That is where the power comes from...

Now, I know most people think they were the "weird kid", but I am telling you, I really was that "weird kid". Here are just a few examples: One, my imaginary friend's name was not Kelly or Robert. Nope, it was Michael Jackson, and no, I didn't name my best friend after him. My imaginary friend was him. The positive thing about this rather "peculiar" friend was I ended up being a great dancer and singer. Two, I was unbearably shy. Spending hours grasping my dad's leg as if we both would die if I let go, every time I met a stranger or hiding from my uncle, who always cracked jokes, therefore, scaring me into silence, so he would not have anything negative to say about me. I still can't believe I was terrified of my nicest, funniest uncle. It just didn't make sense. Even though, I was incredibly shy and scared of life, I had this active imagination. I was the Queen of Mongolia, hid Princess Anastasia in my attic, sometimes was Daisy Duke (when I was riding my bicycle), was Eleanor Roosevelt's confidante, wife of a boy named Dimitri and a doctor who found a cure for hunger by giving Twinkies to everyone in the world (afterall, everyone deserves one. I won many awards from the Nobel Peace Prize to an Oscar. I sang with Diana Ross at half-time at the Super Bowl. All of these things I accomplished by the young age of 7.

Due to my shyness, I locked myself away in these imaginary worlds-ones in my head and on paper. I was a voracious reader. I read everything from the Mandie series to Coretta Scott King's (unabridged) biography. Being obsessed with history, I read every Civil Right's and American Revolution book I could get my hands on. I forgot to mention, my love of music and dance. Locked away in my own world, I danced to the Beatles and the Shirelles with Michael, and I sang as good as Whitney Houston and Cyndi Lauper. There was a freedom I had in these worlds, that I couldn't experience in real life.

This is, perhaps, why I was drawn to the stories of slaves, the oppressed, or anyone who tried to overcome and destroy fear and hate. Reading inspirational stories, helped me overcome my own fear. Eventually, I would leave my bedroom, my living room and treehouse to start playing with other kids. I finally saw a door that could lead me to another world, the real world. I know this seems and is trivial compared to the actual events that occurred in history and the suffering people have endured.

This is Black History Month, and we remember and honor our history as Americans. We can look each into our lives to see how they were impacted by and shaped the people before us. Much has changed- on grand scales and small. We have a black president. Then, there are little girls who were inspired in their bedrooms to leave, singing "We shall overcome" and enter the world with her imagination in tow to figure out ways to love each other better. In other ways, we haven't changed at all- still full of hate, fear and sin. (Listen to the National Tea Party Convention in Nashville this past weekend.)

On a postive note:
Today, I suggest listening to the voice of Mahalia Jackson. Her voice will inspire you. The words to old Gospel music will move you. Let it.