Fall Is Falling In Love Season

Can I be honest with you all for a minute?

I’m not afraid of talking about love or feelings or fears. I’m an adult, adult’s talk about these things. There are plenty of guys that want to be the coolest or hardest in the room, that’s not me. I’m not built like that, I cook and write and flirt and love the little things that make women women. That’s who I’ll always be and I thank God for that.

Living a life where I’m anything or anyone else would make no sense.

Every season is falling in love weather. You can’t control when you meet someone and everything starts to make sense. But something about the fall is just sexy to me. I have better days when the sun isn’t shining as hard and the nights are cooler. I tend to be on my phone less during the day because I actually enjoy working outside.

No matter how cool technology gets it will never compare to the feel of body heat next to you on a couch or porch when that first Fall breeze hit your face. When you have those moments of peace, conversation and attraction falling in love is the most natural vibe in the world.

We fall in like during sunshine and falling leaves. We fall in love when the sun goes down and it’s not quite cold enough for a sweater but just cool enough for her to sit under me because she has goosebumps. When the seasons change so do our outlooks. With beautiful weather comes beautiful memories and with beautiful memories comes sensations that make our lives matter.

I’m sure a lot of people that’ll read this love summer, short dresses, late nights after day parties and summer vacations. I’d never knock summer but Fall is when I feel most alive and how can you not fall in love when you feel alive.

It’s cool to be cynical and feel like love is an overrated word or romance is dead. If you feel that way I can’t blame you because you’ve dealt with stressful men or women in your life. But if you are that person, all I can say to you is to not let that taint the season coming up.

Picnics in the park where the bugs aren’t as bad and the sun isn’t as dreadful. Late night drives to Galveston where you can’t tell just how dark the water is or just how rocky the sand can be.

Stop letting the past haunt you and say yes to whatever guy asked you out last week. Say yes to whatever woman is throwing signs at you but she may not be your type. Say yes to making memories and maybe falling in love.

 

 

 

Demez F. White  winter

We Had A Baby Last Night

“If I can’t eat, neither can you.” Those were the last slurry words she spoke to me before she fell asleep from the epidural she swore she would never get. That’s an entirely other story I’ll tell at a later date. We’d been at the hospital since 9:00am and the doctor told her not to eat anything. What should have been a routine check up turned into the doctor telling us to come straight to the maternity ward.

“You’re about to have a baby.” He said with excitement.

No bags were backed, we were in separate cars, both planning on heading to work. Now we were being told we were about to have a baby one week early when she wasn’t even dilated past three centimeters. After a couple hours of running around and making arrangements we were in the birthing room arguing about the pain medicine she swore she would never take.

“If I can’t eat, neither can you.”

I waited until she was good and knocked out before telling my mom I was going to get something to eat. The least I could do was wait until she couldn’t see me eating. Memorial Hermann in the Heights is a weird location. It’s close to a million restaurants but almost none of them are in walking distance.

Walking distance for New York maybe but not for Houston.

But right next door to this massive Hospital is a small Mexican restaurant. No flat screens or fancy tables. No granite counter tops or 12 dollar margaritas. Just cold Coronas in a big ice chest and tequilas I can’t name. Starving and needing to get back to the birth of my first son I ordered something quick and then something happened.

You know that thing that happens in the movies where the music gets dramatic and you know the story is about to take a dark turn. My mother’s name popped up on my caller ID. If you knew my mom you’d know one thing about her, she never asks me for anything. That means seeing her name meant I knew she wasn’t calling to ask me to bring her some food.

“Dr. Ahmed is here. There’s something the matter with the baby’s heartbeat, it’s dipping too low and they can’t wait for it to stabilize. They need to perform a C-section now! You need to get back here Demez.” Ten minutes ago we were laughing and anticipating my son coming at six in the morning. Now at 8:30pm they were telling me if they didn’t perform this emergency C-section he might not make it here. Throwing a twenty on the counter and running back to the hospital I stepped off the elevator and as soon as I walked into the room there were nurses and doctors everywhere prepping her.

The epidural was causing her to shake uncontrollably and the anesthesia was making her nauseas and sleepy. With her eyes barely open and squeezing my hand she asked me, “Do you remember your promise? If it’s between me and Lennox, choose him.” For months she’d been telling me this and for months I’d been telling her that nothing was going to happen. Now here we were with her having a bad reaction to the epidural she didn’t want to get and my son’s heartbeat dropping with every second.

“I remember what I promised you. I got you. I love you. Nothing is going to happen.”

My mom and sisters helped me put on my sterilization gear. I followed the doctors and nurses to the operating room. This is the part that literally shook me to my core. Up until this point I was sure everything was going to be alright but they put me in a waiting room that felt like purgatory.

I’m alone in this waiting room and there’s one bench and no one else can be in this room. The nurses tell me to wait and they’ll come back for me. I can see my family and her family on the other side of the door every time it opens begging me with their eyes for answers I don’t have. At this point I don’t have to be brave for anyone. Not for B, not for my family, not for her family. I’m alone and now I have nothing but my own fears. What if my son doesn’t make it onto this earth? What if his mother doesn’t? What if neither of them do? Closing my eyes and praying to God for what seemed like the first time in months all I asked is that they both make it out okay.

The operating room is cold and sterile and quiet. They walk me over to her and ask me to keep her calm, to make her laugh. I’m supposed to make her laugh when she’s terrified and shaking. Cool, let me do my Kevin Hart impression while his wife is delivering a baby. I tell her to remember our trips, to think about the first place we’ll take Lennox. I tell her to focus on me and to focus on what it will be like to hold him.

In the midst of me talking I hear the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

I hear Lennox Noire White crying. At 9:13pm on 6 August 2018 I hear my son crying for the first time. Cleaning him up, they place him in my arms since B is still being operated on. He’s 6 pounds 11 ounces and the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. A thick head of curly black hair, incredibly quiet for all he’s just put us thru and my world.

An hour later his mom is wheeled into the room on her bed and holds him for the first time.

That was my Monday.

That was the story of how I almost had a heart attack trying to say hello to my son.

I Can’t Wait To Teach You How To Be A Proud Black Man

Dear Lennox,

I Can’t Wait To Teach You How To Be A Proud Black Man

Since your mother walked into the kitchen on that January evening and told me about you I’ve been thinking of what I wanted for you, of how long I’ve been waiting on you to get here. This world, this world you’re about to be born into isn’t the kindest of places to little black boys that will grow up to be black men. We will do our best to protect you and shield you from that ugliness but that will be a time when we aren’t there. When you become aware of your skin tone, of the way you’re perceived.

It will be in that moment that you still hold your head up high, that you don’t respond with anger or violence or fear but respond with the confidence of knowing where you come from, who you come from and who you are.

Text books will tell you that slavery never existed.

Schools will tell you that the Civil War was over States Rights.

Teachers will want to silence you if you ask too many questions.

Slavery did exist.

The Civil War happened because they wanted to keep us in chains.

Ask all the questions you want and I will have your back.

I want you to grow up watching your mother laugh, watching us be affectionate. I want you to know that it’s cool to love a woman, to need a woman, that they are not easily replaced. I don’t want you to sexualize them before you even know what sex should be. I won’t tell you it’s cute when you grab a woman on her ass. I won’t smile when you sing words to songs you shouldn’t be listening to. I want you to understand that love is an amazing feeling and has nothing to do with your hormones.

I’ll never be your friend but I’ll always be someone that you can come to and talk to about any and everything. I won’t judge you or curse you out but I will tell you when you’re wrong. I will tell you when you have to live with the consequences of your actions. And then I’ll hug you, I’ll hug you because my father never hugged me and I grew up thinking that made me tough.

There’s nothing tough about hiding your emotions. Nothing tough about needing to cry, about wanting to cry but holding it in because you don’t want to be seen as weak. There’s nothing soft about hugging your mother or calling her when you’ve had a bad day. You won’t know what it feels like to have to do it on your own blindly. To have to search for answers. We will be here to give you the blueprint so that when you go into this world you won’t be blindsided the cruelty of it.

I’ve been a lot of places. Traveled and enjoyed their cultures, their food, their music but I’ve also collected books in each of these places. Books to teach you, books to make you want to explore the world one day. I read to you while you’re in there baking, I rub her stomach and tell you about the beaches of Belize. I kiss her belly and tell you about where Langston Hughes studied in Paris and where Eddie Murphy ate steak off a models back. I talk to you because I want you to know the sound of peace when you hear your father’s voice.

Your biggest responsibility as my son will be being yourself. I’d love for you to love reading and writing and boxing. But if you end up loving dance and painting, I’m going to support you.

The first time your mother heard your heartbeat on a monitor she cried. Not like one of those sweet teary eyed cries but an actual ugly cry. I didn’t cry, I didn’t shed a tear. I just closed my eyes and said a prayer that you make it into this world okay.

It’s A Good Day To Start Living Your Best Life

You’re unique.

Perfect in your own way.
There is no reason you shouldn’t be comfortable in your skin because God brought you to this moment, this place, this time for a purpose. All of the heartbreak, the disappointment, the moments where you wanted to slap someone or scream in the middle of a workday. That’s okay because that simply shows how strong your spirit is!

There are a lot of people that didn’t make it home last night, a lot of people that didn’t wake up this morning. Men diagnosed with cancer, women that lost babies in the second trimester. But If you’re up and reading this you made it another day.

So make today count! Make it count in your own way! You don’t owe it to anyone to be great, to be special, to be happy but yourself! Life will never be easy and I’m sure I’ve written that before, life isn’t meant to be easy!

I’m not the first man to say this and I won’t be the last but ‘We Are Not Meant To Be Alone!’

We aren’t meant to be sad.

This isn’t a morning note about religion or inspiration, this is a morning note about LIVING! About SMILING! About realizing that  everything may not be great but it’s better than most and for that we can be grateful!

Someone out there loves you, someone prays for you and wishes that they could have your strength! Someone out there wants to be your protection, sanity and bestfriend. Someone out there is waiting for you to apply for that job that doesn’t make your skin crawl when you go to work in the morning!

Believe what you want will happen because what you want and what you need walk hand in hand.

I believe what you want will happen if you’re willing to put in the work to get it! Nothing worth having is going to come easy, prayer is necessary, talking to friends and family to ease your mind is necessary! But more than all that, working hard and not quitting is what will get you there!

There’s no magic formula, be true to yourself and those that hold you down and watch good things happen!

Good Morning and smile today because God didn’t give you another day to be sad

Dreams Are Just Reality Waiting to Happen

My actual writing career started with Facebook notes. I would write them every morning before work. I literally mean every morning. I had this whole routine where I couldn’t sleep so I would just lie in bed and look at the TV on mute; then I would get up, go to my computer and write a story.

The first six or seven months no one really read them and I would tag people and talk about it but nothing and then something really cool happened. I was at work and my phone started to blow up and one of the stories I’d written was getting shared. Now I would wake up and write and people would look forward to my words.

I could literally see them sitting in traffic or at their desk, drinking their coffee or orange juice and reading my words, my words. I would live and die with every like, share and comment.

Those Facebook notes at the crack of dawn got me a book deal, a blog that does good numbers and changed my life. If I’m being honest I have no idea if I would be writing on the level I am if it wasn’t for that.

I didn’t take any literature or English classes. I still confuse sentence structure and tenses to this day. I never loved writing because I thought it would be cool to have my name on a book or it might get me cute shy girls. I loved writing because it always came so easy to me and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Don’t ever give up on your dreams.

Love Isn’t Always Being Strong Enough To Stay; Often Times It’s Being Strong Enough To Let Go

I’m not sure how old I was when I started to relate to love songs. Not understand what sex was or heartbreak was but I listened to the words and could literally relate them to my own relationships and situations. Love is universal, you can speak different languages and be from different religions and still understand what your heart is speaking.

If you’re at home or at work or hiding in the bathroom trying to get a break from the kids, I want you to imagine with me. Imagine where you would be right now if you didn’t let go of a love you thought was irreplaceable? Imagine if you didn’t find the strength to leave that guy that wasn’t affectionate enough, the woman that only called when she needed something. Imagine if God would have answered your prayers when you said you couldn’t live without him. Happy Endings aren’t always relationships prospering, sometimes the Happy Ending is you being able to walk away.

We live in this world now where technology has made everyone feel more closely connected when the truth is technology is often a barrier to the connections we so deeply seek. Twenty years ago if you hurt someone you love you called their house and when they didn’t answer you went to them. You talked or argued, you broke up or made up, but it was real. Now not answering the phone means text and tweets and Facebook post. Relationships that should have ended just thrive in limbo.

I believe I’m going to be an amazing writer not because I can create characters out of thin air. I believe I will be an amazing writer because I’m transparent like every great writer before me. You have to take off the mask and the filter and tell your story. The good, the bad, the ugly. It won’t always be flattering and romantic but it will be a story people can relate to.

It doesn’t make you weak to fight for someone you love when you don’t feel like they’re fighting as hard for you. It doesn’t make you a savage to tell someone that will give their last to you, “This isn’t working anymore.” We have become a generation that gets our advice from meme’s and actors that give us words we want to hear instead of getting advice from our hearts.

When the day comes that you feel more comfortable sharing your day with strangers or friends then with the person you’re with. Sit down and have a serious conversation with yourself. That’s not only loving the person you’re with but loving yourself enough to know, it’s time to let go.

Dear HBCU Presidents; Do Better!

trump blackDear HBCU’ Presidents,

Do Better!

There are very few institutions that represent what it means to be a black man or woman in America like the Historically Black College. It’s a place where kids had to go because schools like the University of Texas and Baylor wouldn’t accept them. Out of hate and bigotry rose Texas Southern University, Prairie View A&M University and countless other colleges throughout the south.

Colleges that gave young men and women pride, opportunity, a place to be amongst their own and thrive. Where has that pride gone? Why can it be found in twenty three year olds but not in the men and women that have risen the ranks to run these colleges?

Donald Trump is the President of the United States and we have to accept that but we don’t have to accept is his policies, his child like behavior and the unqualified and ill-intentioned people he has put into office.

Explain something to me because I am genuinely baffled. On February 28, 2017 over 80 Presidents of HBCU’s met with Trump and they were treated no better than tourist. Given a small speech, given a couple pictures and some lunch. No real conversation, no real change. A month later the Trump Administration questioned the need for HBCU’s and just this week word has come out that Trump wants to either defund or reduce funding for HBCU’s but you still want to reach out your hand to members of his administration?

I respect the work ethic of the generation that came before me but I cannot and will not respect men and women that are selling out the integrity of their schools for a check or photo op. Stop allowing people in high places to use you.

These young kids are not willing to sit back and accept it. You can’t charge them for degrees and make them work and struggle only to tell them that they have to do as you say or else.

A Day In Florida; A Day I Wont Forget

airportWe’ve all been at home watching the news and you see something unimaginable happen and what’s the first thing you think, “That’s horrible!” Even though in the back of your mind what you don’t want to admit to yourself is, “I’m happy it wasn’t someone I loved.” This doesn’t make you a bad person or an evil person, it makes you human. None of us want to pass an accident on the road and imagine it’s our child or woman or mother.

So today as I’m boarding my plane to Havana and buckling my seatbelt I look at my phone one last time before I put it in airplane mode and the CNN update says, “There has just been a shooting at the Ft. Lauderdale airport in Florida.” An airport I just left my girlfriend at, an airport my cousin works out of often. The flight from Miami to Cuba is 45 minutes and that was the longest 45 minutes of my life.

When I arrive in Cuba there’s no WIFI, no cable, they have their own cellular network, everyone speaks Spanish and I notice no-one is on their phone tweeting or texting or snapchatting. My mom tries to call me and the call drops, my girl tries to call me and the call drops, customs doesn’t want to let me leave Cuba because they’re wondering why I landed and stayed for three hours just to leave. What’s supposed to be this perfect vacation to start of 2017 has turned into this nightmare moving in slow motion. The not knowing killing me more than bullets ever could.

After a plane ride, a bus ride, a train ride and AT&T suspending my service for using my phone in Cuba I’m waiting at a train station in Miami. Half my luggage gone, lost or stolen and half my heart in the pit of my stomach. Who do I see pulling up to greet me, the two women that seem to always have it together but managed to scare me to death.

My phone now functional I get text after text, call after call, message after message. Telling me in the heart of the storm my reporter put aside her fear and told the world a story that needed to be told. In the blink of an eye she owned her courage and did her job.

Why Is My Generation Producing So Many Weak Men?

dwhiteI remember sitting in the garage as a kid and listening to my grandfather and our next door neighbor talk about everything from their wives to work. Men have always talked to each other and has conversations, gossiped but it was usually with each other. One man to another, not six or seven guys in a group chat.

I’m not going to sit on this computer and be that guy that’s mocking men for wearing skinny jeans and sweat pants that look like they belong to a 12 year old girl running track. Maybe that’s the style now and it’s a generational thing but I am going to condemn men for no longer wanting to be men.

This isn’t about being gay or straight or transsexual. That’s not what I mean by not wanting to be a man. I simply mean, we have too many guys out here that take more pleasure in taking selfies or arguing online than they do taking out the trash.

I’m sure women get messaged on social media all the time but ask most women when is the last time a man walked over to them, introduced himself. Started a conversation and was interesting and funny and at the end of that encounter, asked for a phone number or a date? It rarely happens anymore, guys would rather argue online about why women suck than actually pursue them. Comment on pictures and get mad when they don’t get a response. It’s not okay and it’s getting worse.

My father’s generation of men dropped the ball. I know too many men and women in their late 20’s to early 40’s that have no relationship or screwed up relationships with their father’s. Men that don’t know what it means to be strong because they never saw it. I know too many guys that have moved from their mothers house to their woman’s house and the only difference is they respect their mom.

It doesn’t make you weak because you don’t make the money your woman makes or because you’re going through a hard time. It makes you weak when you aren’t trying and when you’re too proud to accept help and it’s at the expense of your relationships well being.

You ever been siting on the couch watching a game and your women comes out the room and asks, “How do I look?” She does a little spin and smiles and you give her that look like, “You aren’t wearing that out this house or if I’m not with you.” She knows it’s not coming from insecurity or being controlling. The respect she has for you and your opinion makes her go in that room and change, she respects your strength, even if she feels like the dress isn’t that short or tight. She’ll do it for your peace of mind. When you’re a weak guy, you can’t make those types of request. Asking her to change, to cook when she’s tired, to come home early because you miss her. You can do that when she knows you hold her down.

How Much Is A Life Worth?

batonThis past week has opened up my eyes to what so many people see me as. When you get caught up in being in your bubble you tend to forget that there’s a world out there that will always see you as a nigger. In my 6 years of writing this blog, this may be my first time saying this word.

These past two weeks have opened my eyes to something I was ignorant too. No matter your education, your intelligence level. The way you speak or the way you dress, too certain segments of this population seeing a black face means the same.
The moment I walked into my doctor’s office and told them I had an accident the first question they asked me was, “What lawyer sent you?” Thought that was odd but okay. I go back a week later and tell them I need a refill on my prescription, they ask, “You sure you’re in pain?” Thought that was odd but okay. I tell them my job needs an update and I’m told, “We can make sure you’re off work for months if you don’t want to work. They’ll pay for it.” Now it’s not odd, now there’s no okay. I want my fingers to heal so I can write, I want my shoulder to not feel like it’s in a vice grip every time I sit down or lie down. These implications that I’m a scammer or junkie or don’t want to work are offensive. “But sir, we didn’t ummm…” You didn’t what? Realize that these dumb ass assumptions are either racist or ignorant?

We can tell these boys and men out here to speak better English. To present yourself better, to watch how you talk to people, hold your head down, don’t make them feel uncomfortable. Don’t ask questions, don’t put yourself in a position to be misunderstood and shot. What is it going to take for us to stop asking these questions? To stop going at each other and realize we need each other? Would it be easier if a man like me was shot? A guy with no criminal record and no questionable pictures, a guy that has hundreds of blogs and articles people can quote? Life is life and not everyone’s life comes in a pretty package but they still deserve that life if they haven’t done anything to lose it.