Overheard in Bank of America

"So then he left and was just like, 'I gotta go.' Then later I texted him, 'How's packing going?' He writes back, 'It sucks. I'm loading the car now.' Then I wrote, 'I had fun last night.' And he wrote, 'Yeah. Let's get together Friday night.' So, like, he wants to see me, you know? He wouldn't have said 'Let's get together, you know?'

Steve? You mean Steve my real estate agent? He wouldn't say anything.

No, he knows Glen. He knows the situation.

Steve said he texted him and he said it was 'hot, drunk sex,' so, he must have liked it, you know?

Ugh, this thing is not taking my card.

I don't know. What?

We didn't go to breakfast the next morning, but I was so dead asleep, he said he couldn't even wake me.

It's weird.

I don't know.

But, like, we've done this before, you know? He wouldn't keep coming home with me if he wasn't into it, you know?

I just--"

As much as I wanted to hear the end of this story, I had to get back to the plantation. But seriously, I was riveted. There was so much I needed to know, such as....

• How can you be talking about your 'hot drunk sex' all up in the bank with your outside voice on a cell phone?
• Your real estate agent is getting you dudes? Would that make him your pimp?
• Why are you tripping over a dude named Glen?

Mama Didn't Raise No Fool!

And so we thank her, on this day, the 6th day of BHM.

I thought it behoovy of me to praise Mama Dukes because we went to Bank of America this morning to apply for my mortgage, so I can get off her plantation. Thanks to her hard work and good credit, I have been pre-approved! Clearly, this is not something I could have done on my own. When I asked Big Mama Thornton* if she really wanted to do this, if she was really ready to be my blackup in case of nonpayment, she said to me, in all seriousness:
“I see this as an investment in you. I believe that in a few years you will be a financial stable and responsible adult, and I want to help you get on your own two feet—and off my couch.”

It was touching moment. Massa-Mama is enabling me to break free from the shackles of oppression and get my own 40 acres and a mule—or, in this case, several hundred square feet and a doorman.

MaDukes should be thanked for several reasons:

1. She taught me to read.
2. She didn’t give me up for adoption, when she most certainly could have.
3. After I was born, she sent me to Africa for 6 months and I lived with my grandma while mom studied for the bar exam. If that’s not being a strong black woman, I don’t know what is.
3a. If she hadn’t passed that bar exam, she wouldn’t be the lawyer she is today.
4. She taught me that when a White person tells me I’m “well-spoken,” they are being “condescending” and “racist.”
5. She fed me until I was old enough to cook for my damn self.
6. She’s shown me that a woman is never too old to get a Latin lover.
7. She taught me all about TRUTH.
As a young girl, I looked to my mother for validation, guidance, and support. If I was wearing a hideous outfit, she would tell me; if I complained about gaining weight, she’d stop buying sweets, “cause the Buddha-belly was bulging.” When tears would well up in my nubian eyes, she’d calmly explain, “I’m your mother. If you can’t count on me to tell you the truth, who can you count on?” It was rough, it was harsh, but it was always the Sojourner Truth.



I hope you, too, go to the strong black women in your lives and show them some love this month.

This is what you find when you google search "Slave Mother." This is a still from the movie Beloved, starring Oprah Winfrey. Neither of these women were actual slaves at any point.


*not her real name