My 2 Cents

My heart hurts deeply today. My news feed is filled with "Guns are my right", "This is complete injustice", "We don't know all of the facts so it may have been a justified killing", "You're a racist if you mention race.", and "If you have compassion for someone that may have made some poor choices, you're the problem and probably a racist."

All day long, I've been in different conversations where the two recent shootings have been brought up. Do you know what it felt like to listen? I felt sad, uncomfortable, a bit angry, guilty, and fearful. For a moment, I wished that people would stop talking about it and then guilt set in. Why should I feel guilty when I didn't harm anyone? I should feel guilty because I wanted people to just stop talking. The problem with everyone keeping their mouths shut is that it makes others think it is okay and that no one cares. How are people to know how we're feeling if we keep it all bottled up?

I am sad because of the many lives lost to violence. I am sad that children will grow up without their fathers. Someone's mom, dad, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, grandma, grandpa, cousin, or friend is in mourning. Those people will never get to see that loved one in person again. They're left behind to pick up the pieces, figure out how to pay the bills, how to heal, how to move on, and how to deal with the world. It's hard enough to grieve, but to grieve with the awful opinions that people have formed of your loved one has to be unbearable.

Anger is not an emotion that I thought I would feel after seeing one of these videos. I feel angry to read some of my friends' Facebook posts and to know that some of them aren't even willing to listen to another opinion. To continue to see shootings like this happen makes me angry. Listening to people say "If black lives matter then why are black people always killing each other?" makes me angry. We are all so quick to scream that a few bad people in a particular group doesn't make the entire group bad. That's a pretty sensible thought, right? There are people that do awful things in every group! We don't get to believe that then devalue the group as a whole due to some bad people. What makes me really angry is the lack of compassion. It seems that people think if they feel compassion for someone that may have done something wrong then they're a bad person. News flash: You can have compassion for people that have made poor choices!

Fear, what an overwhelming emotion to live with all of the time! I am fearful because I'm bringing a child into this world. A world where people lack compassion, too many accidents happen, people kidnap each other, rape each other, burn down homes, and awful shootings happen. Now let's add race into those terrible events. It seems logical that we all worry about a loved one not making it home at some point. I worry a little more because I know my husband's chances of not making it home are a bit higher. He may be out with friends and find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know for a fact, he will be a respectful man, but that may not be enough to save him. Will my child have to face these same struggles? More than likely. It's enough to fret over the same  things as everyone else, but to add something else is tough.

I truly believe that black lives matter. When I say black lives matter, I'm in no way, shape, or form saying anyone else matters less. All I'm doing is bringing someone else's life to the forefront of your mind. Think of all the "racially motivated" categorized shootings you can think of. I'm sure at least one comes to mind. Now, pretend none of those people have a race. Pretend that the man on the ground that was just shot is your father. Do you still feel the same way? I want you to think about why someone might feel the need to say such a thing. We should all take the time to ponder how others are treated and why that may be the case. Is there cause for such mistreatment? Am I experiencing something that we're all supposed to be granted, but someone else is being kept away from? If I were different, would someone still treat me the same? When is it okay to kill someone? No one should feel like they have to go tit for tat to justify how they're feeling. No one should have to post a video of a similar incident to make people realize injustice. We should be able to feel these things, say them, and have someone try to understand. My life matters, Your life matters. We all matter.

I wish we understood each other. I mean truly understood the fears and realities that each other face. It's one thing to say we understand, but completely different to just listen. When we actually listen, we might be able to empathize. Listening gives us a glimpse into a world many people will never know. It allows us to know what it's like to walk in someone else's shoes without being able to do so. It might even trigger a change in us. We might realize that deep down, we felt a certain way or thought something that was just ignorant. We will never truly know what it's like to be someone else, but understanding will close a gap. Listening and having conversations with each other could change the world. Be kind. Value the lives of our fellow humans no matter their occupation, sex, sexual orientation, or race.

Contentment

I lead a pretty good life, at least in my eyes, it's good. I have a loving husband, own a house, and love my job. My husband and I are able to support ourselves comfortably. I'd say that makes me quite content.

After finishing a novel, I felt inspired. The novel inspired me to be better. Striving to be better than I was the previous day has been my goal for years now. Have I met that goal? I surely hope so. Even so, I can still be better.  Most of the time, if a stranger asks for some change, I'm likely to give it to them. Sometimes I'll donate money to some charity that the cashier has to push, but none of that is enough. I don't do any of those things on a consistent basis. Am I really making a difference? Yes and no. That change could make the difference on whether a person gets to eat today or not. Every dollar counts towards charity, right? Those little things are just a ripple in a big pond.

I want to give back and help other people be better. Giving back to others is where I have fallen short lately. My mindset has been myself, my husband, and our goals. There's not necessarily anything wrong with my focal point, but there's so many other people out in the world. I could be making a difference yet here I sit idly. I realized that I can't be content since I'm not doing anything to help others.

I want to help others see that there is a way out. They need to know that it will be hard and others may try to stop them, but they are more than capable. We all need a little help some time. There's nothing wrong with asking for help or allowing someone to help.

Some things that I plan to do are volunteer. I've volunteered up until about last year. I love the Real Charitable Housewives of Delaware organization. I'd love to volunteer with them again. An organization that is close to my heart is Operation Gratitude. You can help by visiting Ways to Help: Operation Gratitude I really enjoy writing letters and try to incorporate this into my classroom also. Now I'm off to search for other ways to make a difference.

"Have a Kid Later in Life", They Said!

There have been several articles that suggest that women are having babies later in life. That seems great, right? Having a child later in life might mean you have more of a chance to chase your dreams and enjoy success. Your struggle to achieve those dreams may be easier. You might be better prepared if you wait. There are so many things that might happen if you wait to have a child later in life. Who knows what will really happen?

I'll be 29 this year and have no children. It isn't because I don't love children, I absolutely do. I have no children for several reasons. I am a planner and I had a plan for my life. My plan was go to college, get a job, get married, buy a house, and have children. So boring, right? That's me! Wait, there's more! I wanted to be married for at least two years before having children. When I was a child, I thought 28 would be a good age to have a child. I achieved all of my prerequisites for having a child, but then I decided to plan around the school year. The window was open to attempt to conceive, but I got cold feet. Numerous questions were running through my mind. Could we afford daycare and all of our other bills with our salaries? Was I prepared for the challenges that would come? Were we mature enough? Are we strong enough in our marriage to bring a child into our lives? My many thoughts interfered with the conception window. I waited too long and the window closed.

After we did not conceive, I felt thankful. The lives of people around us were changing rapidly. It was looking like we'd be called upon to raise my nieces or at least one of them. Knowing that we might be taking on a one year old and a five year old terrified me. I thanked God that we did not conceive because I couldn't imagine raising three children. Of course, it is possible, but I was not up to the challenge! We are not taking care of my nieces and still childless.

So here I sit without kids. Almost all of my friends have kids and many of them are on their second. I love my friends. Most of them are just as awesome now that they have kids, but some have become self righteous. Now maybe I think this because I'm bitter or maybe they really are self righteous! Anyway, I don't hang out with any of them all too often. We have less in common now which is obvious and natural. Some people take this as you were never a good friend if you come around less after a child. It's a natural life progression. When you get married, you hang out less with single people and no one gets offended by that! I'm the friend who will go to Chuck E. Cheese with a friend and their kids or go to the park and play with the kids. I get that life changes after kids and that's fine, but that goes both ways. Some will talk about their kids all darn day and I can only sit for so long.

Being in my age bracket surrounds me with children. I teach. Guess what most of the teachers have in common? Children! Waiting to have children has kind of left me on the outside. I don't go many places that will allow me to meet other married women that don't have children. No one ever told me that waiting would make me feel this way. They never said people would think you're miserable because you don't want to spend all of your time with them and their kids. I didn't know I would find myself sad over the lack of time I spend outside of my house. There wasn't anyone to say that mothers would look down on me thinking I had no knowledge of children. I wasn't aware of how many times I would hear, "It's not the same as having your own."

This too shall pass.

Fear

When you are a child, you think you know it all. You believe that you understand the world that we live in. You may or may not believe that most people are good, but have the potential to do bad things. As you get older, sometimes your views change because of experiences or you've had a chance to understand different points of view.

My husband is a black man in America. Is he a gang banger? No. Has he ever done drugs or gone to jail? No. Sure, he has broken the law, but it's the same typical lawbreaking that most of us do. You know what he has done? He has loved wholeheartedly, cared for other people's animals, and always been there with a helping hand. Those details are things most people don't know. How could they? They don't know him.

My husband is a go lucky, comic lover, gaming type of guy. He knows hardship. Hardship is growing up in the ghetto of inner city Philadelphia. It's learning to run fast to avoid trouble. It is learning to fight so you don't get beat up everyday. It is knowing that the kid next to you in class probably won't eat dinner, but you'll be able to have seconds. Watching people participate in shady dealings is nothing surprising. Being followed by store owners was a normal part of life. He experienced hate early on in life. As a young child, my husband saw some pretty rough things, but he decided not to be a statistic.

Recently, my husband and I traveled to New York. My husband was extremely worried about going and kept expressing that he hoped the protesting was over. I was pretty surprised that he wanted the protests to end. He was not a fan of the Eric Garner verdict or of some other incidents that had taken place. I remember us discussing how people needed to stand up for what's right even if that meant protesting. I sat there wondering, what's changed? Fear. It was pure fear that made my husband want the protests to end.

We were sitting on the couch catching up on shows when he offers me his work code. He begins to tell me what to do in the event that he's addressed. I'm pretty sure I look horrified in that moment. I could only utter, "You're joking, right?" He was not joking at all. My husband proceeded to show me videos of brutality. If he were to get arrested, I was to immediately take all of his belongings. In order for him to maintain his position at work, I would have had to call a number and enter a code. All of this was too much. "What would you possibly get arrested for?" I asked. He looked me dead in the face and simply said, "For being a young black man in America." The sad thing is with everything going on, he was absolutely right. I'm happy to say that New York was a blast and neither of us was arrested.

Recent events have made it so I don't understand my husband. I get he's scared, but how can I truly understand that? I can't because I am not a black man. I don't worry that as I'm walking down a busy street that someone will falsely accuse me of a crime. I don't worry that while peacefully protesting, I'll be singled out and injured. Every time I see police sirens behind me, I don't become terrified that I might go to jail or be unfairly harassed.

When I take the time to think about how afraid my husband is, I feel sad. I feel sad that he doesn't get to truly be comfortable in his own skin wherever he goes. All I can do is pray & hope that he doesn't have to deal with any of his fears.

Burnt Bacon

RB does not cook...for the most part. If he can make it in the microwave then he might cook it right. The most recent adventure RB & I had involved bacon. I love bacon! I asked RB to cook some bacon and he went at it.

RB went to the kitchen and found a pot to cook the bacon in. He put the bacon in the pot and returned to his computer. He claims it was only a minute or two, but his bacon burned. Wait, burned isn't the right word, it disintegrated. The smoke began to rise upstairs and spread throughout the house. We could have rented the house out for a party stating there was a built in smoke machine. It became hard to breathe or even see through the smoke clouds. We proceeded to open the back door & windows and turn the fans on. The end result was a horribly disgusting stench. The smell lingered for days! You could smell it before you even entered the house.

RB decided he wanted to give bacon another try. When I came downstairs to check on him he told me he messed up again. My first thought was "Ugh, we're not going to ever have bacon!" I asked how and he said the bacon was stuck to the pot. RB told me he forgot to add vegetable oil. Uhhh, oil for bacon!? His first few pieces in the oil were already burning.

I told him that you don't need to add oil to bacon, it will make it's own grease. Next, I turned the burner down. The grease was popping pretty high and RB put on sunglasses to protect his eyes! In the beginning, he got distracted and didn't turn the bacon soon enough and it would burn.

I am proud to say that he successfully cooked the rest of the bacon. Of course I remained close by to supervise the bacon making. We enjoyed delicious bacon for two days. These kitchen adventures are becoming highly entertaining. He teaches me, I teach him.

The Can Opener Fiasco

I'd like to think of myself as a talented person with a good head on my shoulders. There are plenty of things I can do well and then there are some I fail miserably at doing. They say people can be book smart yet lack common sense. With that said, the use of a very common household item escapes me.

I am nearly 25 and am just learning to use a manual can opener. You're probably wondering how I got by in life not being able to use a simple contraption. Well, when I was a child we had two manual can openers. We had the big bulky one and the plain silver one. I had seen my mother use both on many occasions and never caught on how to do it myself. Once my mother began teaching me how to cook she expected me to open cans. She gave me lessons on using the can opener and I just couldn't get it down. After watching me fail several times my mother gave in and got an electric can opener. *Hallelujah!*

Having an electric can opener meant never having to use a manual one. I became very dependent on the electric one. Whenever I needed to open a can, I stood in a corner forcing my can onto the machine. The thing is I couldn't even always get the electric can opener to work right! Sometimes it would take me a couple of tries, but I always succeeded.

Recently I was forced into a situation where I had to use a manual can opener. I asked for help with the can opener and got "You can graduate college but can't use a can opener!?" Instead of doing it for me, RB attempted to teach me. He showed me several times how to do it and even explained each step. I became beyond frustrated when I couldn't open the can. I'd get a hole in it and then not be able to continue turning it. A couple of times I would get the can partially open and require help for the rest.

Due to the help of RB, I was able to use a manual can opener on my own for the very first time. I was so proud I put it as a status on Facebook. I'm pretty sure someone read it and thought "This has to be one of the dumbest things I've read!" Ah well, my friends got a good laugh. I haven't had to use the can opener again, but I'm hoping I am successful on my first try.