why Texas is out of control

so today i logged into the University of Texas at Austin bookstore website... not sure if you all know, but a couple of weeks ago Texas beat USC to win the national football championship. it's kind of a big deal for texas fans... ya'll know i could care less. meanwhile, there is a special page on the website dedicated to the 2006 Championship, like footballs, pre-ordered dvds, books ("Texas Pride: the Story of a Championship"), mugs, posters, shotglasses, tshirts, beer mugs, wastebaskets, license plates... .... .... and it goes on for another eighteen pages. but my favorite item: a football autographed by Vince Young for $199.99. are u fucking serious??? sigh... why Texas, why?

back in austin, tx! (?)

never thought i'd say it, but i'm quite happy to be back in austin. it's sunny and about 80degrees. i have no classes for another week. i think tomorrow i'll go to the lake for the day. sure, there are no bourgeois black folk; no good radio stations; and no spelman... but i'm back in my own apartment (and away from my family members struggling to get along). i can curl up and watch a movie with my boyfriend whenever i want. i have a huge gym to use for free. and the nerd in me has to acknowledge it: the library is on point! so, i'm going to try something different in 2006, no more being bitter (secretly) that i'm not young, black, and fabulous in the atl... meanwhile, i've got a plan to keep up the good attitude: TRAVELING. next month i'll be driving down to houston to meet up with my old roommates for all-star weekend. then, in march, i'll be heading out to atlanta for toni cade...

confessions of a young black feminist: part I of many...

so i have a couple of new favorite songs, and i should be ashamed...but i'm not. they include:

1. "Nasty Girl" by B.I.G. and others... can't help but love that diddy
2. "Gettin Some Head" by Shawnna. i'm not even going to try to explain it. but the beat is bangin

written 1/1/06

damn, ya’ll, it’s 2006… 2005 was a great year. i learned to take advantage of the Atlanta social scene. made new friends. made a documentary. worked a fabulous job that, though problematic, forced me to become more assertive and less afraid of talking with new people. GRADUATED. moved to Texas. became a grad student. broke up with my first love. found the man of my dreams... met my cousin’s baby. lost a childhood friend. learned to be emotionally vulnerable. became a fan of live jazz. the list could on and on… i guess being here in 2006 not only means that i was fortunate to see another year… but that, being alive, i am still in the process of growth…

resolutions for 2006:
1. pay off credit cards
2. start a mutual fund
3. train for a marathon
4. (borrowing from Moya’s list) write on a daily basis
5. learn Portuguese
6. TRAVEL
7. find a way to connect with black students… not set on a specific age group

finally, a dinner conversation with my dad and godfather have left several thoughts with me regarding race. perhaps a point will follow later…
- black girls and interracial dating. many black women are still scarred from a childhood of socialization in which “beautiful” was a close to white as possible, whether it was through straight hair, “good” curly hair, long hair, lighter skin, light eyes, etc. etc. how many of us still possess the wounds left from feeling unwanted as girl children while black boys chased after white and latina girls? how much anger do we carry with us into public spaces frequented by black men/white women couples? what do we do for the black girls who deals with this today? additionally, what healing process do “we” (i.e. I) need to begin to allow people to be without sending out negative energy? at the same time, is it fair to assume that most black men date white women because they are presented as trophies in society through the media, etc.?
- blacks and higher education. blacks aren’t graduating from college like we should be. black men especially… black children aren’t being told about college. looking at my own cousins, black children are barely learning how to read, write, and add. i’m not trying to pretend that we’re the only ones experiencing this, but these are the people who look like me… there are so many levels to this problem, but nothing will change until parent become advocates for their children’s education.
- white people and white privilege - - mainly, most whites never think about race because they don’t interact with nonwhites (blacks) on a regular basis. their understandings of blackness is so incredibly limited that 1. they are threatened by blacks who are educated or have money even when they can’t recognize it in themselves 2. because they don’t use the n-word, don’t advocate racism or racial violence, and consider themselves to be “good Christians” they assume that they don’t need to deal with race and 3. frequently can’t comprehend the concept of a black person beyond the stereotypes of being poor, uneducated, and either a threat to society (violent, diseased, inferior culturally, etc.) or entertainers.

letting go

yesterday i decided to call chris to wish him a merry xmas. he had his newphew screen the phone call and make up a bullshit excuse when he realized it was me. ..."ouch" is the only thing i could say. i was like, damn, four years together and you can't even answer the phone yourself? ...this past week, especially, i kept thinking about how things had ended between the two of us... i guess between school and being in a new relationship i hadn't allowed myself the time to proccess all that had happened. i felt guilty... i kept wondering how i was going to "get over him," but that in itself was confusing for me... see, i wasn't not-"over him"... i don't love him anymore and i certainly don't want him back. so then i thought maybe it was that i was still attached to the concept of our relationship. but that wasn't quite true either. sure i could think of the good times, but the foundation of my relationship with him was built upon this inner feeling that we wouldn't make it - a feeling i secretly had had since the beginning. moving to austin made me acknowledge it. meeting martin gave me the courage to end it knowing that i was denying myself something stronger, deeper, and more fulfilling... and yesterday, after being hurt when he refused to talk to me, i realized what it was: i wanted his forgiveness for hurting him. yes, he hurt me several times over- and that's partially why i ended it- but i had already forgiven him. i wanted HIM to forgive ME. of course, this is stupid for two reasons. one is the obvious- i broke up with him because he is immature and selfish- clearly, he hasn't been overcome by feelings of guilt for what he did to me. he only wanted to "make things right" so he could be happy again. second, i can't expect him to forgive me for breaking up with him. i realize this now. i guess i thought becoming friends would signal that he had forgiven me. but if we were capable having a successful friendship we never would have broken up in the first place. so it's over. i'm not a part of his life anymore. he's not a part of mine. i'm letting go...and i'm ok with that.

before i reflect on the year 2005 (we still have a few days left)... i vow to leave my grudges behind with this day. life is too short, fragile, and valuable to waste it being mad at people. just one moment of anger/frustration/resentment is a moment that could be spent pursuing happiness... xmas is in less than two hours and the 10 o'clock news lists multiple people who have died today. i can only think of what their families must be going through...which is why i'm going to let go.

the day after

yesterday was amanda's funeral. it finally hit me that she's gone... sort of. we sat in the church and sang songs together, watching her family to see how they were doing and thinking of the incredible person we had all lost. and she was amazing. the priest came to the podium and began speaking by saying "amanda was full of life..." that hit me hard, speaking of someone in past tense, thinking of someone being full of life no longer... but it was so true. she did everything hard, laughed hard, cried hard, partied hard, and loved her friends and family... it's interesting what people remember about you when you've died. her sorority sisters from college talked about how she knew everyone on campus during undergrad. that she maintained her competetive edge even in intramural volleyball. that she was always on the phone and always up for a party. how she would drunk-dial her parents and friends. her closest friends from highschool remembered school dances and our trip to greece. how incredibly outgoing and caring for everyone she knew. ... if there's one thing i want to take away from this it's to take time to live it up NOW; not to wait until i have enough money or more time or have finished the semester. cause, honestly, i'm not worried about not having done enough before i die - clearly i won't be thinking about it then. what i don't want to happen is to live another ten, twenty years and look back on my life thinking, damn, i wasted so much time waiting for it to be the "right time."

to amanda

my plane got into chicago yesterday at 10:30am. i got home at 12:00. i found out that amanda died at 12:05... life is crazy. i hadn't talked to her in almost a year, yet last week (december 8) she sent me a message on facebook asking if i was coming home during the break. i told her i was, and she gave me her cell number. it's still in my phone... i was telling my friend about my facebook conversation with amanda the other day. i was looking forward to our meeting- i wanted to see what type of person she had become... i've known amanda since sixth grade. she was this loud, bossy girl who was, perhaps too serious about basketball and volleyball (i sucked at both but played anyway). i remember her crush on jonathan taylor thomas. i remember her obsession with jimmy buffet. the infamous trip to greece during our junior year. yearbook drama that she always managed to stay out of. the tea party i threw a month before we all started college. when i think of amanada, all i see is a tall, thin girl with bright eyes and a huge smile. i can still hear her voice. but what i can't see is her not being here. i think that it's only now beginning to hit me. she died two nights ago driving home in the snow. this is unreal... everytime i think of her being gone i have to think to something else. i don't know what to take away from this; i only think of what her parent must being going through. what her sisters have to come home to. and then i wonder what to do with myself. what do you do when your childhood friend dies? you go on of course, but doing what? setting up for xmas parties (as i had to do yesterday)? watch tv? buy presents? go shopping? when nakia died i learned to stop taking everything for granted. today i'm in disbelief. this is bullshit. life is incredible.

aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

so i've been working on this paper since thursday night and i now have -ya'll ready?- nine fucking pages... i'm so tired of staring at this screen that i have a headache and my mind has become numb. i just want to pack my bags and get on a plane to go home. i don't even care that it's thirty degrees (yes thirty) colder and there is snow everywhere. i just want to get out of austin and away from these books and not have to think about papers or grades or classes or jobs or the next five-six years of my life for a pitiful salary... i just wanna go home...

so i recognize that there is such a thing as property. legally "it" is not mine/ours... why the hell wouldn't you tell somebody in the first place? ok... no, it's not ours, but what about intellectual property? what about the fact that my blood, sweat, and tears will be on display across the country and i won't even know about it... i'm beyond pissed

privilege is a bitch

today in class my professor went around the class and asked us why we chose to study latin american history... ten minutes of bullshit... "life circumstances brought me to it." "friends from summer camp got me interested in the culture, though i'm afraid to visit the country because of its violence" [are u serious???] "i know that memories of the period are still fresh and there are a lot of untapped resources" R U FUCKING SERIOUS???!!! no, you are not studying people in latin america simply because of life circumstances, intrigue with the culture, or a love for the people; you study latin america because of something either deeply personal or extremely superficial and based on preconcived ideas of the region.

here's a summary of my response:
professor: Takkara, what do you wish to study in latin america?
takkara: race, class, and gender in Cuba.
p: why?
t: because race,class, and gender is how i define my life.
p: why Cuba?
t: well latin america because of the common history of slavery. cuba because of the parallels in social developments with the united states. i'm fascinated by the similarities and differences...

see the difference? no "i fell in love with the culture while i lived there." no "untapped archival documents to be analyzed." my research is personal and i have no shame. i wouldn't dare say i love salsa because the beat is bangin' (though it may be true for others). i love salsa because its sexy and sensual and, most of all, exotic. ... i'm through with this topic for the day... i'm sure i'll be back to it in the future.

can i just get this semester over with!

every time i look up i think, damn, i'm still in school... not that i'm upset that i've been in school for the past twenty-ish years and still going strong, but that i've been busting my ass (sort of) for the past several months... and it's still not over. i broke down about a month ago and lost all motivation. the only thing that keeps me going is the desire to finish strong. my classes are getting on my nerves. i have so much damn work that i never get to put the necessary effort into my weekly papers (though part of that is my own fault- i spend a little too much time being social during the weekends). the white students in my english class spend the majority of the class talking about form, imagery, and symbolism without jumping into the racial politics that shape the period we're studying... i'm just not trying to commend the use of primitivism in literature of the harlem renaissance and negritude movement as a "subversion of stereotypes" when the majority of readers were/are white and allowed such writings to reinforce their ideas of black inferiority. and i'm so bogged down by my work for my monday and tuesday classes that i never get to invest the amount of time necessary to really take in and analyze the readings for my wednesday class. ah, the life of a grad student... i could have worse problems. maybe that's why i'm not stressing like i normally would.

oh, and a random comment... i slept on marques houston; that song "naked" is secretly on point. maybe it's just me...

yes, i've been in hiding... with a man. his name is martin and he's wonderful. i'm having a hard time thinking about anything besides him and school. life is fabulous...

lost in translation

chris and i broke up last night. i told him that there was a sense of urgency on my side, which was why i needed to see him, but that he seemed to lack the same feelings. he was too complacent. i told him we needed to take a break until he could come see me and we could work out our issues face to face. i was tired of putting up with his excuses for why he couldn't come visit, or even give me a date to visit him. i was tired of his not having a job; of his not being motivated; of his disinterest in my life. i was tired of being young and in a committed relationship that was going nowhere. i feel guilty because of what i may have done to him. but i don't even know how he feels because he shut down weeks ago. and that was partically my fault- i pushed him away. if we are meant to be we'll come back together at another time when we're different people. i don't think so, though. i'm kind of numb. i don't really want to talk about it anymore.

right now i'm so living in a bubble/bundle of happiness with my friend who is the most amazing man i have ever met and is definately not my boyfriend... like i'm having a hard time keeping focused on my school work and even paying attention in some of my classes... and i've had the best conversations ever... and i actually get PHYSICALLY turned on by talking about the most mundane, having-nothing-to-do-with-sex topics... and we're so much alike and so perfectly different that it's crazy...and i constantly find myself learning new things and teaching him things and sitting and just being so overwhelmed looking into his eyes so i have to look away for a few moments just to keep from breaking down... and just when i feel silly for randomly thinking about him he calls... he's just this completely normal person who i know has flaws (somewhere) and i'm not holding him to any model of perfection, but i'm willing to take whatever comes my way because i feel like it's worth it... and there is so much that i could say, but i feel that it would betray a level of intimacy that i have never before experienced or even known to be possible... i didn't know this was possible...

the other day i told my boyfriend that i wanted to see other people. i told him it was because our relationship (friendship... conversations) was falling apart, and i often felt i was too young to be in a relationship defined by drama. we're still together, and it was my choice. i had been contemplating ending it all for a couple of weeks, but, faced with the prospect of nevr seeing the man i've loved for the past four years again, i told him i wanted to give it one last try. i don't quite know why, but it felt right. was it becasue i'm scared? am i waiting for a reason to hate him? all i see right now are the good times. maybe that is how i should leave it... i've cried for two days, and i don't know what to do. i just want to control everything... and in doing so, i've found myself in this latest position: fighting for and against my relationship simultaneously. chris hasn't done anything. i don't know if it's becasue he wants out, though i don't think so. he said he felt it coming, and i think maybe he feels he's already lost. or maybe he doesn't know what to do. but i've forced my controlling self to take a step back from fighting and just be for a few moments... the problem is, chris isn't doing anything either. and that's the worst part; it hurts to think that after all of this time he'd not feel it worth the effort to keep us together. i want to yell at him, "why won't you fight for me?" "why won't you fight for us?" this shit sucks. we have so much potential as a couple, which is why i want us to try to work it out, but, but i think i killed the momentum with my honesty. at least i got the ball rolling... i told him i needed to see him to reconnect. he still hasn't said anything. just that he wishes we could have our relationship without complications. what is that??? i'm putting the ball in his court...

check this out

ok so i had to write another blog... i just found out some really interesting/cool/slightly-weird stuff out. so my "friend" is orignially from chicago, the same city as my family. i was raised baptist, as were my parents, but my mother's mother was raised methodist. my friend is methodist, and his mother is originally from chicago (maybe now you can see where this is going... maybe not). he said that his parents met at St. Mark Methodist Church in chicago. i remember my late, great-great aunt going to a church named St. Mark. at first we thought, "hey, a church named St. Mark is the same as a church named Mt. Zion; there are dozens of them." So, just now, he called his parents to ask where the church was located in chicago. i called my mom to ask her where my aunt's church was. then- u ready? - he, sitting next to me, and my mom, on the phone, both said the same address at the same time! now i know you're thinking, OK, but it gets better. my parents were married at the church in 1978; his were married there in 1979. his grandfather probably played my parent's wedding. his mother was raised in the church, and my aunt was a life-long member. his parents still attend the church, as do several of my aunts... isn't that crazy?! and my mother said that we probably crossed paths as children, cause my mother used to take me to church events. maybe we met years ago...

(re)evaluating the system

so i love my professor... he's a mexican scholar of latin american history who's about to leave ut-austin for uchicago. meanwhile, he's probably one of the realest professors out of the latin americanists (aside from my advisor). he's constantly going off about how we construct latin american history... for example, when we think of latin america in the twentieth century we immediately see images of peasant revolutions, corrupt governments, passion/sex, and macho men/submissive women... the issue is that we (i'm using the term we loosely) act like these phenomena exist only in latin america-- clearly the same things can be said about the united states and europe...

meanwhile, today's conversation focused on the role of the intellectual. as a scholar-in-training, i and many others that may read this blog aspire to someday publish articles and books that will aid in transforming the academy... but can we really? and how? true, we can insert various aspects of identity often ignorned by our counterparts into the field of history, anthropology, art, feminist theory, etc... but what about the revolution? how far will they let us go in being radical? i want to challenge captialist values that shape our social relations as collegues. i want to call people out on being pseudo-activists, on identifying as liberals and studying the "subaltern" (this term deserves some serious discussion in itself) but refusing to have them/us as neighbors. i want them to recognize that we all have political agendas in our research... clearly my saying fuck bullshit conservative canonial texts won't get me a degree... let's talk about why we are people of the united states studying latin america in the first place. let's ask ourselves how our research is going to help end poverty, rape, child abuse, and worker abuse. and what am i doing about this??? at the moment, nothing. but i still have hope for developing an agenda...

which brings me back to my professor. he mentioned that many scholars see history as liberatory. i don't quite understand how though. most of our research only reinforces the status quo... and concepts of liberatory are relative; our conceptualization of such terms are inherently subjective. everyone has their own idea of "revolution." where is our common ground?

he identified the catch 22 in writing history: we write about oppressed identities (race, gender, sexuality, etc) to attack discrimination and work towards liberation, but aren't we reinforcing binary constructions of difference in the process? social constructions of identity are, indeed, constructions. they're not real. but there are material realities to these constructions. so what do we do? many writers (some examples can be found in the literature produced during the harlem renaissance) chose/choose to define themselves as "american" and deny any racial affiliation. it pisses me off... but are they onto something? what is our plan? perhaps we should fight to create equality, but view it as steps towards a society without difference? is this even possible?

my professor also challenged us to think beyond writing books for academic audiences. most books are never read, especially not by the people whose stories we claim to be examining. and, for most of us, our language is not accessible... so do we write stories for those outside of the academy? what will we write about? who will publish them? will they be read, and how will they help transform the world? maybe books and articles are the wrong approach... how about documentaries? or community forums? how will we bring our scholarship back to the community? and what is the community?

just a few thoughts...

this weekend was FANTABULOUS!!! aside from the fact that i have successfully avoided doing ANY work (and i will soon be regretting this decision as the night approaches), i had a ton of fun (hehe that rhymes). friday i went out with some friends for dinner, then we got a bunch of wine and drank before going to a club. it was an undergrad party, but 1. i was too drunk to notice, and 2. there were a bunch of non-undergrads present... i don't know if that's sad or disturbing or both or neither... i had on this very cute, jessica simpson-esque turquoise dress with no straps and kind of flouncy at the bottom. and flats because i didn't want the children to think i was getting dressed-up for them. i danced with a whole bunch of people until my "friend" showed up... come to think of it, maybe i should begin my wonderful weekend on thursday when he and i went to see The Gospel (the movie)... anyway, after the party at the club, we went to another party sponsored by the african students association. the party was amazing- with some of the sexiest men i've seen in awhile, and good music from africa, the caribbean, and the u.s. (dirty south and a couple of oldies). my "friend" met me there too and we only danced with each other... now anyone who has ever seen me dance knows that i believe dancing should be sexual (what else would the point be?), and he is one of THE best dancers ever! maybe even THE best??? after the party i dropped my friends off and he and i went to ihop. i got home at seven in time to see the sky becoming light blue... saturday we went running (we're now up to three and a half miles). then i got some wonderful sonics mozzarella sticks for the second time this week and went to bed before midnight. this morning we went to church... yes, takkara went to church. i'm having a lot of fun, but i keep asking myself, are we dating? technically, no. i have a boyfriend, i tell him stories about chris (which i'm sure he hates but i don't care), and we never talk about being anything more than friends. but we only dance with each other when we're at the club together, we go out alone, and talk like two people dating and trying to get to know each other would. interesting...

it is cold outside, and wet, and cloudy. it reflects my mood quite well... something deep inside feels uneasy and has me on edge. i'm not quite sure of what's going on. last night my boyfriend asked me if i felt that we had grown apart... i told him no (and i wasn't lying), but i think he feels differently. then he asked if i was seeing anyone else out here in austin??? i wanted to tell him not to put his insecurites on me. but i was nice. i just told him no. i told him that i wouldn't do such a thing to him. and then i gave him 101 reasons why. i should have said "fuck you" and hung up the phone... i don't really think that this has anything to do with me. i think that he either has done something or wants to do something...which honestly doesn't bother me. i just want him to be honest. the thing is, though, i'm not being completely honest. i want to talk to other guys. i want to date around. part of me is holding back because i have so much invested in this relationship and i love him. i don't want to break it off and regret it. but another, maybe larger part of me is fed up with his lack of drive, immaturity and selfishness. every week i realize more and more that he's not the man i want to marry. maybe it's just a phase? i'm not quite ready to have him out of my life. but i'm also not in the mood to play all of that john legend, ordinary people bullshit. i'm just not sure that it's worth it. there are so many days when i wonder how/why we've even come this far together. but he's taught me alot about myself: to take myself less seriously, not to get angry so quickly, to be more affectionate, to appreciate sports... i appreciate him for that; i really do. but maybe we've outgrown each other. at least maybe i've outgrown him...