Why I’m Not “Good People”

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Jenny's Library

I’m not a nice person.

I’m not a good person.

I’m not a kind person.

This isn’t to say that I don’t ever try to be any of these three things.  I do, especially the last two.

It’s more to say that, for me, surviving in this cissexist, racist, ableist, heteronormative, classist, often fucked up world of ours has involved rejecting the idea that “good” and “bad” are static states of being.  I will never be a “good person” because, to me, “good” is not something that you achieve.  It’s an ongoing process that never ends.

It is, in fact, almost impossible not to be doing bad things as well as good when you are human and therefore flawed.  Especially when you are part of a messed up system, as we all are.

This, to me, is why it’s important to call out bad behavior, or hurtful language, or even…

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Get Lost

Lets get lost in something.
I dont know what,
Only that with you it will be beautiful.

Come with me please.
Bring your electric soul along.
Bring your smile and laughter.
Bring your alluring eyes so we may use them to see the beauty of the many undiscovered pleasures life is waiting for us to unravel.

Bring your mind along.
Figuring out the mazes inside your head is a challenge that will lead me to countless dead ends.
If we don’t find our way to where we are going;
If the place I imagine to await us does not exist;
If we never find Neverland
And we have to come back to reality
And our wings of freedom get clipped by the trap called growing up,
Allow me at least to get lost in your inscrutable mind.

Let’s get high on song.
Bring your dance moves,
I’ll bring my quirky voice
And we will create an upbeat remix to the monotonous soundtrack of life.

Lets create and direct our own hype,
Get intoxicated with ideas
And plans to create new realities,
Let the Universe know to get ready for us;
Dream peculiar dreams,
And even if we wake up sober,
We will remember how good it was to dream
And press on till the day it is reality.

Let’s get lost in nowhere and nothing, and somewhere and everything.

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To My Daddy

Two days ago, the world was celebrating Father’s Day. Although I’m two days late, I am feeling compelled to celebrate my late father too, in short and in writing.

My dad passed on when I was about to turn 10 years old after a short illness.

By then I hadn’t formed a relationship with him. He was what I think I can call a typical black father (we’ll that of course in the eyes of a typical young black daughter). Physical affection wasn’t something he displayed well. So I have no recollection whatsoever of getting any hugs from him, or kisses for that matter. But that was never an issue then. Even now, it isn’t an issue, although there are times where I know I could have used a little bit of some fatherly love & affection.

Many things about him do put my heart at ease about growing up with without him. First, its the love he had for my mother. Although he worked as a builder and earned a measly salary, my mom never wanted for anything. With four kids to feed, of whom I am the last born, we never suffered. He worked very hard to ensure that we were all well fed, well dressed; that we had a roof over our head and also, he took great care that we were spiritually taken care of too (we always had bible study with him every other day of the week.)

He didn’t make enough to take us to multi-racial schools, so we all went to school ko kasi. When I got my scholarship to go study at the German School at grade 5, he was sooo proud, and although he tried to keep a straight face, I remember the glow in his face all too well! He unfortunately fell ill a few weeks after, and only got to see me once in my new school uniform when he was out of hospital for a few days (to which he remarked that my skirt was short lol). He passed away a few weeks later.

Life did become rough from that point onwards, and with my mom having to now care for 4 children on her own without having completed any formal education and without any formal employment, the changes were drastic. We got introduced to the life of struggle. Yet, she did an amazing job (I’m still in awe of how she managed without visibly falling apart.)

The main thing that makes me at peace with him not being around is that he never walked out on us. I know for a fact that he loved his family and ensured that we had all we needed when he was still around. And for a daughter, that’s more than enough. I know that could he have had a choice to negotiate with death, he would have still been here with us to this day.

To my late father, Jackson Mokgoro Ntsoane, I cherish the few vivid memories I still have of you. And until we meet again, I will always love you!

I Speak Life.

I speak life into my life. I command the situations inherited by a past gone wrong, I tell them to rise again. For it is not our lot in life to suffer. It is our duty to work hard, but it is evil to embrace strife and suffering.

I speak life in abundance into my life. I speak living into my life. Mere existence, hiding behind the shadows of fear and doubt, is a grave injustice. It is over glorified death in disguise.

I speak life into my heart.
The thousand deaths it has died before have been nullified, and it is reborn, in its most purest form. I speak love into my heart. I pronounce it free from the bondage of hate, jealousy, envy, and regret. I call it beautiful. For through it flows the essence of my life.

I speak life as my Creator had intended it into my future. I tell it to be magnificent. I warn it to prepare for a great me. I speak words so clear it cannot help but to take heed. I tell it to prepare for my becoming; my coming into the fullness of my purpose.

I speak. I send my words. And I plant these seeds. And even when weeds of doubt grow on a daily, I plough them out with constant affirmation of the life I declare.

The power of my tongue is power. The words I speak are the life I live. I speak calm, joy, healing, growth, acceptance, comfort, peace, health and rest, into my existence. As I speak it, I will live it.

I am living and learning.

We live and we learn. We cannot learn much if we do not live. And it is only in taking the risk of really living that we learn so much more.

Living life in fear of failure, or pain, will keep us stagnant. Pain is a part of all our lives. Fear happens to all of us. But that need not dictate how we live our lives. Knowing that we are going to die someday does not stop us from waking up every morning. Likewise, knowing that life may occasionally put us in painful situations should not stop us from really living.

Learn to let go the disabling fear of experiencing failure or pain. Learn to live.

Dear male species…

Do you look at me and see a human being?
No really. Do you look at me and see a human being?
Do you think i have feelings?
Do you think i feel pain?
Do you think I have choices?
Can I say yes or can I say no?

You answer yes to all of my questions, but after that you still rape me.

You rape me everyday when i walk past.
With your eyes you undress me,
and in your mind you plan the details of how you will prey on me.
And on one fateful evening you found a chance to live out your sick fantasies, and even when i cried and begged for you to let me go,
You still carried on and violated me in the worst way possible.

Man,
What has become of you?
My brother,
What has reduced you lower than an animal?
My husband,
How do you look at our infant daughter and feel aroused?
My father,
How does violating a powerless human being make you feel powerful?

When you were done,
You told me it was my fault.
How is it my fault that I am a woman?
How is it my fault that physically I am the weaker sex?
How is it my fault that YOU choose to see me as an object?
How is it my fault that you did not cultivate self control?
How is it that you are a wretch inside, and you are too much of a coward to face your demons, and instead you choose to destroy me to feel better about yourself?

Every 26 seconds.
Every 1/4 of me.
While i try figure out why,
Another part me is being forcefully taken away from me…

And it seems I have no where to run,
For i suffer at the hands of the one who should be protecting me.

My 2013

Its been a while since I posted anything. I trust all of us are doing well so far! I have been pre-occupied with this, that, and the other thing. This being work, that being work, and the other thing also being work!! Physically I must admit 2013 didn’t take off too well. Let me just say I have put my medical aid to a lot of use *hahaha*. But I trust that going forward I am 100 percent well, and will continue being so to the end of the year!

I’ve been asking myself questions. Questions about my life: What have I done so far? What have I not done that I should have done? What are my strengths? What are my weakness? What have been my failures, and what have I learnt from them? What are my successes, and how can I apply the principles I did to achieve the success in order to achieve more success?

I need to establish the answers to those questions before I can set out my plan for the year. Half the time, if not most of the time, we make resolutions and set goals for ourselves, but we do not have a clear plan of how we are going to achieve them. We do not tailor-make these to be in line with our strengths and we don’t take into consideration possible speed-humps that could slow us down. And you know what happens? As soon as we hit the first speed_hump, we make a U-turn and we head back home where we park our goals… and this becomes an annual cycle.

Each and everyday brings a new lesson. If I don’t learn a new thing each day then its pretty much a waste of 24 precious hours. A lesson that hit me (and hit me hard) today is this: its better to make half a step moving forward than to remain on the same spot or move backwards.

The past four years have been very stagnant for me. When I look back and reflect on all I could have done, and I look at all that I didn’t do, I realise that in actual sense I have not really stayed on the same spot, but I have rather taken a few backward steps.

And I have to know why I didn’t move forward to be able to make more conscious and deliberate efforts to not repeat the mistakes.

I WANT 2013 to be the year where I put my money where my mouth is. Whether I have money or not (geez, that lame excuse is sooo played out!), whether I have the resources or not. There many ways to make things happen, and if in truth my passions are really my passions, then my actions will tell.

I’m not saying we must dwell on what we didn’t do well. What I’m saying is: its really good to take a look back, take stock, take the lesson, and keep on walking and pressing ahead.

We are 23 days into the new year, and I hope that 365 days into 2013, we are all able to look back and say this with a smile: “Yes I did that, and I did that too!!”

Even half a step forward is better than remaining on the same spot.

Love always!
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