State of Emergency for Black Girls

Lately, I've become overly aware of little black girls between the ages of six to eleven years old. Little black girls with thick, short or long braids. Sometimes in their hair, they have a dozen rainbow colourful clips or multicolored beads, or tiny braids cane-rowed tightly into beautiful masterpieces. Their hair parted four million little ways with heavily greased scalps. They have thick beautiful lips, flat cute noses,and soulful big eyes. Their chocolate brown skin glistening, yet often they have forgotten to lotion ashy elbows or knees.
These little black girls remind me of myself. And I look for me in them... search to find myself. When our eyes meet I smile, if they smile back I often compliment them on their beautiful hair, or tell them what a pretty smile they have. Mostly they seem shocked that someone has even acknowledged them, much less dared to call them beautiful! And the darker their skin, and the thicker or shorter their hair, the more shocked they seem that someone has called them beautiful. They coyly look away and I know that they are questioning if I am indeed telling them the truth. Is it possible? Are they really beautiful?

In their various, shapes, sizes and shades that range from cinnamon brown to blue black, I loudly declare and express how beautiful they are. I tell them that they are beautiful because I vividly remember when I was their age how I wanted someone to call me pretty, or beautiful. How I ached for someone to just "see" me. How I wanted someone, anyone, to just notice me. That attention, if and when it came, was unwanted because it was from grown ass men who should have known better than to stare at my budding breasts. I wish that someone would have told them that there was no need to keep their lingering hands on the small of my back for so long. Their hugs seemed to crush my small body while their probing eyes left my nine year old self feeling naked and confused. No amount of baby fat could protect me from these men...
Yet I was eager to rush out of puberty to lay with men who whispered to me during unemotional, robotic sex how beautiful I was. In my own need to be desired, wanted and told that I was beautiful, I stayed in beds that were not safe spaces for me. I stayed in "relationships" that did not feed, or nurture me. Showed up more bruised and fragmented than whole, begging for someone to patch me back together -- who would do this without asking for my soul in return. Desperately, wanting someone to hold all my jagged edges in their hands, hold onto me even if i made them bleed? I was bleeding and needing to be loved.

Thus, I wish I could declare a state of emergency. Little black girls are in need of critical care! Our care! I often wonder why as womyn and especially black womyn, we cannot see that little black girls need our approval and our attention. Black fathers, do you tell your daughters that they are beautiful? If not, I will warn you without any doubt that another man is dying to whisper something in her ear. Our little black girls need to be praised, honoured and admired. They should be told daily that they are beautiful and if they are given those messages early and often enough they may start to believe it.

Because if you are told that you are beautiful, and if you are held with the up most care, I believe you may not be so eager to jump into bed with the first person who tells you that you are beautiful and that you are loved...
So that is why when I see little black girls I smile, look them deeply in their eyes. I want them to know that someone could love them. Love them unconditionally. Love them as they are. Love them safely. My wish for them is that they don't have to stand in front of a mirror longing and wishing for lighter skin, a straighter nose and smaller lips.
I want them to know that they don't have to have "good hair" in order to be valued. I want to hold all their jagged pieces in my hands, to let them know that they are beautiful and loved. I see you.... because i see me...

I love you. I love you fiercely because I am learning to love me and I sometimes ache to gently kiss your ashy elbows and knees.

trey anthony is an actor/comedian and the acclaimed writer of "'da Kink" TV show and hit theatrical play. trey is an established motivational speaker and the founder of Girl doing Better, a professional virtual, mobile, life coaching service for womyn, with a special focus on womyn of colour. For more info check out www.treyanthonystudios.com or to contact trey, please email trey@treyanthonystudios.com

Dear Misogynist....

Clearly I am not a fat ass
I am active brain
And lip smacking peach deep
Sometimes too aggressive in its honesty
And heart sweet
That loves wholly and completely
Whom it may choose
Whom ever it may choose

I am not gonna lie and pacify
I am arms to hold
I am lips to speak
I am a motherfreakin “G”

Strong legs that stroll off the 33 bus
Or out of a money green Phantom comfortably
Knees that bend to pray
Clean from Ajax washings
Hair that is thick and soft
Thighs that betwixt
An amazing all expense grand prize

I am eyes that sing
Smile that brightens
Touch that rings
And supplies euphoric release
I am a Grand Dame Queen Beast

I am warm
I am peace
From the roads of Botswana from 23rd Street
From the inside third eye
Ever watching this wicked wicked system of things
I do see

I am friend to pen
And a lover of strong women
A diamond to men
I am curious and interested like children
I welcome the wise to teach
Appreciator of my culture
Thick not just from bone dense and eat

I have a rhythm in my ways
And a practice in my seek
And yes, I do crave the rhythm of my space
With a man that rejoices in God’s Grace

With faith I do hear to listen
Two hands that fist
When forced pushes to shove
And your ego won’t submit

I am gifted
I am all of this
And indeed the shh

Clearly I am not just an ass

"Womanifesto " by Jill Scott

Justice for ALL?

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for ALL....

The United States of America...the land of the FREE...the land of HOPE...the land where the government is OF the people, FOR the people, & BY the people. Wow! How amazing is that!? Sounds like a government entity that presents equal opportunities for all and an equal harvest for EVERYONE if the labor is put forth right? Wait...WHICH persons are we talking about here because it seems as if the current actions and outlooks in the 21st century really aren't all that different from that of the 16th century. Yeah sure we have an African American president who by the way has received some of the most blatantly racist and disrespectful labels in the history of our government but still with that achievement we really should just accept it as a sign that African Americans have "arrived" right?  WRONG. America's CURRENT race relations is very much in a pathetic state of being.

Exhibit A~> The world lost a great boxing champion on November 7, 2011. The Undisputed Heavyweight Boxing Champion Joe Frazier was born in South Carolina in 1944 to a family of sharecroppers. He eventually moved to Philadelphia at the age of 15 in search of a life that didn't include the dark and degrading horrors many blacks experienced in the South. He eventually obtained a job working at a meat packing company. He strengthened his hands by punching large slabs of meat in the freezer....does this sound familiar? If not, it should. The movie "Rocky" portrays a character in Philly that does the very same thing except... he's not black. The movie portrays a underdog from Philadelphia who gets a chance to fight against the champion Apollo. Ironically Frazier earned his title from defeating The Champ...Muhammad Ali. This movie was developed two decades after "Smokin Joe" had already lived this life yet when you ask some Philadelphia natives who's the greatest boxer of all time, they will CONFIDENTLY say...Rocky Balboa. The antics go as far as building as statue in "Rocky Balboa's" honor since he is the greatest boxer to ever put Philadelphia on the map regarding that particular sport. When asked about possibly building a statue in honor of Joe Frazier, the answer given..."We already have a great heavyweight champion to represent Philadelphia". Wait...Don't they know that Rocky is a fictional character? The answer to this question is, OF COURSE. Some would argue that these antics are simply a gesture of imagination and hope...the great white hope. It seems as America would rather pay tribute to a fake white FICTIONAL character than to actually pay contributions towards a real life champion who just so happens to be black. Have we really arrived?

Please do not turn your head the other way regarding deceitful historical events are often passed on to our youth. I am a firm believer in being aware and actually researching everything instead of taking one's word for it. With that said, please don't hesitate to research everything said here. If the feeling hits you, CONTRIBUTE your information/comments and spread the word. Thanks for reading!

Happy Learning,

Nata Bee

Twisted Logic

The following question/statement was written by an African American male who genuinely holds this belief. Check it out:

Do you think the real reason why a woman stays with a physically/emotionally/verbally abusive man is out of guilt? Personally I don't think there is such a thing as verbal abuse.
 I mean, we all know that the more a man brings to the table, the more the woman will put up with. That being said, women that stay with a man even though he doesn't act right really don't do it out of love. They stay because deep down they feel guilty that they're really just using him for what he offers, and by flexing his muscle (so to speak) he's calling her "bluff". By staying, she affirms that indeed she isn't with him for him. To take it a step further, if this is true, and women will take whatever a man dishes out as long as he "dishes out", then doesn't that ultimately prove once and for all that women do indeed put a price on themselves and choose worldly things above all? She saw signs early but ignored them because he had what she wanted (whatever that was) so basically sold her soul to acquire it, thereby reaping what she sows.

The above statement is completely biased and obviously comes from a place of distorted perceptions and experiences. It is antagonistic and angry without any redeeming logic. Sadly, I believe that many whether secretly or openly tend to hold some of the unhealthy concepts listed to be somewhat true. It is my opinion that the residual mental chains of oppression has laid the foundation of this view towards women, particularly black women. We are automatically deemed as sexually deviant, lewd and striving to drain a man of his "wealth". Many are brainwashed into believing this twisted logic about black women.  


The belief that black women are sexually lewd & deceitful predates the institution of slavery in America. European travelers to Africa found semi nude natives. This semi nudity was misinterpreted as lewdness. White Europeans then locked into the belief that they were the "superior culture" of the 17th century. They viewed African polygamy and tribal dances as proof of the African's uncontrolled sexual lust. Europeans were fascinated by African sexuality. William Bosman described the Black women on the coast of Guinea as "fiery" and "warm" and "so much hotter than the men." William Smith described African women as "hot constitution'd Ladies" who "are continually contriving stratagems aka "tricks" or schemes on how to gain a lover.


Now that you've received a quick history lesson on origins of the twisted logic accepted by some, I will wrap this up by saying, As a person who has been on the receiving end of both physical and verbal abuse, I have learned that NOTHING warrants another person being the recipient of abuse. It is much more complex than what his limited way of thinking can express. It is true that some men/women may experience a form of guilt into staying with their abuser but this is not always the case & it is definitely not a case of "reaping what you sow" for being a "gold digger". Only a manipulator would actually try to push this logic off as truth. Abusers are often very insecure & need a false sense of security by displaying their LACK of power on someone or something that they feel they can control.


The purpose of this entry is to express and expose the obvious deceitful and lack of responsibility that many abusers take for their actions. It just may help someone who is in the midst of the madness. Adults are responsible for their own actions and temperament. It is never the victim's responsibility to "tiptoe" around their ego. Listen, there is nothing that you can do to appease an insecure and abusive individual. Insecurity only sees what it WANTS to see and nothing convinces it otherwise. Never let anyone tell you that "it's YOUR fault" for THEIR actions. If they can control themselves for the sake of being "good" in the "public eye" then they can control themselves in all aspects. Anytime you meet a person who refuses to take responsibility for their own actions, please run the other way. If it's always "someone else's fault", please leave that person alone. If they've exhibited this behavior and expressed this outlook to you regarding others in their life, please believe that you are next in line for that particular "role" in their play. I'd also like to talk about verbal abuse. An individual that is verbally/emotionally manipulative towards people that they interact with whether it is platonic or romantic, simply are not people that you should waste your time trying to "rehabilitate". It is simply an opinion of mine that the after effects of verbal/emotional abuse are far more worse than physical abuse. While both are equally devastating, an individual that survives physical abuse eventually heals on the outside but the bruises of verbal abuse stick around for years and the poison has the potential to seep out infecting others that the victim socializes with. It is very important that we are made aware and eventually experience genuine healing. Thanks for reading.


Happy Learning,


Nata Bee

An Accurate History of Thanksgiving's Origins

Thanksgiving: A Native American View

Thanksgiving: A Native American View

 By: Jacqueline Keeler

I celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving. This may surprise those people who wonder what Native Americans think of this official U.S. celebration of the survival of early arrivals in a European invasion that culminated in the death of 10 to 30 million native people. Thanksgiving to me has never been about Pilgrims. When I was six, my mother, a woman of the Dineh nation, told my sister and me not to sing “Land of the Pilgrim’s pride” in “America the Beautiful.” Our people, she said, had been here much longer and taken much better care of the land. We were to sing “Land of the Indian’s pride” instead. I was proud to sing the new lyrics in school, but I sang softly. It was enough for me to know the difference. At six, I felt I had learned something very important. As a child of a Native American family, you are part of a very select group of survivors, and I learned that my family possessed some “inside” knowledge of what really happened when those poor, tired masses came to our homes. When the Pilgrims came to Plymouth Rock, they were poor and hungry — half of them died within a few months from disease and hunger. When Squanto, a Wampanoag man, found them, they were in a pitiful state. He spoke English, having traveled to Europe, and took pity on them. Their English crops had failed. The native people fed them through the winter and taught them how to grow their food. These were not merely “friendly Indians.” They had already experienced European slave traders raiding their villages for a hundred years or so, and they were wary — but it was their way to give freely to those who had nothing. Among many of our peoples, showing that you can give without holding back is the way to earn respect. Among the Dakota, my father’s people, they say, when asked to give, “Are we not Dakota and alive?” It was believed that by giving there would be enough for all — the exact opposite of the system we live in now, which is based on selling, not giving. To the Pilgrims, and most English and European peoples, the Wampanoags were heathens, and of the Devil. They saw Squanto not as an equal but as an instrument of their God to help his chosen people, themselves. Since that initial sharing, Native American food has spread around the world. Nearly 70 percent of all crops grown today were originally cultivated by Native American peoples. I sometimes wonder what they ate in Europe before they met us. Spaghetti without tomatoes? Meat and potatoes without potatoes? And at the “first Thanksgiving” the Wampanoags provided most of the food — and signed a treaty granting Pilgrims the right to the land at Plymouth, the real reason for the first Thanksgiving. What did the Europeans give in return? Within 20 years European disease and treachery had decimated the Wampanoags. Most diseases then came from animals that Europeans had domesticated. Cowpox from cows led to smallpox, one of the great killers of our people, spread through gifts of blankets used by infected Europeans. Some estimate that diseases accounted for a death toll reaching 90 percent in some Native American communities. By 1623, Mather the elder, a Pilgrim leader, was giving thanks to his God for destroying the heathen savages to make way “for a better growth,” meaning his people. In stories told by the Dakota people, an evil person always keeps his or her heart in a secret place separate from the body. The hero must find that secret place and destroy the heart in order to stop the evil. I see, in the “First Thanksgiving” story, a hidden Pilgrim heart. The story of that heart is the real tale than needs to be told. What did it hold? Bigotry, hatred, greed, self-righteousness? We have seen the evil that it caused in the 350 years since. Genocide, environmental devastation, poverty, world wars, racism. Where is the hero who will destroy that heart of evil? I believe it must be each of us. Indeed, when I give thanks this Thursday and I cook my native food, I will be thinking of this hidden heart and how my ancestors survived the evil it caused. Because if we can survive, with our ability to share and to give intact, then the evil and the good will that met that Thanksgiving day in the land of the Wampanoag will have come full circle. And the healing can begin.

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While this very dark yet true account of the holiday's origins should in no way stop individuals from being thankful for their blessings which actually should be practiced everyday and not just when society ordains a certain day, people should really be informed and aware of the actual history to pass on this knowledge to their children and so forth. It is important that the "blinders" be removed from our eyes regarding the portrayal of various traditions & historical events.

Peace, Love, and Blessings

Nata Bee

The Life and Times of Sara Baartman: "The Hottentot Venus"

A Film by Zola Maseko

When 20 year old Sara Baartman got on a boat that was to take her from Cape Town to London in 1810, she could not have known that she would would never see her home again. Nor, as she stood on the deck and saw her homeland disappear behind her could she have known that she would become the icon of racial inferiority and black female sexuality for the next 100 years.

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF SARA BAARTMAN is the fascinating story of this Khoi Khoi woman who was taken from South Africa, and then exhibited as a freak across Britain. The image and idea of "The Hottentot Venus" swept through British popular culture. A court battle waged by abolitionists to free her from her exhibitors failed.

In 1814 she was taken to France, and became the object of scientific and medical research that formed the bedrock of European ideas about black female sexuality. She died the next year. But even after her death, Sara Baartman remained an object of imperialist scientific investigation. In the name of "Science", her sexual organs and brain were displayed in the Musee de l'Homme in Paris until as recently as 1985.

Using historical drawings, cartoons, legal documents, and interviews with noted cultural historians and anthropologists, THE LIFE AND TIMES OF SARA BAARTMAN deconstructs the social, political, scientific and philosophical assumptions which transformed one young African woman into a representation of savage sexuality and racial inferiority.

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The horrifying depiction of the above soul's journey truly speaks to my spirit. It stirs something inside of my spirit which has caused me to create this blog. It causes me to examine my own way of thinking as well as strive to educate others regarding the particular mindset displayed above. This story causes me to examine the close correlation between the action's and views displayed historically and the actions/views displayed today. What is the difference between what Sara endured & what many black women endure today whether it is via video, movie, or overall outlook? I don't see much of a difference outside of the fact that some may voluntarily expose themselves & place themselves in a position of being a sole source of sexual exploitation. Many will argue that there is a difference because of this notion but the question you should ask yourself is WHY do young women openly embrace this mindset as being OKAY? Why do some of our African American queens turn this degrading lifestyle and mindset into an expression of empowerment when in reality it is a source of humiliation? It has become a source of pride to show our backside and have men react and practice the same degrading antics that Ms. Baartman was exposed to. How many pictures do you see black women flaunting their body parts and giving the portrayal that it is the only thing that we have to offer when in reality we represent so much more? I've personally normalized and ingrained that it is ok to constantly pose in that manner without actually taking into consideration as to why I feel that it is ok to do that. It is time to take responsibility and take back my authority of my own body and portrayal of it.  It is not abnormal to find some of us using the same venacular that our former oppressors have dissrespected us with for years as a term of endearment towards each other. Why do some of our black men glorify the terms h*e, b***h, & s**t as a reference to black women whether it is lyrically or just an everday conversation and some of us readily accept that label as normal while even referring to each other in the same manner? We live in a culture that teaches women to find their value and self-worth in how many men find them sexy. The culture teaches that a woman's ultimate goal is to be a man's eye candy as well as a man's self worth and "arrival" being calculated in how many women he's slept with. Why is it ok and even celebrated to see black men blatantly disrespect black women?  These are the questions that we should ask ourselves. Many may say that other races have strippers,groupies,video dancers, and the such but to that I say while this may be true, there is a huge difference between our history, culture, and status. Our history contains the constant act of objectifying and exploiting Black women's physique by using it as some kind of 'side-show' freakish object to be put on display for the viewing pleasure of others. It is true that Ms. Baartman was not giving a choice into this degrading lifestyle during that time & today some CHOOSE to be put on display in this same manner but please keep in mind that there is a similarity that these two different times share & that is the financing and images that portray a black woman's sexuality aren't created by black women. Both times share the same bond of these images being created & controlled by others. While some women choose to be strippers,video models, groupies, etc.,they don't WRITE the roles. If we were truly given sole rights to writing and creating the image in these fields as we wish without the fear of backlash, would any of these occupations,roles, and scenes even exist or look the same? Ponder that for a moment. Feel free to give feedback & spread the message. Thanks for reading.

Peace, Love, & Blessings,

Nata Bee