So, I read a review about Tyler Perry's new movie For Colored Girls today that I had to respond to. The author of the article, a man, basically bashed the movie for it's portrayal of the black man.While I could provide an excellent rebuttal of some of the accusations and also point out the many negative portrayals of the black woman in the media, I can see the authors point. Unfortunately, the portrayal of black men and women in the media leaves much to be desired. Instead, as a black woman, I wanted to lift up my brothers. While there are many negative experiences I could recount, I must say I LOVE the black man...just like my Sisters, I love the diversity of the black man...from smart and clean edged, eccentric and poetic, athletic and strong, political and opinionated, spiritual and deep, even the one's with a little roughness about them. The black man is the love of my life! There are many good black men out here. For every negative experience I've had, I can name a positive experience with my Brothers. I know many black men who are excellent fathers, grandfathers, uncles,brothers and cousins, loyal and faithful husbands, constant and platonic friends, spiritual advisors and partners, etc, etc, etc....MOST black men are not criminals, on the down-low, fresh out of jail, addicted to drugs, abusive, uneducated, womanizers, etc, etc...Like most PEOPLE there are good and bad apples in every bunch. The first black man I ever loved was my Daddy. Like alot of young black people, I was the product of young teenage parents. So I am not going to lie, there have been some trying and disappointing moments in our daddy/daughter relationship. However, one thing I could always appreciate was my daddy's presence in my life. The influence he has had on me and the memories I have are priceless. My love of music, my ability to laugh at myself, forgive myself, my shyness, my spiritual growth are all things I owe, in part, to my daddy. I was blessed enough to have a father who could be both strong and sensitive, laugh and cry in front of me, admit wrong-doing, has a strong faith, is spiritual, and who shows thanks for the relationship he has with his children. I love that I can count on my daddy to cook a meal for me, and when we sit down at the table to share the meal we have the best conversations! One of my favorite childhood memories is my daddy running up to hug me after playing basketball...this was a tradition...after each game, he would run up, all sweaty, and give his "baby girl" a hug (yep he took his little girl with him to his playground games!)...I would squirm and try to run, but all the while I couldn't wait for that hug...LOL...I also remember a bedtime game we used to play where I would hide under the covers and he would pretend to not be able to find me, once he did, he would lift me up and fly me around like I was an airplane and tuck me back in the bed and give me a kiss...I also remember, him trying to do my hair as a little girl...LOL...can we say disaster...or the one and only time I remember him spanking me (which was more like a pop on the hand) and he felt so bad when I cried we went to get ice cream...LOL...Like I said earlier, it wasn't all peaches and cream. I am also a product of divorce, so their are alot of sad memories that were created as a result of being the child of a young father, but life goes on and at the end of the day it is what you choose to focus on...Now, I focus on the relationship and friendship I have with my daddy and knowing that I always was and always will be his "baby girl"! Is my daddy perfect? NO! Is the black man perfect? NO! Like my daddy once told me, "I've got a lot of atoning to do"....so does the black man. Does this mean we should love the black man any less? NO...while we hold our brothers accountable, we should always remember to lift them up and celebrate them..To my sisters, if you know or have a good black man, make sure you do what our foremothers have done for years, hold him down (slang for support him), lift him up, praise him, respect him...and make sure he gets the big piece of chicken! LOL ....So to the author of that article, please don't commit homicide brother...the rainbow is enough!
He's misunderstood, some say that he's up to no good around the neighborhood
But fo' your information - alot of my brothers got education....
Black Brotha, I love ya, I will never - try to hurt ya
I want ya, to know that, I'm here for you - forever true- Angie Stone
Tell it sis..."My brother, strong brother...I'm here for you"....For Colored Girls wasn't about the men associated to these women...it was a bout the women overcoming challenges in their life...truth of the matter, issues arise between men and women; blacks and white; Christians and Muslims; whatever the issue, from which ever perspective, its worthy to be explored on every level and angle...
ReplyDeleteexactly my thoughts! conflict is just that conflict...and I agree with you that the movie was about the women and not necessarily the men..however, the images of our people in the media have been negative, so I can understand the writers frustration..I just felt like For Colored Girls was his scapegoat!
ReplyDeleteWow! I applaud you, my sis, for the heartfelt testimony. I, too, recall some of those basketball games. I still look back and smile about it. I look to my dad as the one man on this Earth that I aspire to be mentally and spiritually. His patience, his humor, his taste in music, the wisdom that he drilled into my head while growing up are just a few things that shaped me to be the man, husband, father & friend I am today. I have not taken any of this for granted. After my oldest son turned a year old, my dad and I were sitting at the table, and I looked at him and said, "Dad, I never thanked you for raising me. Thank you,, for giving me the advice and the tools I needed to be a responsible Black Man and Father. All the times I should have listened and didn't, I have the wounds and scars for my trouble. I, like most kids, wasn't always appreciative of the fatherly advice my dad offered. You'll have to understand that I was a very stubborn, headstrong kid. He knew that I had to try my way first, but he was always there to pick me up when my stubbornness got the best of me. Now throw this into the equation, the man who I call Dad, the man to whom I look up, is not my biological father. When he married my mom, he basically married me. He called it a package deal! Twenty-something years later, I still crack a smile at that.
ReplyDeleteIf The Creator blesses me with more years, then I'll continue to thank Him for giving me my dad. I've overcome many many trials and tribulations in my life, from being born to an eighth grader, to several brushes with death. I have been cognizant and grateful of the many blessings that God has bestowed upon me and I can tell you that He sent me my dad. No doubts about that.....
aww brother...that made me catch a tear. I'm so glad our parents union resulted in our union as siblings! I love, admire, and respect the man you are!! You and daddy give me hope that my black man is waiting! :-)
ReplyDeleteBeauty for Ashes!!! I so enjoyed reading this blog, it gave me a true example of what a Daddy should be, although i do know that not all BLACK men, are not slack! I just felt refreshed seeing someone who had a memorable childhood thanks for sharing! You just gave me extra motivation!
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