The Blackest Side Podcast Housekeeping:
What I Wish White People Knew about My Life as a Black Disabled Activist still needs a production editor. A Black woman on Threads offered her help. I will review her previous material and make a final decision. I’d like to offer them anywhere between $300-600 for their time and effort. We are still collecting donations by using 202.384.7810 via Zelle, Venmo, and PayPal. I will also donate additional proceeds to a Black disabled person to meet their immediate needs (i.e. food, medications, energy and communications bills, etc.).
Thank you to those of you who have supported already. I got a beautiful surprise in a new gentle sponsorship last week. I’m overjoyed! (Listen, when I close my eyes to manifest goodness in whatever way the Universe designs it for me to receive — and return it — it knocks at my door so quickly because my cause is genuine.)
Tory and I are still holding strong and steady in Variety’s America’s Favorite Couple Contest: we have now advanced to the third round of group eliminations and are sitting in the second place. If you have Facebook, please take some time to vote for us every 24 hours. Or if you want to help advance the number of our votes, you can donate to the LA Food Bank and Oceana.
YOU ARE NOT OBLIGATED to DONATE to the CONTEST at ALL!
I am still learning to edit The Blackest Side Podcast so that it sounds crisp and eliminates unnecessary silences and content. This was supposed to be a MiniPod — an episode that is usually 25 minutes or less and more suitable for the chronic illness and disabled communities (or for those of us who just don’t want to hear a long ass podcast!) This episode is 40 minutes long without much editing. Please forgive me and know that — in the future — I will learn to edit with more clarity and quality. Thank you for your love and patience.
Takeaways (TL; DL — Too Long; Don’t Listen)
Sibling Estrangement is Complicated.
What makes it even more painfully so is when it affects other members of the family — especially when your sibling has children and you are not welcomed in their lives.
I love my brother. However, he and I have been estranged since 2019, though our relationship was complicated for many years before that. It has been fractured by codependency, disrespect, and verbal abuse.
Our estrangement has been painful. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him — hoping he’s in good health and enjoying his life. I experience moments of joy, where I feel myself smiling at memories sliding across the movie screen of my mind as I remember him as a little boy, rambunctious and clingy like little brothers usually are. He wasn’t there to support me during my Covid battle, didn’t walk me down the aisle at my wedding, nor did he celebrate my 40th birthday with me. I never thought he’d not be fully present in my life.
My brother is the father of the most beautiful little girl, Stanka Danka (or Choco Peach). She recently celebrated her fourth birthday. I have missed so much quality time with her. From not hearing any of her first words or seeing her climb monkey bars at the playground, I have not been permitted to see her. Ironically, the girl (me) who was so loved by her aunties and great aunties has been banned from being the coolest auntie to that little girl, who is getting taller by the second it seems.
Estrangement can also be a miraculous, timely gift. Since 2019, I haven’t had to walk on egg shells, pretending to be ok with manipulation and neediness, or feel the blunt force of repeatedly being called “disloyal.” I can simply be. And I like this life. I have been able to become the best version of myself by not feeling obligated to show up for he and my mother as the bigger and better person. (That shit is exhausting!)
So this year, after having a very hard talk with myself and finding freedom in Auntie Dee’s death, I decided that I would never again ask my brother to see Stanka. He clearly doesn’t approve of us having a relationship — and my peace of mind and her happiness mean more to me than begging and pleading to be in her life. I truly want Stanka to enjoy her life with her parents and other family. None of this is her fault. So instead of asking to visit her, I sent a treasure box I made her with a special gift inside she can open on her 25th birthday.
I would rather not see my niece than tolerate my brother in any capacity. As long as she is happy, then I must trust the Universe to allow she and I to connect without my control if it is meant to be.
I know she knows I love her: I tell the ethers and embers of goodness that travel from my heart to hers every single day.
Stanka, in case you read Auntie Chimeel’s (how she pronounces my name for now) writings one day: I love you so much that it makes my heart swell.
(Lord, I’m crying —again.)
If you or someone you love is experiencing sibling or familial estrangement, please read Brothers, Sisters, Strangers: Sibling Estrangement and the Road to Reconciliation by Fern Schumer Chapman.
Chaos Will Ensue if the Federal Government Revoke Funding and Programs that Promote Children’s Right to Eat in School.
Every child in America deserves access to healthy and nutritional meals in our schools. As a former middle school teacher — and forever educator — I know firsthand how children thrive in classrooms when they are fed properly and in a timely manner. I also have experienced the heartbreak and disruption of our babies who often go hungry.
Children are no different than adults: when they are not fed, their brains and bodies are thrown into metabolic confusion. Without food, brains become foggy, thoughts unclear, and bodies go on a vicious scavenger hunt to find energy from anywhere. We become moody, distant, and easily rattled by the slightest thing.
As adults, we usually understand that food is a physiological need. We have to have it. Children, however, only know if food is available or not. And as growing humans, they are happiest and safest when they eat at home and school.
I grew up many days with an empty fridge and pantry. This hits home for me.
The One Big Beautiful Bill Act (OBBBA) that was recently passed, has implications for each and every one of us. While it may not directly affect students who rely on school food, it will most certainly trigger a domino effect — by stripping away other federal services — that may have our babies starving when they should be learning and leading. According to the School Nutrition Association, breakfast and lunch will become a thing of the past if:
SNAP (food stamps) benefits are reduced or applicants (parents or guardians) become ineligible;
school budgets are cut; and
staff cuts hinder students’ ability to have completed federal attendance and lunch application submitted back to school leadership.
Students thrive in school when they are fed: they actually attend school, arrive to class on time, offer insightful ideas and leadership, and contribute to the overall positive atmosphere of classroom community. This also happens when the food is nutritional and tasty.
I fed students every day while I taught at a public school in Baltimore. Whether it was buying food from Walmart, giving students money for snacks or McDonald’s, or fundraising with other staff to make breakfast and lunch for students during standardized testing weeks. My cabinet held chips, chocolate, and other treats I could give to students who came by my classroom because they needed something to eat.
I spent more than 20% of my income to feed students and provide school supplies. And please know that no tax credit ever recouped what I spent. I regret not one thing.
Additionally, we also take advantage of poor students who don’t want school breakfast and lunch — because it is not always the most esthetically pleasing or tastiest — by spending important federal funds on creating school stores to force students to spend money on junk food and snacks. Students who live under the poverty line usually don’t have on average $5 daily to buy these products. Why are we asking them to do what the government — compromised of adults — should be doing without a second thought? This is utterly disgusting.
To the government who chooses capitalism over children eating, I ask: would you rather hear a jackhammer all day outside your office as construction workers build new homes or stores we don’t need or the sound of the hum of children’s stomachs growling while they’re silently reading in groups?
What you can do to support our school babies so they can eat?
Example:
Tanya, Chad, Lily, Shenikah, and James are friends who live close to a public school in Lovingville, New York. Tanya has a child who goes to the school and James’ nephew does, too. Chad serves as a mentor every Monday and Wednesday at the school. They are all worried because the OBBBA is threatening to cut programs that will inevitably reduce breakfast and lunch in schools during the 2025-26 school year.
In a group text, they all decide to band together to donate items for about 10-20 student lunches for two weeks.
Each of them will purchase one of the following items: bread with mayo and mustard, cheese and deli chicken or turkey, chips and/or crackers, and reduced sugar or sugar-free juice. One of them will make the sandwiches, pack the snack bags, and make sure that students who live in their neighborhood have lunch.
The important part is this can be repeatedly executed for public school students, school supplies, neighbors, the elderly and disabled, former coworkers who have recently lost their jobs, our Latino families, and the homeless. While everything is more expensive now, if we all were to take up a mantle to support others, we can assure that community needs are met. We do not need to wait for the government to give us permission to do this.
Ta-daaaaaaa!
BREAKING: As I type this, I just learned that The Cosby Show actor and Gordon Gartrell-model extraordinaire, Malcolm Jamal Warner, has passed away.
God…
oh, Brother Theo.
Joining the heartbroken collective as I sit here silently recalling that yellow Gordon Gartrell shirt that gave me the giggles when I was 5 or 6.
tears chase each other. down the hill. water can be so welcoming and yet so cruel. climate issues. tall waves. took our hero. oh, Brother Theo.
This is hollow. I can hear the unison of Black folks - no matter their ethnicity or the membership in whatever diaspora - take a big breath followed by a groaning sigh of disbelief.
today, we hate water. through it, we yank off of our curiosity to explore what we love and can see so clear. "can't you see it: it's so beautiful here." nah, it ain't but we thank god that everything goes in a circle — even water, the kind that returns us to the land in which we belong.
monopoly money. cool bookbags. the dive fade. rattails. that goofy smile. ray charles in the nighttime. delivering that food baby. cockroach. talks with that man who we spray-painted on as our perfect father. the only boy. that earring. classrooms with kids who talked back. making a difference. reciting play lines. getting too familiar with that "flammmmmmeeee...so be it." lessons learned. love lost...
"JUSTINE! JUSTINE!" if you can't recall when we pierced our eyes to tvs on Thursday nights on NBC to follow black faces of folks who became OURS, then you won't know what I mean.
Theo. Theo. Theo. oh, Brother Theo. Our Resident Hero. oh, Brother Theo.
We love you, Malcolm Jamal Warner. You were one of them ones who grew up and showed out. Brilliant. Fine. Articulate. Child star doesn't even properly hold who you are. You didn’t even ask that we call you a star.
Thank you for reminding us that being wrong, awkward, funny, cool, goofy, and curious is just a part of growing up. Your soul is well-received and we surround you with ovations across every land. Amen, Somebody.
Love Y’all,
Chimére but You Can Call Me Chimmy
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