My family, extended family, is ghetto and I don’t mean in a ghetto-fabulous way. I mean just plain GHETTO.
Most of the time I let it slide off me. I don’t live by them (by choice), I don’t get involved in the drama (I never have), but damn it if this ghetto mentality doesn’t get me down at times. Today I was in a wonderful mood and then I called my mother. I listened to the garbage being dumped in my ear and thought, “this isn’t about me, this won’t get to me, I am not a part of this”, but as soon as I hung up I started sobbing. You see, I may not be a part of it, but the people involved are a part of me; they live in my friggin’ heart. I love them and I can’t stand that they live their lives like guests on a Spanish-speaking version of The Jerry Springer Show.
It is not my place to air other people’s ghetto laundry so I will not bore you with the current details, but I thought I would share some examples of what makes certain members of my extended family GHETTO.
- I was once in a video for “5 a Day”, which promotes eating 5 serving of fruits and vegetables a day. It’s not the kind of video that you would see on TV. I was never quite sure who would see it. Well, I was visiting family and one of my aunts (sweet lovable woman) told me that she had seen the video and had bragged to everyone that I was her niece. When I asked her were she had seen it, she answered that she saw it while she was doing some time in prison. Nice.
- When I was 11 there was a party at our house that was mostly family. Things got out of hand and an angry jealous man pulled out a rifle and started threatening people with it. The police came. After the police came everyone was freaked out because they were told that the call to 911 had been made from inside our home. Everyone was trying to figure out who called and why they called. Uh, IT WAS ME! I CALLED!!! I was 11 and a crazy drunk man was waving a rifle at people I love. No one tripped off of his behavior, but calling the police was deemed crazy. I never admitted to being the one that called because I was afraid I would get in trouble.
- My brother, mother, and I went to see Miss Saigon. Not my cup of tea, but my mother got us tickets because she knows I like theater and was trying to be nice. My brother had really only ever been to see me in plays. We’re sitting there and my brother is obviously bored until a scene where scantily clad women of questionable repute are gyrating on stage. At that point, he starts hooting, hollering, and clapping wildly. Keep in mind the rest of the audience is silent and my brother is louder than the performers on stage. Then he turns to me and says, “You know if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have any art in my life. Thank you.” Oh brother!
I could share tons of anecdotes like the ones above, but I’m sure you get the point. I love my family, I really do, and they are not all ghetto, but it pains me that some of them don’t seem to understand that life does not have to be so full of drama and self-made tragedy.
A few weeks back I was speaking to my pregnancy counselor and I told her about the worries I have for my children. I told her that I did not want to pass my fears onto them, that my issues are my issues and I want them to stop with me. That I don’t want them to go through what I’ve been through. She listened and when I was done she said, “You know, Unknown Mami, some people have happy childhoods; they grow up without any major trauma and still manage to be good, kind-hearted, caring people.” I answered, “Huh, I never considered that possibility.” Now, I know; I know it’s a possibility.
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I Comment Therefore I Am
by UnknownMami on August 30, 2010
Welcome to another edition of I Comment Therefore I Am, where I put together a post from comments I’ve left on other blogs. Below are some of my favorite posts from the previous week and what they inspired me to say.
Mrs. 4444 shared how her daughter, Kendall, ran into some celebrities during a stay at Trump Towers. One of the celebrities was Josh Duhamel (from Transformers), who happens to be her brother’s favorite actor. Kendall went looking for Josh in the hotel weight room so that she could get an autograph for her brother. I commented…
The Good Cook shared an encounter she had with her husband that recently passed, which reminded me of an encounter I had with an aunt that passed…
That’s it for this edition of I Comment Therefore I Am.
Do you give good comment? Wanna play along? Go forth, spread the comment love, and turn it into a post (I keep a draft post open while I read blogs throughout the week). Recycle, reuse, and reduce my friends; it’s the wave of the future.
Oh and feel free to comment on my comments otherwise how will I know that you exist.
If you play along please link back and/or post the button below. Spread the love, spread the love! You can grab the button code from my sidebar.
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