Identity

And I am Black and woman.

Daughter and Mother.

Friend and lover.

The fierce quip and the quiet consolation.

Life flowing into and pushing out of me.

I stand sometimes wondering what will become of...

Me.

I spend a lot of time thinking about what it means to be the current version of me.  I evaluate and re-evaluate whether I'm being productive.  Sleeping in makes me feel slothful, but some days I feel like I have little to look forward to, that thought closely followed by guilt over not greeting each new day as a privilege to spend with the lovely ALJ.  (I do realize how blessed I am to have a child to cherish, and cherish her I do, daily, even when the day starts rough or lags on long).  

I think back to a class on work and occupations, think back to a women's studies course, to a conversation with the director of the women's center at NU.  The same attitudes, guilt, pressure to couple, procreate, and "tend to.." (the spouse, the children, the house, etc.) exist (in spite of feminism, supportive partners, and college degrees).  Why?

I think back to an African American Studies class.  Question posed: Are college educated Black women unnecessarily buying into a middle class illusion based on the lives of White Americans from a different era?  Hmmm, am I striving for a level of "womanhood" denied my ancestors?  Not sure, sometimes I see evidence for the argument, sometimes I don't.

I have a plan I suppose, I guess now I just need the patience to see it through.  The patience and the discipline to utilize the time before I re-enter school or the workforce to meet some personal goals and set a good foundation for ALJ's development.  One day my blog may have a focus other than motherhood.... one day (maybe:-P).