A Tribute

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. We had a blast. The best part was the steak, lobster, and shrimp!

We're clicking and vibing more than usual lately (as in the last 6 months). Probably because he's being a lot more responsible than usual, and probably because I've been reading so many articles lately about the state of black men in this country right now that I feel especially blessed to have at least a sane black man. I don't know how he does it. He's more engaged in his life right now than ever, despite the fact that it seems life just keeps getting tougher. I am amazed by his growth and proud to still be married to him despite how many times I've said I'd rather not be. He's smarter than most people realize, more beautiful than any other man I know, and makes me laugh more than anyone else has ever been able to.

God I love this man.

Show and Tell: Gratitude

This is my first time participating in Mel's Show and Tell. I read hundreds of blogs... only half of which are in my google reader, but Mel's is one of them. I've been wanting to participate in some blogging activities that will help me increase my posting. By participating in things like this and Rebirth Nurse's blog carnival, I should be soon back into the swing of regular posting, but no promises. I will probably alternate Show and Tell with Wordless Wednesdays.

For those visiting my place for the first time, wondering what I mean by "back to regular posting" while looking quizzically at my near empty blog archive (lol) you should know that I had two semi-successful blogs before this one. I started my blogging back in 2006 as minoritynursingstudent, then in 2007 I moved up to minoritymidwiferystudent, and now, 2 months post graduation, I moved up to minoritymidwife. Welcome!

I've also been wanting to broaden my blog topics, while still staying within the realm of women's health care, especially that of black women. But right now, I whine a lot about not being to find a job, and other random stuff. Actually, I've been whining all month...

So for my first show and tell, I'm showing:

I took this photo on a beach on the east coast last year at the very end of summer. The man and I had went for our last beach day of the season and stayed until sunset for the first time. It was a really beautiful night out. I'm glad we stayed to see it. I'm grateful for him.

Although we don't have much money, we do have food, shelter, and the occasional dollar for something a lil extra.

Although we don't have health insurance, we do have our health.

And we are grateful.

Here's what other folks are showing and telling.

Rambling

It’s starting to get to me... joblessness & rejection. I’m at the point where I don’t even like applying for jobs, because I never hear back from any of them anyway. I should say, I have heard back from the recruiter for one job (in another city, many, many miles from here), but since that hour long! conversation wherein he said he would forward my information along with his positive recommendation to the head midwife, nothing has happened. I am supposed to contact him by Friday if I don’t hear from her. When he first called me, he said “wow, your whole class is applying! We already hired one of you!” Sigh. He said there are other openings, but he doesn’t think they want to hire another new grad. He expressed much excitement that I’m black. Yes, really. We talked about the lack of minority midwives and providers, and it was interesting. Sometimes I leave identifying information on my CV (ie: title of thesis, student organizations and scholarships) and other times I take all of it off in the hopes that it is not immediately identifiable. I have a non-stereotypically black name, so that’s not an issue like it can be for some people. 

There are some places I’ve really wanted to apply to, but that are so far away for a person without private transportation that it’s nearly impossible for me to get there. For example, there’s a birth center I would apply to be an RN at, there’s a RN position at Planned Parenthood in a nearby major city, and there was an RN position at an office 45 minutes away. But I have no way to get to these places, sigh. The exception to this is midwife jobs... those I have started to apply to no matter where in the country they are, even though I am not quite sure how we would manage to relocate... and even though I really, really want to stay where we are.

Like many other times in the history of my blogging (thesis, integration, etc), this is the moment I should be blogging the most, but when I have the least amount of interest. If I were to blog my daily ins and outs, they would look something like this:

• struggle to stay up until midnight to say hi to the man and talk to him while he eats dinner, then fall asleep at 1/1:30am
  
• sleep until 8
  
• wake up, eat something, check email, surf the net
• read blogs (pcos/infertility, or midwifery, or race & culture, or random & brilliant)
• send the man off to work
  
• apply to random nurse, midwife, secretary, research, temporary jobs through medhunters, midwifejobs, indeed, idealist, and craigslist
  
• eat something
• email and call jobs I’ve already applied to to check status 
  
• read an OB case study in an attempt to study for boards (I’ll get more serious about this as the time gets closer, right now with the test being a month away I won’t retain most of it, so I’m only studying casually)
• read for pleasure (currently re-reading Their Eyes Were Watching God)
  
• household chores
  
• try not to bang my head against the wall for too long, or drown myself in sugar or wine, or become the terribly negative person (which is easy for me because I’m naturally cynical and not the most smiley, nor the most optimistic person in the world)

There are days when this mundane life is made a little more interesting by running errands to the store, the library, or the post office. Sunday I went to the movies to see Food, Inc. It has traumatized me severely. I have not eaten meat since the night before I saw it. Monday, I went grocery shopping for the week and only two packages of meat made it into the cart: antibiotic and hormone free so-called organic chicken legs and steamed crab legs. I won’t be eating the chicken; I bought it for the man... who surprisingly said “put it in the freezer” and agreed that he will not be eating meat for a while either.... after I told him alllll about the film, lol.

The grocery trip ended up being more than I bargained for... I bought more than I intended, and therefore spent more than I intended to spend. But that’s what happens when you don’t make a good list beforehand. The real problem is that because we do not own a car, our grocery shopping is done by walking or the public bus. This time I was on the bus. And it was hell. To carry that much stuff ($85 worth of grocery in about 8 bags) in this humid, hot weather on not one, but two buses, was more than I wanted to handle. And this was after I spent the first half of the day running errands in this same crappy weather, on the same public transit system. Hot, tried, and irritated do not even begin to describe my frustration with my place in the economy right now. I was --->this<--- close to crying on the bus... but then, a woman who was surely 39.9 weeks pregnant wobbled onto the bus with her own bags... sweat dripping down her cheeks... in a skimpy tank top that looked like it felt like a winter coat... and swollen ankles and feet filling overrun flip flops... and I chastised myself and ended my pity party.

The man's golden birthday starts at midnight... I'm off to bake a non-fancy cake and rummage for some candles....

HP

I went to see H.arry P.otter tonight. It was good, but not great. There was a lot of flirting in the movie. It was nearly a romantic comedy... which I didn't appreciate. Unfortunately, Hermione (my favorite character) lost some of her wit and spunk and fierceness... she is basically a moody girl pining after a boy for the whole movie. Sigh. 

Dinner, on the other hand, was great. We ate a semi-soul food restaurant. We shared a bread basket that had homemade buttermilk biscuits, sweet potato biscuits, and cornbread served with apple butter and peach & pepper jam. Then we shared a side of mac and cheese as an appetizer. Then we shared catfish. It was all divine.

Case in Point

Did you see all those errors in that last post? (If not, you missed it... punctuation issues and all, because I've fixed them now, lol)

Do you know my undergraduate degree is in writing?

Eventually it will come back, sigh.

Thanks for the encouragement Anne, you always know what to say :o)

Intellect Lost

Last night I read this post, and was a little sad because the moment I've been dreading is now here, for real... an honest, internal/private, critique about my own connection with hip hop... which is more layered because I consider myself to also be somewhat married to hip hop... which for me is not just gangsta rap... (and, btw, I hate when people use the two interchangeably) for me... an internal conversation about hip hop inevitably turns to classism and my relationship with my husband... which I do think about, but which I also allow to be ruled by emotion rather than pure critical thought... meaning... I believe, with us, love will conquer all... even though I know love is not enough. It's complicated... and yet it's not. People ask me about how we got together... how we stay together... if he will go to school now... if I think we will outgrow each other... and lots of other things that I'm always surprised other people even care about. Mainly, we work on it. We work on being and staying married. Period. But for myself, I must also think ahead so that I can have the answers for these questions from other people. I'm quick on my feet and have plenty of unfiltered answers, but lately I've been wanting to think more critically about it... to write about it. So, it's coming, I know it.

And then I finally, finally, started reading about Iran (because I have absolutely NO CLUE what the hell is going on)...

And then I read this, and a bunch of other posts on her blog...

And when I finished my internet surfing, I felt dumb. While home, my friend said “smart people go to ivy1, huh?” I thought about it, probably made a face of some sort, and concluded “yeah, right” in my mind. I’ve often heard that graduate school is supposed to expose you to all you don’t know... that you’re supposed to feel dumb... that it’s part of the game... but I thought at some point... like, graduation perhaps? one is supposed rejoin the land of smart people.... right? Ha! land of smart people... like it’s some kind of league of extraordinary gentle(wo)men. But I don’t know what super power I have... I used be able to talk about language and writing (but not the mechanics... because that part came somewhat naturally to me, and by the time I actually got into learning advanced grammar I was no longer interested) and I used to be able to hold a decent conversation about certain genres of fiction... and then I could talk all day about education and race and culture... and then came midwifery. Maybe emotional intelligence is my super power. Not the study of it, nor the ability to have a highly stimulating intellectual conversation about it, but the intuitiveness of it. Or, screw it, maybe intuitiveness, exactly, is my super power.  Whatever. But now...

Now it seems I can not have a real conversation... with a stranger for example... about anything. I feel how I imagine stay at home moms must feel after being home with babies for a few years. Like, who the hell am I, and what was it I’m good at again?!? It’s true that I picked up some knowledge about women’s health care. I know how to deliver a baby now... I know that’s a big deal... but at the same time... as a midwife, I also know and believe that babies are born with or without highly educated professionals who know how to properly catch them ;o) so really... hmmm. ok. Sigh. My education is important to me. I would never take it back. But I simply don’t feel that much smarter. I feel like I know a lot more about the female body than I used to... but now I know a lot less about what’s going on in the rest of the world. I know a lot less about a bunch of other stuff that has always mattered to me.

I was thinking about gifted children who spend most of their lives in public schools getting above average marks with below average effort who are understandably in for a rude awakening when... if... they get to better, more challenging institutions with higher expectations. It’s good and it’s bad. It’s like that moment in time when we integrated the schools... it’s good- we have better access to better schools... but it’s bad- we’ve lost a certain sense of community. Suddenly, we aren’t so smart anymore. I don’t know... that’s a tangent, but I don’t feel like exploring it.

Long ago I heard and understood that smart people know they don’t know anything. I embrace that. But at the same time, damn I’d like to be able to hold a conversation about something other than birth or everyday nonsense. I wish I felt as smart as other people think I am.

I also told my friend that I felt my creativity was gone. It’s true. I feel like it’s been beaten out of me. But I know it’s there... somewhere...

My brain is jelly. 

Warm jelly oozing out of my ear like grape jelly slides off warm buttered bagels when you bite into them.

I’m hungry.

For stimulation... for challenge... for conversation... for tv... for ocean water on my toes... for a home cooked meal from my own kitchen... for a book to blow my mind wide open... I haven't had that since Sister Outsider, early last year.

Although, Midnight, by Sister Souljah almost got me fired up... from anger and irritation at the book. 

But almost aint good enough.

Sigh.

Memory Dance

Upon running into an ex-lover while home visiting family for two weeks:

“I heard you got married? How long? Any kids? I thought you wanted a lot’a kids? Do you guys argue about that? I bet he’s not happy about that. Oh yeah, congratulations on school. I bet you were the only black person there (laugh) You always said you were going to do it. I can’t believe you deliver people’s babies. That’s crazy. It’s so... out there. I can’t believe I... You still have crazy mood swings? From laughing to screaming to crying? You were crazy. Did you ever get any medication for that? (laugh) Do you remember you fought me, at your house? I came in later than planned and we were supposed to do something, and when I walked in you attacked me! You used to be a mean blankety blank. My car got towed from your house that day. You drove the convertible back then; you were the shit. But you were too serious. I was like “who is this little 18 year old girl with her life already figured out?” Too serious. You said I was your first. I said, “yeah right.” I know you were just gassin me. Hood girls don’t wait. You sent me to the moon. You never laughed enough. Too much testosterone. Women are supposed to be soft. You were too... strong. And mean. How’s ya man? Us *** were never good enough for you. You got married too young. 20 is too young. You’re like 50 now. (laugh) So, what, ya’ll gon’ bury each other and sh!t? (laugh) I wasn’t ready for all that. And you were all into how you were going to college in the fall and so when summer ended... I... I...  And so to find out you got married... But you always had a problem with the age thing anyway. You always brought it up. But you were such an old soul. Do you remember I always said that? You were so different. I asked about you after. But it’s all good, it’s water under the bridge. I forgive you.” 

I laughed. Said “unh huh” and “really?” and “that was a decade ago” a lot.

I wanted to say...

It wasn’t that *** weren’t good enough for me. In fact, I married one, and, being from (insert name of gritty inner city here), he might even be a little more hood than you. But he’s strong and good and beautiful and secure in his manhood. He is not fazed by my mood swings, and he’s not intimidated by my strength. And even if I had been the only black girl at ivy1, it wouldn’t have mattered because I had him. Always... even in those years I couldn’t stand him.

But I didn’t, because it was none of his business.

I wanted to say...

It wasn’t the 10 year age difference... it was that you were 28 in your mama’s house and I was 18 in my own. It was your immaturity. It was your inability to be committed. I told you what I wanted, what I needed, where I was going, and how I was going to get there. You couldn’t hang... and real talk, you still wouldn’t be able to. 20 might be too young, but what about 30? Damn, aren’t you 40? What are you waiting for?

But I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

I wanted to say...

I didn’t regret our time together, it was what I needed and a lot of what I wanted. You were good at what I needed you for. 

But I didn’t, because that’s just crass :o)

I wanted to say...

Forgive me? Are you friggin kidding?

But I didn't, because who cares?

I wanted to say...

But you really were my first.

But I didn’t, because that was a decade ago... and he’d still be gassed, lol. 

So here we are, in the old neighborhood... you lookin like you wanna eat me up... you catchin glances while my head is turned talkin to other people.... me standin far enough back for you to understand you cant hug me... me trying to include other people in the conversation... you trying to get me alone... my people around to remind you how wonderful they think their cuzin-in-law is... and I mention him at every chance... and we play the game of memory... you more than me... because I can’t remember much of us from a damn decade ago! Eventually my cuzin saves me and we make our way out to our cars... you follow behind, and then I guess my tattoo calls to you because you can not resist reaching out to touch and squeeze the flesh of my neck and shoulders with strong purposeful hands... and I jump and scream a little from the shock of foreign hands on my skin and say, a little louder than I intended, “don’t touch me.” 

This skin is not yours to touch. 

It’s been a decade.

Nothing has changed.

And yet, everything has changed.

MinorityMidwife is ready to go home to the man... have her flesh kneaded... needed... in all the right places. See his smile, hear his voice in person... be whispered to by he who gives her new memories... he who was ready... he who plunged head first into life and love with her without hesitation. Yeah. I’m ready, and on my way.

Breathe

Breathe.

Breathe.

This is so crazy.

What the hell am I suddenly panicking for?

Every job application pisses me off more than the last.

Breathe, minoritymidwife, breathe.

Randomness

After  a wonderful evening yesterday listening to jazz outdoors with great company, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning... and with a terrible itchy body from laying outdoors... that still hasn't calmed!

I was tossing and turning all night with a brain I couldn’t turn off.  So, here I am, about to spew a bunch of randomness across the screen in the hopes that I can get myself together before my large family gathering this afternoon. 

First, I miss the man. I miss my bed. And I miss me and him in my bed. We are in an odd place. Well, not really odd in the general sense, just odd for me. I have always been a hopelessly romantic person. And I have always loved the man. But as I mentioned in an earlier post, we are in a bubble right now... at least, on my end we are. I don't know how he feels about our life right now... but I am in a strong "protect my marriage" kind of place. I do not know where this new intensity came from, but it started in early May. Last night I was thinking, "it's like I'm getting ready for battle." I feel like I'm shoring up our life together for whatever is about to come... I know it's weird. It's hard

 to explain, but it's like I've sniffed out some scent of danger and I'm building a fortress (the bubble) around around us and daring someone/thing to pounce. But there is no imminent danger as far as I can tell... it's like it's all in my head. All I know is I feel an intense love for him and us and our life, and it's so much stronger than it ever was. We've also been talking intensely about what it means to live childfree/childless permanently, so maybe it has something to do with that, too, but I haven't really connected all the dots between the two yet- other than the obvious "the two of us would have to be enough... are we enough?"

Work. I applied for a RN license in the state we now live in. Technically I can now work for 30 days with the license I currently hold in my previous state, so I’ll be beefing up my job search next week after I’m done with vacation.  I feel lazy and without direction. I don’t normally feel this way, so it’s odd for me. I feel both an intense pressure to find a job, any job, and a fake-zen-like “it’s all going to come together even though you cant see it right now.” I see the man holding on to his 9 to 5 and I feel like crap because I know I’m bringing no money into the house. Yet, I remember when the reverse was true... for 10x longer than I’ve been lounging... and I say, “he’ll be ok.” And he says so, too, but still it feels weird. I come from a family of women who work. nonstop. Who are extremely self sufficient, almost to a fault. I often say “sit down, breathe, relax,” to some of the women close to me. They know that as I’m saying it to them, I’m really saying it to myself too. My needs are being met by those who love me. I should be able to relax and breathe, and I 

am, but it doesn’t come easy. It doesn’t come naturally. I have to constantly tell myself to do it... to stop, breathe, relax. Not outwardly, physically, but mentally... I have to remind myself to stop thinking about everything. Stop analyzing everything. Enjoy today, the rest will come.

The test. I worry about it. A lot. Although I'm trying very hard not to. Did you think that my talking about it in the last post would be it? lol. Well it isn't... because I never stop thinking about it. See what I mean? I wrote about it, rationalized the timing of it, tried to make peace with it, and still, still, it's always on my mind. It's like the last piece of midwifery school haunting me. It's like I'm not a real midwife until I've taken and passed it. I remember a teacher telling us that we absolutely can not use the acronym "CNM" after our names until we take and pass the test. So now I'm stuck in that in-between place of not a student, yet not a midwife. And enduring facebook status updates announcing "CNM" every five minutes while I wait for my turn. I need to get off facebook. Real talk.

New Grad Stress

There are moments when I stop and think about what I’ve done and giggle aloud. I stomp my feet, and cover my mouth with my hands and scream right where I am. There’s a joy about the whole thing, that nothing has been able to supplant. 

But I also recognize that the farther away from graduation I get, the less interested in midwifery I become. It’s like midwifery was a fleeting idea. But I know better. I’ve wanted this all my life. But I'm nervous and tired of job hunting and I feel this sinking, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm not sure yet what it's about. I just need to get a job, and soon. The looking sucks, let me tell you. It really, really sucks. And I have never been one to like networking. I hate most things about it. I hate the name dropping. I hate the smiling. I hate the let-me-prove-how-good-I-am as though the credentials aren't enough. I hate the politicking. I hate everything about it. And yet, it's totally and completely necessary. 

In the meantime, I am starting to study for the national board exams. Because of the cost ($750) I am unable to take it for a few months. Most, like 90%, of my class has already taken and passed them. It's so easy to forget stuff, it's better to take it right after graduation when all the content is fresh in your mind.  It bothers me that I will be taking them so late, but I'm trying to make the most of it. I was warned that I need to study extra hard based on my comprehensive finals score. I hate that. I hate that my professor sowed that seed of doubt in my head. That seed + having to take it so late, are really doing a number on my confidence. I will study slowly and thoroughly for the next two months so that I can be sure to pass them anyway. That's about all I can do.

In the Beginning

The first post is always the hardest.

I struggled with whether or not I would use this blog or not. I created it as a place holder when I created my previous two blogs. I managed to actually utilize the other two regularly, and I even heard that I helped a few folks along the way... but am wondering if I will be as diligent with this one. I am still a little unclear as to the purpose of this blog, and that just screams "you're not going to use this!" to me.

I still have a particular voice that should be heard... and I usually have a lot to say. But at the same time I am also becoming more of a recluse, enjoying the bubble me and the man have been living in lately, and seriously thinking about unwiring my life. I've already seriously cleaned out my facebook account. I don't twitter. I've ignored LinkedIn. I'm reading more, commenting less. Yet, I still need a place to write and think. I love blogging. I really do, but I am still an oddly private person. I also have very little anonymity left, and ever since I lost it, writing has been different, more difficult, for me.

I think the title of this blog implies expert knowledge on minority midwives can be found here... or at least will be discussed here a lot... but it won't be... at least I don't think so... at least not right now.

I have a vision of this place for the future, and it's strong enough that I wanted to own the domain, so I bought it.

In the meantime, it is exactly as the heading descriptor says; I'm going to talk about myself a lot, and everything else a little bit. I intend to chronicle my job hunting trials, random midwifery tidbits, random racial tidbits and whatever else is on my mind. If you're looking for a typical midwife birth blog... this aint it... and you might be happier elsewhere, lol.

If you don't mind watching a nappy-headed-but-straight-hair-weave-wearing black girl spew her contradictory brainy thoughts across your Mac screen, you're welcome to stay :o)