Trump’s World Is Coming, Get Prepared

Something hit me recently, it came to my attention that most people look at Donald Trump as a character, someone who we love to hate but everything will be okay once he gets out of office. The problem with the mindset is that it doesn’t account for the scale of the damage he can do with simply the stroke of a pen.

Let me give you a cliff notes version of just a handful of the decision he’s made that can literally change all of our lives in a heartbeat.

  • He lifted protections that were in place against banks and wall-street. In the Mid 2000’s when banks were going bankrupt and people were losing their homes. When banks were giving out sub-prime loans, that’s going to start happening again and when it does, there won’t be a bailout this time.

 

  • He’s lifted environmental protections against oil and gas companies drilling in the oceans. This was put in place after those oil tankers lost millions of gallons of gas and destroyed coastal areas in Mississippi and Louisiana.

 

  • This may be the biggest one. Trump will have the ability to shape the Supreme Court and these men and women will be relatively young, meaning they’ll be shaping laws in this country for the next 20 years. Most don’t believe this but there’s a chance Roe V. Wade gets overturned. I’m not even a man that believes in abortions but I do believe women have that right. Could you imagine a world where women had to go to backwoods towns and risk their lives for an abortion?

These are just a few, this doesn’t even mention the immigration issue and the separating of families. The alienating of other countries and aligning ourselves with world leaders that are for all intent and purpose, dictators. This doesn’t account for the school programs that are being shut down.

Trump’s world is coming and it will be a dark place.

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You Can’t Appreciate What You Have If You Can’t Let Go of What You Had

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Author Demez F. White

Memories are incredibly dope. You can be sitting at work watching a screen and a memory can flash before your eyes like a bolt of lightning. You didn’t ask for the memory, weren’t thinking about the memory but low and behold it happened. A brief moment in an otherwise uneventful day. You look up from your desk and ask yourself the question, “Where the hell did that come from?”

And just as soon as it was there, it’s now gone. After lunch and a phone call you don’t even think about it anymore. We’re all human and we all have thoughts we can’t control. Thoughts that could mean everything and thoughts that could mean nothing. That’s really up to you, it’s up to any of us what we give our time, effort and energy to.

This is the thing though, if you stay in the past, stay living in memories. It’s impossible to appreciate your present. Not fully. Not whole heartedly. How can you when stories and moments of times gone by are still playing like trailers on a movie screen in your head.

This week I made the decision to sell something that was a huge part of my past. I found myself holding on to it because it belonged to people that were very special to me. I’ve started a business, I need capital. I could hold on to something that gives me a good memory every now and again or I can let it go and use it to build on my present and future. Go into debt or make new memories with my old memories as a foundation. It’s an easy choice.

We can use a million different excuses as to why we want to live in the past but the simple truth is it’s an easy choice to make or not make. When you see someone making the decision to walk through old doors, to give time and attention to old memories. You have a choice to make. You talk to them and let them know or you give them room to embrace those old memories.

If You Want My Vote; Stand For Something

IMG_0701Yesterday was the last day of early voting for the run-off elections in the city of Houston and Saturday is the actual elections. As someone that loves politics and the effort and selflessness a lot of these men and women put into their campaigns and offices I have to be honest and say; I have not been very impressed as of late by any politician.

Where are the politicians that inspire? That are willing to take a stand when it’s not popular. That are willing to offend people that need to be offended. Too much history went into getting me the right to vote for me to just give my vote away. It’s easy to talk about police brutality when something happens that makes news but why don’t I ever hear a politician blame the officers that sit back and do nothing while they know some of the men and women they serve with are bad apples?

When President Obama ran for President, I remember walking door to door trying to register people to vote knowing Texas was a red state. I didn’t care though, wearing that t-shirt, feeling proud to be a part of something new and encouraging. It changed me. Seven years later, where are the new generation of politicians that are going to have 18-28 year olds not going to happy hour but walking door to door?

I don’t care if you have money behind you or went to an amazing school. I don’t care if you have experience in politics or who your father was. What I care about is your love for the people and your passion for making our City, State and Nation better. I’m seeing too many people that are simply saying things because they sound good. People that have the nerve to ask me for my vote when they won’t make a statement about anything of relevance.

Donald Trump is leading the Republican candidates for President not because he’s the best option, it’s because he’s the only option that’s getting people inspired. As racist and ignorant as his comments are at times, they are views that are shared by a lot of people and that is something we have to pay attention to. Where is the Democrat that’s inspiring these sorts of passions? Is it Hilary Clinton? The same Hilary Clinton that wouldn’t stand alongside President Obama and quit on his administration so she run for office? Is it Bernie Sanders? A man that’s been around for a long time and has good ideas but no one knows or cares about? In a country as big as ours, where are the options that will change the world?

Has America Become Too Politically Correct or Is It Growth?

  It’s easy to forget just how many opportunities there are in this country if you’re willing to work for them. It would be incredibly short sided of anyone to say that sexism, racism, religious persecution and other forms of discrimination still don’t exist but I could also rationalize that we have let fanatics change the narrative of what should be the story. 
I’m not offended by the Confederate Flag but I very much understand why it has to be removed. Though I would point out that it’s only being removed in the wake of a horrible domestic terrorism incident. That’s political correctness, or at least how it should be used. Taking a horrible moment in American History and using it to effect real change politically. 

There are other forms of political correctness that I do believe are doing more harm than good. The first being our extreme takes on food. It’s crazy that we can get a burger and fries for 2.99 but a side salad cost 7 dollars. It’s unphantonable that we can buy chips two for a dollar when a granola bar cost 3 dollars. Saying all that I still think it’s crazy that certain groups are lobbying for no sodas, chips, candy or anything fattening on menus are in schools. Life has to be about moderation and sensibility; you can’t have those two traits when it comes to political correctness. It brings out the extremes in people. 

Here’s another example. When a white cop kills a black kid people often bring up, “What about black on black crime?” Now forget their motives for a second, they have a point. We aren’t as outraged when a black man kills another black man and I often here the excuse, “Why bring it up now?” Are Americans not capable of having two or three conversations at the same time? It’s okay to be pissed off and angry about multiple things. 

Political correctness isn’t ruining our country but what it’s doing is highlighting the hypocracy of our country. 

My President Is Black and That Matters To Me

President Obama

President Obama

My President Is Black and That Matters To Me

So many people in our country are intimidated by President Obama because he’s not like the black men they know in their little towns or cities. That scares them because it goes against everything they’ve been taught their entire lives. That makes me smile.

The politically correct thing to say is that it doesn’t matter that my President is a black man because he got the job based off of character, experience, education and a plan. Race and skin tone have nothing to do with it. That’s the politically correct thing to say. I don’t feel like being politically correct tonight. My Godson and Goddaughter will have lived their entire lives with a black man as President, that matters to me. That makes me smile. That means when I tell them they can be anything they want in life, I’m not lying.

There’s not one minority Senator in the south anymore. On the steps of the Texas Senate you had armed men with assault rifles openly threatening the President. Right now our country is more divided then it’s ever been and that’s because of one thing and one thing only. So many people can’t wrap their head around having a black man as President. They couldn’t six years ago, they couldn’t four years ago and they can’t now. So what…..

We’re here, we aren’t going anywhere. You can assassinate our leaders, put our fathers and uncles and cousins in prison for crimes that other men commit and get probation for. You can deny us jobs and make us build our own companies and make our own way but we are here! I will not walk with my head down throughout the day to make you feel more comfortable. I won’t bite my tongue or smile when you make a bad joke about my President, your President! I won’t be happy to have a job when I know I’m qualified to run the company! My President is black and that matters to me.

Great speech and when he’s finished with his two terms, look out for our First Lady because she’s going to be the next governor of Illinois and no telling what else!

~ Demez F. White

Dear America: Don’t Judge Us By the Worst of Us

Dear America,

Don’t judge me by the worst of my race and I won’t judge you by the worst of yours.

Who am I? I’m a black man that’s a stereotype, that’s a statistic. I grew up with a father that had a lot of kids he didn’t bother getting to know. I grew up in a neighborhood with gangs and drugs and a school district that had low test scores. Who am I? I’m a man that has refused to let any of that define me.

Often times when social issues come up other races and even some black people believe we take up for anyone regardless of their crime. That’s foolish and just not true.

My grandmother is 73 years old. She lives alone. If a 19 year old black kid breaks into her home and harms her are I or anyone I know going to cry for him? Are we going to wear t-shirts or say the police were too rough? No. Every circumstance is different and what is igniting these fires is the extreme nature of these cases. Not officers doing their jobs.

What if I judged every white person I met off of the comments I read on a Fox News post? What if I judged every white person I met off the pictures of that little girl going into a school and adults spitting at her and cursing her? What if I judged all of you based on a man choking another to death while he’s not fighting back? So don’t throw statistics about black crime at me. Don’t compare civil unrest to gang banging, criminals, thugs. You don’t judge me by the worst of my generation and I won’t judge you by the worst of yours.

We all have a decision to make. Stand up for what’s right or live your life as a coward.

Sincerely Yours,

Demez F. White

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As I Grew Older by Langston Hughes

As I Grew Older

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun—
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky—
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!

Langston Hughes

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Living Revolutionary, Nothing Less than Legendary: Martin and Coretta

Martin and Coretta

Martin and Coretta

Imagine sitting on the living room floor playing with your daughter and a brick flies through the window. No one is hurt but you hear someone scream, “Nigger go home!” There’s glass everywhere, your heart is racing, your child won’t stop shaking and crying. All you can do is grab her and run to the bedroom to lock the door. Not knowing who’s outside or if they’re coming back. This was the life of Coretta Scott King.

Sitting in a meeting, stressing because the non-violent approach isn’t working. Tired, hungry, missing your wife and young child; someone runs into the church! “Martin! Martin!” They scream, out of breath, fear in their eyes. “Someone shot at your house!” The first thought racing through your mind, “Is my family okay?” The second thought, “I want revenge but revenge goes against the movement. Revenge means that they won.” Going home to find your family hurting, afraid, crying because they’re safe but hating you were working instead of there to protect them. This was the life of Marin Luther King.

Coretta packed up and went to Atlanta, Birmingham wasn’t safe anymore in her eyes. She loved Martin, she loved the movement but she just needed time. Needed to breathe. Driving all night, worried State Troopers might recognize him and pull him over. Worried about sit-ins and beatings he drove. “I’m here for my family, I can’t do this by myself Coretta. I need you.” Holding her hand, embracing her, his heart racing, his heart calming. She sang to him when they were alone, her voice the calm before the storm that was the South.

You can the full story on www.stylemagazine.com

Coretta Scott King: More than the Wife of a King

Coretta Scott King in college.

Coretta Scott King in college.

“If a man had nothing that was worth dying for, then he was not fit to live.”
~ Coretta Scott King

There are some women that just make a lasting impression. It doesn’t matter when you meet them or for how long, once you do, you’re just impressed. I’m sitting at my computer researching an article I’m writing about the early years of Dr. King and Coretta Scott King’s relationship and something strange happened. I realized that I was falling in love with Coretta Scott King, Dr. King has been gone for a while and so has she but I almost felt as though I was doing something wrong.

I just couldn’t help it though, the more I read about her, the more I became fascinated by not just her strength after he was assassinated but with the woman she was before she became his wife. I could go into full writer mode and break it down but we live in a 15 minutes of less society so I’ll make it simple.

I’ll tell you all why she may be my favorite woman of all time!

One- When she was ten she picked cotton with her siblings so that her family could have extra money. Her father was the first black man in their town to own his own pickup truck and he built a lumber mill. When he refused to sell it they white men in the town burned it down. She knew struggle, sacrifice and hard work from an early age.

Two- Her sister was the first African American girl to go to an all white college. She took it one step further and tried to be the first woman to become a teacher in that district but they wouldn’t let her. So she left and took a scholarship at a college in Boston. She was willing to fight but knew that some battles just couldn’t be won.

Three- She’s a sorority girl. A member of Alpha Kappa Alpha to be exact. Who doesn’t love a sorority girl?

Four- She gave up her singing career to be the wife of a Baptist Preacher in Alabama. She wasn’t singing in lounges and clubs she was a degreed, talented opera singer. For her love and being with a man that could make a difference mattered more than her career.

Five- She’s gorgeous and all we have is black and white pictures. Could you imagine what she would look like in color and if she had Instagram filters? Beautiful, brave, hard working, smart and can sing? She’d be huge!

Six- The first time she met Dr. King’s father he told her that he didn’t think a singing career was cool for a minister’s wife. She told him, “Who told you I was taking your son seriously?” She then told Martin that she couldn’t talk to a man that couldn’t stand up to his father. She also asked that the word “obey” be removed from her vows. This was in the 1950’s where women rarely spoke up like that. That’s confidence and heart.

Seven- After his death she hesitated in taking a leadership role in the Civil Rights Movement but eventually she did and she kept his legacy and the legacy they created together going.

Eight- She was cool with JFK, everyone wants to be cool with JFK.

Nine- MLK Day, the King Center in Atlanta, all of these are monuments to her husband that she built. She was the one that pushed through legislation to get her husband a Holiday because of all he’d done. She was the one that fought Boston University to get his papers even though she lost.

Ten- She never remarried after Dr. King, never dated or gave her time to any other men. For as long as she lived she kept her vows even though he was gone. That’s loyalty, that’s incredibly cool.

Past the Infatuation Stage

better“I love you.”

He said again, this time louder, maybe he thought I didn’t hear him the first time. If I looked up from my phone my eyes would betray me but he didn’t give me a choice snatching the phone out of my hand and throwing it on the couch.

“I said I love you.” The closer he stepped to me the further back I moved. What we had wasn’t supposed to be love. Love is messy and jealous and insecure and mean. I had love before, I cried because of love, fought because of love. I needed a break from love.

“You don’t love me Scott, you’re infatuated with me. We flirt, we text, I send you nudes and you write about me. Starbucks and iTunes and candy and material shit that’s nonbinding. What we have is fun and sexy and we don’t have to think about it, we just do it. Why bring love into that?! Love always messes shit up! Can’t we just stay in this infatuation stage?”

“Maybe we could stay in this stage if you weren’t so damn perfect! You call me even when I don’t call you just because you know I’ll answer the phone. You accept my randomness and I accept your quirks. You don’t think I notice how you pull away when the conversations turn serious or bite your lip when to fight screaming when it feels to good. I know you’re holding back but what choice do I have? Keep pretending I’m not falling in love with you… I can’t do that anymore.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt in his eyes. What scared me the most is that I felt the same way but if love never looked out for me before then why would the bitch look out for me now?

To Be Continued…