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Such Is Life

@mikeysbride / mikeysbride.tumblr.com

Wife. Mother of 2. Photographer. Singer. Blogger. Over thinker. Seeker of Solitude. Welcome to my blog.
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To College Or Not to College: That Is the Question

Recently, my daughters stopped me in my tracks with a question I wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t about boys or peer pressure. Nothing like that. We were in the car, and from the back seat, they asked me if everyone HAS to go to college. After a few seconds, I answered, “Well, *I* did. It wasn’t a choice in my family. It was expected, period. But no, it’s not a law that everyone has to go to college.” They were apparently pleased with that answer, cheering after I gave it. Then they said, “Good because we’ve had enough of school.” 

This conversation took me aback because I honestly never considered they wouldn’t want to go to college. Both my husband and I went to college, as did our parents, and like I said, it was basically a given in my family. I think it was the same for my husband. My dad even taught college English for almost 30 years. My husband’s parents were also both teachers, as was his grandfather who was the Head of the Music Department at the University of Florida at one time. I was groomed from an early age to pursue higher education from everyone from my grandparents to my aunts and uncles. It’s just what we do in my family. So, of course, when my girls were born and I imagined the story of their lives, college was a natural part of it.  

My girls are biracial, but speaking from my own viewpoint as a Black woman, I think that going to college may have also been ingrained in myself and the others born into my family because there was certainly a time in this country when folks who look like us weren’t able to do so. Like voting and owning property, a college education was once something we were denied simply because we have a darker complexion. It only stands to reason, we should take advantage of it. Having a degree is also widely seen as a way to a better life, and since Black people routinely have to be the best of the best at everything we do in order to be taken seriously, of course going to college would be considered part of that. 

Even though I did go to college, I stopped at a Bachelor of Science. My degree is in Mass Communications with an emphasis in Radio/TV Broadcasting. Have I ever used it? No. Even in school, I was over it. I took most of my electives in Music Industry classes because I much preferred them, and my adviser was kind enough to approve it. To actually change my major would’ve meant staying in school longer, but that was out of the question. Much like my daughters, I’d had enough of school. So, I hunkered down and got out of there in exactly 4 years like a good girl. 

I’ve often said since my college years that college is not for everyone, and it’s certainly no guarantee of happiness or a higher income. While I fully understand why my family pushes its members to go to college, I can also appreciate that that’s not the only way to have a comfortable life. There’s a lot to be said for learning a trade and learning it well. Where would we be without talented plumbers and mechanics? We’d be stuck on the side of the road, and all our drains would be clogged. Not to mention, I am super artsy fartsy and would’ve left college in a heartbeat if I’d been offered a recording contract. Not everyone is meant to be a doctor or a lawyer. It takes all kinds to make the world go around. 

Do I still want my daughters to go to college? Absolutely. But only if it’s really what they want. And they might decide it is what they want when the time comes. One is in middle school now, and the other will be joining her there this fall. So, time will tell. Either way, what’s important is that they have goals and a plan. After the year we’ve had dodging COVID-19 and balancing virtual school and then making the transition back into traditional classrooms, it’s been a lot. It would probably be weird if they WEREN’T tired of school. Truthfully, I’m tired too, and I’m not even a student or a teacher! Eventually the dust will settle from the chaos of the pandemic. Maybe then, we can all breathe a sigh of relief. And maybe then, my girls will reconsider sending in those college applications in a few years because while having a college degree isn’t everything, it certainly doesn’t hurt.

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2020: So Long, and Good Riddance

It’s New Year’s Eve, the last day of a year that’s been less than ideal for most of us to say the least. I expect that, like most any year, I’ll be in bed asleep long before midnight. This, even though I’ve (half) joked that I should stay awake just to make sure 2020 actually leaves.

It’s been a year when we’ve seen a global pandemic affect every aspect of our daily lives. A year when civil discourse was intensified and where a brutal presidential election dominated the news cycle. When we’ve been asked to wear masks in public, stay home, and keep at least 6 feet away from others outside our households as much as possible and seen a large portion of the population refuse to do even that - the bare minimum to protect ourselves and each other. As a result, we’ve also seen hundreds of thousands of people catch COVID-19 and pass away and countless others recover from it only to still have long-term health concerns to contend with in its aftermath. A year where businesses shut down - permanently, in some cases - and families struggled to make ends meet after parents lost jobs. Kids did school at home on the internet, and those of us who could, worked at home too. And personally, it’s a year when I lost my father-in-law (thankfully, not to COVID, but lost nonetheless) and faced my own (also not COVID-related) health scare that I thought might cost me my own life. I still feel effects from that and will have to be cognizant of it for the rest of my life to do all I can to prevent a recurrence. For more on that, see my other recent posts.

Despite all that had to be sacrificed this year, there have been some bright spots. Thankfully, my husband and I have both managed to keep our jobs when so many others have not, and we have been fortunate to have the privilege to work at home for parts of the year, which was a godsend while the kids have been doing school virtually. On somewhat of a whim, we got a new car a few months ago - one I’ve wanted a while and am thrilled to finally have for my long commutes when I do have to go into the office. We’ve enjoyed having more time at home as a family, as that’s honestly our favorite thing, especially in a year that deprived us of Disney World, concerts, dining out at restaurants, and movie theaters; we’ve been grateful that we are so good at entertaining each other. We also got to see a return to reason and hopefulness with the election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris to the White House. We are long overdue to move past the circus the Trump administration has been. We also have new vaccines for COVD-19 now, albeit in record time that some find suspicious, but they’re here, and hopefully they will put us on a course to a more normal world sooner than later.

And last, but never least, there has been music. Music has always been the great love of my life (aside from my husband, of course), and this year was no different in that regard. Although, live concerts were minimal, virtual concerts, CDs, and playlists still got me through 2020. As everyone else, I pray 2021 will be a vastly better year than 2020 has been for us as a nation and as a global community. It’s been hard all around, but through it all, there will still be music - happy, sad, or indifferent. I’ll end here with a shout out to some of the artists I’ve listened to the most this year: Allen Stone, Samm Henshaw, Tenille Townes, Richard Marx, Jon Pardi, Kelsea Ballerini, Tom Petty, The Chicks, Lukas Graham, and David Bowie. They may never know just how much their work lit the way for me to survive this crazy year, but I know, and I won’t forget. Thank you to music for always making the world a better, more bearable place.

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2020 Can Go to Hell

Oh, wait. It feels like it already has. And I’m tired. I don’t know how much more of this dumpster fire I can take.

Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. George Floyd. These are names I only know because they’re the latest in a string of names of people who looked like me and were unjustly killed by racists who also happened to be wearing police badges or who had worn them at one time. They should still be here with their families and friends. Instead, they’re hashtags now because this country has a racism problem that it conveniently ignores. Black people in this country are routinely profiled and killed by police or police wannabes who are sometimes arrested as a formality but rarely, if ever, convicted. As a race, we’ve given our Black sons the speech about being respectful of police since even before my time, but when it’s glaringly obvious that respectability is not a guarantee that you’ll come out alive and that even Black women are not safe, what then? What NOW? They kill our people and then look for anything they can use to justify why it was the victim’s fault. I am tired.

Christian Conner. Though not killed, this man (incidentally, about as respectable as a man of any race can get) was flat out bullied by a white woman in Central Park because he nicely asked her to leash her dog, which is the rule...which she was not following. He began filming her tirade, and what did she do? She immediately threatened to call the police and tell them a Black man was attacking her, and she proceeded to do just that. Do you think she did that because she was actually in danger? Hell, no. She did that because she knew the cops would come and likely assume she was in the right because of the color of her skin versus the color of Christian’s skin, despite the fact that the video he recorded clearly shows she was in the wrong, right down her dog that she was practically choking to death with the leash in question by the end of the altercation. Thankfully, she’s lost her dog AND her job as a result of her ignorance. What company worth anything would want to be associated with that behavior? Apparently, not them. And thankfully, Christian is still here to live another day and tell his story because things didn’t turn out the way she banked on them turning out. She may not have wanted him killed, but at the very least, she expected the cops to side with her because of who she is. The truth is there should be no story here. He did nothing wrong. Actually, he did everything right, but without that video, it would’ve been his word against hers, and I doubt the first assumption would’ve been that he was the one telling the truth. We shouldn’t need a video to prove that we are worthy of being believed. I am tired.

I’m also tired of COVID-19. All the racial disparities in this country are tiresome at any time, but to still be dealing with that while also trying to survive a pandemic is absolutely exhausting. It’s like practically everything shut down because of the virus except racism. We couldn’t get lucky enough for that to take a break. Racists just decided to make up for lost time, I guess. The real threat of COVID-19 is still here, though, and with states so eager to reopen everything prematurely, the cases of the virus have been increasing, although we may never know just how much. It doesn’t fit the narrative of opening everything if they admit that things are not as OK as they’re making them out to be. Meanwhile, people have basically decided the threat is over, as if this virus had an expiration date. Just because they’re bored, and it’s warm outside doesn’t mean COVID-19 has magically gone away. It’s still here, folks, and it’s still killing people. Their opening things up isn’t about it being safe. It’s about the powers that be wanting to open the economy. It’s always about money. Money over people. Since my last post just a couple of weeks ago, the number of COVID-19 deaths in this country alone has doubled. Doubled! Did I mention that I am tired?

My family and I have stayed home since March, only going out to pick up groceries or takeout for the most part. Any errands we ran, we ran because we needed to, and we took precautions. We homeschooled our kids and followed the rules. Now school is over, and things are opening back up, so my husband and I are both expected to return back to working physically in our respective offices, and I’m not thrilled about it. We’d still like to be able to stay safe at home, but now we’ll be required to be out of the house for work again. Neither of us feels this is the best course of action, but we also have bills. Sadly, we aren’t independently wealthy and have not won the lottery (which we don’t even play), so off to work we’ll be going. Reluctantly, but faithfully. What we will not be doing is going out unnecessarily beyond that just because the government officials want us to believe the coast is clear. I assure you it is not. There have already been increased virus cases from people not continuing to social distance and/or not wearing masks, and there will be more. We’ll be the ones doing what we can to try our best to not be included in that number, thank you very much. Trying to juggle what we know in our hearts that we need to do versus what we have to do to support our family is especially stressful given all this, so yes, I am tired.

And since it loves to pour when it rains, it is with sadness that I tell you my father-in-law passed away last week. It was not related to the pandemic, thankfully, but that doesn’t make losing him hurt any less. From the time he went into the hospital to the time we buried him was only about 2 weeks. He treated me like his own daughter from the day I met him, and he was fiercely protective of me and the whole family. I will miss his humor and his advice. I am sitting in his favorite chair as I type this, and it’s not lost on me that he should be sitting here instead. But he’s not. Yes, he’s in a much better place than we all are at this point, but we will miss him dearly. While I am sad he’s gone, I know it pales in comparison to what my husband and his mom and siblings must feel. If he could impact me this deeply in the short 16 years I knew him, imagine how they feel after loving him for so much longer? Also as of last week, my in-laws had been married 47 years. His not being here is a lot to process. We are ALL tired.

I don’t really feel pressed to concentrate on anything else at this point, least of all work or the demands of anyone else who might remotely expect anything from me right now. I need a break from all of it but doubt I’ll get one anytime soon. There always seems to be someone wanting me to do something when all I want to do is be still. I’m emotionally drained and desperately need a reset button. I’m tired of racism. Tired of COVID-19. Tired of having to be so damn responsible all the time. Tired of grief. Just plain tired.

2020 is broken. Just throw the whole damn thing away.

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I’ve been dreading this day. It’s the one-year anniversary of the day my mom called with the news that we’d lost my cousin in that horrible, senseless car wreck. She was on the phone with my husband, and all I heard from her side was, “...and Robin didn’t make it.” Those words have haunted me and played like a broken record in my head ever since. A year later, I still can’t believe it’s true - that it wasn’t just an awful dream. I think of her daily. I miss her daily. My heart is broken, and I still cry for her. She didn’t have to die and would still be here if not for someone else’s negligence, and I think that hurts most of all. Rest In Peace, Robin. In my heart, I’ll never let you go. 💜🕊

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I Miss the Village

I grew up with something my kids don’t have. I grew up with the village - aunts, uncles, countless cousins, and grandparents who all lived in the same city. That’s not even accounting for our close-knit church family or the fact that we actually knew our neighbors back then. My parents had help on all sides. Finding a reliable babysitter was not an issue. Birthdays and holidays were huge affairs spent with everyone together, and I assumed, in my youthful innocence, it would always be that way.

Fast forward to now, when I have my own kids. Many of the village, myself included, have moved away, and many of the elders have passed away. My mother lives 12 hours away, and my husband’s parents are closer but still a couple of hours away, so we don’t actually see them all that often.  And then there’s my dad, who is basically like one of our dependents due to premature dementia. When we are able, we still go to another church where we live, but we don’t have the same sense of family there. Part of that may be because we aren’t there as often as we should be, but I digress. 

There are people my spirit aches to live closer to, but it’s not just a matter of moving back home - which is home for me but not for my husband. A lot of the people I ache to be near aren’t even in my hometown, nor are they related to me. In a sense, they are family, though. I’ve found that sometimes friends are more like family than blood relatives. More loyal and more supportive. But again, most of the friends who fall into that category don’t really live anywhere near us. And the one who really did, moved away.

Growing up, I took for granted that when I had kids, their childhood would look a lot like mine did in terms of the support system around them and the help I’d have at my disposal. We get those things on occasion, but not so much on a regular basis. Most of the time, it’s not much of a problem. It just gets sketchy sometimes when there’s a job I’d like to take but can’t because there won’t be anyone to watch the kids or pick them up or take them where they need to be. Or when my husband and I want to go out but don’t want to ask a friend to watch them. Or when it’s time for holidays or birthdays, and it’s not a given that any of the kids’ grandparents will be present unless we travel to see them, which we aren’t always able to do. 

It’s at those times when I especially miss the village. Raising a family isn’t impossible without it, but sometimes it would make it a little easier. Because even when you are a mom, some days you still need your mommy.

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Good Day

Today was a good day. Actually, it was better than good. I picked up my dad, and my husband's parents came down to see us too. We all spent the afternoon hanging out at my house together. That's it. For a while, the kids had 3/4 of their grandparents in one place again, and we laughed and enjoyed each other's company. Oh, and my father-in-law took my dad for a spin in his convertible Camaro. Due to the dementia, I'm not sure how long my dad will remember that ride, but the look of utter glee on his face when they got back is enough for me. I don't dare ask how fast they were going... I probably don't want to know!

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