I started reading The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. along with the recordings of his speeches and I feel a feeling of SOMEBODINESS from listening to his words and the music  and to the voice of Levar Burton and the voices of the audience’s reply to King. The concept of Black Social Gospel becomes new and rewarding. Something not only of the past but also apart of me.

I owe it to myself to become better and also to those who fought so hard and long for me to use every part of me to help my community succeed to higher heights.

For a while, I did not feel the need to learn about the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Simply because I thought I knew enough about him. I felt that all my years of school I have always learned about King and never about Malcolm X or Medgar Evers. However, it wasn’t until I started forcing myself to read about these people when I found out that I knew nothing much about Martin. I am glad that I have decided to listen to his speeches and read his books. The words are potent. His diction is strong. It makes me wish I was there. And at one point (when he was speaking of the beginning of the Bus Boycott) he said No historian would ever be able fully to describe this meeting and no sociologist would ever be able to interpret it adequately. One had to be a part of the experience really to understand it. I understand my lost of being born in a different time and place but I also understand my gain from their suffering. And my gain is not free.

Not only did reading about others and their works force me to study the life of Martin Luther King Jr. but also because I realise that I am given over to  my surroundings to the aesthetics of  music and art during the mid to late 20th Century; therefore, I should know more about this period. Reading about the life of great  photographers like Gordon Parks and Moneta Sleet, Jr and listening to music by Mahalia Jackson only gave me half of an idea about their lives and this moment. To say I love the principle sound of the organ or piano that is backing up Mahalia Jackson’s voice and the textures and prints of Mrs. King’s clothing without knowing why is not enough for me. Just like the movement did not happen because of King, the music did not sound this way because of Mahalia.  And I may not know the answers to many questions of this period but with patience and personal study I seek to find out. Because there is something about this period that makes me who I am.

Tonight my sisters and I all stayed up talking about getting older. We all had reasons why we all of sudden felt we were getting old. Here are some.

We watch  what we eat and what our parents eat.

I don’t like my high heels the way I used to.

The ” Lets see how late we can stay up” game is not fun anymore.

To go to Daddy  begging is not as easy… We may not get what we ask for now. Before it was just a quarter.

Now homeless people look at us and beg.

The internet.

Older People are starting to treat us like we are grown. Without saying “You are not a child anymore”

Grown folk or older folk I should say- really care about my opinion. Or act like they do.

I am  starting to care more about everything around me. I feel I am aware of my surroundings more.

A lot of people our age are actually getting married and having kids.

Our  friendship cliques are not the same.

We share.

The younger generation look up to us and follow us.

I know very little if any ebonics. I am always asking younger folk to explain a word.

The noise teens make on the train or bus annoys me.

I enjoy school.

The saying “Time goes by fast” is actually true.

24 hour days are never  long enough

Chores are not chores any more – just things to do around the house

The “remember when” stories are more serious and bring tears- always ending with “I miss those days…those were the good ol’  days!”

If I call someone a name- good or bad- I mean it.

The saying “I’m not her friend anymore” really can mean “I’m not her friend anymore”

I have less best friends than five

I listen in Church

Saying “no” to an adult doesn’t end in a slap.

We are grateful for the slaps.

care less about what negative people say

Our dressing style is not the same anymore. We all have different taste.

Creating a list about why I feel old and having more to add…

Well, I am getting old. I am still young though. That’s the good thing.

My girlfriends are always starting something. That is why I am mad at them now. We are living together in the city and life for us is always busy and really full of life. Something is always happening. Tonight it happened at the supermarket.

It all started when we went to Dagostings two weeks ago.

We were chit-chatting as usual and putting food in the cart. We usually shop together if its heavy shopping and going to Dag is not similar to the Bodega. It’s a trip for us. Full of fun and of course food! (Like the alliteration?!) Anyways, when we got to the counter I notice the cashier. I thought he was handsome. But I kept my thought to myself. My roommates like to blow things out of proportion if you know what I mean. I didn’t tell them what I thought until we got of Dag. They thought he was far from a knock-out.

Lilly, really? He could hardly work the cash register.

Yeah, if he could not work a cash register, what makes you think he could handle you.

Listen y’all, I am not interested in him! I just think he is cute. That’s all I am saying. I don’t wanna marry the guy! Besides he didn’t recognize me!

My girlfriends are always jumping to conclusions, if you know what I mean.

Anyways, to-night we went back to Dag and had fun shopping once again. Singing along to the music, make believing the cart was a car, swinging the cart really fast around corners. Oh, one of my friends almost ran down an old couple driving all crazy. She made a sharp left into the cookie aisle. It was funny. After we passed them of course. They didn’t think so though. We did the walk of shame while passing them,  after that we cracked up.

Moreover, we got to the front of the store to check out and my crazy girlfriend pushed the cart to the check it yourself aisle when there was a free register not to far away. We had to race against a couple with two carts to the register. And we almost won. Would have won if she did not start arguing about something I put in the cart. She acts like she wants to save money then is the first one to eat what I pick out. If she only wants generic brands why she the first to eat non-generic brands?! By the time we finished arguing there was no free register in Dags. We had to wait in line.

But for me it was all good. My other friend (its three of us) realize that we were going to get the cashier we got the last time. You know, the one who I thought and still thinks is handsome. (Yeah, after seeing him a second time I moved him from the cute list to the handsome list).

You know, I think Lilly has somewhat of a good taste. He’s not that bad.

The argument was over and now we were looking at magazines and trying to talk about he cashier without anyone noticing.

Number one, I know I have good taste. Number two, I just think he is handsome. Nothing more. So when we get to the register, I can pack the bags. You girls don’t have to try to match.

Aww, Lilly. Come on. You always backing out.

See why I don’t like telling you girls anything? You take it to the next level. I don’t want anything to do with no cashier! Listen, I’m not even playing. I would walk out of the store. Don’t say anything.

So we got to the register. And you know how your girls can act. You already know. I kept my head in the Ebony Magazine I was reading. Not even interested anymore. They always got jokes. I can’t believe they gave my digits to a man who works at Dags. Not even feeling that.

I did feel him looking at me out of the corner of my eye.  He kept singing and I kept looking. I felt I was searching. For what? Not sure because like I told you I have many Bibles. I did enjoy the music and the singing and even the feeling I was getting from him. It was a strong chemistry. Finally he broke the silence.

May I help you?

I knew I didn’t really need help. After all, I was in the Bible section. But I wanted to say something more than, no thanks. But I didn’t know what to say.

No, thanks.

When our eyes met we both smiled. I knew he wanted to keep talking.

You looking for a Bible?

Well, I was in the Bible section, wasn’t I. However, I definitely was not searching for a Bible.

No, hum. Just looking around. This here is a nice store.

When I complimented him on the store I wasn’t lying. However, I wanted to add that it look disorganized. One can tell an interior designer was not at work here. Stacks of Books were all over the place and to make it worse there was very little walk space with all the book rackets there.

Thanks, I run it with my brother.

Okay. Do you have any journals?

yes, we have a few.

You keep a journal?

yep. Since I was a little girl, I enjoyed writing.

What do you write about?

Well, life in general. Do you write?

No, I sing.

I notice. You have a great voice. What do you sing about?

Life, life in general.

Wow, I thought. A guy with a good sence of humor. I thought for a moment he was mocking me but then I realise that singing about God is singing about life in general.

You are correct! Life is in God. Why not sing about him? So, do you at least write music or lyrics?

Yeah. I do that kind of writing. I love to write music.

So I entered the book store. I came looking for anything. I figure I will enter just because it was at the end of this hill. For a Saturday night the place was pretty crowed. I walked around for sometime just browsing,  read some children literature and other encouraging stories written by Christian authors.  I came upon a book titled Create in Me a Pure Heart: Answers for Struggling Women written by Steve and Kathy Gallagher. This book I thought was speaking to me. It cleared up many questions I had for myself; it containes answers to questions I am to shy to ask I thought.  Soon I realise that I and the book-keeper were the only two in the store.  He seemed to be full of joy. He was singing out loud to the Christian music that was playing. My first intention was to leave but I decided I might as well look at the Bibles. Not that I really needed another one.  The Bible stand was in front of his work area. I walked over there nonchalantly.