While You’ve Been Out Evolving . . .

I came across a man’s “prepare to be dumped” post which lamented what women will be doing to their partners once they returned back home 🥴. My church girl heart cackled at every comment. My time was thoroughly wasted! 🤣

At the time of this writing, FORTY-THOUSAND women of all ages are waking up to the final day of the “Woman Evolve” conference in Texas. They are pumped and primed. They have prayed and purged. They will soon prepare to return home.

I’m one of ya aunties from the #WomanThouArtLoosed and #NoMoreSheets era. Here’s a quick recap to make it make sense in case you’ve been under a rock or not caring what black women were doing in their spiritual lives.

The curator and grand-daddy of Christian women’s conferences, Bishop TD Jakes, is the father of the “Woman Thou Art Loose” movement. At its peak we were driving up to a much less congested Atlanta area in the early 2000’s experiencing days that bled into nights worth of events. He was pulling any and everybody to come and pour into some of the most powerful yet ignored sectors of our society—an audience made up of predominantly black and brown women. You had some white sisters sprinkled in there but it was mostly the sistahs saving up their hard earned coins to come and get a word for their next season.

Bishop Jakes’ daughter, Sarah Jakes Roberts, I’m sure used to be backstage watching her daddy preach. She now wears the mantle and we are seeing an evolution in Christendom taking place. We all know her story. A young teen mom with a child on her hip, behind stage watching her daddy move thousands of women (with the infallible help of the Holy Spirit) through messages of hope and perseverance. He spoke to our pain like no other. While Oprah at the time was rationalizing our problems, TD Jakes was that spiritual surgeon who went deep into our hearts and left us realizing that no matter what we looked like on the outside, if our insides wasn’t right it would all be for naught. Bishop Jakes would soon embed things like financial workshops and mental health professionals in the later years. By this time the body of Christ was realizing that faith and fear did co-exist even as it did in the lives of so many men and women’s stories in God’s
Word. By the end of the conference we were ready! Ready to conquer. Ready to reclaim. Ready to receive all that God had in store for us.

And then we got back to reality.

Husbands and partners sent us one way but we came back “different”. Them no more sheets turned into very cold sheets.😩 Children didn’t recognize their mommas. She was doing too much. Friends who didn’t attend, now relegated to the backseat; all the while watching the “conference besties” speak in conference codes. 🙄😒 Church members and ministry friends could not quite decide whether they would like this new/old member. 👀 From my First Lady perch I’ve seen it all, heard it all, yes even participated in some of it in this thing called Christ-like living. So let these next few words from a “been there, done that” sister sit with you for a minute.

When you get back, the world will meet you still unchanged. A whole globe has been turning while your bubble in Texas cocooned you in a spiritual flow. You’re the one who has experienced a quickening in your spirit—not them. The non-theologian in me recalls that in Exodus 32 Moses “was so long in coming down from the mountain”
that the people had taken matters
into their own hands building a whole golden calf. Now ma’am, while your family won’t be using up all your gold jewelry to create some random idol, they will still be carrying on with life and expecting you to slide right back into your routines. Your colleagues and your boss may or may not even know you’re a Christian much less that you took a trip that’s potentially set to turn your whole life right side up. And get ready for this one—that same church you’ve sat in for years and years may not be ready to see this new you walk through the doors next Sunday. The caveat of a global pandemic has left many a believer in spiritual limbo. This conference might have flipped the script for you—but for your fellow parishioner, their life has not been met with a similar experience.

You have changed. They have not.

In these next few days and weeks and months after returning, I’m encouraging you to pace yourself. Our faith in Jesus is a race that’s made for each runner to experience in their own lanes. We are in a marathon and what we learn along the way is not to be used to trip anybody up or cause us to leave so much dust behind, so much so that folks behind us can’t even see.

Be patient with the rest of us who didn’t go. We see you on social media. You’re glowing Sis! We love that for you. We’ve seen the posts and the reels and some of us might be low key jealous. Back in my day, we had no social media so we just came back, debriefed and went on about our business. But nowadays we are there even when we’re not. So be patient. We were not there to sit and experience it with you. Give us a moment to digest the fact that you’re coming back exponentially changed. Give us a moment to recognize that you’re moving differently.

Some of us won’t like it. We want our friend, momma, woman, and colleague back! We want the one who used to *insert old behavior* but now she call herself *insert new behavior*. And while an explanation is not due to everybody it is due to some bodies.

So come on back to us all glowed and growed up. Your spirit is at peace. You’ve got some decisions to make. We may not understand it all but if you give us a try and spoon feed us a lil’, we just might surprise you. Right this minute one of my evolve friends has voluntold me into a book club for 2024. I am not going to tell her no. I’ve been praying for a faith community that looks different from my norm—where I’m just a participant—not an expert. I am actually excited to receive the overflow from what she’s coming back with!

To all my evolving sisters, come on back down from your weekend on the mountain. We can’t wait to have you back home sharing on what God has imparted to you. Some will receive—others will not. 🤷🏾‍♀️.

No worries. Such is life. The rest of us are here for it! 😘

Paid it All AND Forgiven!

I recently caught my therapist up on my weekly happenings and nearly forgot to mention that I’d recently received word that my (PLSF) student loans were forgiven. In the moment of finding out, I was elated and recognized that a year’s worth of back and forth, missing signatures, blank forms had finally met the designated and preferred ending. A special shouts out to my gal-friends who encouraged me to keep at it and to fight through the bureaucratic BS. Nothing like a girls trip to get you all the way right!

Sitting with my therapist recounting this, I got teary eyed thinking of being an undocumented Haitian girl with parents who had no legacy beyond an “1804 Revolution” to gift me with. I’d earned a local scholarship that I would later find out did not pay for my books–nor my dorm. I’d also learned that there would be no Pell Grants to offset the difference. Apparently, parents making $3.50 an hour was not a priority for the Feds; so the student loans became that safety net. I wanted to live on campus. My college campus was 15 minutes away from home but I wanted to live, scratch that, I NEEDED to live on campus. Student loans helped with that. My mom would have my one Publix brown paper bag ready each week with my fave (but expensive) breakfast items. My Little Ceasar’s job paid a few coins. My dad would come through with $600 (half of what I needed) to pay for my 1983 Toyota Corolla. Student loans handled the rest. I can go on and on with how them student loan coins came through for the clutch!

I’m not from much of anything by this world’s standards. I’m not “generations” of anything in this country. I did not come from parents who could afford to donate to anybody’s college fund. There were no college affiliations, no Greek affiliations, no cotillions to give me give me a leg up. Student loans did that. There’s a faction in this country that would demonize the self-advocacy for getting these loans paid off. Cheeps, *sucks teeth like a Haitian woman*, yours truly nearly got caught up in the guilt trip until I realized that my reality is not theirs. This leg up that they have, I could not possibly dream to attain back then and can barely fathom in this moment. Folks sitting on generational stacks on stacks just waiting for their children to make that move. Tax dodging shelters set up all in the name of benefiting the grands and great grands. I had nunna dat. Me nor a whole heap of us out here who are praying to the same Jesus they’re praying to, praying for a forgiveness of both sins AND student loans. Never mind I’m a whole social worker who was out here for years in people’s homes, in challenging communities, doing the Lord’s work in spirit and in truth! If forgiveness should not come for this then I don’t know what should.

While I recognize that my circumstances of being a whole dedicated Public Servant for half of my professional life is not the same for the next person, I’m guessing my therapist just wanted me to sit in the moment a bit longer than I did. To honor my late mother’s role in making sure that I got what I needed to the best of her ability. To honor my father’s sacrifices to get me to the point that I did. And to remember that student loans paved the way all the way to forgiveness.

Costa Rica: Adventures With Travel Savvy Kids

Young Traveler and his mom on one of Mistico Park’s six Hanging Bridges.

I’d like to take a moment to say that in traveling, me, Delphine Gervais, is the last person who will jump out or jump into anything.  The only risk I’m taking is figuring out whether I have to choose between traveling with my my Ipad and Macbook Pro.  I usually end of bringing both. So when you consider traveling as a parent or companion with an under 18 year old in the  mix–there is no greater risk you will be taking while “pon di road” with the “likkle” ones. As a villager who ‘parents’ other people’s children sporadically in their lifetime, I do not take it for granted that traveling with children can be like wrangling cats for a Macy’s Day parade.  I’m that passenger who unrepentantly thanks the Holy Trinity that I didn’t forget my noise cancelling headphones.  When you and your toddler come round the corner with the huge bags and strollers, I offer a silent petitions to be football fields away from you on the plane.  I’m also the onlooker who side eyes your teens for leaving random pieces of trash throughout the airport like the walking crumbs they are.

Mind you I’m just as guilty as they come when it comes to childhood traveling memories. I have vague memories of toddler Delphine barfing up her innards on a plane trip to from St. Maarten to Haiti.   I also remember my parents digging through a suitcase for a change of clothes.  I’m sure they were done with me at that point, counting up the years towards age 18.  Bless their young parents’ hearts.

On this trip, Young Traveler has taught me a lot about myself in terms of traveling with children as well as what it would take to prepare any child for traveling internationally.  So I’ll use the privilege of my pen to share my unsolicited thoughts on what I think it would be necessary to get you and your chirrens ready for the world of international traveling.  To be sure, domestic traveling might have some overlaps but there is something to be said about preparing to stamp the passports of children for the global world they live in.

Teach them to be empathetic

My teeth gnashing reaches level 100 when I am a witness to children who center themselves as the beginning, middle and end of everything that goes on in life with little to no consideration of others.  Self-centered children grow up to be classmates/colleagues who shove others aside in the quest for success or partners who do more harm than good to loved ones.  They also make terrible travelers.  When entering other countries, you want your child to walk a mile in the shoes of others.  People from other countries already have presumptions about American travelers.  They call us everything but a child of God including words like pompous, difficult and arrogant.  Those of African heritage might get a pass, but nobody cares about skin color if you cannot be a decent human being. Normalize the art of waiting in line, the potential of being asked to do something that they’re not accustomed to, and honoring the requests of people in authority.  Sir and ma’am, if your child thinks you are the only authority figure in this whole wide world, then you’re not ready to travel.  Go back to the drawing board and read this when you’ve got your kid(s) ready to listen to other people.  Nobody got time to be dealing with a bratty kid in these not so friendly skies.  

Teach them to take risks

So you know I already said a mouthful about my scaredy cat tendencies.  I’ve processed this as part of my journey towards self-insight and you’ve got my Haitian mother to blame for most of my inhibitions. God bless the lady, but Sis did not think swimming and going to the prom were a necessary part of my childhood; the first of which my dad tried to teach and the second he overruled her.  So I’m not a swimmer–but love the ocean and I went to prom and have vague memories of it.  All of this to say that allowing your children room to breathe on their own on the road towards independence is a must. We want to encourage individual thinking, trying new things, and exploring on their own while under the watchful gaze and guiding arms of parents/caregivers. 

Teach them to be mindful

You want to be able to know that when you’re up and down in these people’s countries that they’re not constantly glued to their electronic attachments.  I’m on team “zero electronics” unless it is for learning and at dedicated times of the day.  This “pacifier on a plug” generation spends more time watching other people live out their lives rather than living their own. I’m the kid who grew up never knowing what the 8:30pm and on TV series looked like, so don’t mind my off-road ranting. Your child needs to know that personal safety is everyone’s responsibility whether you’re the six year old watching the bags while mommy feeds the baby or the 16 year old who has to make a run for the bathroom with the younger kids.  Everybody needs to remain alert and mindful of their surroundings.  I read somewhere that two people tried to separate a mother from her 17 year old daughter while returning back home from abroad.  Airport officials believe it might have been a sex-trafficking attempt.  Granted, bad things can happen to anyone, anywhere but children’s level of awareness of self and of self in relation to others should not be taken lightly. 

Teach them to talk

I cannot speak enough about raising children who are comfortable in their own skin while also being comfortable in the presence of others.  This is where I pause to bash the myth of introverts.  As the lifelong president of the Southeastern United States Chapter of Introverts Worldwide, (no such thing but I am in my head), I do hereby remind people that being an introvert does not mean I am rude or insensitive.  It simply means that I find rest in solace and am intentional in how I regroup to face the world that stretches all my senses to its limits–hence this  two week vacation to Costa Rica.  So you telling me your child is an introvert because “they don’t speak to people” is balderdash.  Not speaking to people outside of the family on a long extended stay will wear you out by the end of day two.  Mind you everything has to be considered from a developmental perspective.  The social worker in me is gravely concerned for children whose social skills remain lacking in the area of exchanging thoughts and ideas with people in particular who they might share little in common with .  Children can be great communicators regardless of their varying abilities.  Traveling internationally means trying out new things, eating new foods, and being curious about their surroundings.  Who wants to spend money on a kid who prefers to stay indoors watching Netflix all day?  Could have done that at grandma’s house.

Raising children with a global perspective starts with traveling to different places locally and abroad.  It starts with trying a meal that is not of one’s culture.  Of learning words that do not come naturally but are spoken elsewhere by another child in the world. 

Costa Rica: Travel Day

Welcome to Costa Rica!

Travel day is the usual.  I’m always on time.  I have my Haitian father to thank for that.  I’ve been rising and riding to airports at the crack of dawn before “post-911” airport rules and the behavior has stuck.  Running through airports is not a good look on me.  I’m one who follows directions so I can’t speak about mistakes made–cause there were none. Well maybe me trying to help the lady who didn’t read her directions at home and chose to remain flustered even after I made attempts to normalize the new travel rules. She just was not having it, asked way too many questions and nearly made me miss my spot in line for my Einstein bagel.

Word to the “wanna be wise” though: read, read, read! And read again. 

I was the first to fly in and the long lines to connect with Costa Rican airport officials was mad long.  That being said, for the most part no one complained.  This pandemic has generally tempered people’s dispositions.  I got the sense that people were just happy to have made it across the miles and the fact that we were all here meant we were much closer to some much needed time away.  My driver met me outside.  Ya’ll, I had a sign with my name on it.  He took me into the city’s traffic jammed streets and we spent the time reflecting on our commonalities–him a white man from Holland, me a Haitian girl from St. Maarten.  Google the connection. Trust me, it’ll make sense.  

Aluminum roofs stood next to tiled ones, cement homes, bars and gates from the poor to the wealthy–everyone had some fence or gate marking out their property.  My driver said it is the norm here; not for security issues but to remind folks of what hard work looks like and how it’s reflected in ensuring that everyone knows where their land ends and begins.  The people, he said, are easy going and enjoy tourism because it’s a mutually beneficial system.  There is no sense of resentment towards foreigners here in Costa Rica.  We bring money, they make money–everybody’s happy.  Regarding COVID-19, the expectations are to wear a mask in public places, wash your hands at the establishments’ doors and use hand sanitizer as often as possible as much as possible.  I’m vaccinated and my driver was too so we mutually agreed to do our own thing.  Him no mask–me with my mask partially on.  

The winding roads became less populated with cars as we went further up the mountains to our home away from home in Atenas.  I was struck by how lush the mountains were. For those who have traveled to Hawaii, or in and around Gatlinburg, TN or Asheville, NC think that but exponentially more richer in view. I grew up with mountains on the island so being somewhere outside of “flat land Florida” was such a pleasure to repeatedly experience. For the car sick folks, keep some gum in your mouth and water nearby if you’re a passenger.  Between the ears popping and the bile . . . Whew! But I made it though!

The rental home is on a private, gated property.  A gardener and his family live there and the pool and grounds are cared for by him, an added layer of security for sure.  The home faced the mountains with a large veranda that provided some of the best views of the country’s landscapes.  I got a quick tour and was left to my own devices.  A quick bite of chicken empanada and coconut water held me down for a few hours as I waited for my travel buddy to arrive.

As car sick as I was walking through the doors, I knew that this trip was worth the May/June grind that I found myself in, front loading what needed to take place to walk away from my practice (for the most part) and other obligations in life. I knew that #PuraVida was just one self care decision away.

A King Has Fallen

My inner child welcomed and celebrated the Kingdom of Wakanda. A fantastical place where onyx-hued men and women lived and breathed in freedom.

Where women fought alongside their men as fellow warriors and the love of science and math was the norm rather than the exception.

In 2016, Prince T’Challa made his first appearance in Captain America Civil War (the year of Boseman’s diagnosis).

In January, 2018, we the citizens of Wakanda in full regalia celebrated our blackness like no other time in the history of movies. We adorned ourselves in wardrobes worthy of our ancestors and our heritage.

We saw ourselves in the reality of our blackness and greatness and not the as what white washed archeologists have persisted in having us think we have been over the centuries.

We knew this Wakanda story-telling was but the tip of the spear in that AFRICAN people across the ages contributed greatly to humanity; understanding now more than ever it is the biggest kept secret of mankind.

We flexed and crossed our arms in solidarity as only true citizens of Wakanda should. Fists closed across our chests in strength and power. Chins elevated with piercing eyes that spoke volumes. We are here. We are not going anywhere. We are not just woke, we are alive and breathing. And now more than ever—WE SEE YOU.

Chadwick Boseman’s pastor said he prayed for this role for years. Boseman had a choice to either sit aside in the midst of his cancer diagnosis or press forward.

We are thankful that he chose the latter.

We are thankful for him and so many others who reach that bump in the road of suffering and elect to march on. We are thankful for him and so many others who regard our bodies as something to be obedient to our mind and our willpower.

I imagine Boseman’s strength was renewed daily to carry on the mantle of his earthly assignment. To bring forth movies where we saw ourselves not as a stooped down sojourner in a land that didn’t belong to us but rather as a cocky, intelligent, self-confident black man in a land that didn’t belong to us—but should.

I imagine he mounted up on eagle wings for each challenge that came his way. Each cancer treatment each doctor’s report met with prayers and fortitude. I imagine he continued to run to keep weariness at bay and walked because he refused to faint.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It is okay to grieve the loss of someone you’ve never met. It is what makes you human.

All of Wakanda grieves today. Our king has fallen.

COVID-19 And Your Mental Health

At the onset, we were dancing at DJ parties, hobnobbing with the rich and famous and getting a peek into their homes. The second week we were hopped up lol-ing on ‘Rona memes. In the third week, kids were back in school and the “we are not okay” parent posts started up. Then the Zoom conference hilarities began. It was kosher until the micro managers of our world figured out how to track attendees. Then they realized you were badmouthing them on the chat. It was all fun and games until.

Now we are all entrenched in the regimens of this unfamiliar existence in homes that might not allow for six feet of anything. Playing musical chairs with where each person’s home office is going to be for the day. Poor wifi connections stretched to the gills. Smart TVs and tablets vying for the ‘innanet’ juice. Let’s not talk about who’s essential and whose not!

Meanwhile you’ve began to see mobile hospitals being built and mass graves being dug. Your once stoic and even keeled medical professional friends are calling you whispering words of dire warning. They are also posting (to sometimes deaf ears and blind eyes) that we all stay our [insert expletive] in the house. Some of us listen. Most of us don’t.

Now they’re saying black folks are dying like they’ve never died before. Suddenly, someone telling us a group of people (our own peoples) are at a higher risk than others serves as the cold water to our face. It is sobering and sad. We can’t seem to catch a break. Newsflash! Wakanda does not exist and there is no Vibranium coming to save us!

I took a reluctant trip to the grocery store this week. Walked in twice because I’d forgotten something the first go round. Walked back out and saw a line of folks stretched to the end of the building. It struck me then, yep this is for real. I found myself breathing a bit more erratic. Suddenly my mask felt like somebody’s hand over my face. I had to just give myself a minute and practice what I’m always preaching to my clients. Breathe girl. Greater is He that is within me. Breathe. Breathe. Breath work and affirmations. I’m also willing to bet some toilet paper and bleach there are others shook to their core; using both healthy and “suspect” coping skills to just get through in this season. Netflix, wine and weed will only go so far good people.

I’ve gotten calls from a local EAP personnel asking if I was still open for business. “Delphine, right now it’s calm but we anticipate that folks are going to be calling you,” he said. They’ve already started. Some of you find it hard to admit that right about now you don’t like your kids. Some of you realize the farce of the marriage you kept together with spit and social media posts is coming unglued. Some of you are just now coming to grips with the darkness of your mind and it scares you to admit that you are not happy with yourself. Some of you have experienced death at your door. You are quarantined in your home while your husband of many years or the father you barely knew, lay dying in a hospital. Alone.

Black folks this message rightchea is JUST FOR YOU. Don’t let other cultures beat you to the doctors and the therapists. Your body aching? If the bush teas and Mucinex hasn’t made it better, seek medical attention. You’re dying by large numbers in this season. You are also dying quietly in your mind.

Here’s what myself and many of my mental health colleagues would like for you to remember:

• You are not alone.
• You don’t have to do any of this alone.
• We are in this together.
• Someone is willing to hear you speak your truth.
• There is no shame in admitting you’re coming undone.
• Jesus and therapy are not mutually exclusive.

Seek a qualified mental health professional. Do not be afraid to tell the insurance company that you want someone who looks like you, knows of your culture, speaks your language or has a particular skill set. Therapists are not created equal. We each have our niche and we each identify with specific skill sets. The insurance companies have our demographics on file. You are the consumer. Ask for what you want. Don’t stutter.

COVID-19: Give Each Other A Pass

This week my husband and I gave each other a pass. A pass is where you consciously/subconsciously decide to give your partner the leeway to make a few mistakes, where you choose to ignore said mistakes, and/or where you opt to stretch yourself beyond your usual patterns of behavior. It is where being off track with certain expectations as set forth in the marital agreement does not render you coming home to the side eye or silent treatment. We did not make a clearly stated declaration to give a pass but in 22 years of marriage, you kinda know what’s for the greater good and right about now the world coming to an end trumps petty behaviors. At least for the time being. Now exceptions to this is if you were already off your game and think COVID-19 lends you some extra credit to continue to make poor decisions that adversely impact your marriage. You sir or madam do NOT get a pass. You get a trip to a couples therapist is what you get.

As a therapist/pastor duo, COVID-19 bulldozed into our lives and we didn’t just have ourselves to think about in terms of impact. I had my clients and he had our church members. Let’s not forget to mention the parentals and a myriad of other commitments we each respectively have outside of our professions. Between the uptick in conference calls and Zoom sessions, we’ve got the social distancing thing on lock.

That being said, we went into yellow alert doing what we could to mitigate whatever the news cycle decided to share with us on any given day. I went from seeing clients in office twice a week, being a field instructor three times a week to switching from some to all virtual sessions while simultaneously managing the transition of a field internship placement to remote access. I’ve never been through a pandemic so . . . yeah it’s all new to me.

He, on the other hand, went from hosting our services at a local school to then finding out that would no longer be possible to then gaining access to another building to then making the executive decision to move everything virtual. All within 16 hours. It meant a quick pivot and switch from our normal church community experience to making the bold (yet scary) decision to trust folks to show up to church—online.

While we are both Genexers who have fully embraced the power of technology and respect it’s far reaching influence, this is still unchartered territory. He’s had to tip toe through the house while I’m somewhere else in another room maintaining HIPAA compliance on virtual sessions. Ive had to carry on sessions after hearing a glass fall and shatter (courtesy of my mother in law) praying it wasn’t one of my coffee mugs. I’ve had to listen to every update about what pastors across the country are doing and the complexities that come with trusting others to do their part in carrying out the vision.

While all of this is going on, we are the hotel service for my 71 year old Haitian mother in law who expects her coffee with carnation milk in the morning and meat with all her meals. My husband and I are fasting. We have been a meatless, coffee-less household for three weeks now. Sis apparently is NOT down for the cause. Cooking meat for someone while you are not eating it yourself is another level of personal hell, let me tell you. And let’s not talk about the whiff of morning coffee. After just two days, Sis was ready to go home. She thinks that we have no faith and that Jesus has already healed the land. Sigh…y’all pray for us.

We gave each other several passes this week. I had to go full on grocery shopping because he had a funeral to attend and then videotaping of our online service. Anyone who knows me know that I HATE being in grocery stores. Home Depot yes. Have you ever inhaled the smell of sawdust? It’s absolutely divine! But don’t ask me to go to Publix and spend my time looking up at aisle signs. I swear they keep changing them every time I show up! Suffice to say I was miffed. But he got a pass. On Monday he brought along church staff to help me hand out 100 hygiene packets at the library to a largely homeless population. He had other things on his agenda for the day. I got a pass.

COVID-19 is going to bring the absolute best and/or worst out of families in this season. You’ll be able to potty train your toddler—together. That can either be a mommy/daddy battle royale on whose up next or your little one gets to hear from you BOTH that he or she is doing a good job sitting on the potty all day. Stars and claps from both parents might even speed up the process. Your kiddos can either send you to an early grave or give you all the good feels because you get to see them outside of school uniforms. You get to take long and careful glimpses of their true selves and how they show up to the daily school routines. Classwork wouldn’t have to be a chore, but rather your way to finally teach them how to “carry that one”. They passed to the next grade already! They got the realest pass! You can now corrupt  their little minds with alternative learning methods to you heart’s content! Your kids are back home from college? Or they decided to come and “hang out” with you and eat up all your groceries? Welcome them with open arms. These years with them are so fleeting. Your empty nest is now ruffled a bit with their presence. Enjoy it while this lasts. Senior parentals got you running the risk of losing your edges? Enjoy the “senior moments” with them, make a mental note of their new limitations while sliding in that cauliflower rice and brussel sprouts in their diet every chance you get. Lord knows between my mother in law living in the land of denial and my dad’s back to back calls about the sky falling, I’ve had to breathe deeply and meet them where they are. By the way if anybody sees an 80-year old Haitian man who can pass for 60 driving around the city, that would be my father in law. Y’all just make sure he gets to where he’s going please [insert sigh]

There will be plenty of opportunities to give a pass to someone in this season. Tough times create anxious behaviors in some and for others it generates numbness. We’ve all got reasons to be off our game and we’ve all got reasons to deserve to both give and receive a pass.

Traveling While Noire: The Devil Is In The Details

For those who have read my blogs over the years, you already know I’m the bookish type.  I was reading my set of World Book Encyclopedia while some were probably outside playing street football or watching MTV back in the day.  Taking French also went against the grain because most of my peers opted to take Spanish as a foreign language course. I was a history buff and it only made sense for me to study the language my mother rarely spoke. French was/is a language taught in schools in Haiti.  But in more homes, than I care to admit to, the language will most likely die with our elders. For me taking French was yet another way I could connect with my introvertish mom. I’d go home and practice the fancy pronunciations with her and she’d repeat them (correctly) back to me.  I’d be too excited to double back to her about some new French culture thing I’d learn.  Education was a valued experience, but it was usually not a shared one in some Haitian homes.  When the opportunity came to travel to Paris recently, it literally took me about four weeks to get flights and hotels confirmed.

To me, the adventure in traveling always begins in the planning stages.  I’m an organizer by nature and I enjoy working out a plan from scratch. I nearly lost some locs in the planning, but I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed looking up hotels, train schedules, tour information and comparing the cost of everything; all for the sake of getting a good deal.  This blog will highlight what to keep in mind in the traveling planning phase, specifically for a trip abroad. Petty disclaimer: abroad at this point in life needs to translate to *any trip that takes you away from the North American continent*. I’m all for Cozumel but we have a whole entire country north of us and others well beyond our wall-less borders that we can visit within our lifetime.  So here goes!

Research Flights and Lodging

I know, I know.  Asking anyone to take the time to read through reviews, blogs and tour options may sometimes be a drag, but how else will you know where to go, what to do and what to avoid?  Websites that I used included the usual (Expedia, Travelocity, Kayak) and a new one shared by a friend, JustFly.com  Google up some other options and let your fingers do the haggling.  Keep in mind, the cheaper the tickets, the less wiggle room you have if you need to change and upgrade pass the 24 hours from purchase cut off time. Invest in business class if your pockets allow or in the row right before business class.  Pay attention to the plane’s layout and you’ll be able to see that somewhere up front is a row that faces the wall before the first class. When I tell you! That row saved my knees. I was even able to stand up and host an entire one person yoga stretch class and all!  Either way, count yourself among the number whatever seat you end up choosing.  Our pockets ain’t all the same and there’s no shame in that.  

Now if you have the plug with chain hotels, feel free to lean on those friendships now and butter them up for more opportunities to save.  People who work for chain hotels, don’t come for me.  I’m just trying to make you new “fake friends” in 2019! Lol!  If you’re into the “live like the natives” experience, feel free to review what’s shared about non-chain hotels. I knew that after 10-12 hour days out and about, I needed the comfort of a space that somewhat reminded me of home.  So chain hotels worked for me. In reading blogs, I even discovered opportunities to rent intimately sized homes where you sneezed and the window curtains moved. Nah… I’m good.  But do you boo!

While you’re doing this, read up on what the State Department has to say about where you’re going.  France is in a maelstrom right now. People are asking for the president’s resignation. Taxes are high and patience is running low.  Sorta like the French Revolution… I kept checking weekly and listening to NPR and others as the days went by. If you’re not listening to reliable international news source, (not to be confused with American media), you’re shortchanging yourself in life.  Period.

Research What You’re Going To Do

Think about who you’re traveling with and what you plan to do.  Face it, are you willing to travel with someone (paying all your hard earned dollars) who will eat Five Guys burgers every day because they won’t try anything new?  At the very least travel with people who are willing to explore beyond the norm.  Keep into account your fellow traveler(s). Introverts aren’t too keen on spending the entire time in location-packed spaces.  Extroverts could care less about walking down quiet streets with minimal interactions. Stretch your fellow trip travelers a bit without making it a taxing experience.  I’m a history buff but I didn’t count on my husband being sooo *eyes rolling* into the experience that I was just tired of looking at him go to and fro taking photos and daring me to dare him to sit on thousands of year old statues. Note to self: Don’t think you can conquer Louvre in one day.  We did three hours and only conquered Venice de Milo, Monna Lisa, and Egyptian antiquities. I was only to happy to slip into a quiet French cafe thereafter and decompress with a glass of mulled wine. Suffice to say, Louvre does owe me a couple more days of walking, among other places we visited.  We visited during winter, and I can only imagine what Paris looks like in the Spring. When you travel, don’t just do the usual. As much as I love to plan in advance, I’ve learned to land in the city, get a feel for the locale and chat it up with the hotel people, the street corner vendor, the random person on the train or the ever-reliable Uber drivers.  They usually give the best suggestions that will never make its way onto a sponsored website.  I got a couple of tours purchased on Trip Advisor but not before I went onto those tour websites directly and compared prices right down to the taxes.  Sometimes you save with the options and sometimes you don’t. And don’t sleep on Groupon!  

Flights are booked.  Lodging is handled. Tours are situated.  In the interim between anxiously waiting to “be out” and landing there, you can always read up on some blogs, look up the weather forecasts (the Farmer’s Almanac is also helpful), and if you’re extra like that, start putting your Pinterest travel outfits together.  Lemme tell you! French women don’t play about fashion. As cold as it was in Paris, the ladies were not afraid to rock the heeled boots, the short skirts with tights and their signature outerwear. You can always tell a woman’s taste by the type of coats and scarves she prefers to wear.  Derailed thought aside, read up on the culinary options. There are even websites that can direct you to private home parties. I had a friend who traveled to Lyon that was invited to a morning of fresh market shopping for his meal. Later that evening he wined and dined with total strangers in a beautiful kitchen, cooking up his personal favorites, that he personally shopped for earlier in the day.  

Your homework:

Each blog will end with homework.  I’m a social worker, so humor me.

1. If you do not have a passport, get one. It’s been said 80% of African-Americans do not have passports.  That’s problematic, to say the least.  Your worldview is constricted to the square miles it takes you to go to work and back home with the usual activities in between.  There’s a whole world of folks out there who aren’t hung up on your skin color and your hair.  They’re more concerned about your mind and your heart.  There’s a whole world of folks out there who are curious about you and sometimes it comes across as outright fear.  How else are you going to experience either, if you don’t first extend yourself?  
2. If you have a passport, double check and ensure it’s not going to expire in less than two years (which is typically about as much time as it will take to plan for a great abroad trip).  Make sure your fellow travelers are up on game.  There’s nothing worse than dealing with a “Johnny-come-Lately” who neglected to mention his passport has expired and he wants his half of the money back.  Or better yet, he didn’t bother to pay you back, to begin with.  Trust me when I say, you don’t want them kinda troubles in your life. 
3. If you’re good with the above, invest in getting a Global Entry Pass.  That covers you for TSA PreCheck and International Re-entry for five years.  What is Global Entry Pass you say? Visit the U.S. Customs Border and Protection for more details.  I think of it as a carte blanche that blesses your very tired soul when you come down from an international flight via Miami International.  As you see other international travelers fly in from all over get cramped up in those lines, you will seamlessly and graciously bypass all of that.  Disclaimer: if you have some stuff on your dossier that you aren’t too proud of,  you may wanna save your coins and endure the long lines.  No need in having Customs Border Patrol revisit your past and thereby place you on some newly formed “Imma be fresh if the Feds watching” list.  

We’ll chat it up more about my first trip to Europe (Paris and Germany).  Bear with me while I still adjust to the six-hour time difference.

Sistah Take A Seat: Where Are Your Receipts?

I shared the Mother’s Day message with my home church this year entitled “Who Is On Your Couch?” In a conversation with someone the other day, she shared how important it was to find a space in every city she moved to where she can be herself. That space is on both the couch of a therapist and then the couch of a friend. I’ll talk about the former comment in a later blog: how to choose a therapist.

Naturally, this led me to reflecting on who was on my couch, what role they played and how did they enrich, challenge, and benefit my wellbeing. Wisdom, Accountability and Friendship were the three values I felt were necessary to keep my couch balanced. So as I chop up this speaking series into written form, allow me the license that speakers don’t necessarily have; to delve a little deeper. That’s why writing is my primary go to. There’s no timer included.

Let’s unpack this whole wisdom thing. The word wisdom is losing it’s appeal as the years advance. We live in a time where people want quick fixes and they’re not interested in the process of marinating in information, testing it out and then applying it. Heck! Half the time they’re not even interested in hearing the information to begin with! I encounter people who only want to hear the first minute of what you have to say and tune out thereafter.

It’s happened to me on the receiving end. If it’s in person, they start fidgeting with their phone, their eyes glaze over and it’s a wrap. If it’s over the phone, they ask you a question to break up your conversation in the middle of what you’re saying. Subtle hints that you didn’t give them what they needed in 59 seconds or less. Warning, if you don’t like to read anything with potential for added value to your life and you don’t care to read this, stop right here and go back to living your life business as usual.

Job 12:12 reminded me that wisdom is found among our elders and that living a long life brings with it understanding. We’ve lost that concept along the way. We think our contemporaries have the answers and we neglect the counsel of the (aging) wise. We’ve ditched mentorship for tolerance and ill advised behavior. I remember when one of my mentors and I were talking about homeownership and the cost of everything going up. It wasn’t too long after the housing crash. As new homeowners, hubby and I were skating on some tough times financially so she mentioned the concept of amortization and making bi-weekly payments. She also mentioned NACA (do your research) I had never heard of it and if I was that person who let things go in one ear and have it ooze out the other, I would have missed out on some wise counsel. We refinanced for the sake of our interest rate and it was the best advice she could ever give me. She’s my go to person on all things financial. From her I learned about creating a trust. It’s something I need to get around to doing and I can never say she didn’t tell me and that she doesn’t have the proof that she knows what she’s talking about.

Which leads me to the title of this blog. Where are the receipts? When people tell me something, I do this mental chewing of sorts. Earlier in Job 12, it says and I paraphrase, “Aren’t you testing out first what you hear? Aren’t you taste testing first what you eat?” Or are you the one that gobbles down the food without a thought and wonder why you end up with heartburn? So yeah…I chew on what’s shared with me. I look for the wisdom in it, the practical application in it. This particular mentor owns multiple properties, isn’t afraid to continue investing even in her advancing years and isn’t afraid to take risks. See, she has receipts. Her receipts read to me like this: she’s been in this game of life for several minutes more than me, she has loved and lost and loved again, she’s made mistakes and learned from them and she’s mindful of her financial prowess.

So yeah… I need to see that when somebody opens their mouth to speak on anything, they are backed up with facts. When the college student does a literature review, the professor is not looking for opinions, they are looking for facts from journals not what some YouTube vlogger is trying to sell.

How do you check receipts? Line them up with the Word of God—The Bible. Yeah, I guess you expected me to get all progressive on you and keep it PG. Welp! Nope. I read and learn from a lot of books. But the one book that stands heads taller than them all continues to be the infallible Word of God. Enough said.

How do you check receipts? By actually sitting with people and get this—conversing with them. What a novel idea!!! This whole mentorship via YouTube and Instagram or Facebook is a farce! A farce I say! I follow people I admire on the Gram but I can’t call them when I’m in a bind. I’m lucky to get them to even notice when I tag them! Lol! It’s a sad state of existence when we think that just watching people live life is going to be enough to infer on how to live ours.

You can’t identify counterfeit receipts unless you’re up close and personal with others. You need to be able to take a pen to their 100 dollar bills of values and principles to see if it’s the real deal or if it’s fake. It takes a lot of work to identify the real versus the counterfeit. Yeah, you can start by looking at patterns and behaviors, but unless you have studied and work in the fields human behavior and psychology and call out a fake a mile away (fringe benefit of my profession and Godly discernment) you have to take the risk to get to know who can pour into your life and who can’t.

I get paid to mentor people in the mental health profession. I automatically bring my best to the experience. But the fact that they are a consumer reminds me I owe it to my interns to be more than my personal best. Mentorship is not a paid experience. For each person you check receipts from, they have to demonstrate that they have cleared the path you’re trying to get on.

You looking for marriage mentors? Check receipts for years of marriage, transparency in conversations and the fruits yielded from their relationship with each other. One of my mentors was married and divorced and remarried to her husband again! Now she’s got receipts of all sorts from which I have learned from. You looking for professional mentors? Check receipts that include their resume, their line of work, their endurance in the profession, their level of ambition. You looking for a mentor period? Check their receipts for values, principals, integrity, relationships with others in the community, testimonials from other mentees. Above all, pray and ask God to lead you to the right person. I did. And He did.

Checking receipts makes you realize what and who you can then accept counsel from. There’s a right fit for everyone. I realized a long time ago, can’t just anybody handle my sauce! Some find it too spicy. I can be direct. Some find it too bland. I can be methodical. Some find it too rich. I can be altruistic (or use big words like altruistic). Lol! The one with cleared receipts is not going to change who they are to accommodate the one checking receipts. Like relationships, there is someone for everyone out there. If you don’t like what they’re selling, move on to the next person. Just. One. Thing. Though. Don’t allow your pride, your insecurities or your fears to be the reason why you missed out on sitting at someone’s feet.

Your homework (should you be brave to accept it):

Identify three real life people that you know and admire (work, church, organization, etc.) Invite them out for a meal. Be intentional in speaking to them about this season in your life and if the Holy Spirit is leading, ask the one you feel led to ask to be your mentor. Be specific in what you are looking for in a mentor and what you feel they can offer in the way of counsel, advice and challenges.

Now I know some of us have some deep rooted issues with rejection. It may not be the right time for that person or they know it may not be a good fit. But you won’t know unless you ask. People are not mind readers. It’s not fair for anyone to know they were your “pretend” mentor when you never gave them the opportunity to apply for the job. There is a level of intimacy in the mentor/mentee relationship that isn’t all roses and tulips. It may not be the right timing for them, but don’t look at it as a form of rejection. Rather receive it as you doing something fearless on your way to personal growth.

So go out there! Be brave. Check receipts and take the next steps to becoming a transformed and evolved version of you.

Blogger’s Block

I’m a firm believer that if I don’t have anything to blog about, I won’t blog. New followers on the site won’t hype me up. Which got me wondering who are these new people and how did they find me? Introvert writer’s issues… A casual comment about my absence on WordPress won’t wake the sleeping dragon either. So yeah… there’s something percolating in my mind right now. It’s around the concept of mentorship, women in leadership roles, sisterhood. But I’m asking the Holy Spirit to show me some other things before I put fingers to typing.

In the mean time, do what I do. Read some of the old stuff, let it sit in your spirit for a few. Read a book. I’m like on five. One on spiritual awakening. One on how not to be a wife to a boyfriend. So yeah I’m married but there’s a summer book club that literally morphed into something unexpected. That’s usually God doing his thing. Who knows? I might get hyped after that! Lol!

Sometimes my own words come back to encourage (or haunt) me from a past season in my life. May is a tough month emotionally for me, so I go back and read the grief and loss blogs because I’d like to check my emotional pulse and see where I am with the whole missing my mom thing. There’s no getting around this month. So I might as well bulldoze through it.

Sooo much has gone on of late in my life. Some material for the blog and some for this book I really need to get back into writing. It’s true what they say. Summer bodies are made in the winter. Started on this quest for fitness again and I like the way I feel and look.

Oh yeah! I cut my sisterlocks. It’s this asymmetrical bob thingy. No I’m not going through a crisis. I just got up one day, didn’t tell anyone and just went to the barber. Now I have to get used to people staring at me when I first meet them after this hair cut. Introvert issues…sigh.

Enough about me. Do enjoy this spring, mom, grads and dad season. I know I plan to! Make new memories along the way.