Good Hair

I’ve worn dreadlocs for the past 11 ½ years. Some see locs as a form of rebellion and an anti-establishment manifesto. For me, deciding to loc my hair was a major step in my journey to total self acceptance. See, I grew up in the age where being "light skinned with long hair and pretty eyes" was the standard by which the black community measured beauty. Debarge reigned supreme on the airways and those who weren't naturally blessed with "good hair" sought refuge in leisure curls, jheri curls, wave nouveaus and good old fashioned super strength relaxers. Nothing could be done for skin color or eye color, but hair? Absolutely. For those outside of the black community, the term "good hair" refers to hair that is curly, soft, wavy, straight. It is often times a byproduct of miscegenation. Take one look at my picture and you will surely conclude that the miscegenation in my blood line was kept to a minimum. Nevertheless, susceptible to the majority, I fell in line and like a good soldier received my war scars of scabbed scalps, over-processed hair, hot comb burns, nights of sleeping on my knuckles, and a rainbow's worth of hair coloring.

I am fortunate to be a first generation American of indigenous Liberian and Guyanese descent. I wear my heritage with unmitigated pride and aplomb. My father is a member of the Kru tribe - hence my nod and mention of his indigenous lineage. He's not part of the repatriated African American contingency - he is through and through, to the bone, uncut, motherland product. My mother was a melange of African, Caucasian and East Indian (Madras) blood. The result of this union produced two deeply chocolate kissed, ample bodied, slightly relaxed wool-like coifed haired children. Given the times, this mean that growing up I felt abnormal.

I moved to New York City in 1996 one week after completing graduate studies at Golden Gate University in my hometown of San Francisco. I could not WAIT to move to New York. I had begun a love affair with the city as a ten year old girl. Back in 1980 my Aunty Shirley ran food services for Macy's at 34th Street. My brother and I spent a Christmas break with her. Every day we'd take the train in from Montclair, New Jersey and would descend into the wintery wonder that was New York City. Can you imagine what Manhattan in all its splendor looked like to a little girl from the city by the bay? It was then that I KNEW I'd return one day. So now it's 1996 and I'm moving to NYC - Brooklyn's Crown Heights neighborhood in particular. I'm excited, yet totally clueless as to how this move will irrevocably change my life.

Ask anyone who has spent any time in NYC and they will tell you the city is overrun with amazingly attractive, stunningly gorgeous, disturbingly exotic men and women. The racial mixes and 100% pure varieties represented there are mind-blowing. While this next statement may seem unlikely given what I previously stated, one of the gifts NYC gave me was a sense of self-confidence and peace with who I was/am. See, I came to a realization that there will ALWAYS be someone who will one up your beauty, intelligence, etc. However, they can NEVER trump your ability to be you. The minute I decided to accept and celebrate my 95% cacao kissed skin, nod to the motherland mane and ample form, people started gravitating towards me. All of the things that made me unique and abnormal had now made me....unique and abnormal. Unique meaning: being the only one of its kind; without an equal or equivalent; unparalleled. Abnormal meaning: not normal; deviating from the usual or typical; extraordinary. New York City's gift to me was the realization that I was one of a kind and extraordinary. Aren't we all? The master creator took care in crafting each and every one of us. Who I am, why I am and what I am, was/is ALL part of HIS master plan. Who you are, why you are and what you are was/is ALL part of HIS master plan. Psalm 139:13-16 tells us so.

I have been unemployed for just over a year now. Quite a few times in the past year well meaning friends and acquaintances have asked “do you think you may be missing out on opportunities because of your hairstyle”? My answer has been “maybe – but having locs doesn’t make me any less qualified than having straight hair makes me qualified”. My hair, good, bad or indifferent is who I am - free, natural, qualified, enlightened, worldly and real! To me, that is good hair.

Divorced and Ignored

Dedicated to Trini.

A picture may paint a thousand words, but a thousand words does not necessarily paint the right picture.

I was talking to an old friend today about post-divorce single parenthood. I've known Trini for 21 years. We met at a Christian college in the deep south. You couple Christian college and the deep south and you get a feel for the fervor and commitment to traditionalism in which we were steeped. We were catching up on all that has transpired over the years since we last saw each other. Trini got married, gave birth to three children, a boy, two girls and....got divorced. As we were talking, she said that after her divorce she felt like she had a scarlet letter D across her chest. Where/when did this letterman effect happen - going to the grocery store? No, at church. It's something that I've heard all too often, she said " single divorced parents are the most ignored group in the church". As a single I have felt that way - I mean outside of the obligatory "singles ministry" which gets and A for effort but typically earns a C- in its execution. Married life is celebrated, supported and prayed for. Singles? You're on your own (pun intended). I know this both from being a single and from serving as a Single's Ministry leader. It is virtually impossible for one ministry to meet all the needs of those who fall under the single banner. Let's see, there are: divorced, never married, divorced single parents, 18 year old singles, widows/widowers, twice married and twice divorced, 40 year old and never marrieds, never married single parents, widowed single parents... I'm sure I've missed someone. All these different "titles" if you will, have differing needs, concerns, challenges, etc. It is naive and presumptuous to think that one size can and will fit all in our churches.

My brother spent 9 years as a divorcee and shared similar observations. I've heard that all of a sudden the invites you used to get to the married couple/family potlucks get lost in the email/snail mail/evite. When the newly divorced walks into church the still married cling to their spouse a little closer (as though they might catch whatever you "have" that caused you to get divorced). And don't you dare be half-way attractive. Men, you've now turned into some lothario, roaming to and fro from church house to church house, full of pent up sexuality waiting to pounce on any woman who will give you the time of day. Women, you are needy, seeking affirmation and attention. You are the single mother who is just waiting for an able bodied man to look in her direction. You're desperate and will do ANYTHING to get out of the situation that you have brought on yourself. Of course, that is what's going on. If it were anything less - that would mean that those who remain married are susceptible to this same fate. That reality, to those who stand in judgement, is far worse than their treatment of brothers and sisters in Christ. It IS unsettling - no , not the divorced, I'm speaking of the us vs. he/she that many Christian married couples adopt instead of reaching out to a brother or sister that is hurting.

I've been fortunate to have a front row seat to relationships and marriages at varying stages. I remember speaking to my brother and saying "I never realized how much of a DAILY chore it is to stay married. Every single day you have to choose to overlook, ignore and forgive". His response "many marriages are one incident away from all hell breaking loose". That is why my wise Aunt says, "you have to figure out if the juice is worth the squeeze". Some studies suggest that 50% percent of first marriages, 67% of second and 74% of third marriages end in divorce. Sure, that's the world you say. What do the statistics tell us about Christians and divorce? Surprisingly, some studies have found Christians have a higher divorce rate than atheists AND agnostics. WHAT??????????? Being a Christian doesn't insulate you to the challenges in life nor does it mean that you are less susceptible, it means that we put our faith and trust in something/someone beyond ourselves to carry us through whatever comes our way.

There is a puzzling phenomenon in our churches. There is this unspoken ether of shame that is often cast upon all that don't fit the traditional model of a bible thumping, tithe paying, picket fence having, 4 door sedan driving family.

I am very open about my struggles. I am at the precipice of 40 years of age, single, God fearing and am also 65% spirit led and 35% flesh led. And let me tell you, the 35% flesh is giving the 65% spirit a run for its money. Whenever I've had the courage to address the issues that I would understandably encounter I get these "looks". Why is reality so disconcerting in our churches? Our churches are to be hospitals not hospices. The result of our church's inability to address these needs results in the wounded, the struggling, the confused, the everyman/everywoman looking beyond the church doors and worse yet, diverts them from the doors altogether.

I would love to hear from you on your thoughts/observations/experiences with regard to church life post-divorce.

Oprah & Gayle - Gay or Nay?

With all due respect to alternative lifestyles, I feel compelled to address the murmurs of what many find as Oprah & Gayle's disconcertingly close relationship. For the record, I get it....I get them...I love them...I am JUST like them. Stacy Campbell Marshall is the apple of my eye. There is no one that understands my layers like she does. If I have $1.00 Stacy has $1.00. If we go on a trip and there's a twin bed to share, we'll figure it out. Stacy is my greatest confidant, cheerleader, advisor, blackhead wrangler and, wait for it - SOULMATE. Yep, I said it...soulmate. I've said this about her numerous times and every time I speak these words, tears come to my eyes. The amazing thing about Stacy is that her personality and radiance are so immense that despite the fact that countless people draw from her light, she still manages to light my life with joy, support, laughter and love! Stacy and I have discussed this preoccupation with Oprah and Gayle's sexual orientation. We both feel sad for any woman who has not experienced the warmth and the cradle of a friendship where you can be your vulnerable self, your ugly self, your confused self, where you can be you.

I am sad to say that I have let Stacy down, but she's forgiven and loved me in spite of my shortcomings. Stacy has forgiven me for things I've found hard to forgive myself for. Who wouldn't want that type of love and acceptance? Why must we label something unseemingly for that which we can't understand? Now, don't misinterpret what I'm saying - if Oprah and Gayle were/are gay that's their business. I'm not labeling alternative lifestyles as unseemingly, I'm saying how twisted are WE as a society that the beauty of an incredibly close friendship is looked at with skepticism? Why MUST it be sexual?

Stacy got married August of 2008 - it was a happy and sad day for me. Happy because I had the honor of standing as her Maid of Honor (if you knew the number of friends Stacy has you'd be impressed too), and happy that she'd found her Boaz. Sad, because my place in her life would understandably shift with priority given to her other soulmate - Dr. Dwight Marshall. Amazingly, not much changed - Dwight welcomed me into their circle, not threatened, but appreciative of our friendship. In August of 2010 Dane Alexander Marshall was born. Again, I braced for the change and again, amazingly not much has changed. I am now a proud Aunt to a brown sugar cake little boy. What a gift, what a blessing, what a treasure - i've got a soulmate and her name is Stacy Campbell Marshall!

The Ties That Bind

On May 3, 1971, I was introduced to someone who would become one of the most influential people in my life - Alvin Kumeh Chea. Alvin is my big brother, my protector, my reminiscing buddy and my friend. Now, growing up we weren't particularly close. As a matter of fact, a few of years after meeting me (May 3, 1971 was the day I was born) Alvin tried to suffocate me. I guess I had begun my obnoxious little sister stage and he figured he'd had enough. Alvin peppered my life with many memorable experiences. There was the time that he put halloween masks on my poster bed while I was sleeping. I simultaneously woke up and passed out. There was the time that I had made him so mad he punched me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me (to date that was the only time I've had the wind knocked out of me. I should also mention Alvin was wearing a cast at the time). Yeah, as my mother would say as youngin's "our coocoo didn't boil". Happily I can say that post the beatdown my mother gave him for the Frazier like beatdown he put on me, our siblinghood has been on a constant rising trajectory.

When I was in middle school, Alvin introduced me to Chuck Mangione, Al Jarreau, Spyro Gyra, The Yellowjackets, Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind and Fire, Tom Browne, Boz Scaggs and countless other musicians. I remember jamming to funky basslines, chord changes and rhythm sections with a Quincy Jones like appreciation in the 6th grade. Jamaica Funk drew me in back then and it remains my all time favorite funk jam. Alvin is responsible for making me a music snob.

In June of 1989, my brother managed to complete a double major in English/Communications while traveling the world with the newly formed Take 6. 25 years, 10 Grammy's and countless other awards later my brother continues to accomplish what for most would be daunting. He is a full time husband, full time father, full time Take 6 member, part time law student, full time session singer and voice over artist, men's ministry leader and praise team leader. And no, we're not Jamaican :-)

As a father I liken my brother to a modern day Heathcliff Huxtable, minus the Coogie sweaters and penchant for hoagies. His oldest just turned 19 and his youngest was 2 months old at the writing of this piece. His approach to parenting is steeped in practicality, pragmatism and where the rubber meets the road-isms. My brother is very much his mother's child. Quite often my nephew Cole will ask me a question which more often than not is usually totally off the wall and abstract. Without hesitation I tell him to "go ask your father, he'll know the answer". Guess what, he usually does.

My brother isn't big on words, but when he does speak he is dropping pearls of wisdom and you know his words are thoughtful and sincere. The other day he told me I was a better cook than my mother (my mother was an extraordinary cook). You would have thought both Julia Childs and James Beard had presented me with a culinary honor. With all that my brother has accomplished in life, it would be easy to pick an accolade on which to pin my admiration. Truth is, if my brother weren't a multiple award winning artist I'd still be tickled pink to share the Chea name with him.

Alvin, if you are reading this - know that my love, admiration, support, and awe is unconditional. You are an amazing man, a rendering of the type of man I pray to be joined with one day.

Always-
Cynthia

30 things about little ole' me

1. I think I would be the perfect first lady to a ruler of an African nation
2. When I was a teenager I used to make out with my pillow. I've been told it was a worthwhile effort.
3. I am unseemingly preoccupied with Ebay and I've got the goods to prove it!
4. I always feel like somebody's watching me.
5. I've already picked out the names for my three children - Orion, Sinoe & Cassius.
6. While I am very much a girlie girl, I am partial to boy children and would be happy to have only boys. Oh, I REALLY have a thing for nerdy, eyeglass wearing, bug collecting little boys.
7. If there were such a thing as previous lives, I believe I was the child of an incredibly wealthy Jewish titan of industry.
8. I both love and loathe working out.
9. I rehearse what I'll say when I meet a celebrity but when I do I just stand there and blink repeatedly like i'm chromosonally challenged. I am SURE Idris Elba sent in a check to some mentally challenged kids charity after meeting me.
10. I rarely if ever go to movies. On the average, I see 1 movie a year.
11. I've been to Uganda, Ecuador, Kenya, Hawaii, South Africa, Australia, Trinidad & Tobago, Guyana, Panama, The Bahamas, Turks & Caicos, Canada (Calgary & Toronto) and Germany but have only visited a smattering of the continental United States.
12. I want a French bulldog. His name shall be called "Basquiat".
13. There are entire spans of years of my life of which I have NO recollection. I went to my 20th high school reunion and sat through a number of stories where I was the central figure....nope, zip, nada, no recuerda papi!
14. I have the ability to make very compelling arguments from either side of the aisle. My neurosis is a gift.
15. If I could only eat one meal everyday for the rest of my life it would be fish & grits (cornmeal breaded whiting and cheese grits to be specfic) OR Foie gras on brioche. How's that for two extremes of the food world?
16. Intellect trumps looks for me EVERY time. Intelligence and depth are maddening aphrodisiacs.
17. To date, the BEST years of my life were spent in NYC from 1996-2002 with Stacy Campbell Marshall, Lejoi Reese & Jay Mayberry.
18. I am an amateur art collector and I can't wait to put my collection on display. So far I've got Kehinde Wiley and Kadir Nelson in my bounty!
19. I have nightmares of being chased by a hairdresser wielding a vat of super Optimum perm.
20. I am totally CONVINCED that a woman can NEVER have too many shoes.
21. My paternal grandfather was a paramount chief and the founder of the village of Bana in Sinoe County, Liberia.
22. When I was a baby, my brother thought I was so ugly he tried to suffocate me.
23. I was thisclose to adopting an incrediby beautiful little girl from Uganda. Not being able to do so was my biggest disappointment but turned out to be an even greater blessing.
24. I would move ANYWHERE for love.
25. I always thought my soul mate would be my life mate. Turns out my soul mate is my best friend/sister/therapist/cheerleader Stacy Ann Campbell Marshall.
26. I am a hopeful romantic. Just when I think I've given up on love I fall right in all over again!
27. I live by the credo "take the meeting". You never know what the person across the table has to offer. This nugget was a gift from my broham - Alvin Kumeh Chea.
28. I still believe that honesty is the best policy. If I mess up, I'll fess up.
29. I am amazed that so many "grown folk" live such emotionally irresponsible lives. To put is simply, it still stands that "what goes around comes around".
30. Falling in love with Jesus is the best thing I've EVER done!

Images, artists, people, quotes and other things that inspire me

Jesus Christ. No other words necessary.


"It is cynicism and fear that freeze life; it is faith that thaws it out, releases it, sets it free." Harry Emerson Fosdick



All you need to add to this is "prayer is the turntable".


My father - Amos DoeGma Chea, an indigenous Liberian of the Kru tribe. My father started school at 11 years of age, excelled in school, was chosen by the President of Liberia to receive a scholarship, came to the states to study education, met my mother in an elevator at San Francisco State University, got married, had my brother, moved BACK to Liberia, came back to the states and had me. Most importantly, my father has lived a consistent, sincere, disciplined and honorable life for as long as I can remember. The way he has lived his life is more powerful than any sermon could ever be.



Kara Walker creates images that are riveting, beautiful, disturbing, majestic and full of truth


This is the work of Ruud Van Empel, an amazing Dutch artist. I call this girl "Kemigisa". Van Empel places her both in her finest and in nature. The richness of the green dress, the foliage and the depth of her skintone are extraordinary. For me this image evokes the purity and promise of Africa's children.







Rachel Roy - Her story proves that dreams can and do come true.








Herman Stanley McLeod, my maternal grandfather. A strikingly, severely handsome man, native of Guyana, one of 4 boys, father of 5 girls, sharp dresser and heartbreaker. I SO wish I could have met him.




LOVE the juxtaposition of ethnic fabric and haute couture. Very chic.



Peonies - lovely and delicate.


Louis Vuitton's modernized take on 50's era fashion - pleats, simple styling, ladylike dressing.


I ADORE this image - the turbans, the rich colors, the layering. To me, style is about taking risks, being fearless, expressive and individualistic... it's about discovering your voice and singing for all to hear.



French bulldogs are the perfect combination of fiesty, loving, beefy, petite and sturdy with a smidgen of quirkiness.



This is the PERFECT shoe. THAT. IS. ALL.

Take the meeting!

Excuse the typos. I'm a rambler, not an english major :-)

I've been fortunate to have people in my life who've given me stellar advice. 1. (With regards to employment)- Don't turn down jobs you haven't been offered. You never know what might lead to what - investigate. See if this opportunity might give you a skill set that you wouldn't get otherwise. 2. (With regards to dating) Take the meeting. I've gone out on dates with all types of men. Phd's, surgeons, actors, "blue collar" men, lobbyists...I've gained something from ALL of those experiences and recognized that the real difference is not money, status, it is OFTEN character. Stay open ladies, you NEVER know who may be for you. I will also add to the mix that while I have a preference for chocolate (ok I'll take chocolate with a dollop of cream as well), I am open to the swirl. Shoot, I’m open to a collard greens and egg roll combination.

I’ll take the meeting – I’m 5’6 but I STAY in 4 inch heels, so when I accepted the invitation to dinner from a 5’4 gentlemen I felt quite the amazon. In all fairness his profile said he was 5’7. What would have been a 3 inch differential blossomed into a ½ foot problem. But I digress, Eharmony said we matched on 40 points (clearly one of them was not height) so I “took the meeting”. It didn’t work out – not even slightly. However, I think that women in particular need to learn how to date. Broaden your horizons, take the meeting. You NEVER know what the person on the opposite end of the table has to offer. For the record, if there happens to be a vertically challenged gentleman reading this, know that I don’t discriminate. Some of the greatest gifts come in smaller packages AND I’m not opposed to rockin’ some fly flats in the name of love ☺