Prologue

Many of us have memories of growing up. Some were good and others we would like to forget about all together. In some households there were certain phrases mothers would say to us that were considered “teachable moments.” As I think back, I didn’t understand as a child what any of those phrases meant. They made absolutely no sense at all for example: “What you do in the dark, will come out in the light”. “If you lie down with dogs, you’ll get up with fleas”. “You made your bed, now lie in it.” And “What did I tell you?” I had to back track and refresh my memory bank to remember exactly what it was that she had actually said. Some of her expressions weren’t verbalized. They were never spoken but it was certainly understood. They were understood and known as the “look.” In case you don’t know what, the look is, it was “eye contact” with a facial gesture to let you know that you had crossed the line. The look meant that discipline would be administered if your behavior didn’t improve quickly. You knew immediately, if you didn’t stop whatever you were doing, (and it didn’t matter if you were in a grocery store or church) there would be consequences to pay when you got home. Nine times out of ten it worked. You didn’t want that beat down in private or public. If you attempted to defy your mom and continue the behavior, you were escorted briskly sometimes by your ear to the nearest washroom to suffer the consequences. I remember “the look” on one occasion when I asked her if I could get pregnant from kissing a boy. This was one of the primary conversations of discussions that my female classmates and I would laugh and giggle about during recess. My mom’s face and her “look” informed me that I should not have asked that question. Her response was “You don’t talk about things like that. Nice girls don’t talk about or do things like that.” My next question was well, “What is it that nice girls don’t do?” I got the mama look again. I waited and waited for my mom’s explanation… eleven years old… twelve years old… and thirteen years old… but my question was never answered. I never bothered to ask her anything else again. I figured I would not get an answer, just the mama looks. We never talked on that subject again. Couldn’t Mama see I was growing up? I needed guidance to make those important day-to-day decisions that would affect and shape my unpredictable world. I needed more than just a list of Dos and Don’ts. I needed her to speak the unspoken words and get past the topics that were considered taboo to her. I needed her to quench my thirst and answer the many questions that were mysteries to me. We never talked about puberty, self-esteem, self- image, or the dreaded “period.” Sure, she provided me with books to read but somehow the messages intended were lost. I had the manual, but no one explained to me what peg went into what hole. You can have all the pieces to a puzzle and still not be able to put it together. Sometimes, you need a little help. If she didn’t get those lessons from her mother, it would be difficult to pass them onto me. Young girls in the 70’s and even today huddle together snickering and whispering to exchange and share information on numerous subjects. They have not tested them to determine if they are fact or fiction. In their minds it doesn’t matter if the information is fact or fiction. “The girls” are just a source of comfort and support to each other to validate the myths of growing up that they have made their own reality. All I wanted was some insight or wisdom to understand the changes I was experiencing physically and mentally. Adolescence can be complicated and complex. There are many factors affecting the emotional, psychological, social emotional and cultural development during the pre-teen years. Drugs, gangs, pregnancy, peer pressure, and racism are just some of the vital issues that parents should explain and discuss with their children and how these social conditions can have a lasting impact on their lives. I, like many of my peers at that time, needed to know what becoming a woman was about and what experiences I would face in the process. Mothers make sure you tell your daughters that men should always treat you with gentleness and respect. You should never tolerate or accept anything less, even if it means being without a man. Unfortunately, I had to learn this the hard way from too many broken hearts and crushed self-esteem. Eventually, I finally get the message that I had to love myself more than loving a man. I remember when we went to visit my mom’s best friend in California. When we arrived at her home my mom and her friend could not wait to escape into the kitchen to catch up on all the latest news. I guess they forgot about me. They left me in the living room with her husband Mr. Gaines. He was more than hospitable to entertain me in their absence. He welcomed me to come and sit on his lap and not knowing any better I did. Mr. Gaines seemed to be having a good time rocking me back and forth. He was bouncing me up and down on his lap like a baby. In actuality, I really was. As I look back now, I realize that he was getting his jollies on. He was having dry sex with a nine-year-old. I was so scared because no man had ever done this to me before. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? I decided not to say or do anything because I didn’t want to get into any trouble. It’s funny though, even as a child you usually have a second sense when something is wrong. It wasn’t long before my turbulent ride was over and just in time. My mother and Mrs. Gaines returned to the living room just as I was getting off Mr. Gaines’s lap. It was interesting that they both looked at me strangely and asked if everything was all right. It was as if they too had sensed something was going on. I told them I was fine. In later years when I was older and exposed to the ins and outs of sex, I realized that Mr. Gaines’s real name was Mr. Pedophile. There were so many things and lessons that mothers should share. For example, “boys” and even grown men are going to ask you to do things not in your best interest. They may ask you to do things that you don’t want to do like touching your body or their body parts inappropriately.” Moms should tell their daughters that it is perfectly okay to say “No”! mean it and stand by it. Or, when in doubt, tell an adult if needed to ask for help. Most importantly, I needed to know the truth about being a girl of color in North America and of the world. I needed to know that my kinky hair, chocolate skin, round behind and wide hips were a blessing… and not a curse. I didn’t have to fit in or meet society’s standards for beauty (a size 2, with long straight hair, thin lips and a Roman shaped nose). I was already beautiful just the way I was! As I got older, I found that I was sometimes compared to other children. This didn’t help my self-esteem at all. I remember my mom saying, “Why can’t you be more like Jessica? (she was my best friend). She’s so smart. She’s on the honor roll. She is going to be admitted to a top high school. She’s at the top of her class and she’s not fast like you!” Instead of always comparing me to Jessica, I wished she had acknowledged some of my accomplishments and guided me more toward becoming a young lady. I should have been told that I was intelligent, confident, and that I was capable of achieving my life goals. I didn’t have to be like Jessica. I could just be me and that was good enough. I needed to know that after my parents divorced and we moved away, my father would not be there to defend me and that I would no longer be able to look to him or depend on him to find solace and protection. I didn’t know that my father would just disappear from my life just like the child support payments that were supposed to come. I have often wondered if my mother had prepared me for some of the bumps in the road that I have experienced would my life have turned out differently. No one can answer that but at least maybe I could have had a running start. My story, as well as some of yours is very relevant to what many other young girls’ stories are and what they are faced with today. Even as adults we still struggle with life’s challenges. It is not about the color of our skin, culture, ethnic background, religious beliefs, or how smart we are. It is all about the commonalities we share, the journey that each of us has or will travel and the tools that are necessary for us to navigate successfully in our global society. ONE