No Honkies Until Cars Came

White people have been white a long, long, loooonggg time. While black people, we have been evolving. Shanequa just arrived. Those of us who remember the book Roots by Alex Haley, do remember the young boy named Kunta Kinte who refused to be called Toby. It took the removal of his foot with a hatchet to convince him of his new name.

What should we be called? Nigra, negro, negress, ni**er, black, colored, brown skinned, high yellow, quadroon, octaroon, African, mullato, jigaboo, darkie, mixed breed are amongst the choices. Then there was always ‘BOY!” We have been recently elevated to African American. It took us almost 400 years to be considered American and there is still the struggle.

I grew up being called these names or at least hearing my relatives friends and neighbors called these names. We have had an identity crisis because we never knew what would society call us.

White people have been white a long, long, long time. There was no official term ‘honky, or cracker’. Those were completely pejorative words. No one ever had to put those names on an official document. There were no honkies before there were cars. More about that later.

Except for the what is now a dreaded ‘N’ word (only dreaded when socially convenient), the others mentioned were all fair game when applying for a job, a license, a voter ID or birth certificate.

It is impossible for white people to understand being anything other than white. Oh yes they may be European or the like…, but they are still white.

When the white immigrant or indentured servant such as the Irish, or Italian would escape from their captors they could hide in the woods and emerge on the other side as German or British. Of course they had to hide their accent or feign ignorance. But Africans did not have that as an option. They would go into hiding and emerge as still a person of darker hue than anyone else around them. Should their pursuers decide to do so, they would not have to recognize the Manumission papers they carried (freedom papers), and could return them to their owners or the highest bidder.

The name honky has it’s origin with the arrival of automobiles. There were no honkies before there were cars. White men could cruise black towns, neighborhoods or farms to fulfill their libidos and lust. In the event that they found what they wanted, they would honk their horns. A black child for instance could look out the window of his family’s shack and announce; ‘the honkey is here’. At that point the woman, his mother, sister, auntie or grandmother, was obligated to go out and fulfill her duty. The man of the home had no option but to let it happen. Cracker of course was derived from the sound of the whip that would crack upon the back of the men, women and children enslaved.

The desire for an ethnic identity has not been something to trouble them. One drop of African blood put you in one of these multiple mixed-race categories.

We had to accept names, not pick them. We did not have the luxury of choosing.

So when a black man was given a name by his master, his only responses could be ‘yes sir, or no sir’.

In the 1950’s and 60’s, we were told to throw off our slave names and take on African names.

Back in the Jim Crow and civil rights era, black men would refuse to take on first names because they were tired of being called by their first names, while they had to address white men by their last names. So you had a lot of TJ’s and JW’s instead of Tommy Joes and Johnny Williams born in that era. We were tired of having our names chosen then abused.

We knew little about Africa except for the emerging leaders, most of whom were murdered or exiled when they stood up against colonial powers. So we started to invent names. Hence, Takeesha was born along with Moneesha.

When we got the luxury to chose, we did . After all, who is Shaniqua? Where did Daquan come from?

We have been a lot of things in America. Talk about confusion.

White has always been white. They have been white for a long time Shanequa just arrived

Buy One Get Ten Free

It seemed like a good deal when I first heard it. Then she repeated it. It sounded even better the second time around and especially when a pretty woman says it. I didn’t need the first one but having ten more for free, well who could refuse that offer?

The sales pitch is straightforward and legal. It is even socially acceptable. Again, however, the problem is I don’t need the first one. Somehow it just seems right to go ahead and buy it.

Such is the way of making decisions based upon the desire to gratify appetites for hungers that never really existed. Somehow I have allowed the world to set my agenda, define my pleasures and offer solutions to problems I didn’t know I even have.

The best thing about this offer of buying one and getting ten free is that I get a lifetime supply of things I don’t need just as long as I will let this woman come in and sell me just one more.

Proverbs 5:9-14 (The Message) You don’t want to squander your wonderful life, to waste your precious life among the hardhearted. Why should you allow strangers to take advantage of you? Why be exploited by those who care nothing for you? You don’t want to end your life full of regrets, nothing but sin and bones, Saying, “Oh, why didn’t I do what they told me? Why did I reject a disciplined life? Why didn’t I listen to my mentors, or take my teachers seriously? My life is ruined! I haven’t one blessed thing to show for my life!” Never Take Love for Granted. Do you know the saying, “Drink from your own rain barrel, draw water from your own spring-fed well”? It’s true. Otherwise, you may one day come home and find your barrel empty and your well polluted.

17 Your spring water is for you and you only, not to be passed around among strangers.

18 Bless your fresh-flowing fountain! Enjoy the wife you married as a young man!

19 Lovely as an angel, beautiful as a rose – don’t ever quit taking delight in her body. Never take her love for granted!

20 Why would you trade enduring intimacies for cheap thrills with a whore? for dalliance with a promiscuous stranger?

21 Mark well that God doesn’t miss a move you make; he’s aware of every step you take.

22 The shadow of your sin will overtake you; you’ll find yourself stumbling all over yourself in the dark.

Tired of Tears

The Case for Buying Guns

It hurts to sleep and I am tired of the tears. Do you hear me Dr. Johnson? I am tired of the tears.

She repeated this mantra as though it would actually sink in deeper and I could understand her better. It was useless to do so. I am more distant from her world than if I still lived in Kenya. The fact that I attend church in her neighborhood and that our clinic is within walking distance from her front door does not make me empathetic or even sympathetic. She is from a distant planet, another galaxy and dimension. Hers is a world of violent loss of loved ones. My world is one that expects the good guys to do good and the bad guys to rot in jail or die.

She goes on. She tells me; I avoid going to bed. I am afraid that if I don’t remember his death and dying, I am guilty of depriving him of life. And this is in spite of the fact that I am his mother. I am tired of the tears of remorse, regret and remembering that I should never have had that gun in the house.

It was my grandmother’s gun and I kept it just in case someone broke into the house to steal or to hurt one of us. I never thought Bobby would take it and do something stupid. It is unfair for a mother to lose two sons. One in prison for life and the other in the ground for eternity for killing his brother. I am tired of tears.

When we first introduced our gun buy-back program to our supporters we had a tremendous negative response from people like us who lived in yet another dimension. They live in a dimension that the law is always on their side and justice always prevails. Our gun buy-back failed. We were dismissed as having no compassion for victims or hostile to the peace-keepers.

Now we are over three years since the introduction of this project and there are still so few people who are tired of tears. There is no question that people are crying. The daily reports of mass murders, random shootings and suicides lull the calloused to sleep and make the weary weep because yet again there is a gun still for which no one has accounted.

Who has that gun? Is it my son? Is it my brother? Is it a complete stranger? Or did Dr. Johnson succeed in buying that one gun? I hope and pray he did. I am tired of the tears.

To date we have had a poor response to this appeal. We are launching an initiative in conjunction with the city of Philadelphia and the South Philadelphia church community to get the guns out of closets, shoe boxes and from under beds and bottom dresser drawers. It is these guns that are used for revenge killings by gangs, drive by murders, hold-ups, robberies, to prove a point or pay a bill or even kill the very people charged with protecting our community.

Are you tired of the tears? Help us buy guns.

When New Normal Hurts

When Good Does Bad

I was told I should feel good about it. He touched me. He groaned, then grinned with excitement. I knew I was supposed to feel bad, but he told me I should feel good. So I complied. I tried to feel good. I was aroused at the same time I was being sexually abused. After all he said that he loved me and this was a natural expression of his love. So he touched, rubbed, grinned and groaned some more with excitement until what should have felt bad, felt good. I was abused as a child. I suffered the helpless embarrassment of being defiled. I told no one about it. Until now Dr. Johnson when I am telling you.

This is the story I heard from one of our patients recently. He is now living with and married to a man who is thirty years his senior. This man has been with several other men before. On occasion, he has also tried women.

This man, his marital partner has just been released from prison for sexually abusing children.

This man, his spouse, is also one of our clients better designated, our patients. He has hepatitis B and C. He is HIV positive. Both of their lives are at risk for a multitude of illnesses which are sexually transmitted. The tough part is, it began with what is normal and good now hurts and goes bad.

Statistically we are witnessing a worldwide epidemic of sexually transmitted diseases. Just looking within our own borders, the new normal is hurting us. According to CDC these are the frightening statistics.

1. Sexually Transmitted Diseases (STDs) have been rising among gay and bisexual men, with increases in syphilis being seen across the country.

2. In 2014, gay, bisexual, and other men who have sex with men accounted for 83% of primary and secondary syphilis cases where sex of sex partner was known in the United States.

3. Gay, bisexual, and other men who have sex with men often get other STDs, including chlamydia and gonorrhea infections.

4. HPV (Human papillomavirus), the most common STD in the United States, is also a concern for gay, bisexual, and other men who have sex with men.

5. Some types of HPV can cause genital and anal warts and some can lead to the development of anal and oral cancers.

6. Gay, bisexual, and other men who have sex with men are 17 times more likely to get anal cancer than heterosexual men. Men who are HIV-positive are even more likely than those who do not have HIV to get anal cancer.

Being on the right side politically and socially should be a good thing. We want to protect the civil and social rights of the oppressed and exploited. We want to acknowledge our past evils in order to confess what is wrong and profess what should be right. It is good. Unless of course that good does bad.

When can we start saying that being good is actually bad? When can we say that being normal is painful and costly individually and as a society. They are hurting. The incidence of drug abuse within this community surpasses that of the ‘old normal and old good.’

Although data on the rates of substance abuse in gay and transgender populations are sparse, it is estimated that between 20 percent to 30 percent of gay and transgender people abuse substances, compared to about 9 percent of the general population.

https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/lgbt/report/2012/03/09/11228/why-the-gay-and-transgender-population-experiences-higher-rates-of-substance-use/

We have not yet begun to count the health care costs of doing good or being normal. The economic burden is real. This freedom of sexual expression, to be whatever I want to be does have economic costs. We all pay it.

The total estimated burden of the nine million new cases of these STDs that occurred among 15-24-year-olds in 2000 was $6.5 billion (in year 2000 dollars). Viral STDs accounted for 94% of the total burden ($6.2 billion), and nonviral STDs accounted for 6% of the total burden ($0.4 billion). HIV and HPV were by far the most costly STDs in terms of total estimated direct medical costs, accounting for 90% of the total burden ($5.9 billion). The large number of infections acquired by persons aged 15-24 and the high cost per case of viral STDs, particularly HIV, create a substantial economic burden.

https://www.guttmacher.org/about/journals/psrh/2004/estimated-direct-medical-cost-sexually-transmitted-diseases-among-american Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health, 2004, 36(1):11-19

So when he or she tells me it feels good and therefore is good and natural I have a decision to make. Do I join the chorus that is redefining sexual and marital relations, or do I advocate for a return to the mandate that Jesus the Christ stated in the New Testament as He quoted the Old Testament?

Genesis 2:24 English Standard Version (ESV)
24 Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.

Matthew 19:4-5
And He answered and said, “Have you not read that He who created them from the beginning MADE THEM MALE AND FEMALE, and said, ‘FOR THIS REASON A MAN SHALL LEAVE HIS FATHER AND MOTHER AND BE JOINED TO HIS WIFE, AND THE TWO SHALL BECOME ONE FLESH ‘?

This new normal, this being good is costing us more than we can begin to imagine. This new normal hurts.

The Next President

Not one of us really knows who the next President of the United States of America will be. That question is debated every minute of every day. People are being paid to lose sleep over this issue. But there is one issue that remains without doubt. That is; Who remains the King of kings.

It is a calming assurance that those of us who know this King find peace and comfort. There is no need to debate, argue, register or line up to vote. The Winner was declared from eternity. We mark this event every time we write the day of the week, and month of the year. We designate the King this year by writing 2016, and next year…, if He does not return before then as we would write, 2017. All calendars around the world acknowledge Him as King.

Every knee bows to this King. So don’t worry about who might have to answer the red phone in the middle of the night, or have a finger on the nuclear button in the brief case buckled to the right arm.

God would never allow all of His creation to be held at the whim of His creatures. Vote for sure for the next President to rule the country. But choose Jesus always to reign in your hearts. The everlasting King of kings.

Philippians 2:10-11
That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;

And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. King James Version (KJV)

Belching and Blessing

There is a difference

Bless the Lord, oh my soul…, and all that is within me. Psalm 103:1 KJV

I belched. Then I prayed. I asked the Lord’s blessing on the food I had already consumed. Is that a correct application of this Psalm?

We live in a culture and time when we thank God only when things are going our way. We don’t know how to thank God and we don’t have a clue how to praise Him for suffering.

Suffering is for wrong doers. Suffering means, we have somehow not worked hard enough, prayed hard enough, or had enough faith. Suffering is for losers. Suffering is for sinners and lazy people. The poor are poor because they have not worked hard enough.

If they were only hard working and deserving like me. Buuurrrppp! I am sorry. As I was saying, God has really blessed me. It is clear that He loves everyone, but He really likes me more and the evidence is clear because I have a big house, a pretty wife, healthy children and even a house trained pedigree dog.

Buuurrrppp!! Excuse me. As I was saying. God is good, isn’t He?

Job’s friends felt the same way as they watched his wealth melt away. Bildad one of his best friends said this to Job.

Job 8:6 If you were pure and upright, surely now He would rouse Himself on your behalf, and He would prosper your righteous dwelling. (Modern English Version)

God is not impressed with our belching and burping. If we want to praise Him we must learn to do so not because of the abundance of what He allows us to steward. We own nothing. We are stewards. We are merely temporary guardians of wealth that passes through our hands and once we die, someone else becomes the steward.

Stop the belching. Start the blessing. There is a difference. Buuurrrppp! I am sorry. Did I do that again. Excuse me!

Philippians 4:11 And I am not saying this because I feel neglected, for I have learned to be satisfied with what I have. (Good News Translation)

Traditional American Values

The Original American Sin

Poll: Nearly 4 in 10 Trump SC supporters wish South won Civil War

http://thehill.com/blogs/ballot-box/269510-poll-38-percent-of-sc-trump-supporters-wish-south-had-won-the-civil-war

I am amazed when people weep nostalgic and long for the good old days. To quote the late comedienne Moms Mabley; “What good old days? I was here, where was they at!?”

Moms was born in the latter part of the 19th century just 25 years after the Civil War came to a close. As a result of that war, it became illegal to own men and women as slaves but it was still considered within societal norms to rape, beat, lynch, and humiliate men and women of African descent.

That normality continued throughout my childhood as I personally learned to fear crowds of white men in Chicago. Too often we happened to infringe on what they believed was their personal public spaces at the beach, YMCA, and suburban Chicago restaurants or hotels. We were chased, and humiliated and spat upon.

Even now as I visit the formerly Confederate states of the south, I cringe and look over my shoulder when going in to large crowds of white people. It is not that I fear what might happen. I remember what did happen to me growing up in Chicago. I remember running from white boys who were spitting on me and calling me…, “N”, well you know what I mean. I never trusted the police. I learned and saw firsthand the brutality of the protectors who were really predators.

I remember the pictures of what happened to my kinsmen and women as it was filmed on television, reported in newspapers, magazines and radios.

American was not built on free enterprise. It was built on slavery. The wealth of this nation came from almost 400 years of free labor. The north had the banks and ships, and the south had the cotton and the slaves.

When it comes to wanting to relive “Traditional American Values” history tells me what that would really look like.

1. Kill the Indian (native Americans, or whatever they called themselves before being slaughtered).

2. Exploit the Chinese (along with anyone else who had skin, eyes and hair of other than European hue).

3. Enslave the Africans (and use their women to make new slaves by raping them and dehumanizing the men).

4. Humiliate the Mexican (manipulate and suppress the people of such descent and make them work like slaves, since we have run out of slaves).

Most Americans are repulsed with the pictures of their fellow citizens who are killed by the men and women who are charged with protecting them. However, those within these communities see this as normal part of their everyday lives. I really don’t want Traditional American Values. These values really are the original American sin.

The Voices

‘You can see her in this room Dr. Johnson’. The caretaker of the woman’s shelter was glad that I had come to examine some of her residents. She then politely escorted Felicia and me away from the crowded gathering of the others and into a small side room. ‘You will be able to hear them from here but they won’t be able to hear you talk with Felicia. All of them were really anxious to see the doctor. There just was not enough time to interview and examine them all that day.

Once we were alone, Felicia stood before me her arms shaking like the limbs on a tree caught in a violent wind. She paced in place like a sprinter getting ready for a race. Then she opened up. ‘All I want is to stop the voices. I have not had enough of my medicines since I was released from prison 2 weeks ago. They only gave me just enough medicine till I could see a doctor. I don’t have insurance and I don’t know any doctor. I have been afraid of using all of my medicine because I did not want to run short. So I only use it when I hear the voices. They are beginning to whisper now.’

In order to keep the voices at bay Felicia had devised a plan to make her medications last a long time. She was desperate and knew a psychotic break would happen if not medicated soon. The scenarios for using prescription drugs is as varied and confusing as the stories of the almost 2 dozen or so women in the room we left behind.

I am no psychiatrist or psychologist. But I do know something about compliance when it comes to taking medicines. I never advise a diabetic to take medicine when nearing diabetic coma, or a hypertensive patient to wait for onset of stroke to do likewise. I know that waiting to hear voices is not optimal therapy.

The setting is a ‘half-way’ house for women. They reside here as they transition from jail, or prison. Some of them are escaping violence in their homes, or avoiding life on the streets selling their bodies for food and shelter. This place is safe. Here, they can find consistent comfort of blankets, caring providers and for today, a doctor visit.

My duties as a physician at Miriam Medical Clinic, have brought me face to face with this reality. One woman (transgender) wants to know if we can provide hormone replacement therapy so that she (he) can continue comfortably uninterrupted in this new mode of life. Another woman wants to know if we can treat her hepatitis C, and at the same time check for warts in discrete places.

I have studied and managed illnesses and diseases for a long time. However, providing health care for prostitutes and drug addicts is new to me. And then of course there are the people who have been recently released from incarceration and cannot afford their medications. Medications which if they could afford them, would slow their organ failure, prevent the infections, clear the skin rash, elevate their mood, and of course stop the voices.

This takes a team approach. I asked Kay who is the clinic administrator, to pursue getting a release of medical records from Felicia’s most recent emergency room visit. Then I review the records and discuss the medication regimen with Dr. Pitts our clinic director and clinical pharmacologist. Together, we consult his wife Pat, who is a practicing psychiatric nurse. She helps us formulate a plan that can readily renew the prescriptions.

It’s all rather complicated, but for Felicia the voices have been stopped.

My Enemies’ Peace

Lord give my enemies peace
Let their smiles and laughter increase
May they know increasing strength
To their life days add great length
May their joy and comfort never cease

Lord use their wealth as distraction
Let them know only sweet satisfaction
So that when I come to mind
They only have energy and time
To pursue peace as the right course of action

“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you
Luke 6:25

But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.
Luke 6:35

He Never Blinks

He Never Winks
He Winces

I have fooled a lot of people with my appearance of a clean life. Now you may ask, ‘what secret sin could I possibly have?’ Someone with more discerning eyes is watching me and knows the truth.

Our Father in heaven never blinks. He never misses what is happening. He is all seeing and all knowing.

He never winks. He never dismisses the evil I do as white lies, bad habits, simple mistakes.

But He does wince. My sin causes my Father pain.

My sin nailed His only Son to the cross. That was painful.

He felt each lash of the whip, every thorn in the brow, the beat of the hammer pushing in the nails and the coup de’ grace, the spear in His side.

He did more than wince. He cried out: My God My God, why have you forsaken me? Matthew 27:46

He sees it all. The sins done in secret and those I do amongst a select group of approving, admiring, or understanding people. The politically correct, socially approving, polite crowd say I can fit in, just don’t say sin.

God is not blind, unmoved, or unaware of my sin. He winces in pain as I openly disregard His call for holiness.

Psalm 19:12 Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.

Psalm 51: 4 Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight; so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge.