My Daddy was the greatest man who ever lived.
I can close my eyes and still see his creamy cafe au lait face. He had a broad smile, curly hair, and a big bushy mustache! My daddy was a tower, standing at 6'4" and being about 250 or so.
Daddy is the one who regaled me with stories of my deceased mother and encourage me to write. He is the one who told me there was something God had for me to do. Daddy was the one who called me Taye.
My love for him is eternal and everlasting. He left this earth, but never my heart, ten years ago. I'm 45 years old and I still miss my daddy's hugs.
Daddy was ambitious and motivated. I believe I have that streak of determination from him. Everyone who knew him tells me I inherited his gift of oratory and should be a minister like he was. Daddy was amazing.
I miss him and his secret stash of butterscotch and fondly remember his blessings of sesame buns when I was a young college student.
The older I get, the more I miss him, the more I need him. There is so much I wanted to talk with him about, still so much more to say.
In my eyes, the sun rose and set on my daddy, he was and will always be the king of my heart!
life, really, and a latte by Tayé Foster Bradshaw
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Remembering Life Changes
This is the end of a very long week.
The first day the students arrived at SPROG was also the day my husband and children were up in Michigan to bury his last uncle. My husband is now an elder male in the family. It was hard to not be there with them.
Saddness hit me really hard when my son in Japan let me know his long-awaited leave home would not take place. His flight from Japan to Seattle got cancelled. This kids rubs two nickles to make a dime so spending over $2000 to get home was just too much to bear. We discovered Sykpe and the joys of video talking. He decided to take advantage of Japan and went hiking in the mountains.
The elder son called me with some potential news. He is still discovering his plan and purpose in life. They never stop being our children even in their twenties.
All the hard work and planning for the summer program has given me joy to see it come together. I am just playing a small part in closing the achievement gap and keeping a great group of kids motivated through the summer. I pray to always be worthy of the 56+ kids in my care.
The weather in St. Louis is hot and muggy. Our second summer here and I wonder if we will ever get used to the oven. Even if my family goes back a few generations here and I was born in this sauna, I still crave a beach and air!
Our week ended with sadness with the death of my husband's dear Godsister. Our culture, like a lot of cultures of color, know no distinctions of sister, brother, aunt, uncle. She was simply Aunt Nikki and her thirty-plus years on the earth was not enough. She was generous, loving, and pragmatic. She brought the family together through monthly birthday dinners that started back at Thanksgiving and lasted through the end of April. Her battle with cystic fibrosis prevented us from having the dinner in May and her courageous fight ended on Juneteenth. She is greeted with the cloud of witnesses and the spirit of the elders.
Life is about change. It is organic and moving. There are times the change is good and times the change is bad. It is all part of breathing air and celebrating what the Creator has given us. We never want to remain stagnant for then we cease to be curious. May life always continue to inspire us and motivate us and even when it greets us with sadness, may we embrace that aspect of the journey, for it enlighten our spirit.
The first day the students arrived at SPROG was also the day my husband and children were up in Michigan to bury his last uncle. My husband is now an elder male in the family. It was hard to not be there with them.
Saddness hit me really hard when my son in Japan let me know his long-awaited leave home would not take place. His flight from Japan to Seattle got cancelled. This kids rubs two nickles to make a dime so spending over $2000 to get home was just too much to bear. We discovered Sykpe and the joys of video talking. He decided to take advantage of Japan and went hiking in the mountains.
The elder son called me with some potential news. He is still discovering his plan and purpose in life. They never stop being our children even in their twenties.
All the hard work and planning for the summer program has given me joy to see it come together. I am just playing a small part in closing the achievement gap and keeping a great group of kids motivated through the summer. I pray to always be worthy of the 56+ kids in my care.
The weather in St. Louis is hot and muggy. Our second summer here and I wonder if we will ever get used to the oven. Even if my family goes back a few generations here and I was born in this sauna, I still crave a beach and air!
Our week ended with sadness with the death of my husband's dear Godsister. Our culture, like a lot of cultures of color, know no distinctions of sister, brother, aunt, uncle. She was simply Aunt Nikki and her thirty-plus years on the earth was not enough. She was generous, loving, and pragmatic. She brought the family together through monthly birthday dinners that started back at Thanksgiving and lasted through the end of April. Her battle with cystic fibrosis prevented us from having the dinner in May and her courageous fight ended on Juneteenth. She is greeted with the cloud of witnesses and the spirit of the elders.
Life is about change. It is organic and moving. There are times the change is good and times the change is bad. It is all part of breathing air and celebrating what the Creator has given us. We never want to remain stagnant for then we cease to be curious. May life always continue to inspire us and motivate us and even when it greets us with sadness, may we embrace that aspect of the journey, for it enlighten our spirit.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Coming Home Again
Someone said a long time ago that our children never stop being our children even when they leave home.
This statement is profoundly true.
Some cultures will not allow a girl-woman to leave home until it is for marriage. It is not uncommon for many families to have multiple generations living in the same household, nurturing and flourishing together.
Then there is this overly individualistic Western culture that thrives on telling kids they do not need their parents and rushes them through childhood.
Is there a balance? A time to let a child develop into their own person, yet, keep the family unit intact until they are truly read to "leave and cleave" as some ministers are known to utter?
I ponder this as I think about my son in Japan who could not come home due to a cancelled flight. His departure after high school for the Great Lakes Naval Training Center came too soon for my soul. Summer 2007 marks the time my family dynamic really shifted.
Living in the city of my birth, yet not the city of my older children's childhood, has me in a qunadry and wondering if our Western independence has cost us something too great as a nation?
My elder son remained in our former city, fiercely trying to hold on to his independence, proudly proclaiming he is making it on his own, inwardly wishing he could come home again. Do I open up the doors of this tiny, temporary quarters or wish to move back to my big five bedroom? Can we ever go back and truly flow as we once did?
The economy has forced many families to rethink what it means to be family.
Many non-European-centered households have always been multi-generational with the colorful,and sometimes noisy, celebration of life this brings. The crush of the economy and loss of jobs has been shared, nothing unusual about young college students remaining at home with mom and dad while grandma relishes them about stories of their culture. The potential to thrive is at every olive plant around the table.
Then there are families struggling to make sense of returning, adult children, and balancing it all. Sanity in some homes has taken a back seat to negotiating curfews, more stuff, loads of laundry, and that tug to return to childhood.
I sit and watch my three youngest children sleep and realize that I want them to remain close to me. Perhaps it is my age or more of a realization that they are the air I breathe. As much as I loathe their messiness or petty arguments, I cherish their quirky comments and spontaneous laughter, they enrich my life.
Older children are still the children of their parents, even if separated by geography, to them like the younger, you can come home again.
This statement is profoundly true.
Some cultures will not allow a girl-woman to leave home until it is for marriage. It is not uncommon for many families to have multiple generations living in the same household, nurturing and flourishing together.
Then there is this overly individualistic Western culture that thrives on telling kids they do not need their parents and rushes them through childhood.
Is there a balance? A time to let a child develop into their own person, yet, keep the family unit intact until they are truly read to "leave and cleave" as some ministers are known to utter?
I ponder this as I think about my son in Japan who could not come home due to a cancelled flight. His departure after high school for the Great Lakes Naval Training Center came too soon for my soul. Summer 2007 marks the time my family dynamic really shifted.
Living in the city of my birth, yet not the city of my older children's childhood, has me in a qunadry and wondering if our Western independence has cost us something too great as a nation?
My elder son remained in our former city, fiercely trying to hold on to his independence, proudly proclaiming he is making it on his own, inwardly wishing he could come home again. Do I open up the doors of this tiny, temporary quarters or wish to move back to my big five bedroom? Can we ever go back and truly flow as we once did?
The economy has forced many families to rethink what it means to be family.
Many non-European-centered households have always been multi-generational with the colorful,and sometimes noisy, celebration of life this brings. The crush of the economy and loss of jobs has been shared, nothing unusual about young college students remaining at home with mom and dad while grandma relishes them about stories of their culture. The potential to thrive is at every olive plant around the table.
Then there are families struggling to make sense of returning, adult children, and balancing it all. Sanity in some homes has taken a back seat to negotiating curfews, more stuff, loads of laundry, and that tug to return to childhood.
I sit and watch my three youngest children sleep and realize that I want them to remain close to me. Perhaps it is my age or more of a realization that they are the air I breathe. As much as I loathe their messiness or petty arguments, I cherish their quirky comments and spontaneous laughter, they enrich my life.
Older children are still the children of their parents, even if separated by geography, to them like the younger, you can come home again.
Monday, June 1, 2009
And This Is Pro-Life?
I was horrified to learn that Dr. George Tiller, Wichita, Kansas, was gunned down in his Reformation Lutheran Church, during Sunday morning services yesterday. The reason for his killing? He was a women's health advocate and he did perform abortions.
The entire "pro-life" moment has always been marked with violence and misguided individuals or misinformed individuals. Here in St. Louis, outside Planned Parenthood, there is always a line of white people with signs of aborted fetuses. Whenever I drive past there with my kids in the car, I hope they do not look. These people scream and holler at the already emotionally drained women who enter for an abortion. They do not act in love or concern for the mother.
One of the things that has always bothered me is that these same, mostly white, mostly Christian fundamentalist, Republican voting people care very little for the child once he or she is born. They are the same ones that cry against so-called welfare queen, live in exclusive neighborhoods and watch inner city schools deteriorate. They hold hiring positions but will not hire people-of-color or will not pay them more than 68-cents on the dollar for every $1 a white male earns. They are the same ones that cry about Medicaid or SSI benefits or housing subsidies - all things needed by lower income families to provide for the children. They cry sanctity of life but do nothing for the born life. Hypocrisy.
So the man who walked into a place of peace to gun down a man, there ushering as his wife sang in the choir. He was a husband, father, grandfather, member of the community. He provided a service and often a much needed service to spare the unborn child a brief lifetime of severe disabilities. The courts do not rule that a person is actually a person until they are born. The rights of the unborn are not greater than the rights of the already born. A woman's body is still hers.
This brings me to some of the core problems with these right-to-lifers. They also advocate abstinence-only education that has been proven to not prevent teen pregnancy or early sex. Quite the opposite, one of the things Planned Parenthood does is provide information, especially to poor or minority communications - accurate information on women's health, protection, and screening. They do more than abortions and with the decreased funding for routine check-ups, they provide a service on a sliding scale. They were my doctors when I was in college.
I am disgusted by this domestic terrorism. I applaud Attorney General Holder for moving swiftly to provide protection to all the abortion doctors and the clinics. We must preserve the woman's right to choose.
The entire "pro-life" moment has always been marked with violence and misguided individuals or misinformed individuals. Here in St. Louis, outside Planned Parenthood, there is always a line of white people with signs of aborted fetuses. Whenever I drive past there with my kids in the car, I hope they do not look. These people scream and holler at the already emotionally drained women who enter for an abortion. They do not act in love or concern for the mother.
One of the things that has always bothered me is that these same, mostly white, mostly Christian fundamentalist, Republican voting people care very little for the child once he or she is born. They are the same ones that cry against so-called welfare queen, live in exclusive neighborhoods and watch inner city schools deteriorate. They hold hiring positions but will not hire people-of-color or will not pay them more than 68-cents on the dollar for every $1 a white male earns. They are the same ones that cry about Medicaid or SSI benefits or housing subsidies - all things needed by lower income families to provide for the children. They cry sanctity of life but do nothing for the born life. Hypocrisy.
So the man who walked into a place of peace to gun down a man, there ushering as his wife sang in the choir. He was a husband, father, grandfather, member of the community. He provided a service and often a much needed service to spare the unborn child a brief lifetime of severe disabilities. The courts do not rule that a person is actually a person until they are born. The rights of the unborn are not greater than the rights of the already born. A woman's body is still hers.
This brings me to some of the core problems with these right-to-lifers. They also advocate abstinence-only education that has been proven to not prevent teen pregnancy or early sex. Quite the opposite, one of the things Planned Parenthood does is provide information, especially to poor or minority communications - accurate information on women's health, protection, and screening. They do more than abortions and with the decreased funding for routine check-ups, they provide a service on a sliding scale. They were my doctors when I was in college.
I am disgusted by this domestic terrorism. I applaud Attorney General Holder for moving swiftly to provide protection to all the abortion doctors and the clinics. We must preserve the woman's right to choose.
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