For months I've struggled with what to put here to describe this blog. I have found the words. This is a journey of a man who has done so much, yet so little, who has been crucified and resurrected, who has a lot of stories and no stories.
All while keeping it obviously, Straight, No Chaser
THE Relationship Hierarchy for Black Folks by Terrance L.
WIFE (S1) - This is the top spot. What we all strive to have and maintain. There are no pretenses here. A bond that has been cemented before God, Family and Country, this is not to be played with. This sister is THE power behind you, your rib, your lover, your friend. Screw up and she makes you life difficult. Do right and you get a woman that will die for you.
FIANCE'(S2) -The penultimate step before ascension. If marriage is the championship, then this is the finals. The only thing standing in her way to the throne is a damn good plan and a nice summer day.
WIFEY (S3)- The sister you have been in a committed relationship with for sometime and have come to love, trust and respect. There is no fairy tale at this stage. You know the ends and out and in all probability yall already shacking. Your SSN? She knows it. Your atm code? She knows it too. Guess what she’s read your nonsense on BP too. Just be warned. The only thing keeping her from the fiance spot is a nice piece of jewelry and your lack of courage. Consider this the conference championships.
WOMAN (S4) -Welcome to the playoffs. This is the beginning of the title run. This happens when a) pressure is applied by the right hand to make her official thereby matching her pay to the work she doing or b) pressure from your mama to stop playing around. At any rate the commitment is official. While small time, things start to heat up at this stage and you are one weekend visit from having a wifey. Like the playoffs is really win or go home.
RIGHT HAND/EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT (S5)-C'mon fellaz we know who this sista is. She’s the one always on our arm, handling our day to day. She’s at all the barbecue’s. You hitting it raw. She can use your phone. I mean she’s the workhorse. Only problem is yall aint never made it official, so you (and she) can still do what you want to the ire of the other person. (It’s usually when one of the parties will then try to lock the contract down). This stage is critical because during this time you will decide is she will make the playoffs or get to rebuild her team next year under a different GM. BTW: Remember that threesome she DIDN’T give you? Didn’t that factor in your discussion to promote her? ;-)
JUMP OFF (S6)- Similar to the Right hand, this sister is usually by your side for only the fun shiet. The serious stuff in your life is not her concern. But when the drinks is flowing, when the parties jumping she will be there. However, due to the lack of balance there is little or no chance of yall being serious. The up side is that she’ll probably give you that threesome with her girl. At this point, yall just having a good time until the right hand or woman ends this dynamic. This is like being the Atlanta Braves. Damn good during the season but rarely gets it done.
MAIN (S7)-For those of you dating multiple folks, this is the one that keeps rising to the top. This stage is tricky because she can either go to the dead end zone of jump off or become the more maneuverable right hand. This all depends on how you guys interact. Yup this is the second half of the regular season.
BETTIES/CHICKS/OLE GIRL(S8)-This is the first half of the regular season. The sister you just meet and got a lil going for herself. It is during this stage you will decide if she’s going to have a strong second half and make the run for the post season or by midseason she’ll be trade for a draft pick, some cash and a minor league player to be named later.
BUST DOWNS AND CHICKEN HEADS(S9) -These are teams that just want to fill the stadiums without improving the teams. (Think Cubs before this season). Good for only good sex with you and your boys, you know for a fact they’ll be out of the running three weeks into the season.
ROOKIES (S10) - Welcome to the game youngling. These are the sisters who are 18-22, just leaving for college and entering the league. How we treat them at this stage, coupled with their home training will determine where they land. Fellaz do your rookies right. (Take that however you want to.)
This is me right here ~Wallace, from Season 1 of the Wire.
It had been a long time since I sat across from my mentor getting the look of bewilderment. I tried not to look at her as I ate my salad. However, I know her and know she is going to bemoan the point.
“So Mr. Thomas, why the change”
“In?” I respond trying to be coy
Ms. M tips her head slightly, “don’t be smart Mr. Thomas. I’ve trained you since high school. You know what I am talking about.”
I laugh. She is referring to the polemic emotions I have had for the past six months or so about walking away from Black Studies. At the end of last year, I had opted to make this my last run, get one more platinum plaque and move on. However, less than two months into 07, I am a man divided, walking a line between what I love and what is lucrative.
I take a deep breath and answer her question. “I don’t see what I’ve gained from Black Studies. I don’t see how it will benefit me or my sons.”
She looks at me, as she has always done loving but also with a sense of disappointment.
“How so?” she asks in a voice so calm, yet so serious.
“I just look around and I see folks with careers, homes, making it. Then I look at me and I’m struggling. I just see too many contradictions…”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “Contradictions are a part of the human life the presence of a contradiction doesn’t make you any less truthful or honorable.”She eats some more of her steak. “You know what it sounds like to me?”
“No what?” I ask, afraid because I know she is not to be messed with. Even though DM was one of my earliest teachers, she remains without question one of my best.
“It sounds like to me you making your people suffer because you made piss poor decisions.” I drop my head as I knew she was going to say that, but I was unable to stop it.
She continues. “You put the pursuit of a family, with a woman you were warned about no less, ahead of your career. Now because you’re not where you feel you should be professionally or educationally you want to throw a tantrum? That is not sound judgment Mr. Thomas.”
I take a sip of my lemonade. I struggle to respond to a charge I know in my heart is true as the day is long. “There is no money in Black Studies. I have children.” I offer as my next reason.
Without looking up from her plate she responds “And there is money as an English teacher?” She laughs loudly. Again, you need to ask yourself is that the fault of the discipline or you living above your means all these years. None of the elders ever tried to tell you about money and credit?”
I sat back and looked at her. I love this woman, because she’s good and she cares.
“Ms. M, I wasn’t prepared for this summer. I was like a fish out of water.”
“And do you think they selected you because you were a part of the pact or because you didn’t think like the norm. You had your head up your behind, worried bout everything other than your job. Those difficulties weren’t due to Black Studies. It was because you didn’t focus. Now the dress code and the office politics was something everybody had to learn. But you had the ability.”
“Mr. Thomas”, she continues in a voice so tender and stern, “I don’t know how you arrived at the decision to switch disciplines, but I am afraid to say the decision you’ve come to is not only wrong, its unfair. You are basing your happiness, or potential happiness of the acquisition of material goods. What did I tell you when you graduated from Olive Harvey?”
“Never sacrifice Black truth for white lies”
“And that is exactly what you’d be doing. You are turning your back on the very thing that got you to where you are. It got you to the dance, as you like to say. You kept walking in and out the party. Nobody is saying money isn’t important. Nobody is saying be poor. What I am saying is maintain your integrity in this matter. Folks are looking at you to carry on a legacy. Anybody can get paid, but not anybody can be asked to build an institution.”
I sat there silently, letting her words sink in. Our waiter comes over and asks do we need anything else. Ms. M looks at me and says “Mr. Thomas, will have a vodka and light cranberry, slightly chilled, and I’ll take the check.” As the waiter comes with both the drink and the bill Ms. M says “I have to get home to my husband. But you drink that and think it over. Tomorrow call me and tell me what you decided.” I get up to hug her. In my ear she whispers, “Never sacrifice…” trailing off expecting me to finish the statement: “Black truth for white lies”
We part. I sit down and sip my vodka. I think. After a few minutes I get up and go home.
When I arrive home, I go into my basement and look at my library. I look at my collection of pictures, movies, photos. Damn, Black Studies is in my soul. I even pull a couple of books to look over. Indeed this shit has been good to me, probably better than I have treated it.
I come upstairs and sit at my computer. I pull up the fiscal projections for the MPA, an old friend gave me. I am so confused. So I say a prayer asking Jehovah to guide my decision and bless my thought process. I turn off my computer and go to bed with the understanding of how I feel when I wake up will be my official and final policy regarding this matter.
The next morning I wake up and get dressed to meet with an old friend and colleague Red. We head over to the Pizza Hut in Hyde Park to talk about her wedding and my graduate school plans. I get quiet while she goes on about how excited she is, and she notices it.
“What’s wrong T?” she asks.
“Red, be honest with me. Would the Olive Harvey program continue without me in the game?”
Red looks at me and shakes her head “Of course. It would. Mr. Allen made sure of that. But it would go so much easier with you there.” Then she makes a face and says “that’s not true. The rest of us would take it out of loyalty, we wouldn’t necessarily want to. Everybody else has found their career niches. You want the academy. You are the heir apparent.”
I sip my beer, and ask “What about you or Dre?”
“Again, we would do it out of love for Mr. Allen. But we’ve got our missions. So it wouldn’t be a task we would seek. We would work for it, but you want it.”
I nodded, taking it all in.
“T haven’t you noticed that your energy drives the crew? We follow your lead.”
I laugh. “Dre told me that in so many words a few weeks ago”
“And he’s right,” she says. It would continue, but you’d make shit a lot easier. Besides T you’re the theoretical man. You bothered to learn Mr. Allen’s style. But you’re also practical, I mean before you plugged with us you came from the activist tradition. I mean your email was nkruma at hotmail”
I sit back and listen taking it all in.
She continued on: “I know it seems like it’s been slow moving, but it’s your time. I promise you this.”Red sits back and then smirks at me. “I know why you changed. You thought it would make shit different. I assure you it didn’t. People have always respected your consistency, the fact that we knew what to expect. This MPA shit aint you. It’s an illusion to make people accept you. But I think if you went back to being true to yourself, you’d get what you want. And anybody else who cant deal with it or handle it, then fuck em. That’s the T I know and love like a brother. So right now, ask yourself: Who are you?” She looks up from her pizza with one eyebrow raised, as I sit back nodding.
“Who am I?” finally getting the message?
Red smiles, because she knows I understand.
“I AM Black Studies Bitches!”
That is the fundamental truth. Despite it all I am organically Black Studies. I was born and raised in the discipline. I slept, eat and shit my discipline. The way Tiger Woods practices golf, the way Kobe Bryant practices basketball is the way I practice Black Studies. I truly love what I do.
I also realize that any set backs or problems I have encountered within the discipline can best be summoned up in a lament and reflection by Malcolm X: “only the mistakes have been mine”. I didn’t apply myself; I allowed other things from Sigma to Nicole to cause me to lose focus. I simply didn’t get it done. And Red was right, when I did get my title shot I was more concerned by getting her back to the table than making it do what it do.My challenges this summer with the state was not due to an inadequate discipline but rather a nigga not on his game.
Bottom line is this: This discipline and my family therein have been good to me. They had helped shape me into the man I am. Even if I switched and thrived in an MPA setting it would be off of the foundation laid by Black Studies. I can not escape who I am. Economically speaking, it’s not the most lucrative and it has to figure out a way to get back to the streets, but then again its’ not the role of the discipline to help me be a millionaire. I need to stay consistent in balancing my own budget and finances. Flaws and all this is my home. I will not sell it out just to be a part of a middle class who I already believe has forgotten the struggle that go them here.
Most important, I am primed to inherit a legacy, a foundation and to shape that into whatever vision I see fit. Anybody can earn a few dollars, not anybody can shape an institution. I’m sure my decision will elate some and disappoint others. Either way I can’t be concerned. I can only do what I am trained and entrusted to do. Who am I?
When I get home from lunch, I sit down at my computer and pull up the projections I was given. I smile, and reflect on the kindness of such an act. However this projection isn’t the truth. So I delete it. I purge all copies from my computer. I discard the MPA folder I have collected from other schools and replace them with PhD programs from around the country. I pick up the phone and call Ms. M. When she answers the phone I simply say. “I AM Black Studies”. (Of course I didn’t dare say bitch to her!) Finally, I feel at peace at peace about the matter. In all things one must be true to thy self.
So while I was finally perfecting my recipe for a peanut butter shake (HA! I did it to all you west coast folks who said I’d never do it; I got some fried potatoes to jack next) I was talking on my the phone to my ship about my averting the latest emotional disaster that seems to be the standard in my relationship with the female species. While I was praising myself for not getting involved in an emotional Vietnam again, and keeping things under control, my ship (in his infinite wisdom) made the point that I am usually in this situation because I don’t have what he termed “Ground Rules”. To be exact, he compared my dating style to the Black Studies program at my old school, an open invite with no minimum expectations. He felt that I give any and every chick a shot, regardless of looks, sanity, or compatibility issues because I like the challenge of “molding them” and since I know a lot of them aren’t going to work anyway, I feel no guilt when I kill the dynamic. I listened as I finished my creation; while I was testing it two things became very clear to me:
1)This damn shake is on point.
2)He’s fucking right.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I will fuck any ole crack head. I am not saying that the old 78 yr old chick is finna get some T penis. What I am saying is that most times all a chick gotta do is show some loyalty to my “company”, suck some good penis and well that’s it really. Rarely do I get to know them or they me. As for the ones who do get close, I realize after they got close that this shit aint going to work and I need to get out. But then I just don’t get out. I come up with more excuses than Bush in Iraq and the next thing you know I got drama. This shit was fun in my 20’s, but as I approach 32, and the possibility of a wife becomes a reality, then I need to make some serious changes. Actually, I’ve made a lot of changes. I don’t do intentionally seek quagmires anymore. I don’t allow drama to invade my space and place. BUT somehow it still finds itself there and I think it does lie in my absence of “Ground Rules”.
But I think that’s men in general actually. After we got off the phone I logged on the computer and went to this popular dating site. I compared about 100 profiles each. You know what I discovered? Women are much more thorough than men. Our profiles (mostly) say shit like “I’m looking for a special lady”. We’ll list physical qualifications and say shit like “no drama”. No wonder we pick bottom of the barrel chicks that disguise themselves as top notch. Sheesh. But the women’s profiles were more accurate than a PhD dissertation. I mean they were clear. “No kids”, “No students” “No big dudes” etc. They outlined various intangible characteristics. Some even got rude if you contacted them. For example I sent a message to this sister who clearly said “NO kids”. I just said Hi. She said thank you, and appreciated my note but she asked for no kids and since I can’t follow directions she was blocking me. I laughed. But it made me think. Women have ground rules before, during, and after a relationship. We just go along and make up shit as things progress. That is so not good. Well after damn near falling into a diabetic coma from the shake I had a realization. I do have ground rules. I just don’t enforce them. So as of this moment, March 4, 2007 at 10:08pm I am enforcing my rules and shall not deviate from them as much as humanly possible. Here are the commandments for dating, keepings and loving me.
(Please be advised that at this time I aint taking apps, but I felt for information purposes you should know.)
The Ten Terrance Commandments
10) I am not trying to play daddy to your children. I have my own sons to rear and I have no interest within the first 20 dates of meeting, talking to, looking at, hearing about, or otherwise being forced to take care of “Leroy’s” responsibilities. While things can and do happen and I may be in contact with them early, please don’t expect me to laugh, joke, pick up, hold, or otherwise play daddy. Likewise, I will not do the aforementioned actions. Should we get that far and grow into something more, we will then work out a program along practical lines to facilitate some form of relationship that includes how we handle the children. However, your kids remain your responsibility as my sons are mine. The only thing we are obligated to do in regards to the others children is not beat them or cuss them. The only thing the children are obligated to do is respect us as an adults.
9) Fuck what you heard but looks do matter. Next to the devil convincing the world he doesn’t, this is the biggest lie man kind has been told. While beauty is in the eye of the beholder, some niggaz is just bumblefuck ugly. Sorry. Nothing you can say will alter this opinion. I have certain tastes. I only date women who are African American, African, or from the Diaspora; I don’t want a white chick, a mami, a Chinese lover, or any of that. I love my sisters. I like petite women with apple shaped asses, six packs and perky breasts. OR, I like them with small hips and nice asses. I love glasses and skin color. I like short hair, or if you got hair make sure it is done. Don’t care what style. I DO NOT like “PHAT”, “BBW”, “thick in all the right places”, or any variation therein. I also realize the irony of myself being a big dude and preferring petite women. THAT’S MY CHOICE. It is my sincerest belief that a smaller woman will motivate me to lose weight. In fact that has happened once, where I dropped almost 100 lbs, esp. when I learned that being a fat ass is only cool in the south and Midwest (which is the same thing to me). And I assure you there are women who fit this mode who like men my size, just like some lil man wants a big woman and so on. While I am on the subject of looks, I also like my women to look and act like, well women. Smell nice, wear make up, and put on some thongs. I tired quickly of jeans, stretch pants, and frumpy dress. I’m sorry but if you can’t look the part, then I wont be convinced you washing the part either. Ok enough of that. I know somebody’s gonna take offense or give me the block my blessings speech, but you can save it. I’m willing chance a blessing blocking in order to get what I want.
8) You need to be college educated or at the very least, past your sophomore year in college. In fact before I got off my ass and finished, I had this as a rule. It was probably the one rule I enforced, until I allowed some chick to talk me out of it. Why this rule you may ask? Well because there is a certain conversation, socialization, and ambition that comes from educated women that is clearly different from chicks that are not. I like a woman who can think big and envision herself on Wall Street or in the academy or a senator or some shit. I have no further desire for chicks whose SOLE ambition is to be the best nail tech, cashier, hustler, pimpstess, pretty mama, or dick rider respectively. That might impress Duqwan offa the corner but for me I’ll pass. I mean in the next 3 to 4 yrs I’ll have my PhD. What would I look like dating the chick who took my order at Harold’s on 83rd? I also need for you to learn how to speak like an adult, not a BET VJ or the chick offa Hot 92.3. While I am a proud citizen of Negriona, I have since migrated to Afrolantia. I am no longer keen on hearing “papi” “you give me jokes” “namean” “word” “dune” “shits” “bling” or any of that. Learn to talk good ole engrish please. If I desire to relive my hood days or live out my Wire fantasies, I will simply either call one of my BFL brothers or go hang out with my street gang that pretends it’s a fraternity.
7) You have to believe in a God and at least try to actively practice something. If I can get up and say a prayer you can too. I also want to make it know that your belief is your belief. For the record I am a believer in the Jehovah’s Witness doctrine; if I were not that I’d be a Buddhist for certain. Please don’t don’t try to force Pastor Paulie’s views on me. If I wanna learn bout what Pastor Lonnie Love said I’ll go to his sports stadium church and be entertained. I don’t need your help. Conversely I won’t leave watchtowers lying around the bathroom ok? You know now that I think about it I don’t want another woman who is CME (Christmas, Mother’s Day and Easter) or Baptist. Wait, that’s actually the same thing. Without question yall are the most ignant, pastor loving, giving your money too, and non bible reading women in North America.)
6) We have to be sexually compatible. No more chicks that only know doggystyle or just getting their pussy ate. That shit is only hot in a lil kim video. I am a freak. I like licking, and sticking, and all that good stuff. You HAVE to want to give and receive oral sex. Women who don’t suck dick are destined to be either lonely or like dinosaurs. Work out whatever issues you have because if your sex drive and skills aint up YOU’RE DONE!
5) Please makesure your canon (history for the slow people) is accurate and concise cause I am going to check you out. If you say you were a stripper, you should be able to back that up. If you say you sold drugs, tell me some tales. If you say you once were a ninja show me some moves. I can back up my past. You will know who the fuck I am. The only people with foggy pasts are nut jobs and CIA agents.
4) Please keep your family in check. I’m going to be fair here. My mother is my chief advisor and best friend. HOWEVER, SHE DOES NOT DRAW POLICY. If you cant keep your mama, daddy, cousin, bitter sister, brother etc from actively being our business I will dismiss you. I have no desire to entertain your family or defend myself again them. That shit went out a year or so ago. In this same breathe please keep your whorish, lonely single friends out of our business; and definitely tell them to stop with the invites to single events and or hating on what we have. This will also get you dumped and your girlfriend slapped. HARD.
3)While I am not married to the old school per se, I do see value in it. To wit I open doors, fix shit, fight off hooligans, and pay the occasional bill. However, I am also flexible enough to cook, rub your feet, wash your hair etc. But I am not going to accept in any way shape form or fashion a nagging ass woman who got to be always right; loud and obtuse, and likes to just plain cut off a man’s balls. Angry, smart mouth nagging chicks are lonely chicks. It is not natural for a woman to nag a man. I aint saying I get to slap you, or you cant speak your peace. I am saying though you just aint gonna talk to me like that. If you gotta do all that naggin to change me or cause you unhappy then you need to take your ass home. Nagging, liberated women are usually single, bitter women. While I’m on the subject of naggin women, let me bring up my other bane: spoiled ass women. No you don’t get your way all the time. I don’t care how daddy did it, or your ex who was a football player, or dude who was a baller that got you whatever you wanted. I don’t care what you’re used to. We are dating now. You need to work within this paradigm. What’s that you say? You’re independent? Ok that’s great. Now get your independent ass away from me QUESTION?
2)Please have in your life that which you are demanding of me. If you are demanding that I have my own place, car, career, etc then make sure you have it too. I you come to me on some “do better” shit and YOU living with mama, I’m clown. When women do that, it makes us men think you are only after us for money or to rescue you. I am not doing either. So ask yourself this question: Do I have what I am about to ask him to have or acquire?If the answer is no, then shut up and enjoy the meal.
1) I don’t do clingy, emotionally dependant, co-dependant or any various therein. I am finally drama free. Perhaps in my twenties (ok I’m lying this past summer) I would have enjoyed the roller coaster. But as I approach mid thirties, I am not interested. If you got drama, issues, beefs, etc please don’t bring them to me. It took me far to long to get this shit right and you aint gonna mess it up. I don’t mind drama that comes from time and being a couple; however I will not start off sorting through your bull. I can refer you to a great therapist and decent out patience clinic.
I know this is going to come off offensive to some and arrogant to others, But I’m sorry. After years of getting it work, I need to set shit in order to get it right…
Happy Founders Day Women of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc!
I have always loved the above scripture, as it describes what a bond between man and woman should be; it lays the foundation for a husband and wife. In fact, verse 24 reads: That is why a man will leave his father and his mother and he must stick to his wife and they must become one flesh. I believe it is my sincerest belief that when A. Langston and Charles Taylor sat down and came up with the concept of a sister organization, they had their bibles opens to those scriptures. What other reason can there be for the bond that makes us who we are. I know first hand what that bond means. How so? Well it’s no secret that my relationship to my frat brothers is at best strained and at worse sucks. This is for a number of reasons, none of which I will go into in this blog. I will say it is always the connection to Zeta Phi Beta and the Sorors therein, that more often than not bring me back to the table and (keep me there) of Blue and White. This isn’t to say that my relationship with my Sorors hasn’t been polemic; quite the contrary. They have gotten on my nerves as I know I have gotten on theirs. Some I don’t speak to, and some I will never speak to. Those are the breaks. But, after the past year or so I realize that if my sisters step in my ass it is because of a basic truth as found in Luke 12:48: “Indeed, everyone to whom much was given, much will be demanded of him; and the one whom people put in charge of much, they will demand more than usual of him” They stay on me because they know I can do better. For this I thank them. For years, in my youth and arrogance I thought Deltas were what women should inspire to. It is with no shame I say that I was wrong, and that if and when I have a daughter, or wife, they shall be women of Zeta.
Damn, 87 years in the game. That’s saying a lot. I was wondering what I could say that would show my greatest appreciation to the organization of women who have been the most profound blessing a brother could have since becoming a member of the blue and white.
In the interest of keeping it simple (I’m looking at you Lillet), I’d just like to say thank you to:
The founders of ZPB, whose dedication to finer womanhood, scholarship, sisterly love, and a whole bunch of other pretty shit has lasted 87years and seems like it will last another 87 years,
Sorors Joy, Amber and Wendi, who taught me that everything on my mind need not be said,
Soror Desiree, who put out the word of my family’s trials and remained a friend throughout,
Soror Fredricka whose kind words often gave me a sense of hope during “the long night
Soror Lisa who keeps encouraging me to make it work,
The Sorors of the Phenomenal Pacific Region who showed a Brother love when I felt no love at the table of Blue and White,
The Sorors in Chicago, AJ, Tina, Renee, Chaisty, Mel, Tuesday, and that Capricorn who rules the world (LOL) and the all the rest, who came to my family’s aid in our time of need, responding before the brothers, and providing the ultimate service, working my father’s repast. That is a debt I will never be able to repay
Soror Michele who forgave my silliness and helped me through the grieving process,
Soror Mya, who continues to look out for me and make me smile, even when I don’t want to,
Soror Katina, who really helped me focus on what I needed to do,
Soror Rev. Dr. BJ, for showing me those wounds doesn’t always heal unless we take the initiative to rest, lest we infect others. Freedom is TRULY a beautiful thing.
Soror Isheya, who helped me see that flaws and all I am one of the beautiful ones,
Soror Lillet my “attorney”, friend, big sister and conscience. You have been there through good times and bad, sickness and health. I am closer to you than my blood sister. I am always a phone call away.
Soror Nickia, the Greatest Zeta. You have been many things to me, but chief of these is friend. I have learned and grown since being bless with your presence. Wise beyond your years and beautiful to match, knowing you has been my greatest blessing since becoming a man of Sigma. I can never repay you for what you’ve done. I can only continue to press towards the mark of the higher calling. The bible says that there are three great emotions one can have is faith, hope and love. Indeed, you have shown all three. (Stop frowning Lillet and Nickia, I know that was extra). Thank you…
Sorors world wide (and any I forgot ;-)) Enjoy your day…
Represent goddamn it, this day is for you
Happy Founders Day Women of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Inc!
