In loving memory of Linda Allene Watson Norman

My grandma was a heroine. In 2008, when I worked for the White House, she was so very proud of me. But she was also very sick, breast, bone and blood cancer having wracked her body. I was determined, to get my grandmother a tour of the West Wing. I had the passes, the day was set, we were outside of the West Wing, looking around for parking. We¬†finally find a parking space. And if you know anything about DC parking, you know that it’s no easy feat. As soon as my grandfather turns the car off, my grandmother realizes that she has left her identification in the hotel room.

My grandfather, grandmother and mother all have simultaneous meltdowns and the minivan was filled with devastation. But this was probably my proudest moment, because I came to the rescue! Hailing a cab Sarah Jessica Parker style I hauled ass to their hotel on Massachusetts Avenue, thundered down the halls and got into the room, grabbed the ID and sprinted back to the West Wing entrance within 18 minutes. I had saved the day and we spent the next hour wandering through the West Wing, visiting the Oval Office, standing at the National Press Secretary’s podium, reminiscing on generations past who would’ve never been able to see or do such things. I wanted that moment to be so terribly special for my family and it was.

A year later, my grandmother passed away. She didn’t get to see me cross the stage with my Bachelor’s Degree, but I know she was there. You see, it rained the moment I crossed the stage and anyone who knows Linda knows she was a weepy one.

***Please donate what you can so we can save others from breast cancer:*** http://www.gofundme.com/44wcno



God is real., Uncategorized

George Zimmerman is Not Guilty

George Zimmerman has been found not guilty of murdering Trayvon Martin. Besides the obvious feelings of injustice and anger, I feel most especially sorry for the family. This is like opening up a fresh wound, and no human really deserves to go through that.

Those of the Civil Rights Movement generation are looking to my generation and saying, “This is your Emmitt Till moment! Will you revolutionize?” Where do we go from this moment? Because I gotta tell you, I can’t just sit around after this and everything go back to the way it was.

Maybe we can’t stage sit-ins at counters anymore, and a cop wouldn’t dare put a fire hose to a bunch of black people in their own neighborhood, but now we need to think of a new way to protest. Is it an Internet protest? A retailer protest? What can WE do that would cause a big stink? And why haven’t we thought of it yet?

Now would be a good freaking time to get a THINK TANK together people. We need to brainstorm. Some of the most intelligent minds that I know could get on this and get an answer tomorrow. Within 24 hours, we could determine the way to revolutionize the world. The only issue is — will we organize to implement it?

I’m not sure about that. We’ve developed a real lacking desire to organize lately. The sororitys and fraternitys of yesteryear don’t really appeal to today’s generation like it did in the past. National organizations don’t have the same influence and power either. So — where does that leave us?

Unorganized and shit out of luck. I’m ever hopeful, though. All we need is a spark. Truly — that’s all any revolution has ever required. In celebration of Bastille Day today, we should recognize that all the French needed was to tear the fortress Bastille brick-by-brick. In the dark of night. All of the sudden, the restless city was in full revolution mode, all because a building that represented the monarchy no longer existed.

What will be our Bastille? Where’s the spark gonna come from? There are so many open questions that it makes my head spin. The worse part is the fact that I’m not willing to do something about it myself. All I can think of is my own life, my own bills, my desire to go to Graduate School next month, my job that pays the aforementioned bills, the gas that needs to go into the car, etc.

Why won’t I be the change I wish to see? Why am I still sitting here typing this to you instead of knocking out a door window?

Where’s our Malcolm X? Where’s our Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr? Who will we name our highways and streets in 30 years?

And most importantly: how will we get justice for Trayvon Martin?


June 20, 1989