Recently by Shark-Fu

Let's jump right on in, shall we?

The Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday has special meaning for me. I remember the battle waged to get a national holiday honoring King and how much it meant to my parents. They were in their 20s during the 1960s and active in the movement. They watched segregation laws crumble and communities rebel in the face of change. They watched cities burn when Dr. King was murdered in 1968. And they passed that history on to their children along with the knowledge that many sacrificed much so that we could have the opportunities we do.

For me the MLK holiday is a day to remember the movement and all the extraordinary ordinary people who made it possible.

I tend to avoid the brunches and services and parades. I prefer to watch episodes of Eyes on the Prize and ponder the power of people...regular people...working to make a positive difference.

It is their normalcy...so easy to forget...that is so extraordinary. Too many of us put activists on pedestals and speak of their actions as if quoting scripture...particularly Dr. King.

But, in doing so, we lose the beauty of their accomplishments and the meaning of our inheritance just when we need to understand it most.

The struggle for social justice is anything but history. Poverty, separate and anything but equal education, laws that protect discrimination instead of people, an unjust war and I could go on and on.

There is much work to be done.

Miles and miles yet to go.

And we can take some encouragement from the words of Dr. King...

If you can't fly, run; if you can't run, walk; if you can't walk--CRAWL.

By all means, keep on moving...

January is Cervical Cancer Awareness Month, y'all!

Each year in the United States, more than 11,000 women are diagnosed with cervical cancer and close to 4,000 die as a result of the disease. As you probably know, certain types of the Human papillomavirus (HPV) are linked to cervical cancer. Vaccines such as Gardasil® and Cervarix™, which are designed to prevent infection with high-risk types of HPV, have the potential to greatly reduce the occurrence of cervical cancer.

Despite the amazing medical advances made, cervical cancer remains a serious threat to women's health...

...but 11% of women in the United States report that they do not have yearly pap tests which are crucial to early detection and treatment.

Blink.

I encourage everyone to remind a friend to schedule their yearly Pap test and health screening now...today...sooner rather than later, damn it!

Encourage each other to make the time to get to the doctor and help each other problem solve if y'all find that there are financial or logistical obstacles preventing screening.

Let's take our awareness and partner with our sisters - vaccinate early, Pap test regularly and HPV test when recommended!

Pause...consider...continue.

Confession - in my circle "tell-a-friend" turns into "fuss-at-a-friend" more often than not.

But what the hell, if cervical cancer screening isn't fuss worthy nothing is!

It's been a year, hasn't it?

The end of a year is when I like to give myself the gift of reflection. I'm a big fan of inner work and this is as good a time as any to take stock of what was before stepping toward what will be. When I sat down to write my thoughts on this past year my mind kept circling back to examine tolerance.

I'm not a fan of the School of Tolerance that has held court in the social justice world. People tolerate a stench or an annoying as hell person sitting next to them on a sold out flight to Phoenix...and as soon as the opportunity presents, those same tolerant people get as far away from that which they suffered as they can.

Tolerance is a temporary thing and many a happening in 2008 highlighted that. The marriage equality fight in California, where neighbors that shared gardening tips suddenly found out that some of them weren't down with sharing equal rights. The presidential election, where the complex diversity of the electorate ran into brick walls of assumptions and stereotypes and dishes heaped high with my oppression beats your oppression casserole served with a side of feminism is what I say it is rice.

Oh, I get why folks still send their children to the School of Tolerance despite the low graduation rate...don't get me wrong. Respect is hard. Tolerance is much easier. Respect can't be forced or guaranteed. Tolerance lives on the pages of Employee Handbooks and in the by-laws of Corporate Diversity Committees where people agree to practice the religion even if they aren't believers.

I acknowledge that those handbooks and policies offer some measure of protection in the workplace and schools. On one level society desperately needs guides for what will or will not be tolerated, what should or should not be expressed, so that our tendency to destroy what is different and therefore threatening may be checked. But on another level those policies create a false sense of shared beliefs and values...and all it takes is a ballot initiative and a marriage is between one man and one woman yard sign to blow the myth of tolerance being just as good as respect straight to hell.

That's the real, the challenge and the opportunity before us in the New Year.

As my grandmother often said, they call it the struggle because it is one...

This bitch has been pondering the themes represented in the comment made by Ed Rendell about Arizona Governor Janet Napolitano's nomination as Homeland Security chief. Rendell said Napolitano was a perfect pick because she doesn't have a family and can dedicate herself totally to the job.

Blink.

There's a lot to be bothered by in that but I must confess that what bothers me most is the idea that working in politics requires a lack of a life...and the unspoken belief that women with demanding lives can't work in politics.

Despite the excitement generated by Senator Clinton's presidential run, little attention is paid to the need for women to run for political office in all areas of government. I've spoken to a lot of women who have considered running for local or state office and almost all of them point to the daunting time commitments and their concerns over being able to balance that shit with the demands of their personal lives.

And many of them are single (gasp!) and have family demands that may or may not contain children (gasp again!!).

Even as I encourage them to explore the possibilities I have to acknowledge the fact that life in politics is often a major time commitment that puts serious strain on a person's work/life balance.

But we can't get stuck there.

We just can't.

We need more women in public office and that means we need to explore the challenges and work those problems out to come up with solutions that support working women everywhere rather than exclude us from representing our communities just when we need it most.

We've got lives and they desperately need to be represented in government.

So let's put our thinking caps on and get about the bitness of making that possible!

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. Each year I am blessed to spend it with my siblings and chosen family of friends.

Oh, and the non-stop feasting is fantabulous too (wink)!

This year, with the economy in turmoil and communities bracing for layoffs, I'm beyond thankful for all that I have...not the materials things, of which I don't have many, but the relationships and experiences that make a person whole.

I'm aware that there are many in my community who lack even that. Too often we tend to view poverty as a purely money-based thing and discuss it in terms of what a person can't afford or has had repossessed. And it is important to remember those among us who will go hungry or homeless or both...and it is so very important for us to give with the knowledge that those in need are our neighbors and friends.

But being poor often makes a person invisible. Even now, when many folks who have been getting by are getting a taste of need and hunger, features on the news focus on the newly poor and segments carefully avoid featuring the women and families who were living poverty long before the economy went o shit.

With invisibility comes loneliness and isolation...depression and desperation. As someone who regularly volunteers with women in shelters I have seen the numbness a life of want inspires in too many eyes and I have also seen the power of a simple conversation...the positive impact you can have on a person simply by asking them what their name is and how they are feeling.

This Thanksgiving I hope that y'all are able to give to a food bank or donate your time serving a meal or two, but I also encourage you to see the invisible among you.

Ask them how they are doing.

Discover the person within.

We have much to be thankful for and so very much to give.

Have a blessed holiday.

Let's jump right in, shall we?

This past Saturday I joined over 1,000 of my fellow equality activists...in the bitter cold, mind you (wince)...to protest in St. Louis the passage of Prop. 8 in California.

I had worried that the cold spell would discourage attendance...it didn't.

I also worried that the crowd wouldn't be diverse...but it was.

People often prove me wrong.

And sometimes they don't.

I am the daughter of Civil Rights activists...not famous people, but two of the many everyday Americans who volunteered and risked their lives in the struggle for the protected vote and equality. Growing up, my parents made sure that their children knew that our rights were fought for...and the how and why behind those battles.

So when Missourians voted in favor of a same-sex marriage ban in 2004, I was saddened but not discouraged.

History teaches us that Civil Rights are often won in the courts and society is slow to follow.

And when Californians voted in favor of Proposition 8, I'll admit to being surprised...but I sure as shit am not discouraged.

The night before Election Day, I watched a segment of the documentary Eyes on the Prize and saw young people, older people...women and men of every race and religion...participate in social change. And their efforts provided the fuel that led to legal changes which made it possible for me to stand before that crowd November 15, 2008 and add my voice to the chorus calling for justice.

The cold spell didn't discourage attendance.

The crowd was fired up and beautifully diverse.

And we begin again...

This Veteran's Day I am remembering one of the thousands of women who served.

Pfc. LaVena Johnson was killed on July 19, 2005 in Iraq.

The cause of her death is still being questioned.

Her murder and the lack of information about it touch more than just those of us from her hometown.

As the nation pauses in remembrance this Veteran's Day let us not forget.

In our excitement over the hope inspired by our recent election...may we not lose sight of the questions still in need of answers.

And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
Aeschylus

For more information about Pfc. Johnson and the investigation into her death visit LavenaJohnson.com.

I have never worked as hard on as many campaigns as I did in this election cycle...

...and, as I type this up, my home state of Missouri has yet to call a lot of them.

Some things never change.

But others?

Oh yes, they can (wink)!

I wish my beloved Grandmother had lived long enough to witness this. Oh how I wish that she who cast her first vote with courage and under the threat of hate filled violence in Mississippi had cast a ballot yesterday.

I wish so very much that my Father, who taught me to love politics and speak truth to power, was alive to share this moment...to speculate over the cabinet...and to debate the historical and social significance of America electing our first president of color.

But history is often bitter sweet because many of those whose work made it possible are not here to harvest the fruits of their labor.

Even as I struggle to put into words the emotion of this moment it is to generations long past that I am drawn.

To the women who organized then and now...who created the techniques that were applied so brilliantly in 2008.

To the brave people who sat when told to stand...who marched when warned to stand home...that spoke when cautioned to be silent...and to those who gave their lives to the cause of social justice.

And I am humbled that I watched the history of their creation last night.

Now, we begin.

Peace was not achieved last night.

Equality does not rain down upon the land.

The mountaintop remains on the horizon...and it is up to we the people to continue the climb.

So I shall cherish this moment and rest my tired ass feet for a spell, for we have miles upon miles yet to walk...

...and the audacity of hope to empower us.

A bitch has been working on several campaigns and I am tired as hell!

I've canvassed...phone-banked...blogged...rallied...and there is still so much that needs to be done.

Pause...consider...continue.

Yep, 'tis time for a pre-election Bitchfirmation!

Ahem.

When we're called un-American for doing what this nation's founders did by calling out bullshit and questioning those elected to serve us...

When we're called socialists by people who couldn't define socialism without a Google search an the assistance of an online dictionary if their herd mentality-based lives depended on it...

When they drop dollops of hate in the comment section of my blog as if I've lived damn near 36 years...all of them black...and never been called that shit before...

When they hang up the phone, slam the door or walk away rather than listen and debate...

For all the drama that accompanies campaign volunteering and activism in general...

Go on, y'all!

Go on with your badass volunteer, activist and advocate self!

Because living your values is not copy-writed by any political party...valuing family and community is not the sole property of social conservatives...and patriotism doesn't reside exclusively within the GOP.

Be vocal...because the blood, sweat and tears of millions were shed so that we can do just that.

Be proud...because part of being patriotic is the expectation that we the people speak truth to power.

And be fierce...because all that drama and more is why they call this a struggle.

Yes, I don't know about y'all but I needed that.

And now?

Begin again...

In fifteen days Americans will go to the polls and get our vote on. A bitch adores voting...the excitement, the anticipation and the satisfaction of adding my voice to the process and making my wishes known. I teach voter education classes at local women's shelters so I also get the honor of watching young women who are particularly vulnerable to legislative drama cast their first vote.

On Election Day I will drive my students to their polling place knowing that they know their rights and what they are voting for. It sounds so simple...and yet too many of us vote against something rather than for something.

I encourage all ya'll to ask yourself why you vote and what you are voting for.

Trust a bitch, the answers will guide your decisions more than you know.

What matters to you?

And let me be clear...I'm not just talking about the presidential election. On November 4th we'll be voting for a hell of a lot more than who the next president will be.

If you don't know who your state representative and senator are look their asses up! Get to know their records and their policy positions. Call the candidates up and ask questions...research ballot initiatives so that the wording is familiar rather than a surprise. If there is a proposition on the ballot take some time and find out what is being proposed and how it will impact your life.

For all the talk about elections being popularity contests, we the people are somewhat to blame. When we fail to vote from a place of knowledge...fail to challenge and question...and walk into our polling place knowing that our ass is about to wing it, we aren't doing our job.

And our job doesn't end when the polls close.

Prepare to get your oversight on post election, because we are the ones who are responsible for holding elected officials accountable.

After the Missouri primary I dropped my students off at the shelter and was about to leave when one student asked me to wait a minute so she could show me something. She rushed back to her room and returned with a legal pad in hand. I took the offered pad and looked at the neat writing that filled it from top to bottom...she had written down her choices complete with bullet points on each candidates key issues.

When I asked her why she didn't take the pad with her when she went to vote she rolled her eyes and laughed at me.

"This is for the after part, Ms. Shark-Fu!"

Fantabulous.

The vote is when our work begins...and after the election our work must continue.

We're at fifteen days and counting, y'all.

Be ready.

A bitch got my political canvass on this weekend on behalf of a fantabulous woman running for State Rep. in Missouri.

My feet are killing me, but it was worth the pain.

Wince.

I've discussed the need for activists to get active here before. Volunteering is a great way to live your values in your community. But volunteering for a political campaign is also a rare opportunity to learn a hell of a lot about your neighbors and fellow voters.

Whilst canvassing I met a lot of folks who had not made up their mind but who had really solid questions about the policy positions of the candidate I was volunteering for. These voters wanted to know where she stood on taxes, healthcare, education and judicial reform. And they asked about her position on reproductive choice as it applies to healthcare and education.

I returned home to soak my aching feet and ponder the day and I couldn't help but compare the voters I met during a four-hour canvass with the texture and substance of the recent vice presidential debate.

Did those voters get the answers they sought from that debate?

I think not, since the debate was a festival of non-information and well rehearsed folksy sound bites.

No, I'm pretty damned sure that the voters I met...those folks who had some damn good questions and real concerns...didn't walk away from the V.P. debate with any answers.

If anything, they walked away with more questions and a lot of concerns.

Sigh.

With both presidential tickets claiming to represent average hard working Americans this bitch thinks they'd all benefit from a few weekends of house-to-house canvassing.

We average Midwestern folks aren't as simple as the Sarah Palin's of the political world like to believe.

And you're darn tootin' we deserve a serious debate on the issues...

The financial markets are in turmoil and the federal bail-out is in question...or at least it was when I started writing this (wince).

Seems like the perfect time for a discussion about volunteering to this bitch!

Step up on soap box...fluff Afro...continue.

For the past five years I have volunteered at local women's shelters for homeless pregnant teens and new mothers. I teach voter education classes, basic budgeting and women's health classes. Through the years I have had the honor of witnessing knowledge empower young women to take control of their lives and I have also been confronted with the personal damage done through the anti-knowledge anti-choice agenda.

But one thing that this bitch has also witnessed is the lack of active volunteering to support community organizations and programs that address reproductive justice issues.

Now catch that knee before you hurt someone!

I'm certainly not flying solo in my efforts and that's not what a bitch is trying to say.

But there are mentor positions unfilled, after school classes in need of tutors...and so forth and so on...in every community across America.

As feminists we must challenge ourselves to be activists online and offline...to lead by example and give some of our time back to our communities.

And hey, there's a personal benefit too! My understanding of the challenges facing teen mothers has grown through my partnering with them in my classes...the complexity of poverty, the inadequacy of the system, the failure of abstinence-only education, the crisis of sexually transmitted diseases and the lack of funding for programs that could make a real difference are up close and personal issues for me now.

So, if you are already a volunteer in support of feminist causes and organizations in your community then go on with your bad self!

And if you are not donating your time now is a good time to ask yourself why.

Do you think you have to have a Ph.D. in women's studies to teach a class? Because you don't...most local shelters already have programs that need support. Or perhaps you don't like to join groups? That's okay, because you can always develop your own program, make your own schedule or volunteer with a group that doesn't require membership! Hell, that's how I go started.

Or do you think that you're too busy?

Well, you're not!

Blink.

Okay, a bitch doesn't really know how busy you are, but odds are you have a couple of hours a month to spare....right?

Right!

Go forth, get active and donate your time...

...and your money, if you're one of the blessed few to still have any of that shit left (wink).

Let's talk a bit about taking back words.

If I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me about one of my nicknames this bitch would be damn near debt free (wink). I've had the nickname Shark-Fu...or some variation on that theme...since I was a wee bitch of five. And the ABB nickname was the inspiration of readers of my blog AngryBlackBitch.com. The interesting thing is that both my nickname and the name of my blog are the result of my deliberate claiming of language and words previously used against me.

Shall we?

I became the victim of a bully the first day of kindergarten and remained a steady target throughout my grade school career. There were a lot of reasons why I appealed to bullies...this bitch was one of the only students of color, my brother was well known around the neighborhood for public displays of autism and I was always good for a post ridicule cry. But when I began to experience dental drama as a result of an overcrowded mouth...well, an already miserable situation went into overdrive.

Two of my permanent teeth decided to come in where they could get in and that happened to be behind my bottom row of teeth. While my mother consulted with my dentist and the family pocketbook, my fellow students began to taunt me on the bus. When I came home...crying, of course...because I'd been called a shark my mother rolled her eyes and told me "then you need to be a shark, girl, and stop letting those fools get under your skin."

I thought about it all night and decided to give it a try. So, I spent a week researching sharks at the library and found out that they are fantabulous and fierce creatures worthy of respect not bus-based taunting. The next time a classmate called me a shark I replied with a "thank you." And damn if that didn't shut him up for a week!

The teeth eventually were pulled but I've been Shark-Fu (my sister settled on that version) ever since.

Years later I found myself gifted with a blog for my birthday and searching around unsuccessfully for a title. I thought about what I wanted to share and discuss through my blog, but that didn't inspire any title ideas. Then I thought about how people may respond to my posts and added a dash of fucking with folk's expectations and that led to the AngryBlackBitch title.

See, I realized that the women being labeled angry black bitches were pretty damned fantabulous. The label was meant to diffuse their power and shut them up...it being built on an understanding of the so-called benefits of conformity and silence that my family passed down like other families passed down good glassware.

Don't raise your voice...loud black women are threatening.

Don't use naughty language... they already think black people can't speak proper.

Don't make and maintain eye contact...you may come across as intimidating.

Try not to be so "ethnic"...you don't want to go around reminding folks through your name, accent, hair, clothing, food or music that you are different.

And, for the love of social acceptance and peace, don't get angry!

Just don't...or you'll pay a price.

Hold it in, because if you let it out they're going to you're just another...uh huh, that's right.

And then they will dismiss your point but only because you frightened them...right?

If you had only sat perfectly straight in your chair whilst wearing that acceptable outfit with oh so non-ethnic hair and spoken in low viciously proper sentences as you expressed your frustration over the wrong done to you without passion or conviction they would have listened.

Blink.

That's the pitch...trust a bitch, I've heard it my entire life...and it is, has always been and will always be bullshit.

I reject that contract even as I reclaim my anger and my bitchitude...and a bunch of naughty words that I simply adore using.

Now, I'm not saying that all y'all need to get down with it.

Some folks will never dig it and that's cool - there isn't a bitchitude mandate that I'm aware of...yet.

But for this bitch claiming and taking back language has proven to be just as empowering as embracing my inner shark...

...with the added benefit of stumping those knavish trolls who can't come up with anything else to call me in the comments.

I was going to tackle the issue of reclaiming certain words, but I have something else on my mind today.

Let's jump right in, shall we?

Yesterday I had dinner with my older brother. He's autistic and aphasic and vibrant and funny. My sister and I are co-guardians, which has added dealing with the mental healthcare system to our lives. It's worth it, but it is often an emotionally draining pain in the ass.

My brother is the oldest so I have never known a day without autism in my world. Having a family member with special needs is normal for me. In fact, it is normal for a lot of American families.

Just as struggling to do right by that loved one and make sure their needs are met has become normal.

Blink.

Eight years of Republicans in control of our national checkbook has resulted in a lack of funding for domestic programs and that includes residential treatment programs, community integration programs and healthcare programs.

Yesterday I looked across the table at my brother and I was seized with a pure panic over how the hell we'd function if his funding was cut one more time...if they took away other screenings the way they took away dental coverage...if they slashed transportation the way they slashed funding for job assistance which has left him unemployed for the first time in his adult life.

When I vote I need to know that the person I'm voting for will institute the kind of change that will free up funding for the programs that make society function...education, metal health and infrastructure to name a few.

I need to know that they see a role for government not just a military role.

I do not need another self titled outsider bent on starving domestic programs to death.

I need...my family needs...a fucking human being who believes in the government they seek to lead.

This shit is personal as hell to me, because mismanagement and this government's greed-based adoration of pork has trickled down like acid into my state's budget and eaten away at so many social programs that...

...oh shit, there's that panic again.

Sigh.

Ask yourself what isn't being discussed while political pundits debate Gov. Palin's eyewear or while anchors work themselves into a frenzy over the ever changing poll numbers.

Those are the issues and concerns that this woman voter is going to take into the booth with me come November.

We are all value voters.

The problem is that many of us have become too distracted by the circus to focus on what we value most.

My name is Shark-Fu and I usually practice the fine art of bitchitude over at AngryBlackBitch.com.

But let me tell y'all that a bitch is thrilled to be in the land of Feministing.

Shall we?

The Vice Presidential debate is going to be in my hometown of St. Louis Missouri and this bitch has been fantasizing about it for days. Not just because of my fan-based joy of being able to watch the fantabulous Gwen Ifill moderate, but because of the opportunity I'm damn sure we're going to let pass us by as these two people sweep in and sweep out of St. Louis Missouri.

Oh, how a bitch would love to have a day with them.

Blink.

I would!

Mmmhmmm, a bitch would take Senator Biden and Governor Palin on a tour.

I'd take them to my neighborhood, where public schools leave poor children behind and middle class families struggle to send their children go to private schools. I'd walk them through the grade school up the street and around the corner to meet young people and talk to them about the fucked up tests and the flawed standards...the lack of funding for what they need and the abundance of funding for what they don't need any more of.

We'd drive to the local shelter for pregnant teens where I teach women's health and voter education classes and we'd stay for lunch. They'd meet the young woman who found out how to prevent pregnancy when she became pregnant and the pregnant fifteen year old who faces motherhood alone after being denied choice and options by law.

Of course we'd have to drop by a union hall and have coffee with workers who have seen factories close and industry flee...who have seen my state's greatest export become our people.

We'd have a meeting with local law enforcement to go over the daunting crime figures...the rise in violent crime and gun violence that too many county residents expect to see in the city and too many city residents don't expect to change anytime soon.

And then I'd sit them both down and tell them in very specific terms exactly what change means to a bitch.

Lawd knows that we'll be lucky if either one of them pause for a fundraiser...some tastefully catered affair in a "good" neighborhood attended by all the right people and blah followed by blah followed by another blah.

Sigh.

But a bitch can dream...

...and hold out hope that Ms. Ifill will toss in a few questions on behalf of the masses whilst getting her moderating on.