40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 21

Who doesn't love a surprise? I mean I love 'em. I love being in on them and I love being the recipient. I know, 3rd grade, right. I'm always intrigued by folks who don't like them. They make me go bananas. Just the other day, my roomie (Day 23) tells me 'Hey, I wrote you a note.'  Nothing out of the ordinary as she loves to write. My reply 'Cool, I like notes.'

But when I leave to go to work not only did she write me a note, she wrote me 23 notes. Grr, how in the world am I going to concentrate at work? Then I thought - haha - another Lenten moment. For lent, I was to stop cursing (work in progress, baby ;-) and exhibit more patience. Well, this was nothing short of an opportunity to exhibit patience. Really? It didn't work, my 3rd grade mind, wouldn't let it go. Hmmm, what where these notes about? Why the number 23? Michael Jordan came to mind but she's no sports buff and that's probably the only athlete whose number I know by heart. My mind was racing. There was no way I was going to make it until the end of the day to open them.

That reminds me of an Oprah I once saw. The show was about the Marshmallow Experiment, a study which suggested that being able to delay gratification was an indicator of success. I can't remember how success was defined but it boiled down to this. Kids were given one marshmallow and left alone in a room. If the kids could wait some length of time, say 2-3 minutes, then they would get an additional marshmallow.

It was great, some kids bust out crying right away. Potential losers? ;-) Who knows? Some kids picked it up, played with it, twirled it between their fingers. Some licked it, looked around nervously and put it back down, shaking their hands with anxiety. And some kids simply popped it in their mouth, that would have definitely been me. Potential loser? HA!

But back to the surprise, all morning I'm moving these notes all over the place in the car. I put them in the glove box. Oh, no they could get dirty. No, the storage on the dashboard or maybe even on the driver's side door. By the end, they made it in my purse and I was off to work.

By then, I had time to think. Hmm, what if they were moving? Every woman knows the rule 'There is no crying at work,' period. And let me tell you this 'grateful thing' will mess you up. My head is constantly in the clouds - a gospel song could take me under. Shoot, Phyllis Hyman's Meet me on the Moon tears me up thinking about it, right now. And I'm more expressive ... one of my friends said that about me. I wasn't sure what she meant at the time but she said it like it was a compliment - so, I accepted it. But after 21 days of being grateful, I get it. It is absolutely necessary for me to tell folks how I feel about them. My mind is a constant buzz to 'hug somebody's neck' or tell 'em that I love 'em - yup, just like that.

Needless to say, it doesn't matter how big the surprise is, I get excited because I appreciate someone taking the time out of their day to think of me. My roomdog (Day 2) tries to downgrade any surprise by calling it a treat because she knows how I am. It doesn't matter, it's still a surprise, no matter what she calls it  and I'm ready to approach it with the same verve I always do. That could very well explain why the last treat/surprise she gave me, a cheesecake brownie, never made it out the parking lot and I beamed all the way home.

So, what could it be - more custom prayers? Or even better, a poem or was it a 'Thank You' note? I could feel there wasn't any gift cards in them. Better not, she's on a strong budget. Oh, I know maybe her favorite bible verse. Or maybe my favorite bible verse - yeah, I'm still working on memorizing bible verses, so any verse that folks write down and give me - they become my favorite. I know, keep praying for a Sista. Or was it a scavenger hunt? I know but this is exactly where I go. I touch them, stack them and then sufficiently shuffle them around. First, arranging all the evens, then the odds. But the statistician buried somewhere deep inside me required that I start in order. I laugh out loud as I try to remember the summation equation for a series from 1 to 23.

Guess what? They are not prayers or poems or even bible verses. They are reasons why she's grateful for yours truly ;-) What made this even better is that I, too had planned surprises for 2 folks as well. I've decided that little notes will accompany them and I hope they enjoy their surprise as much as I enjoyed mine.

So on Day 21 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for surprises ... that keep me encouraged. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 20

Isn't it funny how 50% doesn't seem like a good number ... unless it's percent off. Or halfway doesn't seem like you're close to the finish line at all. But, it's all how you look at it, right? On one-hand halfway is good on the other hand it's not. Nothing has changed the event you're monitoring, the only thing that has changed is you or your perspective.

All of this to say, is that I'm halfway to Easter and I would have never thought in a million years it was possible. Possible, for me to find and document 20 things I'm grateful for. I could boast because I'm excited and I am excited but ... a friends' favorite bible verse comes to mind. 1 Corinthians 15:10 'But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.' Hmm, what you're not a bible scholar? I too, had to look it up and here's what the Message reads 'But because God was so gracious, so very generous, here I am. And I’m not about to let his grace go to waste.'

Whew. I'm not about to let his grace go to waste. There it is, that's why I was supposed to blog for these 40 days, so that his grace would not go to waste and I could share it with other people. Who knew, a little idea would bless me like it has. I can not tell you how nothing has really changed, only me. Halfway feels good, 50% feels like it's deserving of an 'A,' the glass isn't half-empty, it's half-full and I'm midway to Easter. The world hasn't changed, only me and how I view it. I'm not so bothered by a gazillion little things that used to drive me crazy. If I'm heading in to work and there's traffic, my instinct is 'grrr.' But, being in this grateful space, my response is 'Hmm, I should put on some good music.' In fact, to me gratefulness must look more like laughter because I'm laughing more than ever even when I'm alone. I've been in the 3rd grade (Day 9) forever but it's never been for any length of time like this. I'm hitting the streets everyday with a new adventure, Look for something to be grateful about.

Looking for parking could easily put me in a bad mood but now I try to park further to burn more calories or to save a few dollars. Just the other day, Bloomingdales cancelled my watch order (the horror) because my phone number didn't' match my account information. Really? Initially, it stressed me out but as 'it dissipates' gratefulness appears and I'm now thinking 'That's a few hundred dollars back in my pocketbook.' Things still bother me but they don't ruin my day and I'm annoyed for far less time. Now, I've never been the type to stay angry long or hold grudges. And, I used to wish I could but it's simply wasted energy. I could be off doing something fun and incredible.

Time spent with folks I care about feels more special. The relationship hasn't changed yet if feels different because I've changed. Going to visit my mother in the nursing home, let's be clear - it still makes me sad, I have a gazillion things I dreamed of doing with her. But I'm no longer beating myself up with guilt, moving her there was not easy but necessary. That's not to say I don't have bad days but when the negative track starts playing I recognize it immediately and get off. What do I do, you might ask? I may plank, I really do love them ;-)  Or, I may read aloud a prayer my roomie wrote for me. Or, I might call my Roomdog (Day 2) just to hear her voice, she has a great voice, it's rich and resonant. (sigh) She almost never sings but I really wish she would. Or I may simply be still (Day 19).

So today, 50% feels triumphant. For whatever it is I may do, think, feel or believe - everything feels  different even though nothing has changed except me.

So on Day 20 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for the change ... within me. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 19

Code Red. That means work is closed, it's a snow day! It means today is going to be filled with tasty treats, clearing off the DVR and good second sleep.

That's one thing about snow days. They are like God's way of making us still. Worried about that report you wanted to get out? Well, don't worry, you can send it out tomorrow. Worried that your meeting will be rescheduled? Don't, that too can wait. Worried about that salon appointment? Hmm, I hope they're open, we do like to look good even on snow days ;-) The bottom line is to not fill this day with worry, chores, catching up on work or continuing your bad attitude. Fill this day with something fun, free and fantastic.

What? It's been so long you don't know what to do? Catch up on the blog. I'm free all day, shoot me an email. I'd love to laugh with you today about all the silly things I've shared. That's what I'll spend some time doing today. Know what else I will do today? I'll be open to the possibility ... the possibility of finding yet another thing to be grateful for, the possibility of making this day incredible, the possibility of brightening someone's day with a call, email or text ... letting them know I'm thinking of them. I'll be enjoying that lemon cake I bought yesterday, I'll enjoy a fabulous breakfast, I'll watch the Bible on the History Channel, and I'll be spending some time gazing out of this here window. I will reserve today as a free day to think, do and feel better about any and everything.
 
Now, it's no snowmageddon out but it's pretty and peaceful. That's the kind of day to make this. Time to be still. Time to read your favorite book. Time to add music to your iPod. I know, there's a gazillion things to do around the house but let's all be in the 3rd grade (Day 9) together. Got the winter blues? Shake it off. Got clutter? Pack a few bags for goodwill, no organizing today just purging. Been mean, hateful and spiteful? Exercise. I'll do a few planks today because they make me feel strong. Home alone? No worries. Do all of those things you dream of doing if you were on vacation. Get in your favorite chair and relax - mimosas are on the breakfast menu. Married? Mad at your spouse? Roll over and apologize, life is too short to hold stupid, petty grudges - it wastes time and you could be off being grateful together. If that doesn't work, take off your shirt. C'mon are you with me - let's make today incredible.

I know, the grind will be back tomorrow but today we're all still. Brings to mind a bible verse, Psalm 46:10 'Be still and know that I am God...' What did I tell you? Snowdays are his way of making us still.

So on Day 19 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for snow days ... and being still. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 18

So, what do you do to alleviate stress? Me, I like to take my B out. He's short, smooth and dark - almost purple - strong and he loves to ride. Hey, let's keep it holy ;-)  Just in case you're wondering,  I'm talking about my bike, B. Yes, I named him - the 3rd grader in me never stops (Day 9). I bought my bike shortly after Whitney's untimely demise. Remember, I was no longer waiting to do anything so off I went to the bike store. And I needed something nice -- No  Huffys for me. Those things ride like death traps and remind me of that wooden roller coaster at Kings Dominion. You know the one that seems like a good idea until you actually ride it.

Now, just in case you don't know me personally, I'm not that tall - 4'9" to be exact. So, I needed something fancy that fit. I ended up with a Trek 7.2 and it set me back a small fortune but the moment I took it out for a ride, I knew it was perfect for me. It definitely met the cuteness factor but who knew a bike could ride like a caddy. I couldn't wait to take it out for a spin. My first few rides were exploratory - just around the neighborhood. I didn't want to venture out too far in the event I got tired. Next time out, I rode a little further. Within a month, I had made play dates to ride w/other folks. I rode with my Roomdog (Day 2), friends at work and solo. At first, I thought it was the camaraderie that made it fun. Or perhaps it was the uncrustables as a recovery treat?

But it didn't matter, I simply enjoyed riding. When I tell you riding made me feel ... it made me feel alive. It made the outdoors a little richer. I saw blue jays and cardinals. I noticed the trees as I rode by and it left me calmer. A bad day at work could be transformed in to a two-wheeled adventure by the time I got home. First, I had to put on my biking gear so that drivers could see me on the road but wearing those colors put me in a straight good mood and I hadn't even left the house. Next was my music - oh, yes one must have music to accompany any outdoor adventure.  No headphones for me, I have a fancy contraption that holds my iPhone. Turn up the volume and voila -- it's a party on wheels. You should see folks starting at me when I ride by blaring Anita Baker or Regina Belle.

You see bike riding for me was yet another metaphor for life. You start out close to home .. making your way ... exploring, wondering what's over the horizon. Yes, you're unsure of what you'll discover but you're willing to take the risk for the reward. Can you actually make it? Maybe, maybe not but what hidden treasures await you. You don't have to be a speed demon, just take it slow and steady.  When you get to a rough spot, you just hold on a little firmer to the handle bars, but you keep on pedaling. Sometimes you don't know where you'll end up or what you'll find but you'll feel accomplished for the attempt, you see the important thing is to try.

Now, using bike riding as a metaphor for life may not change your circumstance or even move you. But for me, it helps me to remember to always enjoy the ride.

So on Day 18 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for my bike, B. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 17

'I wanna go home.' Famous last words. Yesterday, I spent the day re-enacting the Women's Suffrage March when women traveled to DC to bring attention to 'voting rights for women' on March 3, 1913. That must have been some year, it is also the Centennial or 100 year anniversary for Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated, the Department of Labor was established as a Cabinet-Level Department and the Federal Reserve System became the central banking system of the United States. It is also the year Rosa Parks was born. [ASIDE: Funny that her statue was just unveiled at the US Capital, too.] Who knew?

Well, the mood was befitting. There were folks dressed in red and white all over the place. The energy level was high and folks were too excited - when I tell you the Deltas are pumped like a kid in a candy store - you have no idea. Marching was fun, folks were laughing, huddling up trying to stay warm and taking pictures but it was cold. And despite all the wonderful sentiments, by the end of the day all I could think was 'I wanna go home.'

At the march, I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen in a gazillion years. She didn't look so well and it made me a little sad. She's probably one of the smartest people I've ever met and hasn't quite figured out this thing called life. We hadn't actually talked or seen each other in years and it struck me odd that what I would remember about her - is that she moved a lot. Hmm, did she not ever have a home? I don't mean she grew up on the streets or in a shelter because she has family here but did she ever have a place she could call home?

'When I think of home, I think of a place where there's love overflowing' ... I listened to Stephanie Mills all the way home and I couldn't quite shake why that was heavy on my mind. Until, I actually hit the door. I came in, dropped my bags on the floor and sighed. Whew, it felt so good to be home. I stretched and took a deep breath. It felt warm, familiar, welcoming, peaceful and relaxing all at once. I could still smell bacon from yesterday's breakfast but it was all good. I went upstairs, hugged my roomie's neck, who was probably thinking she just left here yesterday. But she had no idea what was on my mind. I thought I've been lucky (no, there's no such thing as luck) - I've been blessed to have 'home' wherever I was. Whether I was away at college, graduate school or even that year when I sat out (of college) to find myself.

I grew up in Baltimore on McCulloh Street. Yup, that was home, it was no mansion but life was pretty good despite some family shenanigans - let's keep it real. But, my mother is a Christian women and raised us accordingly. Our chores were good grades and church. I'm not kidding - no church, no allowance. See how simple that is. I can remember coming home from college and running the streets as my grandmother used to say. And I don't care what time I came in, I was going to church in the morning. If I invited some friends over, trying to be slick to get out of going. You can best believe they were going to church too. And God help 'em because if all they had on the night before was a 'freak em' dress - they were going to be wearing that to service in the morning.

I have so many fond memories of that place on McCulloh street. At home, I learned that I had a voice. My mother grew up in a house where she wasn't allowed to talk back so it was very important to her that me and my sisters had a voice. We could most certainly discuss how we were feeling and why we didn't think something was fair. It didn't change anything but I learned how to communicate, that my feelings were important and I deserved to be heard.

2017 McCulloh Street

At home, I learned that church was important. We were to attend church and participate. This idea of taking a book or toy to church was out of the question - that's new school. You were expected to look alert, stand up, kneel down and sit. I was raised Episcopal, so you did a lot of all 3. I remember many days in church when my sisters, who were too young to read, held the hymnal upside down. Now, they couldn't read a lick but they knew they needed to look alert. And as a family, both me and my sister's received perfect attendance for Sunday school for years. 

At home, I learned that I was supposed to share what I learned at church. For Christmas eve before church, my mother would grab 'random neighborhood kids' off the block. I'm not kidding. Bring them into the house and we read the Christmas story out loud. It was so embarrassing at the time. The 'random neighborhood kids' got to pick who they wanted to be - Wisemen? Mary? Or Joseph? I'm not making this stuff up. 

At home, I learned to be generous. Our house looked like Sanford and Son. There was stuff everywhere. But I can remember, kids in the neighborhood coming by 'Ya mother got any coats?' Of course, she did. She even had varying sizes, matching scarfs and gloves. And if you let her know, you were going to need shoes - she would buy you some of those too. Needed a drum set? Ask Mrs. Toulson. Needed a clarinet? Yup, she had one.

At home, I learned to be kind to strangers. I can not tell you how many times my mother picked up folks. It drove me crazy. If we were coming from church and it was snowing - you can best believe if my mother say a lady walking with her kids, we were going to pick them up. We were expected to be gracious and engaging no matter how they looked or smelled. And we better hope and pray that they didn't mention being hungry because now a trip to the market was going to be on the program - sometimes it took forever to get home from church.

At home, I learned there were consequences. When I told my mother I was sitting out my second year in college. She didn't scream or anything. She simply said that she would not finance any activities if school wasn't involved. Yeah, right? When I tell you that year I sat out of school, my mother didn't give me a dime. I couldn't believe it - I mean nada, nothing, zilch.  Who does that?

At home, I learned it was acceptable to make mistakes. When I called home and explained that while finding myself, my roommate found herself pregnant and I found a renewed interest in finishing college. There was no lengthy lecture or screaming involved, she simply sent me a bus ticket home.

I could go on all night about home. How I've had folks all my life who've treated me as their own. Who loved me, watched over me and looked out for me. Who affirmed me, who told me I was smart and capable. Who made home for me wherever I was. When I was in college, my roommate's boyfriend's mother - yup, my roommate (the one who got pregnant), her boyfriend's mother couldn't get enough of me. She had me over on Sundays for dinner, fed me and washed my clothes.

Like I said, I've always had a home. Some place safe for me to go. Some sanctuary where I could unwind, shed off the day and lay my head. A place where I didn't worry if things would be alright, I simply knew they would be. A place filled with folks who cared for me and genuinely wanted the best for me. And now that I'm grown, I too would like to think I've created that in my home. A place where guests know that it's going to be alright. A place I try to fill with love, a little gratefulness, good energy and a prayer that the Lord, rest, rule and abide here.  I sure hope my friend finds a home soon.

So on this Day 17 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for home. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 16

Guess who shoes these are? Nope, they're not mine. They belong to the little cleaning ladies who come to my home twice a month. Why do I have a picture of their little shoes? Chalk that up to the 3rd grader in me. (Day 9) Their shoes are so little and I love how they just kick them off the moment they hit the door - like they're home. LOL. For the record, I do not have a maid, I have a cleaning lady. There is a difference. One is that the maid does everything - she washes clothes, cooks and even washes the dishes. When the cleaning lady comes - she cleans, period. She does the floors, dusts, sweeps, mops, vacuums, dumps the trash and she does the dreaded, bathrooms. Now, she could do the dishes but I don't like how she does them. First, I never know where she's going to put them when she finishes; every now and then I may catch a frying pan in the cabinet over the sink. And when she does do the dishes, they sparkle. How in the world does that happen? I'm convinced she's using some secret cleaning lady concotion and I'd rather have my dishes dull and squeaky clean like everyone else.

My roomie teases me all the time. She says the cleaning lady is in here drinking tasty drinks and rolling around in our beds because the house is already clean. When the cleaning lady comes, I do tend to get a little stressed - ok, that's a lie - I'm stressed! She can't clean properly if everything I wore this week is thrown on the floor. Or this week's mail is all over the kitchen counter. So for at least a day or two before she comes, I'm hopping. Washing clothes, folding them, washing the dishes, putting them away - now, for the record, I have hid dishes in the oven. What? I had a meeting and ran out of time. My friends, know too - 'Good grief, I forget about the cleaning lady, call me later.' Now, could I do these things myself - absolutely. But time is money and I'd rather spend my money paying  for her time.

Look at us getting it in. We do have a small language barrier ;-) but we communicate just fine. I do all the talking and she does all the smiling. She was a treat that I decided I deserved. I've had her almost a year. I know, I've mentioned it before but Whitney passing last year threw me into high gear. All of those things I had planned, dreamed, wanted or thought about doing ... I was going to be about doing them. Finishing that kitchen, organizing my office, purging unneeded items and let me tell you this blog is no different. I had casually talked about blogging because it sounded interesting but I killed it. (Day 6) But first on my list was getting neat and organized. And since I struggle with being neat, the cleaning lady was my way of keeping me accountable.

And let me tell you, there's nothing like coming home after she's been here. The place is sparkling, smells lemony fresh and looks oh so pretty. I mean it puts me in a straight good mood. In fact, I'm convinced that getting organized, being neat and purging unneeded items freed up space in my life for other things. No, I'm serious - what I created here in my home made room in my life for so many other things. I didn't change over night because I've always been me. I've always had whatever it is that I have. But, I'm like Cel on steroids. Rockstar, make it incredible, living intentionally in the moment, searching for joy, forever in the 3rd grade. You get it, right?

By creating this space in my life and filling it with good things, I'm now in a space where I know how to 'choose gratefulness.' I now exercise semi-regularly and I even enjoy it. I go to church more, read the bible more, I'm working on the potty mouth ;-) and I believe I may even be a better woman. Aah, if only I could shout. Not new and different, just Cel, exposed. I now blog - which is incredible - and you can't know what its been like. Let me tell you, here's the last entry in my journal.

"Hey you! It's Valentine's Day and it's going to be a good day. Started my first blog yesterday and I'm pumped - haha- could it be a budding author in your midst - you do know your talking to yourself here, right. I hope it's as rewarding as it feels so far - ok, it's the first day but we'll see - gotta go, the cleaning lady may be here soon!"

So on this Day 16 of 40 days of gratefulness, I'm grateful for freeing up space in my life for good things and ... my cleaning lady.

40 Days of Gratefulness - Day 15

Last Sunday, I visited the Changing America exhibit at the Smithsonian National Museum of America History. While the exhibit is being displayed there, it is sponsored by the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture which is under construction and scheduled to open on the mall in 2015.

Well, let me tell you the exhibit is astounding. It's really a comparative glimpse at events that occurred in 1863 surrounding the Emancipation Proclamation and those events in 1963 surrounding the March on Washington, with each era having its own side. It highlighted that while African American slaves were emancipated in 1863, 100 years later our country was still struggling with racism. The 1863 exhibit was very well done - the lighting was subdued - almost somber, which seemed to extend the viewers immersion into the exhibit. There were newspaper clippings from uprisings, shackles that were used, bill of sales for slaves, weapons that were used during slave revolts and a particularly riveting photo of a soldier. He was now free, per the Emancipation Proclamation, and had joined the Union Army. He was bare from the waist up and his back was covered in keloids and scars from years of being brutally whipped. I vaguely remember an older woman gasp as she looked away from the photograph. If memory serves me correctly, it was in sepia tones and drew a sharp contrast to a tuxedo that Abraham Lincoln had worn. The exhibit left me a little sorrowful for folks who lived during those times.

In the 1963, March on Washington exhibit, there were pictures of The "Big Six." These were the six (6) gentlemen who organized the March. The picture was of several men -- they were proud, smiling, well-groomed - eluding confidence and hope. Could they have known what was to come? There was an official poster, who knew? The video of the speeches made on that day was playing and Joan Baez' guitar was displayed (she sang during the March). Despite the fact that some 100 years later in 1963, as a country, we were still stuck in racist attitudes, the mood on this side of the exhibit was different - here I left feeling hopeful and excited.

Now, I must admit I was in the full swing of this being grateful thing but something felt different. It wasn't so quiet here, folks had started to talk a little louder, were more engaged and it seemed to be more young people around. As I stood outside the exhibit (I look really little there) - I considered our history. I thought about the sacrifices that folks have made on my behalf. That people died, so I could walk freely. That people marched, so I could vote. That people gave their lives in serving the greater good despite adversity and danger. These are folks who didn't know me -- yet they stood on my behalf.

That really has me going - all of those people who stood in the gap - follow with me here. What? Only heard that with respect to praying? You think they weren't praying on our behalf every step of the way? You know who they are - the Dr. Martin Luther Kings, the Rosa Parks, the Dorothy Heights, the Medgar Evers. Those people who lives still inspire us each and every day.  Those people who leave me wanting to make a difference - wanting to be encouraging - wanting to be affirming - wanting to be grateful for every sacrifice that someone made on my behalf.

Jump forward some 50 years, it's 2013 and guess what - there's still folks working on my behalf. Of course the First Family in the White House is working on our behalf each and every day. God bless 'em. My pastor, Dr. H. Beecher Hicks, Jr. (shameless plug for my church, Metropolitan Baptist Church) works on my behalf. Look around you - folks are working on your behalf. C'mon now. Who inspires you? What? You think folks have to be born in the 60s or even have to be from the south to work on your behalf. I can think of one young lady, who just happens to be my friend - who had a great idea, ran with it and is working on my behalf, Eunique Jones.

You have got to meet this young lady, to get the fullness of who she is and what she stands for.  I tell her all the time, 'I can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for you.' While I could go on all day about her, cuz I just love her to the moon and back, I will not. I will simply leave you with this quote from her website and a sampling of her work.

"As a motivational speaker and a photographer, I recently realized that my lens can also be my microphone.  For Black History Month, I wanted to create a campaign that would empower and excite young people about their history and their future in a creative and yet relatable way.  I thought about my two sons and how they were both born during President Barack Obama's election and re-election. How awesome is that?! From there, I began to think about all of the individuals, past and current, who have and/or continue to blaze new trails and pave the way for the future.  Because of Them, We Can."

So on this Day 15 of 40 days of gratefulness, I am grateful for all those who stood and are standing on my behalf. #beblessed #40daysofgratefulness