America 250

 

Merriam-Webster defines independence as, “the state of being free from the control, influence, or support of others. It is the ability to make your own decisions, govern yourself, and take care of your own needs”. It encompasses personal independence, political independence, and independence of mind.

Independence Day, also known as the 4^th of July, is an American holiday commemorating America gaining independence from Great Britain in 1776. Today marks 250 years of that independence. Tones of freedom ring loudly in the celebration of the holiday.

Freedom is the foundation of The Declaration of Independence, the historic document commemorating the day asserting that all people have natural rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Thomas Jefferson writes this celebrated document as he enslaves Black people, impregnating a minor Sally Hemings. The hypocrisy…

Enter Frederick Douglass...  

On July 5, 1852, Mr. Douglass, a self-emancipated Black man through escape from slavery, is invited by the Rochester Ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society, to offer an address in honor of America’s Independence Day. Per usual, he rose to the occasion in grand style and delivered one of his most memorable and powerful speeches, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?”, wherein he challenged the hypocrisy of a nation espousing liberty and freedom as core values while enslaving Black people.

Although not aware of Mr. Douglass’ speech for most of my life, as it was not taught in American schools, the hypocrisy he so eloquently described has always been rooted in my soul. Always, I have felt conflicted about this holiday of “independence” that America goes all out for. It has simply always been paid time off to spend with family and friends. I, too, questioned what exactly we were celebrating? Freedom? Independence? Whose freedom? Whose independence? Aren’t we still having the same conversations in 2026 that Mr. Douglass raised for debate in the 1800s, the humanity and citizenship of Black Americans? So, tell me again, what are we celebrating?

Celebrating Independence Day has always been a challenge for me and, I think, many Black Americans. Cause for celebration of the holiday this year, however, is heightened in that it marks 250 years of America’s freedom, the self-proclaimed global example and blueprint of democracy to be revered and modeled by all. I remember questioning all the hoopla even as a teen in 1976, the exaggerated celebration felt hypocritical.

This milestone celebration of 250 years, however, is different.

 In 1976 all the stops were pulled out for the bicentennial. The nation excitedly prepared for this celebration, months, if not years, in advance of the actual day. There were military parades, profound speeches were prepared and delivered, a commemorative coin was coined, extraordinary fireworks and grand community celebrations were had. We were inundated with everything red, white, and blue.

This year, the mood is very different. I am even further removed from there being a holiday such that, when I walked into my gym last week, I asked, what’s up with the red, white, and blue? Seriously, I am totally checked out. The lack of national excitement or enthusiasm for celebration of the 250^th year of America’s independence allows one to be checked out.

Collectively, We The People are a functionally depressed nation, going through the motions, tolerating or managing what feels like the worst of times, certainly not a time of celebration. Each day we awake to another day of WTF did he do while we slept.  Many are fleeing the country or considering it. It’s exhausting…

Didn’t we resolve this in 2020? How did we get here again? America MUST examine herself and seriously ponder the consideration of answers to that question. I digress...

The nation is under siege from within. Instead of being internationally celebrated for 250 years of model democracy, freedom, and independence, the US is being ridiculed and shunned for slipping into a place of darkness in pursuit of recreating the ugliest and gravest of her original sins. She wants her property back. You too, white women…

The white house, turned cheap, gawdy gold, has been turned into a circus and junk yard combined as one. The reflecting pool is now a cesspool filled with algae. Foreign leaders are being kidnapped and brought to the US to be tried for crimes against their nation, as crimes and corruption is being actively and openly practiced by “leaders”, themselves convicted, at the very helm of this nation. The hypocrisy…

Innocent fisherman and children in school are being bombed just because…   

Americans are losing basic freedoms we have come to take for granted. While we were preoccupied and distracted with interpretation and adherence to the 2^nd Amendment right to bear arms, our 1^st Amendment rights to free speech, free press, right to assemble, right to privacy, and such, were being dismantled. Education, healthcare, and welfare systems are being demolished. People who failed to vote or who voted in the interest of harm to others but not to themselves, are 'finding out' as harm knocks on their door…

We The People, are truly unrepresented. So, tell me again, what are we celebrating?   

A friend summed it up this morning with his Facebook post, “It feels weird to celebrate our independence, when it’s pretty clear we’re losing it”.  Some of us have never truly had it…      

Merriam-Webster defines subjugation as the act of bringing people, a territory, or a group under    complete control and forced submission. It involves one dominant party taking away the freedoms, sovereignty, or rights of another, often through conquest, oppressive rule, or systemic power imbalances.

We are at a crossroad folks. Which way will we turn?

 

Miss Higgi Says, Happy Subjugation Day? 🤷🏾

A Serious Question

A serious question y'all, why the disparity in how we honor Black fathers as opposed to Black mothers? 🤷🏾

On Sunday I hosted a gathering to celebrate Black Fathers. It was the smallest crowd that I've ever had on any of my calls, less than 20 people showed up. ZERO Black men showed up. One did text a regret as he'd gotten a last minute birthday dinner invitation. Happy Birthday Friend!!! Otherwise, no men... 

It left me with so many questions.

Did people not show up because they don't feel Black fathers are worthy of celebration? Do bad daddy stories overshadow good daddy stories? 🤷🏾

Black men complain all the time that Black mothers are held in higher regard. Still, even they didn't show up to be celebrated or to celebrate themselves.

I would like to think that people were not available because they were spending quality time with dear old dad. Not so sure... 

In speaking with a friend yesterday morning, she shared that her pastor expressed from the pulpit his disappointment in the disparity of how we celebrate Mothers and Fathers on their special day. He noted that when he called XYZ restaurant expecting not to be able to get a reservation on Father's Day, given such short notice, he was told to come on down. He didn't need a reservation. There was plenty of room. On Mother's Day at XYZ restaurant, one had to have made the reservation at least a month in advance. He pondered why not the same for Father's Day.

Interesting, right? 

So why didn't Black folks show up on Sunday to celebrate Black fathers with When Black Women Gather? As on Mother's Day, I wasn't expecting a large turnout. But almost no turnout? I wasn't expecting that...

Thank you to those ladies who did show up. Your stories were inspiring. Keep telling them...

It's a serious question y'all. Something has gone awry in our community.  We see it, we know it all too well. More importantly,  however, we know that we MUST address it.

Concerned that some people might have felt conflicted about "celebrating Black Fathers" because they didn't have a positive story to tell, I expanded the celebration beyond fathers to include brothers, sons, mentors, even historic or public Black male figures they admire, any Black male who has inspired or encouraged them. Still, they didn't show up... 🤷🏾

Let me be clear that when I host gatherings in celebration of Black mothers, invariably there are daughters who tell me they did not have a positive experience with their mother. So, the hurt and disappointment goes both ways. Overwhelmingly, however, bad Mom or not, the celebration of Black mothers far exceeds that of Black fathers.

This year, almost without exception, I made a special effort to acknowledge all the men in my phone for Father's Day with a text message of the image below, even some with whom I no longer communicate. My wanting Black men in my life especially, to know they are seen, loved, and cared about, superseded personal differences. Most responded thanking me for thinking of them. Sadly, one friend responded that mine was the only greeting he received. He has children. 👀 Again, the hurt goes both ways...

I had gathered positive statistics to share during our gathering to celebrate Black fathers. Black fathers are much more involved and present in their children's lives than is acknowledged, even more than other men, but that's not the story we hear. Instead, we are overwhelmed with the negative. Gatherings such as mine, are essential for our collective soul. Itbis imperative that we tell our own stories. Black children must witness, hear, live, and experience our stories. Our children are our future and were welcome at this event...

I wanted to open with a poem, short story, or short video created by a Black contributor paying positive tribute to Black fathers. I must say finding such accolades was, sadly, quite the challenge. That's a problem y'all...

Years ago, in honor and respect of Black men who are holding it down, I stopped wishing Black women Happy Father's Day. I recognize that women, although sometimes forced to play both roles, cannot replace fathers in our lives. So, let us value and encourage them.

Please share, if you're open to it, what you think might have been the issue on Sunday. Maybe the sun was shining all around the United States, although my email list includes international participants, and people just had better things to do. I accept that too. I'm just curious...

Share too, if you don't mind, another topic you'd like to explore in gatherings of Black men and women. What do we want to know about one another and/or our experience of or relationships with the other?  

My Black male cousin shared the link below for a positive Black Father movie currently playing on Netflix, Color Book. I haven't seen the movie yet, but the trailer looks inspiring. Check it out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPEmz5sBjwM

Thank you for indulging my question. Why the disparity and how do we overcome it? I love me some us and will always do my part to encourage that we heal, love, encourage, and honor one another.

FYI, I will not host a Gathering for the next two weeks as I will be away on a special journey of my own. I'll see you again on July 12th.

Take care of one another. We are all we've got and WE ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH! 

 In the Forever Spirit of Unity in Our Community, 

~ Miss Higgi 

Happy Father's Day!!!

 

Breaking Chains on Juneteenth

Happy Juneteenth everyone! 

I think it so appropriate that the Obamas had their celebration yesterday, a day ahead of Juneteenth, and a few weeks before the hypocrisy we're supposed to celebrate in July marking America's 250th anniversary. No thank you, very much. Tell me again, what exactly are we celebrating?

Yesterday reminded me of the value of Black folks to this country. There is no America without Black people. We built this nation physically and otherwise, we are the moral compass of this nation, we are the fiber and the talent and the rhythm of this nation, we are the magnet bringing folks together. There is no America of worth without us. The Obama's reminded us of that yesterday in their own subtle way. 

Despite being preyed upon, dehumanized, and the object of monumental traumatizing challenges that most others could never have endured, we survived....

I am so proud of Black people. There is no other person that I would want to be in this whole wide world. Not ever. I want all Black people to share my pride, to feel that way. Break whatever chains that remain on your mind telling you that you're not good enough. We are more than good enough! Oh, yes we are!

What is it that they say, free your mind and your body will follow? Your body is free, allow your mind to follow. 

Anyway, have a great Juneteenth everyone! Do something special in honor of Black folks everywhere. If nothing more, be still and have an intentional talk with the Ancestors just to be reminded...

~ Miss Higgi Says, Break the Chains

Celebrate Back Women ~ Loretta June Ross

She was eleven years old when a stranger attacked her on her way home from a Girl Scout meeting.


She did not talk about it. There was no framework for talking about it — no language, no resources, no adult in her world who had been taught how to receive that kind of disclosure from a Black girl in Texas in the early 1960s. She buried it and kept moving, the way children taught to be strong learn to bury things, and for three years she carried it alone while the world she lived in continued to expect her to excel.

She excelled anyway.


Loretta June Ross was born on August 16, 1953, in Temple, Texas, the sixth of eight children in a blended family. Her father, Alexander, had immigrated from Jamaica as a boy and become an Army weapons specialist and drill sergeant — a man shaped by discipline and expectation. 

Her mother Lorene was a Texas native who managed a household that moved frequently, following military assignments, until the family settled in Texas permanently. Loretta grew up understanding that education was not a suggestion. It was the only reliable ladder out, and she intended to climb it.


She skipped grades. She joined the honors track. She was the kind of student who made counselors sit up and pay attention — and one counselor did more than pay attention. He identified a scholarship to the Radcliffe Institute at Harvard University and pursued it on her behalf. The scholarship was won. The future was mapped. Loretta Ross, a Black girl from Temple, Texas, was going to Harvard.


Then, at fourteen, a distant relative assaulted her.


The pregnancy it produced was not something Loretta could hide or defer or manage quietly. Abortion was illegal in Texas in 1969. She moved into a Salvation Army home for unwed mothers and gave birth to a son in April 1969. She named him Howard Michael Ross, borrowing the middle names of her two favorite brothers in a hurry, because she had never truly planned to keep him.


She kept him.


The scholarship evaporated the moment she chose her son over the conditions attached to it. The high school she had attended — the same school whose counselor had fought for her Harvard future — refused to readmit her. She was a mother now. Mothers did not belong in high school. She was fifteen years old and the system that had celebrated her intelligence had decided, in a single administrative ruling, that her circumstances had made her someone else's problem.


She was not someone else's problem.
She rebuilt. She found her way to Howard University in Washington, D.C. in 1970 — a historically Black institution that admitted her when Radcliffe, upon learning about Howard's existence, quietly withdrew its welcome. At Howard, she declared majors in chemistry and physics and immediately found herself pulled toward something larger than the laboratory. She became the tenant association president in her building. She joined a Marxist-Leninist study group. She connected with the anti-apartheid movement, with Black nationalist politics, with the particular electricity of a campus full of young Black people who understood, in their bones, that the personal and the political were not separate categories.


She was tear-gassed at a demonstration at sixteen. She considered it an education.
At twenty-three, Howard University's health clinic gave her a Dalkon Shield — an intrauterine contraceptive device that had been marketed to doctors despite internal company knowledge that it was defective. The device caused a severe infection that went misdiagnosed. By the time it was correctly identified and treated, the damage was permanent. Loretta Ross was sterilized at twenty-three by a medical device that should never have been on the market.


She sued the manufacturer, A.H. Robins. She won. When a class-action lawsuit followed and her case drew wider attention, she recognized something that would shape the rest of her working life: that what had happened to her was not an isolated medical tragedy. It was a pattern. Black women, low-income women, women of color were having their reproductive choices made for them — by assault, by illegal abortion access, by defective medical devices, by laws that controlled their bodies without consulting their lives.


The framework she had been living inside all along finally had a name she was beginning to reach toward.


In 1979, she became director of the DC Rape Crisis Center — the only rape crisis center in the country run primarily by and for women of color. She was the first Black woman to hold that role. She ran it for years, building it into an institution, and in 1980 organized the first National Conference on Third World Women and Violence — the first time Black, Latina, Asian, and Native American women working in rape crisis centers across the country had ever convened in one room, collectively, to name what they were dealing with and demand that the movement start dealing with it too.


The mainstream women's movement of the 1980s was, by and large, a movement run by and for white women of relative economic means. Its central preoccupation was abortion rights — specifically, the right to not have a child. The framework was narrow in ways that Loretta and her colleagues could not ignore: it said nothing about the right to have a child, which was being systematically denied to poor women and women of color through forced sterilization and coercive medical practice. It said nothing about the right to parent children in safe conditions — in housing that wasn't condemned, in neighborhoods that weren't poisoned, in a country that provided health care and education.

The pro-choice framework protected one choice. The women Loretta worked with needed all of them.


In July 1994, Loretta Ross sat in a hotel room in Chicago with eleven other Black women during a break from a conference on welfare reform. They had been watching a debate about abortion rights that felt, to all of them, like a conversation happening in another language — a language that acknowledged women's bodies but not women's lives. They pulled out a legal pad. They began writing.


The phrase they arrived at was two words: reproductive justice.


It was not a slogan. It was a framework — a complete reconception of what reproductive rights meant when you centered the women the mainstream movement had left out. The right to have a child. The right to not have a child. The right to parent children in safe and healthy environments. These three principles, together, constituted the framework — rooted in human rights language rather than the narrower legal vocabulary of choice, and explicitly connected to the economic, racial, and environmental conditions that determined whether those rights were real or theoretical for any particular woman.


The framework spread. It became foundational to an entire movement. It shaped legislation, academic programs, legal arguments, and the work of organizations across the country that had been waiting, without knowing it, for exactly this language.


In 1997, Loretta co-founded SisterSong — the Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective — a national network connecting Native American, Latina, African American, and Asian American women's organizations around the shared framework she had helped build. She served as its national coordinator from 2005 to 2012.


On April 25, 2004, she co-directed the March for Women's Lives in Washington, D.C. — 1.15 million people in the streets of the capital, the largest protest march in American history at that time. She had organized delegations from across the country, built coalitions across racial and ideological lines, and turned out more bodies than any march before it.


She kept teaching, kept writing, kept showing up. Three books on reproductive justice. A course on white supremacy and human rights. A practice she developed and named "calling in" — the idea that lasting change required bringing people into conversation rather than simply shutting them out, that accountability and compassion were not opposites.


In 2022, the MacArthur Foundation awarded her a "Genius" Fellowship — one of the most prestigious recognitions in American intellectual and creative life. She was sixty-nine years old. She had been doing this work for fifty years.

The Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade that same summer.

Her phone started buzzing the moment the decision came down. Friends, colleagues, journalists, people who needed to know how she was holding up — how a woman who had built her life around this fight was receiving its apparent defeat.


She picked up the phone. She kept talking.
She had been eleven years old on a sidewalk in Texas when the world first demonstrated what it intended to do with her body. She had been fifteen when a system designed to reward her excellence decided her circumstances disqualified her instead. She had been twenty-three when a defective medical device made the choice for her that no one should ever have made without her consent.


She had spent fifty years making sure no woman faced those moments alone — and making sure that the movement fighting back was big enough, honest enough, and complete enough to actually win.


She is still making sure.


Source: Armed Stories, Facebook (Story & Photo)

80 Years Wasted...

 

What a Waste...

Today marks 80 years of breathing for the guy occupying the White House. What a wasted 80 years of good breath and life better deserved by someone else.

What a waste...

He symbolizes all that is bad. He is evil, vile, criminal, corrupt, void of humanity, morally bankrupt, filled with hate, anger, insecurities, and rage and sadly, more breaths to take.

He lives to harm others. He thrives on the pain and suffering he creates. He is fueled by the disdain and ill regard held for him. It empowers him.

What a waste.... 

He represents nothing good. He has never known love, given love, nor received love. His "L" word is loyalty and that is one-sided. He demands much and gives nothing in return. 

What a waste...

I look at him and I think of all the good people who have gone before him whose loved ones would do anything to have them back. For whatever reason he has known longevity. His life has been spared. He still walks amongst us and seems to think his mission in life, especially as POTUS, is to inflict pain and do harm to others. 

What a waste...

There is not one good thing to say about his 80 years of breathing. Not one. Do tell if I am mistaken.

Miss Higgi Says, What a waste...

FN: Dear God, please hear us. Let not our prayers be wasted today. All heads bowed. Repeat after me. May there be tumultuous lightening and torrential rain contained to a certain address in DC just in time for a circus event scheduled to cheapen the nation and further humiliate its citizens today.

Please Lord, answer this and our many other prayers. In God's name we pray. Inshallah. 🙏🏿

Our Ice Is Cold Enough

I asked Chat GPT who were the attorneys for young Karmelo Anthony. Then I asked who was white and who was Black. What do you think Chat said? 👀

Yes, this prominent Black family, reportedly of means, replaced Black attorneys with white attorneys, resulting in their young Black son being convicted and sentenced to 35 years in a matter of hours. Sounds like a classic case of the ice is colder syndrome. SMH...

When those white attorneys look at that dead white boy they see themselves, as does the judge, the prosecutor, and the all-white jury from which three potential Black jurors were stricken. 

When Black civil rights attorneys who know their history look at an innocent, well-to-do, well behaved, Black boy with a bright future, they see themselves and a shit-load of previous clients railroaded by an unjust legal system based on race. They are motivated to fight for the client who, but for the grace of God, there go they or their loved ones.

Black jurors are routinely rejected in favor of white jurors which says a lot about integrity. If the belief is that white jurors will rule in favor of the prosecution, no matter the evidence, the inference is that Black jurors will fairly weigh the evidence no matter the parties. Fair minded and thinking jurors do not guarantee the prosecution a victory starting on third base. They have to run the bases and prove their case to win. 

Black folks on juries increase the probability that fewer innocent people are incarcerated for something they didn't do or wasn't proven. Fewer field hands, Black bodies, are supplied to prison yards for free labor on the new plantation. 

Black folks please stop running from jury duty. They want to strike you from service. Don't help them. We have no control over who gets arrested, what they get charged with, if they get bail, and other pre-trial procedures, but we can have a role in determination of guilt or innocence. 

As a juror, we do have the ability to make the prosecution fight for a victory. It takes but one voice in that jury room to bring balance and truth to a system claiming to pursue liberty of justice for all. Be the voice. Consider jury duty your civic duty.

When you can afford to do so, hire your legal representation accordingly. You want to hire the person who has a track record and who is going to fight most zealously to prove your innocence. Hindsight is 20/20 but in this redneck, good ole' boys situation, this outcome, absent a zealous fight, seemed predictable.

My heart bleeds for young Karmelo. He just lost his life for defending himself against white bullies who, unlike him, did not have a promising future. But they were white, that's all that mattered. 

The more things changed the more they stay the same. 

Miss Higgi Asks, when will Black folks learn that our ice is cold enough? Our minds are warped such that we are conditioned to bet against one another, which is tragic, just tragic...

Prayers for Karmelo convicted for defending himself. May there be grounds for an appeal. 🙏🏿

 

Chat GPT said:

Dallas criminal defense attorney Mike Howard served as the lead defense counsel for Karmelo Anthony in his Collin County murder trial. He was assisted on the defense team by attorney Toby Shook.

Prior to retaining Mike Howard, Anthony was initially represented by attorneys Billy Clark and Kim T. Cole.

Billy Clark: The official State Bar of Texas profile for The Clark Law Firm, PLLC explicitly registers the practice as a Black-owned, veteran-owned, and disabled-owned business. He is also a member of ⁠Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc., the first intercollegiate Greek-letter fraternity established for African American men.

Kim T. Cole: She is a prominent Black female civil rights and criminal defense attorney in the Dallas-Fort Worth area who frequently handles high-profile discrimination, civil rights, and ⁠wrongful death cases impacting the Black community.

Mike Howard: He is a white criminal defense lawyer who operates the ⁠Law Office of Mike Howard, PLLC in Dallas. He began his legal career as a public defender before transitioning into private practice.

Toby Shook: He is a prominent white veteran trial attorney based in Dallas. He spent more than two decades as a high-profile prosecutor with the Dallas County District Attorney's Office before entering private practice, where he has defended several high-profile clients in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

Our Sweet, Sweet Babies...

So, what is it they say about history repeating itself? How many of our babies must we lose? 

Yesterday an Asian shopkeeper in SC was found not guilty of murdering a Black boy. The same thing happened in Los Angeles in 1991 with a Korean shopkeeper. Same scenario. Same verdict, Not Guilty...

In Columbia, SC, Cyrus Carmack-Belton, a 15-year-old Black boy, was chased down and murdered in cold blood by an Asian merchant who claimed he thought the baby was stealing a bottle of water. His murderer walks...

Latasha Harlins, a 14-year-old Black girl, was murdered in cold blood in 1991 by a female Korean shopkeeper in Los Angeles who claimed she thought the little girl was stealing an orange juice. The baby had the money for the orange juice in her hand when she was murdered. The courts allowed her murderer to walk too...

The Asian community, which was used as plaintiffs in a legal matter dismantling hard won civil rights gains of the Black community affording equal access for everyone, including Asians, to institutions of higher education, got a bill of protection written in their interest based on a narrative of  fear of Black violence against them... 👀 Where's the body count?

Anti-Black racism is rampant, violence against the Black community is on the rise, to include missing persons and a renewed fascination with lynchings, one of America's favorite pastimes, and yet another Black child is murdered in cold blood with blessings from the court. Instead of a bill of protection or public outrage, the Black community loses another of our hard won civil rights, voter representation. There is rarely a peep and the beat goes on...

It's exhausting y'all. Just exhausting...

Condolences to the families of our slain children;

Cyrus Carmack-Belton🙏🏿

Latasha Harlins 🙏🏿

Miss Higgi Says, violence against children is never acceptable. May ALL of our dear sweet babies, too many to count, rest in eternal peace. 🙏🏿

 

Click here for the article.

June Is Gemini Month

 

First of all I can't believe it's June. Already, half the year is gone. I know I keep asking the same question, but where does the time go? Father Time please slow down the clock just a little bit. Please...

It's June y'all and June is Gemini Month!

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about how when we were young the zodiac was everything. We had stereotypes for each sign, Gemini's were smart, Scorpios were sex freaks, Leo's were conceited, Taurus was stubborn. All these things we believed. We were influenced about who we dated or who we were compatible with based on zodiac signs. LOL!!!

I don't think we knew much about astrology or the zodiac but we certainly projected our lives by it. Do you remember looking at the newspaper everyday to see what your horoscope was for the day? So, we were all having the same day just because we shared the same zodiac sign? Yeah, OK...

Some folks took it real serious and got their charts done, read the stars, followed the moon, and all that stuff. The rest of us I think it was just in fun. It faded over time. It was something to do. It was a conversation piece, an ice breaker, if you will. "What sign are you?", she asked, as she batted her big, flirtatious eyes and flashed a smiled at him. He smiled back, and they were dating! LOL!

Anyway, Happy Birthday to my fellow Gemini Twins. You are smart, you are friendly, you bore easily, and commitment? 👀, well that's a thing... (smile).

I will be 66 next week and I can't believe that either...

Happy Monday y'all!

Did You Know?

You know the orange braggard occupying what's left of the White House that he hasn't yet defaced or demolished, the guy who loves to talk about himself and how brilliant and superior he is in comparison to all "low IQ" others, people therefore inferior to him... Well, did you know that in 1968 he graduated from Wharton, one of the top business schools in the country? Yet, he doesn't talk about it and either do they... 👀

Tell me when has a school who produced an alumni of such prominence, stature, and leadership, not talked about it... When has that ever happened before? LOL!

Has anybody been on University of Pennsylvania campus lately? Is there even a picture of him in the bathroom, much less in the foyer, at the Wharton School of Business? That's what the other schools do.

If you visit Yale or Harvard, you're going to see portraits of presidents, supreme court justices, and other distinguished alumni hanging on the walls telling the story of that school. They are bragging! They are proud! So tell me, is there a picture of the orange guy anywhere at Penn, even on a crumpled flyer? LOL!

Not even the self-proclaimed braggadocious genius occupying the White House reminds us of his Ivy League brilliance.

Miss Higgi Says, Hmmmm, I wonder why... 🤔

So, What Are We Celebrating 250? 👀

 

Is anybody else struggling with this 250 celebration thing? Not only are the celebrities dropping out, they were never checking in, as are, I'm assuming, many of the rest of us. 

Celebrating the 4th of July has always been a struggle ideologically for many in the Black community, something to do with hypocrisy 👀...

I remember during the summer before my first year of law school, going through a program at a major law firm in Washington, DC. It was just before the holiday when a partner came in to address a group of mostly non-white students. He shared with us copies of the Declaration of Independence. With absolute glee and unmistakable pride, he explained that in his household, faithfully, every year on the 4th of July, they gather as a family to read that great document. Talk about not reading the room or knowing your audience. 🤦🏾 It was painful...

I'm sorry, I digress. That memory of July 4 is forever embedded in my recall...

I imagine that this year, 2026, many others in the nation are feeling conflicted about celebrating what should be a commemorative and historic event. Given the nation's current state of affairs, the notion of celebrating Independence and Freedom likely presents a hell of a struggle for many "good Americans" across the nation...

Tell me again, what are we celebrating? 

A celebration of what? For what? Of whom? 🤷🏾

We are in the midst of witnessing whatever was created in those 250 years, good, bad, ugly, and indifferent, being intentionally destroyed by an anti-American regime, posturing as government, hellbent on an obvious mission to destroy the country as we sit by doing mostly nothing to stop it, but are somehow expected to show up and join in celebration. Again, celebration of what? 

In the spirit of the great Frederick Douglas who posed the question, What to the Slave, which has expanded to include the rest of y'all, is the 4th of July? The holiday, especially in 2026, has no meaning...

Miss Higgi Says, Happy Juneteenth! Stay Home on The 4th of July and celebrate real heroes and martyrs, visit www.martyrsday.us to see how. 

Boycott 250!

A Necessary Inconvenience

I remember when flying was something to look forward to. You could get on the airplane, have a nice meal, eat, read, or fall asleep in a comfortable seat and get to your destination full of excitement and anticipation, free of hassle or inconvenience. Those days are gone. Flying has become a necessary inconvenience...

There were no crazy fees, no long lines, no taking off your shoes and throwing away your water bottles and expensive toiletries that exceeded some nebulous 4 ounce quantity. None of that! We could get on the plane and just go! People used to actually go to the airport without a flight to just sit and watch the planes take off. Remember that? It was all rather simple...

And then 9/11 happened. The airlines had sympathy galore from the public and they took full advantage of it. They reduced staff, raised fares, and implemented fees for everything that you can imagine starting with ridiculous baggage fees that have since brought them billions upon billions of dollars. 

Bag fees began with just domestic flights because somehow you only needed a change of clothes if you were flying international. 👀 Initially, international flights did not have bag fees. Now all flights have fees, first bag, second bag even more, a third bag will cost you your children. 

Remember the standby flight? It was a convenience offered for free because it was a win-win for both parties, the airline and the customer. It is still a convenience for the airline but one for which the customer must pay. Need to change your flight? It's going to cost you - Dearly!

From there it went to seats for sale! Want leg room or a seat wide enough to not share with a neighbor you've never met or that comfortably fits even modest hips for your five hour flight? Its gonna' cost you... 

Wanna' sit in that emergency aisle and promise to help in the event of an unscheduled landing between runways? To be of that service, to help save fellow passenger lives, will cost you too. 

Love that window seat? I love the aisle. Wanna' choose your seat of preference at time of purchase to avoid the airline assigning you to the dreadful middle seat as punishment for not taking the bribe up front? Pay up!!! 

Remember when if you had a seat at the back of the plane once everybody was on board if there were vacancies in the front of the plane, notwithstanding first class of course, you could move to that empty seat for free? Not anymore. You want to move? That's gonna cost you too...

Hungry? So sad, to bad... Meals are no longer included. First they removed the hot meals and all steel cutlery from the flights and served instead some prefab sandwich that tasted prefab, now with plastic utensils only. Unless of course, you were in first class, then you still got a hot with your temporary airline cot. 

Eventually they started charging for that not so good sandwich. Ultimately, the sandwich was reduced to a snack of cookies or chips and a drink. The major airlines used to laugh at Southwest and other no frill airlines for exactly the service they now provide.

Note that all of this is happening in the face of ever escalating ticket fares. Fewer services, higher prices. Capitalism at its best!

Recently, Delta announced that it will no longer serve snacks. In the spirit of follow the leader, the other airlines will surely follow suit. 

Post 9-11, we got something called TSA checkpoints, which entail physical groping of our bodies, searches of our hair, stripping of shoes, belts, and all things metal. Our luggage is being exrayed or physically searched, as we are forced to walk through expensive body scan equipment that fails even its own tests. Don't want to go through all of that? You don't have to! Pay a modest price for prepaid TSA clearance, and voila!, you can avoid the inconvenience of having your dignity violated... 

I have said nothing about how many steps you're going to get in walking from the check in ticket counter to your gate of departure. At least one mile in many airports. Whose bright idea was it to include inclines in that mile? Thank God for bags with wheels. My heart bleeds, however, for the mostly frail people pushing all those soon to be very able big bodies in those handicap assist chairs. The immediate cures at curbside is nothing short of miraculous! 

So here we are now in the midst of another crisis, this one created by the trump administration resulting in ridiculously high oil prices. Once again, the airline is not going to miss an opportunity to gouge the public. Have you bought an airplane ticket recently? Sticker shock is an understatement. As we know, once the fees go up and services are further reduced, fares will never come down and services will never be restored.

Highway robbery has nothing on skyway robbery. 

Flying is not only a necessary inconvenience, it is now a very costly, tiring, and mostly unpleasant necessary inconvenience. Safe travels...

Miss Higgi Says, friendly are the skies no more...

Happy Decoration Day!

Here's the history of how Decoration Day, a commemoration created by formerly enslaved Africans, became Memorial Day, now a national holiday. 

The transition of Decoration Day into what we now know as Memorial Day is a profound piece of American history, deeply rooted in the aftermath of the Civil War. While several towns claim to be the birthplace of the holiday, historians have uncovered that the earliest, largest recorded precursor was organized by newly freed African Americans.  

sdarj.org

Here is a brief history of how Decoration Day originated and evolved:

1. The True Roots: Charleston, SC (May 1, 1865)

In the final months of the Civil War, the Confederate military turned the Washington Race Course and Jockey Club in Charleston into an outdoor prison camp. More than 250 Union soldiers died there from disease and exposure and were buried in a chaotic mass grave behind the grandstands.  

chicagocrusader.com

When the city fell and white residents fled, a group of about 28 formerly enslaved Black workmen went to the site, exhumed the bodies, and gave them proper, individual burials. They built a tall fence around the new cemetery and erected an archway at the entrance inscribed with the words: "Martyrs of the Race Course."  

chsasalh.com

On May 1, 1865, a crowd of nearly 10,000 people—mostly freed slaves, alongside Black Union regiments and white missionaries—gathered to dedicate the cemetery.  

science.nasa.gov

The Parade: The procession was led by 3,000 Black schoolchildren carrying armloads of fresh flowers and singing "John Brown’s Body."  www.zinnedproject.org

The Honor: They were followed by Black women with baskets of wreaths, Black men marching in cadence, and Union infantry units (including the famous 54th Massachusetts Colored Regiment).

The Meaning: The crowd decorated the graves with flowers, listened to scripture, and held picnics. As historian David Blight notes, this was the very first informal "Decoration Day"—an act by newly freed people to declare exactly what the war had been fought for.  

www.zinnedproject.org

2. The Official Declaration (May 1868)

As informal springtime "decoration days" continued to pop up in both Northern and Southern communities to honor the staggering 700,000 Civil War dead, a formal movement took shape.  

science.nasa.gov

In May 1868, Major General John A. Logan, the commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic (an organization of Northern Union veterans), issued General Order No. 11. This order officially designated May 30, 1868, as "Decoration Day"—a national day specifically set aside for "strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country." May 30th was chosen carefully because it was a time when flowers would be in full bloom across the entire nation.  

www.cem.va.gov

3. Keeping the Tradition Alive

Throughout the Reconstruction era and into the early 20th century, African Americans and Black veteran posts remained the primary caretakers and celebrants of Decoration Day in the South, keeping the memory of the Union sacrifice alive even as white Southern communities heavily policed or ignored it. Concurrently, Southern white communities practiced their own distinct "Confederate Memorial Days" on separate spring dates.  

www.nps.gov

4. Evolution into Memorial Day

chicagocrusader.com

Over the decades, the name "Memorial Day" gradually became more common than "Decoration Day".  

www.cem.va.gov

Post-World War I: The scope of the holiday expanded. It was no longer just about the Civil War; it was broadened to honor all American soldiers who had died in any military conflict.  

www.cem.va.gov

The Uniform Monday Holiday Act (1968/1971): To create a convenient three-day weekend for federal employees, Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act in 1968. When it officially took effect in 1971, it legally changed the name to Memorial Day and moved its observation from the traditional May 30th to the last Monday in May.  

science.nasa.gov

What started as a localized, deeply emotional tribute by newly freed citizens to honor the soldiers who died for their emancipation ultimately transformed into the national day of remembrance observed today.  

science.nasa.gov

Source: Gemini AI

Miss Higgi Says, Happy Decoration Day!

Celebrate Black History 365!!!

Counting My Blessings...

Twenty years ago today on May 19th 2006, I graduated law school. I was a few days shy of 46 years old and ready to take on a new world. It had been a tumultuous 3 years of my life and this was a very proud moment for me. I had at least one hundred guests in the audience that day. I can still see their happy faces screaming as I spoke from the podium. And we had a nice party afterwards also. 

During my first year of law school I had the pleasure of meeting Congressman and Freedom Fighter, John Lewis. While I graduated from Rutgers University in New Jersey, I did my first year of law school at University of District of Columbia (UDC). During that year, I had the honor of meeting some really fabulous civil rights folks among them was John Lewis and Dorothy Height.

Congressman John Lewis was there giving a speech and promoting his book. I was just mesmerized by him. I approached and said, I have to have lunch with you. And, as most polite people would, he said, fine, call my office. Of course when I called the office I expected them to blow me off. Not at all... Instead, they asked when did I want to come. I couldn't believe it! It was just that simple y'all. Never be afraid of "no", just ask for what you want no matter how outlandish it may seem. That's been my motto in life. Sometimes I forget. On a day like today I am reminded to ask for what I want.

Fast forward, just a few weeks later I'm on the hill having lunch and spending a good part of the afternoon with our renowned civil rights hero. We talked in his office, we walked through the tunnel to the Congressional dining hall where we had lunch. I met his staff and many of his colleagues. It is a day that I will never forget. He was the nicest and most gracious person, acknowledging everyone from fellow politicians to janitors. He greeted everyone along our way in his beloved community. He was the real deal... 

Fast forward again, three years later I am a part of the student government team looking at potential commencement speakers. I'm more than 20 years older than my fellow graduates. They'd never heard of Congressman John Lewis, sadly, not even the Black ones. Trust me, it was a hard sell but I got them to understand why we should have him as our commencement speaker. 

One of the assistant deans in the law school was married to a congressman at that time. So it was decided that we would allow him to invite Congressman Lewis to be our speaker. After several weeks of him dragging his feet and that not happening, I approached the dean and said do you want me to call. At this point, it's in the interest of time. The dean said sure. Once again, I simply asked and again, "Mr. Good Trouble" said yes. I was thrilled. 

It was agreed amongst us students, class president included, that I would introduce the congressman on commencement day. Of course I would. It was me who got him, who thought of him, it was my idea. Well, one of my colleagues, the class president, worked for that congressman who never made the call to get him. And while she and the others on the committee had agreed that I would do the intro, now all of a sudden she was to introduce Congressman Lewis at graduation. I was being asked to step aside. I could not believe this was happening. This was to be a joyous moment...

The dean actually wanted me, the Black student who thought to bring a noted Black Civil Rights leader to campus, to step aside so Becky from Montana (not her real name, I don't even remember her name), yes Montana, could have the honor. This was race, politics, and the all too familiar paper cut micro aggression of "good liberals", all wrapped up in one punch to the gut. 

Of course, however, I was not settling for this. I gathered several of my female peers of all races and nationalities and along with one of the few Black professors we had on campus at the time, as mediator, we confronted the dean. We were very clear that it was our graduation and we got to decide who we wanted to speak. I was proud they stood up for me.

After agreeing to be our commencement speaker, I had another ask of Congressman Lewis. I asked that my peers and I could come and spend a day on the Hill with him as I did two years before. Again y'all, he said yes. These were the same students that went before the dean with me. 

Over the years I had several opportunities to mix with the Congressman. He knew me by name and face as a result of that one random request during my first year of law school. I remember being at the Democratic National Convention, I didn't have a ticket to get in the main event for Obama's acceptance speech. The good Congressman directed me to his office to get a ticket. Ask for what you want...

A compromise was made for our graduation ceremony that I didn't quite appreciate until the Black female professor explained the power of having the last word. So, Ms. Montana got to briefly welcome to the Congressman before he spoke. I got to publicly pay tribute to him after he spoke, in a way that my colleagues and those in the audience would always know his name and all the good trouble he had started in the interest of the good of this nation. What would he say now? Shame on the US Supreme Court for turning the clock back to erase the work of valiant Civil Rights workers like the Congressman and so many others.

May 19th, 2006, was certainly a day of honor for me, one I will never forget for a lot of reasons. Incredibly, I was damn near 50 graduating law school which you couldn't have told me I was going to be doing at 45. My Mom died at 45... She would have been quite proud!

 

Moreover, I cannot believe that it's been 20 years. Where did the time go? What have I done between the dashes? This is certainly a time for reflection, a time to remind myself of my tenacity, and the positive impact and influence I have had on so many others over the years, knowinly and unknowingly. People often remind and thank me. I am humbly grateful... 

While I did not start out to tell the story I just shared, the moral of the story is to never be afraid of "no". Never underestimate what you can do, Yes, you can! Always, always, ask for what you want for s/he who does not ask, certainly will not receive. 

Congratulations to me 20 years later! 

~ Miss Higgi Says, thank you for taking this stroll down Nostalgia Lane with me. 

Enjoy your day! Do something or ask for something you think out of reach! Go for it! 

Happy Birthday Malcolm X! Celebrate him and Congressman John Lewis today! They both left us a blueprint.

 

She's My Favorite Girl!

Anybody who grew up in the '70s, any Black person who grew up in the seventies, our Mother's Day anthem was, The Intruders singing I'll Always Love My Mama. It was blaring from people's houses, car radios, and I dare say, some version of it, from churches. On Mother's Day especially, it was on the top of everybody's playlist. 

We loved our Mamas and this song demonstrated all the reasons why and gave us a beautiful vehicle to shout it to the world. 

I can remember the pride it gave to Black Mothers everywhere to hear this anthem to and about them and know that it resonated with what they meant to their children. Kudos to The Intruders!

Many a Black Mother sacrificed for the well-being of her children. She is the OG of Mama Bears. She has ALWAYS HAD to protect her cubs...

I will always love my Mama and she's been gone for almost 40 years. I have lived more than half of my life without her physical presence. Still, however, I feel her love...

There is no love like the love of your Mama. I hope that you love your Mama as much as I love my Mama and that if you are blessed that she is still here, you make sure that she knows how much you love her today and everyday. You only get one, you only get one, yeah... 🎶

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there. You make a difference and nobody can replace you. Not nobody! Not ever! 

Miss Higgi Says, 🎤 I'll Always Love My Mama, She's My Favorite Girl... 🎶

Happy Mother's Day!

Click here to enjoy The Anthem

https://youtu.be/AGaEceD74RU?si=Dv8exZVzmIFWf0Rk

Leave Them Behind

Today I unfriended and blocked a woman on Facebook who I met a few years back at a Korean Day Spa in Philly. I didn't know her from Eve. She is not someone I knew then, she is obviously not someone I need to know now... 

This woman revealed herself a trump supporter, an anti-Black Black appearing woman who supports this administration. She is the most dangerous kind of "Black" person. I need know nothing more about her. I've got no use for her kind... 👀

Anybody who can support, excuse, try to justify, or make sense out of what happened last week is a lost cause. Don't waste your time trying to convince these people that what happened to Black Americans last week is the manifestation, the culmination, of what Black folks have known was happening to us all along. Don't give them the space or opportunity to try and make sense out of nonsense. Time for dialogue has passed...

Don't let people gaslight you into second guessing yourself on that which is very clear... 

We must stop actively participating in the dance of gaslighting. Let them find another dance partner as you shuffle away, far away, from them...

The sheets are off! klan supporters are free to reveal themselves. Do give them that space. You want to know who they are. 

Recently, I told this self proclaiming, "I'm not a racist" white woman I was working for that I would rather deal with rednecks than liberals because at least with the rednecks, everybody knows where they stand. Meanwhile, liberals are smiling in your face, stabbing you in your back, ALL while calling themselves your ally. Sometimes the knife wielding backstabber is Black presenting, a human specimen merely dipped in chocolate. What an absolute waste of good melanin... Either way, they've got to go! 

Giving racists the key to unlock and dismantle Black Americans right to legislative representation, ultimately our right to vote, a key component of hard won civil rights gains, was all we needed to hear. There is no other explanation than an all out war was loudly declared on Black people last week, make no mistake about it. The days of dog whistling are over. The muzzle has been removed from the rabid dog. He is barking out loud and ready to bite! 

Anybody who will try and convince you otherwise, see them, and be done with them. They don't mean you, or anybody who looks like you, any good. Even sane white people are looking at these negroids like what the f***? It's an illness that we don't understand. 

clarence thomas is their leader. If trump is the cult leader for the magas, uncle clarence is the cult leader for these confused chocolate dipped "Black" people. As my mama once told me about a boyfriend I adored, leave them where you find them. Be done with these folks. Wash your hands of them and simply walk away. I don't care if it's your daddy, he is a danger to the rest of us. Be done with them. 

In the words of Maya Angelou, when folks show you who they are, don't waste your time on dialogue or trying to fix them, believe them and let them be. 

Especially now, you're either with us or you're not. If you're not, in light of all that is happening, there is no wiggle room, no time or need for conversation or explanation. They are hopelessly sunken. Let them sink. You cannot reach them, so don't drown trying. Revoke their card and don't ever give it back to them. They are not to be trusted. 

The chocolate dipped are definitely the ones that our Sistah Harriet would have left behind. In the best interest of you, more importantly, in the best interest of our community at large, Miss Higgi Says, Leave them behind...

Survival Is In Our DNA

Recently I saw an interview of a corn farmer who has basically lost everything. Apparently China was the prime customer for his product. trump's tariffs have killed his business. 

The farmer confessed that he is a three time trump voter. He conveyed receiving a government hand out, I mean, government subsidy or relief package that recouped only 20% of his loss. magas don't take hand outs... 👀  

The farmer is 80% in the hole with no viable means of recovering his livelihood. Still, this white farmer, says he supports trump and does not regret his vote. What is that if it ain't a need to maintain power at any costs, even to himself? 

There is no overcoming such a mindset, so don't waste your energies. If this farmer is your dad or some other loved one, just throw your hands up. There is no penetrating such delusion. These people are guided by blind racism and fantastical ideologies of supremacy. Despite all that tells them otherwise, they have to believe they are the superior race. What else do they have?

They truly believe this is their country and they will stop at nothing to maintain control and power. Never will they surrender or lose their majority status. As he drains the US till lining his and his cronies' pockets with ill gotten loot, their loot, the farmer's loot, trump gives them hope. 

They long for yesteryear with visions of terrorized Black captives and barefoot, pregnant white women with lots and lots of babies, dancing in their heads. Both are fearful. Both are obedient. Certainly, they don't defy them. In this vision, they want their property back. ALL of their property.  She was his property first... 

They yearn a time gone by when all was right in the[ir] world. I guess they forget that not all of them were rich owners of others and/or land and that many were two steps removed from being property themselves.

Many whites then, and now, were poor. Shhh, don't tell them. 

They came here poor, some came by choice looking for a better life, some were discarded by their home country because they were poor, criminal, diseased, and/or derelict. 

But for the grace, not of God, of America's commitment to perfecting racism in her creation of the delusion of white supremacy, they should have been breaking their backs building America working in the fields instead of or alongside the Black folks with whom they shared economic conditions but who they were taught to loathe or feel superior to so not to see themselves. 

What is it that Lyndon B. Johnso said about convincing the lowest white man that he was superior to even the best colored man?🤦🏾

The photo below depicts what they truly see and hope for when they hear "make America great again"... The dog need whistle no more. trump gives them space and permission to bark out loud. They are free to release the venom in their spirit that is ingrained in their DNA...

It's Monday morning y'all. Know that we shall survive. We always survive. Be inspired that survival is in our DNA...

~ Miss Higgi Says 

Source Unknown

Don't Steal My Flowers...

On most Sunday afternoons I host online live discussions, a podcast I suppose, on various subjects, mostly involving Black women, all involving subjects of interest or relevant to Black people. 

Ironically, or maybe not, last Sunday I hosted a conversation with Black women only about how we treat and respond to one another. It's a conversation that we tend not to have amongst/about ourselves. It was well received. A good discussion was had...

We don't talk enough about how we treat each other. There's a code that's unspoken, presumed known, and expected to be respected by others in our community. Sometimes that doesn't happen.

In the last week I have had two incidents where someone failed to give credit for work I've done. That's not cool y'all... 

One person derailed a group trip planned and coordinated by me. A friend of hers is now being credited for "coordinating" the trip. 👀 

Someone else on Facebook reposted my work which went viral absent acknowledgement that it was written by me... 👀 

It's rough out here in these creative streets. Protect your turf... 

I am addressing both issues. Below is the Facebook post I made in response to my written work reprinted absent author recognition.

Social media is a new animal, indeed. It's a phenomenon of its own, but it does not negate respect or protection of one's creative work. Often ownership of work is not indicated. But when it is, give the creator their props. Put some respect, some limits, on use of other people's property...

Here is my Facebook post:

Good Morning Folks,

I know that when we post intellectual property, our written or graphic creations, on social media platforms, we don't have a whole lot of control over what happens with it, who reads it, who reposts it, etc. I get that... 

So, I started adding my byline, Miss Higgi Says, to most of what I write. 

I respectfully ask, if in fact you share my creative work, please don't remove my signature byline, Miss Higgi Says, and do tag me, if you will... If I wrote something and didn't add any byline and you are so moved to share it, please indicate that I wrote it and not you, add the byline and tag me. This seems a small request, a professional courtesy...

I just realized that the piece I wrote the other day regarding the White House Correspondence Dinner was shared by 16 people from my Facebook page. I don't always make my posts shareable, my page is private. A friend asked me to make the piece shareable, which I didn't mind. I know when she shares my work she's going to indicate I wrote it. I would like to ASSume that friends, even most Facebook friends, will do the same. The emphasis on "most". I get that part too... I enjoy writing and appreciate any appreciation of my craft. 

A person in my Facebook friend group shared this particular piece and received over a thousand comments, most agreeing with or thanking her for what they presumably thought she wrote. It was shared 655 times from her page alone and likely by many others from there. In other words, my writing went viral. 

One problem...

My signature byline was removed from the post, simply replaced with a random tag of my name. No indication was given that I wrote it. That bothers me y'all...

Again, if you share something I wrote or created or anybody else wrote or created, boldly give that person credit for their work. That's all I'm saying. 

That's what's on my mind this morning... 

~ Miss Higgi Says,

Good Wednesday Morning & Do Unto Others...

It's Exhausting...

So we're supposed to believe that this random Black appearing guy strolled into a formal event hosted by this klan administration and nobody stopped him? 

Are we to believe that with all the people who hate him, all the wars he has provoked, all the lives he has ruined as he holds a seat of such high importance, that security around him is so lax that some random guy just strolls into a black tie affair he is hosting and shoots?

Are we to believe there was no security and that said random Black appearing man could just walk right into the hotel, much less the event, while packing?

Really? Is that what we are supposed to believe?

Anyone who lives in or who has ever lived in Washington, DC or been in the vicinity of anywhere any POTUS was scheduled to be, knows that the above is just not possible. Civilian lives are totally disrupted even when POTUS is just passing through.

But let us pretend, however, that this guy has some integrity and would never stage stunts, incidents, or "news" to distract the public or depict himself as a victim, denying him fodder to feed the warped minds of his hangry' base - Hungry and angry, hungry for regular feedings of hate to fuel their anger.

Let us pretend that the occupant is really presidential and that, on the heels of him ending the investigation of a previous "threat to his life", we should treat the drama at the White House Correspondence Dinner like a real occurrence or some serious newsworthy event,  never calling it by it's name, a high tech sham. 

It's exhausting y'all. Just exhausting... 

If the intent is to keep us distracted, confused, anxious, depressed, angry, fearful - take your pick - it's working. 

Shame on the media, elected officials, judicial figures, to include Supreme Court justices, and all others who prop this guy up as though he's presidential but must be obeyed, feared, and unchallenged like a king. 

Shame on them for their dereliction of duty to protect the nation from harm, especially from within. 

Shame on them for behaving as though there's anything normal about him, his presence in Washington, or his representation of America on the world stage. 

We know, as according to the press, at first, it was profitable for them to ignore his lies and buffoonery. For the sake of money and ratings, they chose to not question or challenge his vile behavior and comments, to pretend he was a real candidate. But at this point, it is anti-American, ethically and professionally irresponsible, and downright dangerous. Their lack of journalistic integrity puts us all at risk. I no longer respect the American "press" at all anymore. Social media pundits have more credibility.

He is so damn exhausting as we know is the game plan. Exhaust Americans by keeping us in a perpetual state of anxiety, depression, confusion, uncertainty, fear, anger, whatever it takes to distract us from what he's doing or not doing, like releasing the epstein files, inundating us with unenforceable executive orders, killing innocent fishermen and school girls, kidnapping presidents, erecting monuments to himself, tearing down the east wing and existing history, creating wars unnecessarily, robbing the coffers of the American public, putting our lives and the lives of our troops at risk.  So on, and so on, and so on...

WHEN, WHERE, HOW, but more importantly, WILL it end or this to become the new norm? Are you OK with that? 

maga, this is what you voted for? This is how we make America "great"? A great what? A great laughing stock? Mission accomplished.... 

Americans cannot REALLY be this stupid, this gullible, or so easily manipulated. Can they? I just refuse to believe they are the majority. At this time, it must be the dumb ones controlling the mic and occupying the larger stage.

Iran, a more reliable media source than American journalists and mainstream news networks, will have a field day with this. Already, before dawn of the new day, they have released a highly anticipated Lego mega hit about last night's fiasco at the dinner.

His only response has been to make an appeal for the ballroom. He's exhausting...