The June 2010 issue of Essence featured an article on a seemingly new trend amongst black women--looking for "sponsors." In this new phenomenon, independent women with six figure incomes, who can afford their own homes with all the "extras" (manolo blahniks, luis bags, the works) are finding rich men to give their own lifestyles a bit of a boost (expensive trips, breast implants). And, based on already popular t.v. shows like "The Real Housewives of Atlanta/New York/Orange County/Damn near everywhere," "Basketball Wives," and songs like Teairra Mari's "Sponsor," it is clear that pop culture has caught on to the new trend.
Ok, so the nice rich guy gets pretty girl on his arm, and the pretty girl gets the nice rich guy with all the expensive shiny things. Everybody wins, right? So what's the problem?
Problem: As "empowered" as these women may want people to believe they are by describing these relationships as mutually beneficial for both parties, they are not such relationships at all. In fact, one woman interviewed in the article states that "she can't make demands on [her sponsor's time], and two others stated that they would have to sex with their sponsor's whenever HE was in the mood (Essence June 2010) because he had pre-paid for it. So, financial "empowerment" is being acquired in exchange for the right to your own body and sexuality? What do we call this again--- I think it begins with a P?
Now, I ain't saying that love and affection is never involved in these arrangements, but I am saying that when these women seek out sponsorship and money over mutual respect and an equally yoked relationship, they are selling themselves and marketing themselves as FOR SALE. And when our little girls sing along and dance to Teirra Mari, watch Basketball Wives, or say they wanna have a Big Poppa like Kim on Real Housewives, they are selling themselves SHORT!
What do you think?
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
I'm Building Me A Home....
As the Scriptures say, "A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one" (Ephesians 5: 31)
I suppose I always viewed marriage as a partnership—forsaking all others. Not forsaking in the sense that you suddenly have to stomp on the love, help, and history you have with EVERYONE else, but forsaking in the sense that no thing or person should be held at higher regard or privilege than that union—but God. And, this included parents. Marriage is supposed to be the point at which we go from being X's son and Y’s daughter to My husband and Your wife . And although we would obviously take the things we learned in these families to start our new family, we would still be starting a new family which was no longer centered around them, but around the the new "one".
But, I don't know that this is always the case in our lives. I think sometimes, the "new" family seems so new, so much less reliable, and the foundation isn't standing on 40 yrs of reliability, unconditional love, and seeming perfection. So, we compare the success of the old with the struggle of the new, and deeming our new partner as "unreliable," "less knowing," and all around less capable of handling the things our parents have handled so well over the course of our lives, we try to erode and mold our new, pliable, and raw "Play-Doh" into that vase that was molded, remolded, fired up in the kiln, and allowed to set for 40 years and counting. What we don't realize is that in doing this, we prevent that "Play-doh" from ever having the chance to become the very unique and beautiful sculpture we could have made it. A sculpture that reflected our own union in all its own characteristics and not theirs.
And, truth be told, they never intended for their vase to be an obstacle in our imagining things other than it. They simply worked to make something beautiful, and made it visible for our admiration. But we love it so much, that we cannot close our eyes to it for just one second and allow our own imaginations to work toward the production of something potentially more beautiful. Instead, we attach ourselves to what we see there now-- after 40 yrs.
What we do not see are the tiny spots where the paint mixed together before it dried; the space in the back where a fingerprint was hardened into it in the kiln. We do not see the dents that are turned just slightly from the light, or the superglue that reattached the handle after they dropped it for the umpteenth time. No, we do not see these things in our quest to create a marriage, a life, a family, just like theirs. And as we embark on our journeys to be like them, hold on to them, prioritize them, we lose sight of the thing that should have been most important from the beginning---- US.
In short, I want us to make our own sculpture. But we can't do that until we learn to be inspired by their vase-- but not so attached to it, and its reliability, unconditionality, steadfastness, that we never even allow ourselves the chance...
I suppose I always viewed marriage as a partnership—forsaking all others. Not forsaking in the sense that you suddenly have to stomp on the love, help, and history you have with EVERYONE else, but forsaking in the sense that no thing or person should be held at higher regard or privilege than that union—but God. And, this included parents. Marriage is supposed to be the point at which we go from being X's son and Y’s daughter to My husband and Your wife . And although we would obviously take the things we learned in these families to start our new family, we would still be starting a new family which was no longer centered around them, but around the the new "one".
But, I don't know that this is always the case in our lives. I think sometimes, the "new" family seems so new, so much less reliable, and the foundation isn't standing on 40 yrs of reliability, unconditional love, and seeming perfection. So, we compare the success of the old with the struggle of the new, and deeming our new partner as "unreliable," "less knowing," and all around less capable of handling the things our parents have handled so well over the course of our lives, we try to erode and mold our new, pliable, and raw "Play-Doh" into that vase that was molded, remolded, fired up in the kiln, and allowed to set for 40 years and counting. What we don't realize is that in doing this, we prevent that "Play-doh" from ever having the chance to become the very unique and beautiful sculpture we could have made it. A sculpture that reflected our own union in all its own characteristics and not theirs.
And, truth be told, they never intended for their vase to be an obstacle in our imagining things other than it. They simply worked to make something beautiful, and made it visible for our admiration. But we love it so much, that we cannot close our eyes to it for just one second and allow our own imaginations to work toward the production of something potentially more beautiful. Instead, we attach ourselves to what we see there now-- after 40 yrs.
What we do not see are the tiny spots where the paint mixed together before it dried; the space in the back where a fingerprint was hardened into it in the kiln. We do not see the dents that are turned just slightly from the light, or the superglue that reattached the handle after they dropped it for the umpteenth time. No, we do not see these things in our quest to create a marriage, a life, a family, just like theirs. And as we embark on our journeys to be like them, hold on to them, prioritize them, we lose sight of the thing that should have been most important from the beginning---- US.
In short, I want us to make our own sculpture. But we can't do that until we learn to be inspired by their vase-- but not so attached to it, and its reliability, unconditionality, steadfastness, that we never even allow ourselves the chance...
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