Why is Being A Geek Still Not Cool?

When I was in school, people picked at me for being smart. No one and I mean no one in elementary school wanted to be labeled a Nerd, because that was lower on the social totem pole than the kid with perpetual bladder issues, dried boogers and shit.

I managed to survive middle school because I loved to play basketball more than I loved books. My friends from the courts got to see a different side of me because I was "the girl that could ball."

Now that I'm raising a rising 6th grade genius, I'm forced to accept the fact that not much has changed. My Deuce da Don, the infamous clone #2, is terrified of being labeled a Nerd at school.

It got me thinking about what middle school could have been like for me, had I not had the fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on which story I tell) distinction of being "Nikki's little sister" or "Leon's cousin". I saw the kids who weren't able to move as effortlessly between the two groups; I befriended them but I certainly didn't envy them.

Kids can be hella cruel. I guess our social training needs a little more structure (but I digress). My brain was inundated with a tsunami of questions as I strolled down middle school memory lane.

Why do we place value on not succeeding? Why has it been cool to not be smart? Where did it begin? Do parents play a role? I could go on but I wanna keep this short...

After swimming through my thoughts I marooned on this conclusion...the little girls are the key.

The power of the doubled X chromosomes makes it's debut in the spring of 5th grade!

I have witnessed my often smelly (what is it about boys and hygiene) preteen who still cried when it was time to get a hair cut, actually request I iron his shirt and give me the sad face and beg not to just get an edgeup this time, and this is a different kid than the one who told me Happy New Year 6 months ago.

What was the catalyst for this change? Was it my countless lectures and repeating of my mantra "Personal hygene is about you!"?

HELL NAW!!! (you see my North Carolina coming out?)

It was pheromones!

This spring I've watched my son start to notice girls. It started in March when the pretty little chocolate girl who always wears the cutest skirts that lives in our complex stopped by. Before she turned to walk away when I told her Deuce wasn't home, she requested I let him know she had done so. This metamorphosis has blossomed into full blown open nose season when on the last day of school, while all decked out in his bowtie and Durango boots (ikr-you know his stylish mom was proud as hell) he ditched me twice (once at the bus stop and then after graduation) for that same little girl.

See what I mean? Right before my eyes...

I feel that if we went on a campaign teaching young girls that being smart was sexy, nerds wouldn't be socially ostracisized anymore. I'll keep my fingers crossed with the hope that there will be some teenage heartthrob that will equally excel academically and not be ashamed of it...one can dream right? Martin had his, this is mine!

Even though I know that change won't happen before Deuce starts the 6th grade, I don't worry about him because he will come to be known as "Trey's little brother" and "Ty's cousin" so he'll be just fine. I just hope he befriends his fellow brotheren, just as I did; they will always make him feel cool.

It's funny how history really does repeat itself.

...Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

Father's Day Isn't Happy For Everyone

Days like this are hard when you have a parent who has passed away, I haven't bought a power tool, necktie, short/polo combination, card, or taken my father to dinner in 7 years.

It's funny the things you miss.

It was only last Father's Day that I brought myself to delete his number from my phonebook; the reality that I would never get a call during the game from him again finally set in. My father was my best friend, I used to think that was a great thing, but here we are 7 years later and he still hasn't been replaced.

William Reid Jr was a great man (notice I didn't say perfect). He embodied the soldier's creed. His love for God, his family, and his country drove nearly all the choices he made in his adult life.

As I reminisce, I can't help but smile because that's what my Father did more than anything; it's what most people remember him for. I haven't met a person who knew my father who hasn't had a funny story to tell about him. No question as to where I got my sense of humor from.

He was the strongest man I ever known. I have witnessed him defy the odds and survive and recover from 3 strokes, extreme hypoglycemia (his blood sugar so high the Doctors couldn't believe how he staved off a coma let alone death), Hodgkin's lymphoma, chemotherapy, the massive brain tumor that developed after the chemo stopped and daily radiation it took to shrink it, only to succumb to sepsis from an infection that developed when the wound in his stomach wasn't properly cared for after his dementia lead him to pull the feeding tube they placed in his stomach out.

I guess we really only get 9 lives...

My dad was a man who never stopped believing in Redemption. "No relationship based in love could ever be damaged beyond repair" is what he said to me when I was in the midst of a quarrel with one of my siblings that lasted for nearly a year. He orchestrated our reconciliation.

"Do what's right" has to be the best advice he ever gave me; even though I still struggle to follow it.

"Your breast got lost in the mail" has to be the funniest thing he has ever said to me. What a way to explain flat-chestedness to your 14 year old daughter. (Anyone else detect foreshadow here besides me?)

"You ain't fooling nobody, be yourself" were the last instructions he gave me, that February morning while I was feeding him his breakfast. Letting me know that he knew I was gay (no matter how I tried to hide and deny) and giving me the courage to live a life outside of the shadows.

"I love you" the last words I said to him, on Monday, February 24th at approximately 11:30 in Pitt Memorial Hospital, a little more than 7 years ago.

His absence in my life mean my children have to grow up without their Grandfather; my youngest is too young to remember any of the memories he created with him. I think that saddens me more than anything else.

Today I honor my Father by praying for those Fathers and Grandfathers who have CHOSEN to be absent in their children's lives and for those who have severed relationships due to circumstances. My prayer is they find themselves on the road to Redemption before they leave this dimension.

I salute you Dad; your love for me has transcended the grave.

RIP SSG William Reid, Jr you will forever be loved and missed.

For you people who have your Fathers here, honor them, and take time to think about those who have to spend the day absent from their Fathers for whatever reason.

Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

Letter to LeBron

Dear LeBron,

I am NOT one of your fans (just wanted to say that up front) but I LOVE the game of basketball with everything that is in me. I love it in a way that only a person who doesn't have your talent can.

I think you are a prime example of what's wrong with the game! You don't LOVE or RESPECT the soul of the game.

I know this morning you are somewhere scratching your head trying to figure out how this bunch of old vets have found a way to defend you, out play you, make 4th quarter runs, repeatedly remain defiant in the face of your youthful exuberance.

I think people compare you to Michael Jordan too much and do you a disservice by doing so. Yes Michael Jordan was one of the most talented players the game of basketball had ever seen, BUT his talent is NOT what made him one of the game's greatest winners.

His will to win was born through his intimate knowledge of defeat, and his fortunate apprenticeship under basketball's Socrates, Dean E. Smith. See people who are innately born without the ability to leap backboards in a single bound have a different type of appreciation for the game, that's why they make the greatest coaches.

Dean Smith taught Michael that talent was not enough to win, it takes a team to win. Even though he temporarily forgot this lesson when he came into the league. Larry Bird, Isiah Thomas, and Magic Johnson each took turns reinforcing that lesson. Dean Smith taught Michael to respect, outthink, and outwork each opponent (I'm paraphrasing from his Hall of Fame speech), once he applied that knowledge and combined it with his talent he began to dominate on a championship level.


Oh yeah and before you start thinking this is another one of MJs fans hating on you, every one who knows me knows that I also am NOT a Michael Jordan fan!

You sir lack the work ethic Everything has come to you so easily that you (like all other 80s babies) feel you are entitled. Where were you taught to persevere? My mother always told me "the only place success comes before work is in the dictionary."

Here are a few things that all champions must possess:
-Confidence
-Perseverance
-Determination

These things come with time and experience. I feel you did yourself a huge disservice by not going to college. You chose money over success. You believed the hype that you were the best. If you want to be a professional you need to study your craft. Most people go to college to become experts in their field. You had the audacity to feel like you were Great enough to skip that part...well now you are feeling the pressure.

Ever wondered why Derrick Rose and Kevin Durrant are having so much success early in their careers...they went to college!

Players later in their careers choose to go form alliances to win championships. You had the opportunity to bring the first championship to your home state and you gave that up. You flaunted your choice to leave and you are relying on your talent to get you through...you have SO much to learn!

There are a lot of GREAT, talented, and deserving ball players who never won a championship. Championships aren't guaranteed and everybody wont get one. You may join their ranks. I for one hope so, I think it will be good for the game...it will force kids to go to college to LEARN the game of basketball.



You have to develop the heart of of a champion...that heart is tested in the fire.

Hate It Or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Last week, May 27, 2011, the great poet, musician, author, and spoken word pioneer Gil Scott-Heron left this dimension, and we all have been inspired to ponder his legacy.

I remember one Saturday afternoon in the early 80s, while fingering through the record collection at my Grandma Annie's house in Elizabeth City, NC, I came across the LP (or the big plastic cd thing to you youngsters) Small Talk at 125th and Lenox. I had no idea who this guy was but I knew that I LOVED LOVED LOVED the song 'The Revolution Will Not Be Televised'! I can still hear him chanting "the revolution will not be televised"

The only line that called out to me as a 6 year old was "The revolution will not come with Coke", and would anxiously wait for that part to come. I was my quest to time it just right and jump in with that line on time. I wouldn't play anything else until I was successful.

As I look back it becomes obvious to me that I walked away with more than the powerful feeling that came with my success. No one ever thinks about who or what influences them until they get famous and asked the question.

I had never really pondered my answer to the question until this very moment...ok well maybe 3 minutes ago.

Gil Scott-Heron is one of my biggest influences. He is the first person to introduce me to poetry and the actual idea of a Revolution in smooth ass kinda way. I had never really thought of how he helped me fall in love with poetry, and embrace my inner rebel.

As a sixth grader my English teacher Mrs McMillian told me that I was "A rebel with NO cause." Even though I embraced her statement, (Kinda thought it was cool) I never really took the time to think about what that statement meant.

Rebellion is in my DNA. Every cell in my body was programmed to revolt. It clearly is so rebellious that my white blood cells are now attacking ME (thanks MS...flips the bird) but I still stand here in defiance.

I will honor Gil Scott-Heron's legacy and strive to be a part of this proverbial Revolution.

If you continue to sit on the sidelines you will miss it.

Life is but a dream. Our days were allotted & our burdens assigned long before we even crossed into this dimension.

I hope to live a life in defiance of the status quo...so I speak words of revolution & change.

Rest in Paradise Mr. Gil Scott-Heron. I am honored to have been inspired by you. I hope that you see the fruit of your labor and look on with pride.

Hate It or Love It; Either Way You Felt Somethin'

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Will Not Be Televised. Will Not Be Televised.