<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579</id><updated>2011-12-30T07:53:54.797-08:00</updated><category term='ghetto life'/><category term='racial discrimination'/><category term='respect'/><category term='GG Original'/><category term='attitude'/><category term='Black'/><category term='grandma'/><category term='drug dealers'/><category term='gangsta'/><category term='drugs'/><category term='poverty'/><title type='text'>GANGSTA GRANDMA</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579.post-3378395018372613536</id><published>2009-08-16T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T14:44:41.211-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racial discrimination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drug dealers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poverty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghetto life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gangsta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black'/><title type='text'>BIRTH RIGHTS</title><content type='html'>Sunday again.  It's been another good week. This week I got to play mini-geek for a friend who was having problems with her computer. I wasn't able to fix her problem , but I told her I believed she needed a new modem.  Since she works she asked me if I would come back to be in her apartment when the computer technician came. I did that two days later. He checked and said, "You need a new modem."  I felt a little brilliant for a few moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was waiting for him to arrive I got a good start on GANG LEADER FOR A DAY by Sudhir Venkatesh. I plan on spending my evening with the same book. The author, while in grad school studying for his degree in sociology, befriended a gang leader and spent years learning about the poor black community and drug dealing from the inside out. Oddly enough in the last six years, I have had a similar experience, only mine has been to live in the "hood" and listen to the mothers, girlfriends, and addicts. I have written letters to judges for mothers whose sons were about to be sentenced, and written letters for a woman who fell in love with a dealer who is still serving time, although he's due to be released n February.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have shared with those on the street, and sat with them elbow to elbow at the local soup kitchen. There have been moments when I was the only white person in a room or on the street.  I have heard the anguish and I have had it directed at me. I have comforted and been comforted by the same people.  I have confronted young boys with guns in their pockets and I have received the nodding head salute of their superiors. I learned to wear my hat sideways and walk erect with energy on the street, no matter how I felt that day. I learned to project strength until that strength came to live inside me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned to love fried chicken and collard greens and why people will spend their last few dollars on lottery tickets. I learned to pause and share a hug on the street. I know what it is to have lost a friend because he was beaten to death, and what it is to hear gunfire and back away from the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the time I was a child, I saw no difference between races, other than some people have very different features and skin tones are different. I have understood without ever being told that we are all spirits having a physical experience of life.  My ancestry is mixed; I am both Caucasian and Native American.  I've always leaned toward my Native ancestry in habits and beliefs, but recently I became grateful that I was born White in America.  Having seen how real the oppression is in this country for those born poor and Black, I can only shake my head and then bow it in appreciation. I have had many rough experiences in life, but I had them as  a White woman' For as long as I can dress well and hold my head up, there are far more options for me in life than for my Black sisters. We live in the same neighborhood, but in two different worlds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9136895935986131579-3378395018372613536?l=gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3378395018372613536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3378395018372613536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/2009/08/birth-rights.html' title='BIRTH RIGHTS'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579.post-3813695831082062242</id><published>2009-06-13T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T01:37:09.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VARIATION OF A DREAM COME TRUE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjNlDpg_k5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/c667eg46CBc/s1600-h/native+grandmother.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 112px; height: 118px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjNlDpg_k5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/c667eg46CBc/s320/native+grandmother.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346728295977161618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What can I give to those yet to be born&lt;br /&gt;But the words I have now&lt;br /&gt;Cherish&lt;br /&gt;Respect&lt;br /&gt;Treasure&lt;br /&gt;Those are words I would send on to them&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I could live several lifetimes&lt;br /&gt;To cradle the babies&lt;br /&gt;To dry the tears of heartache&lt;br /&gt;They are words that came to me&lt;br /&gt;From the grandmothers who lived before me&lt;br /&gt;They are the words to buffer our spirits&lt;br /&gt;Against the harsher realities in life&lt;br /&gt;The words we walk the meaning to&lt;br /&gt;Whispering them to one another&lt;br /&gt;At just the right moments&lt;br /&gt;Assuring the continuation&lt;br /&gt;Of the sanity of love&lt;br /&gt;No matter what occurs&lt;br /&gt;From one generation to another&lt;br /&gt;Cherish&lt;br /&gt;Respect&lt;br /&gt;Treasure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(C) 2009 Beth NoLastName&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9136895935986131579-3813695831082062242?l=gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3813695831082062242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3813695831082062242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/2009/06/variation-of-dream-come-true_13.html' title='VARIATION OF A DREAM COME TRUE'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjNlDpg_k5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/c667eg46CBc/s72-c/native+grandmother.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579.post-1037581288900440514</id><published>2009-06-12T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T13:54:40.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VARIATION OF A DREAM COME TRUE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjK5vfkGpVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/QfzgG1QMJms/s1600-h/IMG000080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjK5vfkGpVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/QfzgG1QMJms/s320/IMG000080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346539933220119890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither one of my grandmothers colored their hair. They didn't wear make up. They wore dresses always.  They both had front porches with rocking chairs. They had homes with pantries and stair banisters that I could slide down.  They were respected by their husbands and adored by their sons.  By the time they were my age, they were old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I sit, looking out my internet window.  My front porch holds the entire world.  My chair doesn't rock, it rolls.  My grandchildren aren't related to me by blood, but they are mine, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to be a grandma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9136895935986131579-1037581288900440514?l=gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/1037581288900440514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/1037581288900440514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/2009/06/variation-of-dream-come-true.html' title='VARIATION OF A DREAM COME TRUE'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FC0u8Vrel68/SjK5vfkGpVI/AAAAAAAAAAw/QfzgG1QMJms/s72-c/IMG000080.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579.post-3061417537326885278</id><published>2009-06-07T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T14:21:33.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respect'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghetto life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gangsta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>GANGSTA'S FINE WITH ME</title><content type='html'>I used to say I was an gangsta as Tinkerbell, but I doubt that's true any longer. I have my own definition of gangsta, which might not fit with the norm, but it's what I have experienced and what I can agree with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm different. I'm not willing to settle for the status quo, not for me...not for my "kids". I want better than what I see around me. I want to be a part of changing what I see around me. It matters less to me if you love me or like me than it does if you respect me. Respect I will have...or I won't relate. I don't mind being hated. It's worth the price to be true to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have "attitude".  If you don't like my attitude, tell it to someone else. I'm not interested in hearing what you don't like.  If you don't "get me" then chances are you have fallen for the Big Lie and are still hoping to get to heaven by way of Hollywood. I don't bother with that stuff. I live right now...right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I'm angry, and  don't wanna hear you telling me anger is not  a good thing. Anger is a feeling like any other! Of course I get angry!  I live in a country that is supposed to have freedom of speech, but if I say a word that offends someone who has more money than I do, or is in a more influential position than I am, I am the one who pays. I am criticized and censored.  For what? Speaking my mind?  Eyebrows raise at times as I speak my truth. "You aren't supposed to say that aloud!" Why not? If it's the truth, who is it going to hurt? You would condemn me if I used drugs, but then you tell me to live in denial without them? The land of denial is not for me! There's no future at all there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live straight, but I live in a neighborhood where drugs are sold, so it is assumed that I use drugs, or if I manage my finances well, that I sell them!  Attitudes like mine build better neighborhoods and communities. Attitudes like yours create and maintain ghettos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I care about the people who live around me. I don't intrude on their lives. I respect their boundaries and ask that they respect mine.  Some deal with life differently than I do. As long as they don't tell me how to live, I practice live and let live. I'm not responsible to solve their problems. I just care about them as people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am friendly to the people I like. I let the rest go. I acknowledge them if spoken to. I'm not running for office. It doesn't matter if they don't notice me. I simply want to go about my business each day with as little hassle as possible. If we can get along well and even laugh, that is fine. If not, there is no reason to worry about it or them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, I guess I am gangsta.  From what I have seen of the world around me, it's not a bad attitude at all to hold...especially in a urban setting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9136895935986131579-3061417537326885278?l=gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3061417537326885278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/3061417537326885278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/2009/06/gangstas-fine-with-me.html' title='GANGSTA&apos;S FINE WITH ME'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9136895935986131579.post-695702486022645724</id><published>2009-05-30T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T14:23:00.919-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drug dealers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GG Original'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghetto life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gangsta'/><title type='text'>GANGSTA GRANDMA</title><content type='html'>White woman on Perry Street&lt;br /&gt;Hey Auntie You straight&lt;br /&gt;Straight longer 'n you've been alive&lt;br /&gt;And your mama too&lt;br /&gt;Hey Baby Waz zup&lt;br /&gt;My age that's what&lt;br /&gt;Old enough to be your grandma&lt;br /&gt;Lady from the suburbs&lt;br /&gt;Gives me a ride home&lt;br /&gt;I tell her I live in the richest part of the city&lt;br /&gt;Kids on my block carry rolls larger 'n their fists&lt;br /&gt;Drug route a better profit than newspapers&lt;br /&gt;Hop on your bike&lt;br /&gt;Ride around the corner and hand the man in the car&lt;br /&gt;A little bag&lt;br /&gt;Beats carrying a sack full of shit that's heavy&lt;br /&gt;Kids on my block are the news&lt;br /&gt;They don't pedal papers&lt;br /&gt;They fill their pages from front to obit&lt;br /&gt;That ain't no water pistol, Mister&lt;br /&gt;Walk tall or don't walk at all&lt;br /&gt;At least not on Perry Street&lt;br /&gt;Doing time means you got stupid&lt;br /&gt;The next kid'll take your spot&lt;br /&gt;Leave the money in a safe&lt;br /&gt;So it takes more time for someone to get it&lt;br /&gt;'Cuz you know in your gut&lt;br /&gt;Ain't no one can be trusted&lt;br /&gt;It's one for all and all for none&lt;br /&gt;On Perry Street&lt;br /&gt;Wanna' be a hero&lt;br /&gt;Get dead&lt;br /&gt;They hang a sheet out with your name on it&lt;br /&gt;And wear their colors&lt;br /&gt;Mama dressed in black&lt;br /&gt;Your friends in red&lt;br /&gt;They talk about cha for a day or two&lt;br /&gt;Maybe even take down the guy that got you&lt;br /&gt;And then it's business as usual&lt;br /&gt;On Perry Street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;© 2006 Beth NoLastName&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9136895935986131579-695702486022645724?l=gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/695702486022645724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9136895935986131579/posts/default/695702486022645724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gangsta-grandma.blogspot.com/2009/05/gangsta-grandma.html' title='GANGSTA GRANDMA'/><author><name>Beth NoLastName</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07308690722724203946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUG-05e461E/Tv3eLKDACdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/AIVdLRNFaXk/s220/Picture0030.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
