Christmas 2009

“Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance.To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.” -Oren Arnold

These are the best gifts of all. What is amazing is that they are recession proof, they are timeless, and they all come on everyones size. Happy Holidays, everyone.

I live life to the fullest

and all of those other cliche sounding adages that I hear people say. Last week I took the old adage by the horns and went skydiving. According to my mother, I seem to have some sinister plot to give her a heart attack (lol). So what in the world would possess me to leap out of a perfectly good airplane at 14,250 feet? Simply, I did it because I could. I did it because I've always been inspired by people who have lived their life without regrets. People who do not have lives filled with a long list of "could'ves, would'ves, should'ves". Now you may say (and justifiably so), ILP, you don't have to skydive to live life to the fullest. My response (besides you're right) would be that skydiving is representative of all of the opportunities that life has to offer and the speed at which those opportunities can fly by.

Since my jump I have been bombarded with questions, primarily, "What was going through your mind as you were coming down?" Interestingly enough...nothing was going through my mind. I was simply in the moment. I simply was. What an incredible lesson about how one should live. How ironic that for me, it took something as extreme as a jump to teach me one of life's true cornerstones.

Since I've landed...I haven't been able to stop humming Tim McGraw's old tune. Right now the lyrics are my life's anthem. Enjoy.

Live Like You Were Dyin'

He said: "I was in my early forties,"With a lot of life before me,"An' a moment came that stopped me on a dime."I spent most of the next days,"Looking at the x-rays,"An' talking 'bout the options an' talkin’ ‘bout sweet time."I asked him when it sank in,That this might really be the real end?How’s it hit you when you get that kind of news?Man whatcha do? An' he said: "I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu."And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,"And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,"To live like you were dyin'." He said "I was finally the husband,"That most the time I wasn’t."An' I became a friend a friend would like to have."And all of a sudden goin' fishin’,"Wasn’t such an imposition,"And I went three times that year I lost my Dad."Well, I finally read the Good Book,"And I took a good long hard look,"At what I'd do if I could do it all again,"And then: "I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu."And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,"And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,"To live like you were dyin'." Like tomorrow was a gift,And you got eternity,To think about what you’d do with it.An' what did you do with it?An' what can I do with it?An' what would I do with it? "Sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,"I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu."And then I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,"And I watched Blue Eagle as it was flyin'."An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,"To live like you were dyin'." "To live like you were dyin'.""To live like you were dyin'.""To live like you were dyin'.""To live like you were dyin'."

The Power of the Written Word

I've always been the type of person that believed that if you wrote down your thoughts and desires then there was live documentation (in black and white) for you to refer to if you needed it. The live documentation was there to hold me accountable, to remind me, to help me track my progress or lack there of. As a result, I have To Do Lists, Affirmation Sticky Notes, Blogs, Journals, and the various random doodling.

Usually when I write it down, I actually realize what is written there. No matter the task or dream, if I write it down, then I do it. My written words come to fruition. I've written down financial goals, written down my educational goals, I write down my running goals. Guess what? I realize those too. This week, for the first time, I kept a food journal. I've been writting down my goals this week. I've been writting down what I plan to eat (and what I want to avoid). Yup, so far so good.

So tonight, it has occurred to me that I should address the relationship area of my life. And no, I am not being ridiculous. It stands to reason, I write everything else down. So here goes:

I want a real man. I want a man that is emotionally available. One that loves music. One that loves art. He must love God and respect nature and the gifts it has to offer. He should speak with his heart. He should love me, respect me, challenge and interest me. He must be a man of integrity and honor.

It is now time for me to get to work.

25 More Random Things

On my first day of Spring Break, I find myself sick as a dog. Since I am bed ridden anyway, I've decided to share some random thoughts. These are not in any particular order.


1. Technology scares me. It really does, seriously. Take this Facebook account for instance….I only have it because of a class requirement.

2. I believe that ALL things have a season. Life, friends, jobs, relationships, clothes, etc.…enjoy what you can, learn what you are supposed to learn, and move on when it is done.

3. Even though she died back in 1999, it is still sometimes incomprehensible to me that my cousin Lisa is dead. I hope that she is proud of all me.

4. I am a gypsy at my core. I am at home anywhere on this planet.

5. Teaching was the absolute last thing I thought I would be doing for a career. I only began teaching while waiting for the Foreign Service to place me.

6. Monday, January 6, 2006 and running have saved my life. Literally.

7. I don’t believe in Political Correctness. I think it has abused Truth. However, I still hold out hope that Truth will prevail.

8. The first book I ever read from cover to cover was Gone With the Wind. I read the sequel Scarlet…what a let down.

9. I do own an IPOD (someone had to set it up for me though) and I have everyone from Conway Twitty to TPain loaded in it.

10. I have friends that have interesting careers. I know an ice trucker, a CEO of a bank, fitness trainers, foreign service workers, writers, archivists, reporters, pilots, a taste tester, exotic dancers, bartenders, fashion designers, professional athletes, private investigators, personal assistants to famous/wealthy people, numerous chefs, Peace Corps workers, actor, recording artists, ministers, a jeweler, a hand and foot model (not the same people, btw), a few regular models. I could go on, but I’ve made my point.

11. Closed Mind People (People that “Don’t like this/that/him/her/them/it” for no other reason other than mere existence), really, really tick me off.

12. I believe that people have the time to do what they desire to do. Period.

13. I am a principled person.

14. I despise winter, but understand its necessity in the cycle of things.

15. I am jealous of artistic people in general. I wish that I could express myself in the ways that they do.

16. I once spent an entire paycheck on a purse and a pair of shoes.

17. I get a kick out of seeing my students having an “Aha! Moment”. It never ever gets old.

18. The concept of rewarding people for doing things that they are supposed to do is the saddest practice I have ever seen.

19. I am most at peace when I am near water. I sometimes turn on the faucet and watch the water run. Lately, since I have been trying to be less wasteful of the world’s resources, I have started the practice of filling a large bucket with water and then using it to clean things. Yeah, you got it…the dipping my hands in water thingy.

20. I am an English teacher that happens to be the worst speller known to man.

21. I cried when I left Brazil at the end of last summer. I really, really considered not boarding my flight back to the US.

22. If one got a passport stamped for travel within the US, my passport would be stamped the most for Las Vegas, Nevada. Yeah, I don’t get this one either. I’ve been to Las Vegas so many times now that visits have begun to blend together.

23. Sometimes people don’t get what they deserve.

24. It is in part of because of charity that I am where I am today. I am charitable one, to remind myself of it and two, to hopefully bless someone else.

25. My mom and my aunt are my heroes.

In Memory of Mercedes "Ce-Ce" Fondren

Good Night

“You were a cheerleader and you can dance?”
giggle
Your laugh was infectious
It matched your quirky voice and style.

“Are you gonna miss me when I'm gone?’
frowny face
That question everyone asks at some point
We didn’t know that we’d have to eventually answer it.

“Are you sad? You look sad?”
affirmative head nod
We liked that you could always tell
You always seemed to just know.

“Who's gonna have the last laugh?”
a cunning winking eye
We all did because we knew you.
The pleasure was certainly ours, lady.

“Wanna see what I've been working on?”
display a belly with child
Another one in the world like you would’ve been awesome.
But God already knew that mankind wouldn’t appreciate it.


Thank you Ce-Ce
You made us keep our promise
We are all getting together again.

Sleep well dear, sweet lady.
We'll see you soon.

15-20 Pages (Part II)

Well I got the skinny, business sized envelope in the mail today. You know the one that says, "Hey we liked you a lot, but we didn't love you. You will make a lovely (fill in the blank) for someone someday." UB said thanks, but no thanks. Sigh.

All things happen for a reason, right? I will need to tell myself that for the next few days.

It is Done

I (with the help of my tremendous staff) have finally finished the 2008 Yearbook. Now I just have to sell them all when they come out on May 22.

There is a God.

The Baby Bump

I just Googled it and came up with 1,110,000 hits.

Can someone tell me when the phrase became a part of popular culture? I've sort of gotten my ears accustomed to hearing it on the entertainment news shows, but when I see it in magazines and in newspapers...I just have to wonder.

According to Urban Dictionary.com, baby bump is defined as:

1. baby bump (n.)

The abdomen area of a pregnant woman. As the fetus/baby grows so does a woman's belly. Thus it is referred to as a "baby bump."

I'll guess I will need to join the rest of the members of popular culture and add this one to my lexicon.

Tax Year 2007

Each pay he withholds

Money he freely wasted

I hate Uncle Sam.

Today I made the annual pilgrimage to my CPA on the other side of town. As usual, I had my stacks of papers, W-2's, 1099's, piles of receipts, calendars, appointment books, and canceled checks. He pushed the buttons on the adding machine and went over his check list of questions. I sat and bit my finger nails. BTW: I only bit my nails because he doesn't like people to chew gum when he is "working" and I wasn't about to upset the man who stands between me and those buzzards at the IRS.

So now I wait for Mr. CPA to call me back with the only news that I want to hear from him. The call should go like this:

Me: "Hello."
Mr. CPA: "Ms. ILP? This is Mr. CPA."
Me: "Yes!" [heart begins to race]
Mr. CPA: "You have a refund coming from Federal and a refund coming from the State."
Me: "That's awesome. As usual, Mr. CPA, thanks!"
Mr. CPA: "Would you like to know the amount?"
Me: "No. I'll wait for the surprise."
Mr. CPA: [slightly chuckling] "Ah yes, you only like to hear that you don't owe."
Me: "You know me."
Mr. CPA: "Well then I will mail all your paperwork to you."
Me: "That sounds good. Thanks again."

Keep your fingers crossed that the call isn't like the one I received for Tax Year 2005. I'd hate to have to come up with another Haiku.

The Verdict is In

and it was: not at this time. For the last few weeks I have had my fingers crossed that my cousin, a very talented screenplay writer and editor, would get into the Disney Fellowship Program. She got the call yesterday. They decided to go with another 4 Fellows for 2008.

Well Michelle, although it sounds trite, things do happen for a reason. I have no doubt that you will make it to Hollywood. Something tell me that it will be sooner than you planned. Someone at Disney is going to wish that they reconsidered.

By the way: I'm not just tooting my cousins horn, she really is talented. Check out her BLOG (it is one of my favorites). You can find a link to her place: Girl Child Press on the right.

Simple Pleasures

I did something different this Valentines Day. I celebrated the spirit of the day. I dressed in a pink and red, Valentines Day inspired $5.00 t-shirt (that read, "love...laugh...dream"), took 30 boxes of Necco Sweethearts in hand and went into full swing.


I enlisted the help of the students in my Creative Writing Class. The mission was to open the boxes of sweethearts and to use the corny sayings on the candy to make Valentines Day poems. We decided that we'd give our creations to someone. Each student had to create 3 poems. After laughing about the hearts that had messages like "hottie" and "fax me", oh and I can't forget "so hot", we all got to work.

60 minutes, a ream of colored paper, paper cuts, and hundreds of sweehearts later our mission proved to be a success. How do I know you ask? Cheryl H. (the teacher across the hall) stopped by my room and said, "ILP, your class assignment made my day." When she saw that I didn't know what she was talking about right away, she held out a neon pink valentine poem.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that she didn't get a poem that had "hottie" and "fax me" on it.

Old & Wise

Yesterday while waiting for a ride to a party for my cousin. My mom says... "You know Miss Slize died."

Miss Slize is the woman that raised my mom after my maternal grandmother (whom I have never met) died. As a child it was obvious that my mom didn't have a good experience with Miss Slize. My mom usually told us about her when she wanted us to learn some life lesson. Or when she thought we were being ungrateful, in other words when we were being repremanded. The name Miss Slize is one of those names that I heard over and over again. I knew how she cooked, what made her laugh, how she disciplined, how she hated, how she loved. I knew that she had impeccable taste in clothing and style. I new what frightened her and that she was illiterate. I knew that her husband (my mom's uncle) was an alcoholic. I knew all of this before I met her for the first time in 2001.

When my mom left Jamaica all those years ago, she never went back to see Miss Slize. She had all the opportunities in the world, but she always had one reason (never a good one in my opinion) or another as to why she would "go the next time".

I am grateful for this past summer when all of the girls in the family (except mom) went to see Miss Slize. It was obvious to us that Miss Slize would soon have her final sunset. The ravages of old age had definitely taken its toll. I was kind of ticked with my sisters for putting the camcorder so close to her face. I am grateful, because now we have physical pictures along with mental ones.

Miss Slize connected the dots for me. Meeting her somehow completed the picture of my existance. She is my maternal conduit to Jamaica.

Old and Wise

Alan Parsons Project

As far as my eyes can see

There are shadows approaching me

And to those I left behind

I wanted you to know

You've always shared my deepest thoughts

You follow where I go

And oh... when I'm old and wise

Bitter words mean little to me

Autumn winds will blow right through me

And someday in the mist of time

When they asked me if I knew you

I'd smile and say you were a friend of mine

And the sadness would be lifted from my eyes

Oh when I'm old and wise

As far as my eyes can see

There are shadows surrounding me

And to those I leave behind

I want you all to know

You've always shared my darkest hours

I'll miss you when I go
And oh... when I'm old and wise

Heavy words that tossed and blew me

Like autumn winds that will blow right through me

And someday in the mist of time

When they ask you if you knew me

Remember that you were a frined of mine

As the final curtain falls before my eyes

Oh when I'm old and wise

As far as my eyes can see

Rest in Peace Eliza Higgins.

Random Doodling from Student Papers

I finally decided that enough was enough and tackled a pile of papers. Every so often I come across some really interesting stuff in the margins of my students papers. Sometimes I get this what I will call doodling, instead of the actual assignment (sigh). These were some of the most interesting: Megan C.' wrote an ode entitled...

Ode to A Banana

in the warm sun, da-dunk
comes free ranged delicates.
the clean growth develops
to a crescent. with age
a silk skin, with health
a crescent body. a fighter
hanging by a limb. once
defied, plop a mushy
banana is conceived.

I remember this day. Megan kept asking me if I wanted one of her banana's. She had a bunch of them in a grocery bag. She must have picked them up at the store on her way to school.

Michael R. wanted people to know that, "the way I see it, people are gonna be really pissed in a few years, when I am famous and make more money than they have ever seen if there little pathetic lives."

Betthany T. said, "Hi-ya!" Then she drew a big smiley face.

Hallie G. wants to die in Forever 21. As she is "like totally obsessed with that store and like everything in it."

Chris A. asked, "what the hell is going on in this school? No, like seriously?" He drew his question mark and gave it human features with eyes and boxed eyebrows.

I haven't returned the papers yet. I still have time to answer the doodling.

Full Plate

Whenever I have a full plate, I start feeling lazy and unmotivated. I really do know better (at least in my head I do), but I can't seem to talk myself into getting started or moving. I guess it is because I dont know where to begin. Let's see:

1. I skipped the gym yesterday and by the looks of things, it doesn't seem I am going today.
2. I haven't picked up Passing Through by Colin Channer in days. I think that is an indicator that the book isn't really that good. However, I feel obligated to read it (you know...support my Jamaican writers).
3. It is February 1 and also the deadline for UB's Creative Writing Program applications. I completed my application right after the Holiday's. So I am calling on all prayer warriors, tea leaf burners, chanters, whatever...to do your thing. I just realized that I am not good at waiting for things. Can I get some pointers about The Waiting Game from you experienced folks?
4. My mother's birthday is coming on the 28th. My sister started this tradition of celebrating the entire month. Yea for mom! Noooo for me. I have been assigned 3 days to buy something "nice" (my sister's instructions...translated to mean: expensive) for my mom. Everyone knows that I am the girl who writes the checks. I jazz up my checks with gift cards (I know...pathetic). I am open for ideas, as all of these "nice" gifts are supposed to be surprises.
5. Second semester began this past Monday. I teach Evening School during the second semester. Classes begin on Tuesday.
6. The appraiser is coming on Wednesday morning. Yes, I have decided to take advantage of our exiting President's "Stimulus Package".
7. I have a stack of papers to grade (already). I am, however, sticking to my rule of not taking papers home.
8. I need to organize my papers so that I can file my taxes.
9. My fridge is empty. I hate the grocery store with a passion. But I have to eat, right?
10. Whenever my house gets messier than I like it, I look at a card that I got from a rep at Merry Maids. Ummm....I can't find it. Arrgg!
11. Deadline #4 for Genesis 2008 (Yearbook) is fast approaching. Of course the kids are getting tired (hell, so am I). This faculty section is now the bane of my existance.

I am going to go off the deep edge if I think about my plate anymore. It runneth over, indeed.

"At night, I guess,

is when I do it, Sandy."

That was my confused (and a bit exasperated) response to one of my students in Creative Writing yesterday. She wanted to know when I wrote (as in what time of day). I thought it was an odd question, that was until I thought about it. I guess until Sandy asked, I never really thought about my writing in this manner. Writing has always been a part of my life. A journal here, a poem there. A Post-It on the mirror. The "To Do List" on my desk in my classroom. A magazine cut out on the coffee table. My pile of short stories and query letters in the basket in the living room. The novel (currently by Colin Channer) on my bed. Now...my Musings.

Now that I've had a chance to think about it Sandy. Here is my answer. I write....
1. at night
2. when I am bored
3. at work
4. when I am pissed
5. when I can't sleep
6. when I am being naughty
7. when I am being a coward
8. when I am inspired
9. when I am overwhelmed
10. when the sun is shining
11. when it is pouring down rain
12. when I wake up from a nap
13. in the morning
14. whenever

Tomorrow when I see Sandy, I am going to ask her (and the rest of the class) when they do their writing.

Is There a Dream Analyzer in the House?

I can't remember what they say about dreams and there meaning. I am pretty sure that somewhere something has been written about them being attached to the subconscious and that they are the emotions' way of telling you one thing or another. I can work with that. Twice in the last few days, I have had the same exact dream. I think that it peculiar. I don't usually remember my dreams, so the fact that I remembered that I had the same dream is pretty significant. The dream went like this....

I am in front of the computer and I am working on an article of some sort. In the dream, I recognize the writing, it is mine. It is something that I have been working on for a long time. I am editing my article and I am extremely excited- someone is waiting on it. In the dream, I don't know what they are going to do with it, I just know that I can't wait until they get it. In the dream, it seems like my excitement is a combination of nerves and joy (I mean, my heart is pumping). It feels like the experience I am having (in the dream) has been a long time coming.

In the dream, I only say one thing and I repeat it over and over again. I repeat, "The time is now, ILP. The time is now."

The Pirate's Daughter

When I try to explain my Jamaican heritage to people, I do so knowing that they can not fully understand why I love Jamaica as much as I do. I get comments like, "Oh, you're from Jamaica! I love Bob Marley! Yes, Mon." <----- (I really, really detest that one) or "Jamaica, I've been there, what a lovely country. Too bad we had to get back to our cruise." or "Oh, Jamaica, what was the name of that lovely hotel that we stayed at when we were there?" What makes me the most sad are the eyes that I get from so many people. The eyes that say, "You're from Jamaica? I'm sorry that you are from such a lovely, but poor and desolate place." All I can do is smile and secretly sigh on the inside because I know that people mean well when they pay "compliments" to the country that is at the very heart of my existence. It is the land of my mother and father. Jamaican (a fellow yaadie) Margaret Cezair-Thompson does a phenomenal job putting into words what is at the core of my love for Jamaica. She does a fine job of explaining the intricate details of the history that gives Jamaica the national phrase "Out of Many - One People". Set in the glamorous era of 1940's Jamaica, The Pirate's Daughter is the tale of two generations of women (a mother and daughter) and their struggle to find a place for themselves; not only in society but within themselves. Thompson does what no other author has been able to do when it comes to the land that I love. She is able to tell her tale and do so in a culturally sensitive way. She does so without the usual stereotypes about Jamaica that I have become use to hearing (but will admit still stings my ears and grates my nerves).

Her characters are multi-dimensional (as all humans are), so that part of her novel is ordinary. Multi-dimensional characters are what I have come to expect from writers. Her descriptions of our culture, her brilliant descriptions of the landscapes and the tropical climate, her accurate summaries of my frustrations and disappointments with the government is what is extraordinary. It makes her story compelling and irresistible. The character May captured my feelings best when she had the epiphany, "that it wasn't really the people or government of Jamaica that she loved [in particular]...it was the land itself." (Wow!!)

As they would say in Jamaica, "Mi haffi big up Margaret Cezair-Thompson, enoh?" Much respect. I look forward to reading more.

New Year's Resolutions

I discovered a while ago that they don't work for me. It must be calling them "New Years Resolutions" or something, who knows. So, I don't make them. What I do now is if I see a change that I need to make or a goal that I would like to work towards, I write it down and then do what needs to be done in order to make it happen. I don't find it necessary to wait until the 1st of a new year to begin.

One of my three constant goals is to eat well, lose weight and exercise. The "Big Three" (as I like to call them) are goals I like to always have on the radar. Well today I met one of these goals. I lost 10 pounds. OK, so not 10 pounds literally, but it sure felt like it. I mailed my 15-20 page portfolio to UB. I waited for 20 minutes in a very long line at the Post Office, put $1.48 worth of postage on a large brown envelope and handed it to the postman behind the desk. I made him tell me twice that UB would have my portfolio in the morning.

So what's next?

I just packed my gym bag and I am heading out the door. I have to make sure that I don't eat 10 pounds worth or chocolate while I wait for the final decision.

Believe.

Suffer the Little Children

I am supposed to be taking a nap. I am tired, but my mind keeps wondering all over the place and I cant make myself fall asleep. Go figure. I talked to Alex last night, she called to thank me for the Christmas presents. I was happily surprised that she called. Alex never says thank you (that's her only fault...smile). She is away at her dads house for the holidays and she said that she was having a good time. Now that was a surprise. She never says she has fun when she goes there. Actually, she doesn't say much about him at all.

Our conversation wasn't a long one. She told me that she got a lot of clothes for Christmas (which she needed), however none of the items were her taste (duh), so she was taking everything back to the stores to exchange them for other (more stylish) things. Alex cracked me up because she said, "You know my mom got me this sweater and I swore that when I opened the box the sweater moved. That bad boy was alive!" Yeah, the clothing is just another example that her mom doesn't have the best taste or judgement for that matter.

We chatted for a few more minutes and I asked her if she wanted to take (what is becoming a ritual for us) another trip to NYC to see a show. It looks like it will be The Little Mermaid and it looks like we will hit the road during her Spring Break.

Alex has grown on me over the past 16 years of her life. She entered this world as an "oops". Neither her mother or her father (for that matter) wanted her here. Alex was one of those inconvenient truths. God, I can remember all the drama all those years ago when it got all over campus that Alex would be arriving in "9 months". People were only interested in Alex's impending arrival because paternity was an issue.

Over the years, I have watched Alex grow into someone that is wise beyond her years (OK, and we wont even go there about her book smarts. Let's just say, the world better watch out). She has definitely embodied the old saying, "take life's lemons and make lemonade." When she was little, she lived in a homeless shelter with her mother. She has been the recipient of numerous charities. She has spent a large portion of her formative years believing that people had to call you and threaten you before you were supposed to pay your bills. She has been the proverbial rose in front of the prison door. She has thrived, even though her circumstances and examples (almost all her mother) haven't been the best.

What I am struck by is that she has remained positive. She has remained calm. Always. She observes situations like only a giant cat would (literally...she has very light brown eyes) and then makes decisions that would make most adults would shudder. She is a thinker. I know that she will have an enormous impact on this world. It is almost impossible that she wouldn't.

Although Alex's mom and I haven't spoken in 2 years (that story will be my first screenplay, I promise). I am glad that she knocked on my door all those years ago and let it out that Alex was coming. Who knew that when Alex made her entrance into the world all those years ago that I would come to love her so. I guess life is strange that way.

Readers Are Writers and Writers are Readers

I hear that all them time. I say it to my students when I want to sound sophisticated and deep. But you know what? It is true. I just finished the most amazing first novel by writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie called Purple Hibiscus. The story is told by 14 year old Kimbali who is raised in a strict and abusive Catholic home by her tyrannical father. Kimbali lives in Nigeria and struggles to live a life where the old ways of life have been disregarded for the new order . She struggles with the religious and the pagan. It isn't until she goes for a visit to her aunty's house that she realizes that there is another way to live.

Kimbali struggles to find a the balance between the old and the new. She struggles to find the balance between the love she has for her father and the hatred and confusion she feels for the life of physical and emotional abuse she suffers at his hands.

I guess I found Kimbali's story so engrossing because so much of her story is my story. Yeah, I know she is Nigerian and I'm Jamerican, but you know what I mean. I too can identify with growing up "stuck" between two worlds. I can identify with being confused by the contradictions of the "pentecostal holy rollers" life and the life I had at home once the preacher said amen. I know what it is like growing up being told that everthing good I did was because I was a "Jamaican child growing up in America" and at the same time being spanked for all the bad things because I forgot that I was a "Jamaican child growing up in America". In so many ways my mom and dad were Kimbali's father.

It was refreshing to read the novel because ALL of the characters have skin like mine. They use words that I too use in my daily life. I know the foods that they eat (man I could eat some Jalaf Rice right now). It is nice to read a story about people like me: characters that are educated and smart. Characters that make points that are poignant. It is nice to see characters with my skin color struggle with the same issues that I do. It is nice to see characters that speak with eloquence and grace. It is refreshing that Adechie found it OK to tell her people's (and in a way, my people's) story. I hope that someone will be proud of me like I am proud of her when I tell my story.

I'm going to Google her. I hope she has written something else.