Learning People From the Inside Out-Reincarnation

Posted on by serenitisparkles

One of the most important lessons I have taught my daughter is to get to know everyone from the inside out.  Going deeper into that meaning has brought profound knowledge to my existence and my interactions with others.

I have always prided myself to be a lover of people.  Any color, size, religion, culture, and gender.

One of my greatest gifts has been to see the soul of a person and not the appearance or life choices.

It is not that I don’t see their physical differences.  We live in a physical world made up of matter.  Everyone has a unique and similar appearance.

I have chosen to not let anything from the physical world define who they are or who I am.

Our race and gender is a physical trait that we are born with.  It is not always what we identify with.  It is something that was chosen for us as soon as we entered the physical state of being.

So let’s explore what I am trying to divulge.  I have an inherent belief that this is not our souls first time here.  In fact, I believe we have all been here many times before.  We have come in different forms, through different time periods.

It would explain why a being born as a man, feels only feminine.  What if that soul has been through thousands of lives, most as a woman.  When they enter the present as a man, they don’t feel right.  Everything feels off.

If we can open our minds to the possibility that our souls can travel through many physical forms, then we can also be open to the fact that their is a novel inside of that book cover.  There is an untold story, a soul that is yearning to be who they feel most comfortable being.

It is not the outside that defines us all, it is what we have within us that tells our truth.

Living on the “White” side of things

Posted on by serenitisparkles

No, I did not say living on the “right” side or that white had any other influence in my soul than the color of skin I was given.   Colors mean something because we have allowed them to separate us.   Groups, placed by the few powerful, to separate all of us from our greatest strength, ALL OF US.

My daughter inspired me to write this because she has been affected by this “group” she is associated with.  She is a half white, half Colombian little person just beginning to understand the barriers society has placed on us.

She came to me the other day and said, “Mommy, the worst thing anyone ever said to me was, white girl white girl white girl.”  She said it wasn’t because of what they said but how they said it.  The girls taunting her were young black girls in our neighborhood.

We lived in a neighborhood where she was the only white girl.  She and I believe in rich culture.  Money didn’t define us,  our relationships did.  We were poor, but making it through.  Like everyone else in the neighborhood.  We understood what it felt like to go with bread and eggs in our refrigerator because her father was not providing financial support.  We understood what it felt like to have to do laundry and walk a mile to get to the laundry mat just to save money on washing clothes.  But in the eyes of our peers, we were White.   My daughter looked up to those girls.  They were a part of her home.

I grew up, up north, in Rhode Island where everyone was blended and the beauty of mixing cultures was ever so prevalent.  My best friends were triplets mixed with Native American, Black, and White.  I moved to the south at 16 years old to live with my mother as my father had gone to federal prison.  I moved to a southern town, dated in its appearance to the time before the south had lost.  Every culture was there, yet separate.  Every cafeteria table was a different “group”.  I wasn’t raised to see the differences.  I was taught to embrace the similarities.

At that time, 16 years old, I was also poor and my mother was sick.  I didn’t want to live there, I didn’t want to go to that school.  I didn’t want to be “grouped” with others because of what they believed I represent.  I let music decide what I would do next.

I was very much into Hip Hop as I was a beat away from NYC where it was flourishing.  When I got to the south, I began to hear the sound of Trap Music and Caribbean vibes and fell in love.

From that moment on, I would stand in the culture and break the stereotype.  I would teach my daughter to learn people from the inside out.  Celebrate the beautiful differences and though many will only see you as the color of your skin, remember that we are more alike.  Not understanding each other is one thing, leading with blind prejudice is another.  Whether you are black, white, asian, or any other race, we shouldn’t judge each other by the one thing in life that we didn’t choose; the color of our skin.

 

My Paschal’s Experience, in honor of MLK Jr.

Posted on by serenitisparkles

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To everyone that know’s the name, Paschal’s Restaurant located in Atlanta, GA, they understand it to be a staple in Atlanta.  Paschal’s Restaurant has been around since the civil rights movement when Martin Luther King Jr. would organize at their dining room tables.  It is a restaurant that speaks to the core of Atlanta and the United States.   To me, Paschal’s Restaurant is so much more than that.

To explain more about this feeling, let me begin by addressing who I am.  I am a 35 year old caucasian female.  Raised around my father’s Italian mother, and my mother’s best friend, Ruby and her daughter Angelique.  At a young age I knew what it meant to be of a different culture.  I also was aware of, the oppression that came behind it.  They say, don’t speak on another person’s journey, as you know not.  Always speak from your own experiences, always from the heart.  Growing up, I was consumed by Hip Hop music and culture.  My favorite dance music has always been and will always be, Dancehall.

When you think about why you find your best friends in life, think about the bond that ties you.  Mine was music.  Most of my friends growing up did not look like me.  We connected through the music.  Yet, there were still things I needed to understand.    I remember being in a heated conversation about race and what my white privilege meant for me.  At 14 years old my best friend, Venice, brought me to tears because I would never truly understand what it meant like to feel the systematic oppression that was placed on people of color.  As I grew up I began to understand what she meant.

Over time I experienced being with my black friends, getting refused to use a bathroom for a sick friend, being pulled over for no reason by the police, and being escorted by military officers out of City Walk when Cash Money was performing.

No I didn’t walk everyday as an African American, but my whole life, I have been walking beside them.  Watching all the injustices unfold.  Decades after the Civil Rights movement, being Black in America was still a stigma.

I made it my purpose to break the stereotype of the “white” American.  I needed to show the better side of who we were.  Love was how I would lead.

One day, I decided to move to the mecca of music, ATL.  When I got to Atlanta, I had to get money as soon as possible.  Within a week, I had an interview.  Paschal’s Restaurant had called me to interview and I was so excited to be working downtown Atlanta.

When I researched Paschal’s restaurant online, I was intimidated.  Such a statue in the south, such a monumental name.  I hope I was good enough.  I was so excited to walk through those doors.  paschals2.jpg

When I got to the interview, tall Photos of Martin Luther King Jr. hung on the walls.   Every server and bartender was African American, and then there was me.   Blonde hair, blue eyes and ready to work.

I remember phone calls, while bartending at Paschal’s from elderly African American people asking me, so politely, if I was caucasian.  I would always smile, because my love for Paschals and Paschal’s love for me was exactly what Martin Luther King Jr. fought for.  Not only to coexist, but to treat each other as family.  To find our likeness and walk together.

To say I was accepted by Paschal’s was an understatement.  From the bartenders, servers, and kitchen staff, Paschal’s became my family and remains that way 4 years later.  mlkday.jpg

Everyone has experienced that place that you finally feel at “home”.  Home can mean many things to many people.  But my feeling of home comes from a place, that has always seemed to be a monument in my life, even before I knew it existed.  

So today, as I sit in my favorite spot, at my home away from home, I can’t help but remember the great words of MLK Jr.

“People fail to get along because they fear each other; they fear each other because they don’t know each other; they don’t know each other because they have not communicated with each other.” – Martin Luther King Jr.