"One Good Reason To Stay: A Poem For Phyllis Hyman"

They Tried To Silence My Voice, But This Year I Shall Be Heard

Voter Suppression. What comes to mind whenever you hear that term? For me, it conjures up the ghostly images of Jim Crow; burning crosses, attack dogs, and insane voting tests. For these "modern" times, I think of those voting machines that switch the vote.

I don't know why I expect the blatant signs. Even though I've grown up in the South where civilized folks express their "distaste" for certain people with genteel language. The "Southern Code" really does exist and only true sons and daughters of the South understand it.

So why was I surprised to realize that I've been a victim of voter suppression-like activity. I'm not saying it was intentional. But it does make one wonder.

Today was my first time voting...ever. Not that I haven't wanted to in the past. I just couldn't. I registered to vote for the first time November of 1996 at the DMV. For some strange reason I never received my Voter's Registration Card. I registered again at the DMV in 2000. Guess what, I never got my card. I tried registering online in 2002 and...didn't get a card. In 2003 my mother inquired about my card and discovered that the Board of Elections had my card. I never did find out why it was never mailed to me. But I at least had my card. I missed the 2004 election (I can't remember why I missed that election). Which brings me to this general election.

Keep in mind, I received my card in 2003*, this is a 2008 election. 5 years, 2nd general election.

Today I went in for the early vote. Proudly whipped out my 5 year old card anxiously awaiting my turn to vote when...I was told I wasn't in the system. My name had been "purged" from the system. Another lady asked me when was the last time I voted. I told her it was my first and then she was kind enough to inform me that people are purged when they miss two general elections. I looked at her and said "I didn't get my card until 2003. I've only missed one election." She gave me this blank look, and I started reaching for my cell phone, preparing to call three of those 800 numbers for voting problems.

Fortunately (for them) I didn't have to call anyone. They got me back in the system, and I voted. All in all it took about 25 minutes. After 10 years, I'd finally cast my vote.

I admit I am partly to blame, missing the 2004 election (I still can't remember why, but I'm sure it was a good reason). But I'm sure that most of the fault falls on the local election board. Why was I never mailed a card in 1996, 2000, or 2003? Normal protocol does not require one to go and personally pick up their registration card. What made me so different? I can understand how some things happen...but I slipped through the cracks three times. COUNT THEM! 1, 2, 3 Times. That can't be normal.

The fact that no one wanted to acknowledge that I'd only received my card in 2003. The woman waiting on me couldn't be bothered to say sorry for your trouble when she finally gave me a new card. Matter of fact, she acted as though it was my fault I'd been purged and was imposing on her for exercising my right to vote. That was more telling than the fact I'd been purged (after fighting for a registration card for eight years) and never notified.

I realized I learned a valuable lesson today as I walked back to the car from the Old Court House; trying to ignore the Confederate flags that adorn the Redneck Shop** right across the street. We're not where we used to be, but we sure have a long way to go.

* I was enrolled in college 1997-1999 (TX) and 2000-2003 (NC)
** The Redneck Shop is a Confederate Museum and Klan Memorabilia Store

Because It's Still Funny A Year Later

The reason most Black people don't go ghost hunting

"Numbers"

We Gonna Have A Good Day...Dammit

We gonna have a good day,
Ain't nobody gotta cry today,
'Cause ain't nobody gonna die today,
You can save that drama for another day.
--Good Day, Nappy Roots

The last few weeks have been hellacious. I've been dealing with never ending cycle of death (and illness) and drama. Last month, Hershey Bear, our 13 year old chow mix died. Okay, there wasn't too much drama with that. He just stopped eating, 3 days later he was dead. Not very dramatic, but traumatic for me since this was the first time I ever had to personally deal with a pet's death. Not that I had time to grieve or do something dramatic, because we had to deal with a major flea infestation with the two remaining pets. Oh yeah, and a cousin got shot and killed.

A couple of weeks ago, Mother's friend was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia (again).
This was like the 4th time he'd been in the hospital with pneumonia in less than a year. We had a few days of calls back and forth (drama)...then he died(more drama). Then more calls back and forth for a week and a half before the funeral (a whole heap of drama). During the period leading to the funeral; we found out that yet another cousin had been shot and killed, this time a drive-by. And...another cousin's cancer had come back.

We barely had time to change out of our black dresses when the phone rings. This time, it's a church member. She just put her husband in the hospital. Sad thing is, he's already undergoing treatment for cancer. The next day, we get a call...they had to do emergency surgery, and it doesn't look good. So, he's in critical condition and if there are any changes, we'll know in the next 72 hours. So we're all holding our breath and praying for the next 3 days (and dealing with more drama).

To add insult to injury, we find out that a cousin's funeral was just Sunday (we didn't even know she'd died) and another cousin had died the week before. How much more can a Sista stand?

So today, I'm going to have a good day. I'm going to go to Sonic, get a half-priced happy hour slush, take the phone off the hook, and have a good day.