Signed, A Little Old Black Lady

Nicole BondLeave a comment

Dear White Couple Who Have The Black Pre School Aged Child,

We don’t know each other, but I see you in the neighborhood, usually at the bus stop in the mornings.

It’s hard not to notice a white woman and man walking with or pushing a Black pre-school girl in a stroller, up and down a Chicago South Side street. It’s an off-putting precursor to what will inevitably be the same wave of gentrification that crashed over neighboring Hyde Park.

But that’s not why I’m writing to you. 

Although I am deeply curious as to how your family trio originated, I’m abandoning that curiosity. My genuine hope that the little Black girl in your family is wanted and loved.  She seems to prefer “Daddy”, more so than “Mommy”, as evidenced by who she calls to and reaches for when the time comes to wrangle her into the stroller. I don’t quite know what to make of that.

But that’s also not why I’m writing to you.

White parents you absolutely, positively, unequivocally, must COMB the CHILD’S HAIR! You can’t just stick a bow in it and call it done. No. No. No. No. No.

You are mistaking neglected hair for natural hair. Natural or non-chemically treated hair on Black people of any age requires daily maintenance. Every day, every single day either one of you must comb and brush her hair, from the ends to the scalp.  Yes, that is the reverse order in which you comb and brush your own hair. Starting at her ends will hurt less and allow you to detangle as you move up the stands to her scalp. Small sections at a time will be the easiest. It may hurt her some, the detangling of what is on its way to becoming one massive dreadloc, if left unattended much longer.

You must part her hair in sections and oil her beautiful little brown scalp regularly.  This will actually feel nice. Who doesn’t enjoy a nice scalp massage?

You must shampoo and condition her coily hair often. And always be on the look out for lint from blankets and towels that land there and are super noticeable.

Surely you must have at least one Black friend who can help instruct you in managing you little girl’s hair.

If not, there is a Black owned Beauty Supply Store mere steps from where I see you.  Please stop in. Talk to the staff. Ask for their help. They will sell you many things. You may feel you are being over sold. You will not be. You will need to buy everything they show you. And you will need to learn how and when to use each item you buy.

Things you can expect to purchase: a detangling brush; a boar bristle brush; and edge brush, a detangling comb; not to be confused with a wide tooth comb, which you will also need; a rat tail comb which has nothing to do with rodents but has a pointed end for making precision partings,  scalp oil; hair moisturizer; deep conditioner; hair gel; a satin bonnet – satin, not the cheaper polyester bonnet that will make her already frizzy hair more frizzy; cute barrettes; soft pony elastic bands.   

Do Not, I repeat DO NOT chemically relax this child’s hair. I doubt they will suggest this option but if it comes up, tell them you are not interested in a relaxer. You are interested in best practices and products for caring for your Black child’s natural hair. It will be tricky at first. My guess is that you have probably tried before and gave up, with the kicking and screaming all three of you were likely doing. You can’t give up.  You absolutely must care for her hair.

She will have a tough enough time having you two as parents – the questions, the looks, the people who will want to befriend her because they think it means something that it doesn’t, and the people who will not want to befriend her for similar reasons. Add to that any special needs that may also be part of the equation and the last thing your little girl needs is to have to deal with having unhealthy, unkempt hair.

If you are still reading this, I take that to mean you’ve moved beyond how dare she, and into the how do I help my little girl, which is a great place to start.

With all my heart,

A Little Old Black Lady

Here’s a Riddle

Nicole BondLeave a comment

What’s the one full sentence inside of the word casino?

Answer: No!

Casino developers continue to vulture around the Micheal Reese Hospital site in South Side Chicago’s Bronzeville neighborhood.

A casino is the absolute last thing this neighborhood needs. Here’s a thought, particularly in the shadow of the demise of nearby Mercy Hospital, how about a HOSPITAL?

Judges?

Photo credit: Nicole Bond | Michael Reese Hospital Demolition Prairie Shores View
vj2012_bond_at-the-center-of-traumaDownload

And Just Like That…

Nicole BondLeave a comment

Today we are five episodes into the ten episode Sex and the City reboot. Deep into my feelings like a true Carrie Bradshaw, I have come to my keyboard to process them.

I will forever be an unapologetic fan of the six season HBO series Sex and the City. It was uncanny the ways the life-stories or four fictional white women would parallel the lives of me and my then three closest sister posse, including the one episode where Carrie Bradshaw said something to Mr. Big that I had said nearly verbatim to my own Mr. Big character a whole three years before the series debut in 1998. The show just got me and my girls in ways that transcended race and class.

I was most like Carrie, if you swap designer shoes for fine fragrances.

My girl (blank) was Charlotte, always had a pet, wore Burberry, generous but clinically frugal.  My client turned friend (blank) was bossy know-it-all and first of the crew to buy a home Miranda. And my friend (blank), who was slightly older and originally my mom’s friend from work, was dangerously Samantha.

[True story: Just like in the reboot my Samantha and I are no longer friends.]

As for any other of my friends who were not a fans of the show, it’s clear to see now the ways they had always been a bit sketchy as friends – sort of Frenemies (shout out season 3), if you know what I mean.  Long before the reboot, whenever the question, “Did you used to watch SATC?” came up in a conversation, and the answer would be, “no”, there was always a micro-moment when I contemplated if we could be actually be friends.

To fux wit me, you had to not only watch SATC, you had to LOVE SATC, you had to identify as one of the four women, regardless of your gender, and from the earliest rumors of a show reboot, you had to be waiting with baited breath to watch it. Otherwise, I would silently dismiss you through my most loving gapped smile. I harbor a similar dismissive distain for anyone who did not board Issa Rae’s independent train at the Awkward Black Girl station, then transfer at HBO to enjoy the full ride non-stop to the season 5 finale.

As for the SATC reboot And Just Like That, as a super fan of the original series, I am super protective of the show. It’s like family to me. And just like family, there are times when more than one thing can be true.

I appreciate the tightrope the show is walking trying to balance inclusion without tipping over into an abyss of tokenism. It’s sometimes like watching one of my workplace DEI committee meetings, only with better fashion. Just like the show, sometimes we get it wrong but bless our little souls for trying. Some of the professional work I get to do now is only possible because folks in nearly every sector of society are making genuine attempts to include diverse and marginalized voices.

I have a list of disappointments with the reboot but I also have a list of things that make me proud to continue to be a fan. For example:

Disappointed that Carrie stood watching Big in crisis for way too many seconds, then did not make any kind of life saving attempts what so ever. No calling 911, no running for the aforementioned nitroglycerin pill, no chest compressions – NADA.

Proud that there are now two Black women writers in the writers room – playwright/screenwriter Keli Goff and Chicago by way of Evanston author/blogger Samantha Irby.  *Disappointed I can no longer get into Irby’s blog (bitchesgottaeat) when I used to read it all the time, which is how I know Irby; that and the time she was the headliner at LitMash when I was an ensemble member of the now defunct Chicago Slam Works.

Disappointed Anthony said “Here, give that to Black Charlotte.” Although it could be funny later if it becomes a thing but it was too soon in episode 1.

Proud to see that little Black baby girl order a croissant in French! Mommy voulez vou coucher avec kwaason?  Y’all know that’s not what she said but you also know all I remember from elementary school French is Philip is in the swimming pool.

Disappointed how there are so many references made to the characters age. We get it, they’re in their 50s, so am I now. Let it go.

Proud that there are two Black women principal characters who have supporting roles large enough to allow for additional ancillary Black characters, which means more Black actors working. I think there were at least 10 Black characters at LWTs husband’s birthday dinner. A dinner party which prompted me to leave this comment on a You Tube channel recap of the episode where the channel was ripping the whole reboot a new one:

[YouTube video comment] real housewives channel on SATC

Wait. Wait. Wait… Is anyone going to ask why your recap talked about Sanford while showing footage of the dinner party at LTW’s home? The series reboot has some obvious failings, but the dinner party scene nailed it. Charlotte giving the fictional dinner party audience, as well as the viewing audience a docent tour of the Todd-Wexley’s art collection was a spot on celebratory moment! Your recap missed an opportunity here. You’ve spoken about the show using Black people as props, yet when actual props of art works created by Black artists are brilliantly used to carve a genuine ‘woke moment’, your recap failed to acknowledge it. I’m curious about why your recap offered no commentary on the writing that celebrated six Black visual artist, four of whom are still living?  If your aim is solely to criticize the show, I get it, but critique is broader. And just like that, I’ve personally attended one too many events where a well meaning white woman assumed that I was someone else, to whom I bared no resemblance, other than also being another Black woman; this does happen.  #GordonParks #CarrieMaeWeems #DeborahRoberts #BarkleyHendricks #DerrickAdams #MickaleneThomas

Like I said, I’m protective of my show, particularly now that there are two Black women in the writers room. Despite some obvious shortcomings, I’m in, through to the end on the big journey.