.Everybody gets a chair.πͺAnd YESβTHE MEN TOO.π€£πͺπͺπͺπͺRay begins by deceiving Eva.That matters.But eventually βthe problemβ becomes a person to him.Eva.And Ray changes.π 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.πThen Mike.Mike has a legitimate frustration with Eva’s interference.His solution?SIR. SIT DOWN.πͺπ€£Because here’s another key:π 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 βman enoughβ?Dominant?Always in charge?Never soft?Never uncertain?Why?Tim doesn’t need more masculinity.He needs his voice.πA loud Black woman shouldn’t have to shrink.A quieter Black man shouldn’t have to perform dominance.Both get chairs.And Darrell?π€£Some people are intellectual heavyweights.And some people areβ¦Darrell.π€£β€οΈHE 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 βwell enough.βWhat will THEY think?Why are they so loud?Why aren’t they more polished?More educated?More professional?More respectable?Moreβ¦acceptable?π³And suddenly I’m not watching a movie.I’m conducting a performance review of Blackness.βοΈThat’s exhausting.Because Black characters should not have to carry the reputation of an entire people on their backs.And sometimes, without realizing itβwe 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.πWho 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:βYou may have to be ten times better to receive the opportunityβcan quietly become:βBlack people SHOULD be ten times better.βNO.β€οΈβπ©ΉI 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.πͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺAnd maybe that’s what the Holy Spirit was really asking me:Cassandra, why are you still holding the ruler?π³My answer?I’m learning to put it down.πAnd 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.ππΏWhat 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.πβ€οΈβπ©ΉPull up your chair.πͺLet somebody else pull up theirs.And let people be fully human in front of you.Includingβyou.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯πAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- π¬ MAYBE THEY WEREN’T βTOO BLACK.β MAYBE I WAS STILL HOLDING THE RULER. πͺπBeloveds,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.Tooβ¦Black.π³And I told you that the conviction of the Holy Spirit made me look at what was happening inside me.Well.Pull up your chair.πͺBecause 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.πLet’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.πShe 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.βοΈ If I don’t take care of everybody, everything will fall apart.π 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.π€£At some point:Eva has to stop managing.And:her sisters have to start owning.πͺπͺThat’s relationship.That’s adulthood.That’s boundaries.That’s love without possession.And then there are the men.Oh, yes.ALL OF THEM.ππ€£Because I’m not giving the women full humanity and turning the Black men into props.Pull up some more chairs.πͺπͺπͺπͺRay.Mike.Tim.Darrell.Come on in.π€£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.π€£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.βοΈ Deception steals informed choice.But then something inconvenient happens to Ray’s little plan.Eva becomes a person.Not βthe problem.βNot βthat difficult woman.βNot the assignment.Eva.And Ray develops real feelings.That matters because stereotypes are easiest to maintain from a distance.Encounter complicates caricature.π 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.πThere’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 rΓ©sumΓ©.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.πMike’s problem is real.His solution?Sir.Take a seat.πͺπ€£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?πA 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.πAnd 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.πͺπͺAnd Darrell.π€£Beloveds, some people are brilliant.Some people are sophisticated.Some people are intellectual heavyweights.And some people areβ¦Darrell.π€£β€οΈAnd 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 βten times betterβ is that we start becoming nervous when Black people on screen aren’t representing us βwell enough.βπRead 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?Moreβacceptable?And suddenly we’re not watching a movie anymore.We’re conducting a performance review of Blackness.π³Belovedsβ¦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 sometimesβwithout realizing itβwe help load the backpack.βοΈThat 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.πWho gave you that?When did you learn it?Why are you still carrying it?And Belovedsβ¦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 βYou may have to be ten times better to receive the opportunityβ can quietly become:βBlack people SHOULD be ten times better.βNo.β€οΈβπ©ΉI 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.πEva 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.πͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺThat’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.β€οΈβπ₯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.π₯°I kept watching.I relaxed.I laughed.π€£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 Blacknessβneither do I.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏI can be educated.And silly.Faithful.And questioning.Strong.And tired.Professional.And LOUD.π€£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.ππΏβ€οΈβπ₯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?π³And maybe my answer now is:I’m not.I’m learning to put it down.πBeloveds, 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.ππΏWhat 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 youβmaybe 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.πβ€οΈβπ©ΉPull up your chair.πͺAnd let somebody else pull up theirs.Because maybe freedom looks like finally letting people be fully human in front of us.And maybeβjust maybeβthat includes letting ourselves be fully human too.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯πAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- π« β€οΈβπ©Ή 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!π³π₯Ίβ€οΈβπ©ΉI 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.π€£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.Belovedsβ¦I LOVED THEM.π₯°πSeeing 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.πPermit 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.Stillβ¦I was seldom selected.Not chosen.Again.Sigh.β€οΈβπ©ΉNow 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.Tooβ¦Black.π³π₯Ίπ₯Ήπ¦π©π’πOW.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.β€οΈβπ©ΉI 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 βarticulate.βWhether we make somebody uncomfortable.Whether we are respectable enough.Somewhere along the way, the watcher got inside.βοΈSociety 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.πNot: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.β€οΈβπ©ΉNot 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.πOver these last few weeks, I started watching those movies again.π₯°Then:πThen:π Then:π€£πAnd 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.π€£β€οΈBlack people do not owe me one acceptable performance of Blackness.And neither do I.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏBecause here’s another little piece of God’s sense of humor:After all those years learning how not to be βtoo loudββ¦Look at the name of my blog.WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!π€£π€£π€£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.βοΈWe 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 yesβthe LOUD Black woman.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯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?πWhat if some of the chains I want broken in the world are also hiding somewhere inside me?βοΈThen I need a key too.πThat 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.ππΏTell 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.βοΈπ₯And now, Beloveds, I turn the question toward youβnot from above you.From my chair.πͺBe 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?πLook.Listen.Repent where repentance is needed.Forgive yourself.Learn.Unlearn.Heal.Choose differently.And keep walking.One step.One step.One step.πβ€οΈβπ©ΉGod 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.β€οΈβπ₯ππΏAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- π« BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME. β€οΈβπ©ΉBeloveds,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.π₯°πSeeing 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.Tooβ¦Black.π³π₯ΊπOW.There it was.Inside me.And the Holy Spirit said:Look.πGrowing 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.Stillβ¦I was seldom selected.Sigh.β€οΈβπ©ΉI learned early that Black people were being watched.How we talked.How loudly we laughed.How professional we appeared.Whether we were βarticulate.βWhether we made somebody uncomfortable.And somewhere along the wayβthe watcher got inside me.βοΈNobody 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.β€οΈβπ©ΉI 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.πI kept watching those movies.π₯°ππ π€£πAnd 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.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏAnd would you LOOK at God’s sense of humor?After learning all those years not to be βtoo loud,β I now have a blog called:WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!π€£β€οΈβπ₯Won’t He do it?!I love Black excellence.But the Holy Spirit showed me something else:Black excellence cannot become another chain.βοΈThe 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 andβYESβLOUD BLACK WOMAN.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯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.πAnd THAT is why I’m telling you.Because the instruction in my spirit was:BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME.ME = HIM.God.ππΏTell 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.βοΈπ₯πNow, 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.β€οΈβπ©ΉπGod didn’t show me the chain so I could decorate it with shame.He showed me the chain because chains can be broken.β€οΈβπ₯ππΏAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
- π« BE HONEST WITH THEM. FOR, ME. β€οΈβπ©ΉBeloveds,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!π³π₯Ίβ€οΈβπ©ΉI 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.π€£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.Belovedsβ¦I LOVED THEM.π₯°πSeeing 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.πPermit 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.Stillβ¦I was seldom selected.Not chosen.Again.Sigh.β€οΈβπ©ΉNow 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.Tooβ¦Black.π³π₯Ίπ₯Ήπ¦π©π’πOW.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.β€οΈβπ©ΉI 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 βarticulate.βWhether we make somebody uncomfortable.Whether we are respectable enough.Somewhere along the way, the watcher got inside.βοΈSociety 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.πNot: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.β€οΈβπ©ΉNot 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.πOver these last few weeks, I started watching those movies again.π₯°Then:πThen:π Then:π€£πAnd 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.π€£β€οΈBlack people do not owe me one acceptable performance of Blackness.And neither do I.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏBecause here’s another little piece of God’s sense of humor:After all those years learning how not to be βtoo loudββ¦Look at the name of my blog.WHY CAN’T I BE LOUD?!π€£π€£π€£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.βοΈWe 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 yesβthe LOUD Black woman.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯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?πWhat if some of the chains I want broken in the world are also hiding somewhere inside me?βοΈThen I need a key too.πThat 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.ππΏTell 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.βοΈπ₯And now, Beloveds, I turn the question toward youβnot from above you.From my chair.πͺBe 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?πLook.Listen.Repent where repentance is needed.Forgive yourself.Learn.Unlearn.Heal.Choose differently.And keep walking.One step.One step.One step.πβ€οΈβπ©ΉGod 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.β€οΈβπ₯ππΏAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 