Family Matters... Always!

Recently, I received an anonymous blog comment from a relative, which unnerved me a little for two reasons. First, I’m pretty candid about family matters, recounting events as I witnessed them or as they were told to me. I can never be sure how someone is going to react to seeing family laundry flapping in the breeze. The second reason is I still haven’t identified the person who left the comment. I am able to ascertain that the commenter is female and the spouse of a second cousin, but that doesn’t necessarily narrow the field. I have quite a few married second cousins.

By process of elimination I can cross off the grandsons of the women in the photograph, leaving me to consider the descendents of my aunts; Zora, Iola, or Beulah and uncles, Lester or Joe. I can most likely cross off the grandchildren of Uncle Joe also. I don't recall them attending reunions and can only remember seeing Uncle Joe at one. He was actually my grandmother's half-brother, fathered by Frank Robinson with his second wife, Zellene, but I digress.

The point is someone in the family is reading New Growth and I'm feeling some type of way, like perhaps I should filter or tone down the family drama even more than I already have. I don't want to offend any of my kinfolk, but I should be able to tell my story too. Thankfully, the comment left was affirming, giving credibility to the entry and offering another perspective of the people I write about. It was definitely left by one of my sweeter cousins.

My money is on Raphael’s wife, Judy or Ron’s wife, Pam. They’ve both been to reunions and can easily identify the women photographed. Both also know their way around a computer. Still, I can’t completely rule out the wives of Bruce, Donnell, Elton, Kurt, Sati, Shaw, Simon, Steve or Tyrone. I might also include Marcus. Even though his grandmother is in the photo, she is standing in bad light, making her hard to recognize. That propels Elizabeth into the pool of possible commentators. Honestly, it could be someone I don't even know. New family members materialize every day, literally. I have a relative who used to introduce his grown, illegitimate children at family funerals.

Okay... I'm over it.

If I was really concerned about ruffling family feathers I wouldn't have let that last piece of information fly so casually. If folks get twisted over what is past, that's not my issue. I'm proud of my family, flaws and all. Truth is families are seldom perfect and all have drama. Folks who are saved today, were fornicators and whoremongers yesterday. The key is to remember where you've been so you can see where you're going.

I believe it's important for our ancestors to be portrayed as they were. Once people have been dead a while, folks begin to romanticize the dearly departed. They remember sweet and generous Uncle Lucious after he got old, but they stop talking about how young Lucious used to whip Aunt Ethel's ass and take the money she made ironing whitefolks clothes to buy moonshine.

We need to know that people go through things and come out better on the other side.

We must be able to celebrate the fortitude of the people who came before us to let us know what we're made of and that we have the strength to endure. That is why I am pleased to announce the publication of Our Black Fathers: Brave, Bold & Beautiful, featuring my story, A Tailored Life, just in time for Fathers Day. I've also received confirmation of a Christmas release of my own collection of short stories, based on the colorful, colored folks I call family.

Much thanks go out to the editors for choosing to include my work, to Alfred Edmond, Editor-in-chief of Black Enterprise for bringing the opportunity to my attention, Cathy Blackburn for constant encouragement and to the people, living and dead, who breathe life into my characters.

I will be promoting Our Black Fathers and signing copies at Juneteenth, an urban arts festival in Long Branch, New Jersey that will also feature the work of my friend, Gilda Rogers and my cousin, Leslie Morris.