The LOVE I LOST

Shit was all good just a week ago...yeah, how many of us said it? How many of us said it and now look back wishing things was how they used to be? Broken hearts and bitter memories of what shoulda, coulda, mighta went down. Pissed at yourself for giving up on what may have been meant. And if you've ever been in love and you've lost it, that may have been the closest you've felt to dying.

I remember that Martin episode when Gina left his ole sorry ass and how it was revealed how heartbreak really can feel. Martin was cooped up in his apartment eating crackers for weeks, that pain was funny as hell because it was Martin. But it's real talk.

I think there is a greater lesson in heartbreak that makes us resilient and forces us to realize that sticks and stones don't break our bones, but a broken heart can damn near murder us. Don't front...the shit can hurt like hell, just like an Aretha Franklin track.

And time heals all, true. But you're not trying to hear that after she played you for your guy or he dumped you after sex...no words cure that shit, for real. And it's nothing like ending on bad terms with someone; bitter as hell when you see them at the gas station or the local club. We definitely need to learn to love and let go, maturely...free our hearts and learn from it. Because even once its broken, your heart is still capable of loving.

Love,
Vee

LOVE is STRONGER than PRIDE

I know, I know. Our pride is very important to us. We talk, dress, act, work and play based off of our pride; the part of us that makes people respect and love us. But love overshadows pride. So much, that it makes pride damn near non-existent.

Sometimes we wonder if loving hard makes us look foolish, or taking her back is a lame move. But love is bigger than that. Real love, genuine love...that's never about pride. To love is to not be ashamed that you fell for him over the internet. And to love is to hold her hand in front of your homies...proud to have her. Because love makes all that shit look small.

My "Mr On and Off"...everybody has one. That relationship that you just can't seem to get over. And it's embarrassing sometimes. And our pride controls us sometimes. When love should just allow you to be free.

Pride can be a silent killer. Don't let it kill you. Love. Live. And let the rest go.

Love,
Vee

I LOVE the way you brush your HAIR, I LOVE those STYLISH CLOTHES you WEAR

Swagg. Everyone swears they got it. And many would do any damn thing to act like they got it.

I think a lot of us got it twisted, however. Swagg has nothing to do with the brand of your clothes and how you wear your hair. It isn't based off of materials at all. Swagg is within...no joke. Either you got the shit or you don't. And too many of us spending a whole lot of time and money on an element that just can't be bought in stores. So stop it.

Let's first identify what it means to our society for someone to have no swagg. A straight lame. Who, in the eyes of our society, talks like a lame, dresses lame and just gives off lame ass vibes when they're around. You know, the Steve Urkels of the world. Well here's my "lame" opinion about those types: that's their swagg! And because it isn't the swagg that society deems as "cool", hell, it's who they are. But here's the confusion...it's not so much of who they are based off of what we see. It's who they are based off of what we feel when they're around.

You see, somewhere down the line, we began to equate swagg with our possessions. Fancy cars, that's swagger. Gucci sneakers, that's swagger. Mohawks and dreads, that's swagger. Not at all my loves. That's stuff and styles...it may improve our looks, make us feel good and attract people, but it is not us. When it all comes down to it, swagg is who you are. It's the air that you give off when folks come around you. And that, like personalities, varies from person to person. So there's no particular swagger we all need to try to achieve. You already have it. Only time your swagger is lame is when it's not true to who you really are. Fakes and phonies; that's lame as hell.

We give swagg recognition to some of the most unattractive people and truly...they have swagg. It's about integrity, sex appeal and demeanor. And when you can dress up some integrity and throw some sexy shoes on demeanor, holla at me. Until then,embrace your own swagg and just be. And nobody does that better than you.

Love,
Vee

Patient, Patient Kind, Kind...THAT'S LOVE

Time. Our entire life revloves around it.

The essence of time has always intrigued me. As I've grown, I've observed our obsession with time. Our alrams on our cell phones. The appointment books we fill and still seem to miss appointmes. The disappointment of things not happening on our time. Basically, our lives are centered around time.

Believe me, as you're reading this, someone is dying and someone is being birthed into this world. Someone, somewhere, is living what they may consider their happiest momoments, while someone else has rock bottom. And all this happens in its own time. I believe the element of time has too much control over our lives. True, everything needs to be done in its own time. And even more true, time is money; don't waste it. However, it is patience that we tend to lack. The act of waiting for what you beleive should have already took place or should be presently happening. Patience is an invisible reminder that you are faithful enough for outcomes that will satisfy you. More so,  patience...that's love.

The Bible says (Ecclesiastes 3) that God has a time for everything. There is a time for life, a time for death. A time for love, a time for hate. A time to weep, a time to laugh. A time to to kill, a time to heal, A time to speak, a time for silence. So yes, our lives revolve around time. But we shouldn't revolve our lives around a minute hand or an hour hand. Because patience will get us anywhere quicker.

Waking up and realizing that you're not where you want to be in your life makes you blame time. Having a baby freshmen year of college, you blame time. All while God is laughing from above simply because we're not on our own time...we are on HIS time. And everything, every single thing, happens on His watch. Little do we realize, everything is not on our clock.

Be patient and enjoy the moments of life, good and bad. Because time is something we'll never get back. Take advantage of each second, love every minute and cherish every hour. This way, your days are valued...with patience.

Love,
Vee

One LOVE, One HEART. Let's get TOGETHER and feel ALRIGHT

I'm worried for this world. And we are truly divided; and I'm not talking just geographically.

 I'm worried for the babies being brought into families that are broken and situations that are usually decided by the courts. Tired of our city and state officials stealing from our hoods for their selfish wants. Sick of the racism that's hidden inside a history that needs to be let go. And sick to my stomach for playing part in so many segregating systems that's just not getting any better.

I find more unity observing street gangs than families.  And the lack of unity is what got us in this place. The lack of love.

I think too often when we discuss the disconnect in our society, we imply that race is the only issue. But I beg to differ. Age. Education. The town you live in. We're all under some damn caste system, separating us by what we have, the money we make that equates to power. This puts some at an advantage, others a disadvantage.

And the U-N-I-T-Y that Queen Latinas spoke of has become division.

My solution? I wish I had one. I wish I had the power to bring all countries together in peace, no wars. No hate. I wish that our cities would have leaders that care too much to rob innocent people.

I wish for a revolution.

Love,
Vee

Endless LOVE

Seems like so much of the world is looking forward to the end of the world, that they're not enjoying their present lives.

Aramageddon, 2012, Apocolypse, Illumaniti...so many things are dictating when our lives, as we know it, will end. So many people are living in fear; so many people are ready to go. And regardless of which end of the spectrum represents you...each end is pretty extreme.

I'm not sure of everyone's personal beliefs and who everyone considers a higher power. However, my higher power tells me not to worry, because when He comes back, I'm going with him. So He's my calendar. No fear of the end lives within me.

If you are one that is afraid, skeptical or just plain paranoid about what's going to happen if we keep ruining the ozone, and what will happen if our lives are really based on the Mayan calendar...then I encourage you to  stop. Stop and live because death is inevitable. You will meet death eventually. We all will, And when it comes knocking at our front door, we won't be able to escape it.

Right now, enjoy the life that is here. Understand that all that is put around you is to experience...without fear of one day leaving it behind.

On the contrary, I do believe that the world has enough evidence to believe that our days are coming to an end. With the massive amounts of tsunamis hitting, massive animal deaths, earthquakes splitting, tornados, tidal waves...our earth is in a brutal fight with nature. And nature is winning. So if the earth can't win against nature, what makes you think you can?

Cherish your days here and do not leave fearfully; paranoid about what is next for the world. Concentrate on what is next for you.

Love,
Vee

Def POETRY LOVE (EXCLUSIVE with MALIK YUSEF)

I first met Malik Yusef at a poetry jam back in high school over 10 years ago. And I must say, his voice and his raw talent with words took grip of my soul and never let go. I am a lover of words and an even bigger lover of poetry. Like Malik, I believe poetry is a form of art; it shows the power and validity of words.

I'll always remember seeing Malik Yusef as a teenager, and as usual, with a head wrap showing his pride for who he is as a black man. And hearing him spit his spoken word like it was second nature for him to rhyme like that. His metaphors, his passion, he was so real then on that stage. And he still is.

"I see words like they are alive," Malik said. "And that's how rhymes come to me."

Malik is widely known for his place as one of Russell Simmons Def Poets for HBO's Def Poetry Jam. He said he especially enjoyed being around other Def Jam Poets that he honored and respected.

Malik said that the first poet to ever inspire him was William Shakespeare. He defines poetry as "the rhythm of life."

I last saw Malik Yusef at Russell Simmons book signing, looking just as good as he wanted to look. And even though he didn't share any lyrical common sense with the audience that day, Russell gave him a shout out. So you know the man got skills.

"Russell Simmons is a mentor, a friend," he said. "I can call Russell for anything, anytime."

He has definitely earned his bragging rights as an artist. He's done work with President Barack Obama and said that the president reached out to him personally for a special project. He got his first break when New Line Cinema Director Ted Witcher commissioned him to coach Larenz Tate in the romantic drama "Love Jones" which went on to garner a Sundance Film Festival Award and three NAACP Image Awards. While filming in Chicago, Yusef additionally made a cameo as a guest spoken word artist.

In 2007 Malik showed his ass again when he collaborated with Director Frey Hoffman (Kanye West’s “Jesus Walks,” Sa-Ra' featuring Erykah Badu and Talib Kweli "Feel the Bass") for the film adaptation of Yusef’s poem "Hollywood Jerome." The two contemporaries previously joined forces for Yusef’s 2005 music video “Wouldn’t You Like to Ride” featuring Kanye West and Common. Their film "The Untimely Demise of Hollywood Jerome" which also includes Kanye West and Twista, also products of Chi City.

"I felt proud to work with my fellow Chicago brothers. Common is like a brother to me and Kanye is like a little brother."

He gives big ups to Chi City's very own Lupe Fiasco and says that he is intelligent. "We have to raise people's expectations," he said. "It's a lot of artists in the game who are not as prolific as they could be."

As a talented product of Chi City, Malik says the streets of Chicago has made him smart, and he credits his home for teaching him lessons that has put him on as a businessman. He's a daddy and says that life is a big juggle and it is all a part of what he does.

"I'm still trying to figure it all out," he said.

The streets of Chicago have taught me respect, and hustle. I took that away with me, it made me who I am."

THEY got that HOOD LOVE

Just last week, myself and Commentator John Fountain III did a week long series of letters on baby momma and baby daddy love and hate. The complications. The embarrassments. The pain. One thing we didn't dig too deep into, however, is the domestic aspect, an element in young and old realtionships that can become a huge issue. And that my loves, is what I will be discussing today. The so called hood love that we share in our relationships that are tainting our hoods and the hearts of the people in them.

So funny, God puts you just where you need to be. I knew before today that I'd run this piece and ended up ironically enough covering a domestic violence summit this morning for another project I freelance for. And at the summit, were men, currently all property of the Illinois Department of Corrections, who shared testimonies about beating their women, and getting beat by their women. The shit was deep.

It got me thinking about situations that I know are playing out in my hood and even things that has played out in my own life. And I gotta keep it real, that life isn't cute. There is nothing attractive about police at your momma's front door because you did something crazy to your boyfriend's car, bruising up your man or pulling out your girl's tracks out of her head. What's messed up, this so called hood love is actually what's up in our communitites. Many schools that I personally work in and many students I mentor, they are living this shit. He hit me because my ex called, I hit him because he called me a bitch. Their living it...and many adults that are forced to bare that, they have lived it, too.

So let's be upfront about some things here. And as usual, I point the fingers at myself too when necessary. The abuse that happens in a domestic relationship comes from somewhere. We always talk about that part. The insecure woman, the angry man from a broken home. The cases vary...but that's all we really conclude. But what's really up? Could it be that society has allowed the media and the forces around us to dictate that this type of sick twisted shit is acceptable, attractive? Has the disrespect that travels from hood to hood gotten that deep? Is it alright that our male role models are getting 15 years with an L...for whooping their women's asses? Too many of the figures our young people look up to are displaying a disrespect that's got some things twisted. It's not cute to put a woman out after having her body. I mean, damn, even Marty Mart had a decency when kicking people out.

The stereotypes around it, as usual, are wack as hell. The fact that a man should NEVER hit a woman should be reciprocated. A damn woman should NEVER hit a man. And ladies, we know some of our men are not always to blame, we push them to unhealthy points... and hell, we gotta take responsibility for the role we had in getting our ass choked up for talking disrespectful, doing some out of line stuff to strip our man of his manhhood.

Regardles off whether or not any of this madness is hard to admit, and trust me, I know that it is, we play a part. So quit playing victims out here and blaming the wrong things that's only turning all this into a big secret and a joke, where police don't even take it seriously enough to protect us. And confront your issues as woman. It's not deserved by anyone, but reality is, it takes to two to shatter a relationshi. Two fists, two hearts. And  real talk, most times, it could take all of two damn minutes.

Love,
Vee

LOVE ya like a FAT kid LOVE cake

Childhood obesity is a sign of shame in our hoods. And it weighs on my heart just how much we are ignoring the issue, as if we don't even see it. We allow our young people to stuff their emotions down Flamin Hot Cheeto bags and eat away their insecurities, to the point of where they're insecure.

And we watch, we criticize, we point fingers at the local schools for their bogus excuses of lunches, get mad at our aldermen and mayors of neighborhood food deserts...and our kids fall to the waist side; neglected and facing an issue that can dictate their lives and possibly, their deaths.

I wonder if it's sometimes our fault as parents for our overweight and unhealthy children? Is it our laziness that serves McDonalds for a late dinner as opposed to getting our asses up and cooking a healthy meal? Is it us to blame when our child dismisses vegetables the same way they see us dismiss them? Not sure who is to blame, but I worry about the health of these babies out here. Some of their bodies are on roads to destruction, and their only option to detour is mixed on a plate of food that's to damn greasy. We need help. Let's face it.

First Lady Michelle Obama and other prominent figures have called this a national crisis. You're damn right. It's national because it will impact all of us. Anytime our young people's bodies are in danger of diabetes, hypertension, high cholesterol, prostate cancer...we need to stand up and recognize that we are all responsible. We are responsible for what we teach them about their health and bodies; and we're responsible for what we don't teach them. And like we should hold ourselves accountable, we should reassure that our young people hold themselves accountable and learn to value their bodies and the things that go in them.

Truth of the matter is, some of these young people escape to food because it's the most comforting thing they got to look forward to. A bag of  99 cent chips and pack of Now and Laters may just be what clears your mind before going home to a disfunctional house and to a disfunctional family. So let's be sure we're evaluating the issue thoroughly, because it came from somewhere. The root of childhood obesity is one that we may not like to be held accoutnable for, but we should be.

Our kids are not forced to do much moving anymore, hell, not even in their gym classes. Since the days of internet surfing, reality television and video games...their leisure is not guaranteeing good health. Most of their entertainment involves sitting down and most of that involves snacking, mostly on empty calories that are either causing extreme weight gain, and/or health issues. And we know the diseases that plague our hoods and the futures of our young people. Yet, we still sit back and watch the severity of childhood obesity, complain about it... and do nothing.

Not sure about other adults out here, but I'm not willing to lose future generations to Little Debbie honey buns, double cheeseburgers and large fries. They don't deserve to go out like that. We don't deserve to witness it. We can all do better. And when we know better, we do better.

Love,
Vee

One MIC, One LOVE: EXCLUSIVE with AKISHA LOCKHART

All she needs is one mic.

I remember my first encounter with Akisha Lockhart. We went to school together at Columbia College Chicago, she was a broadcast journalism major, and I was in print. I was running for senator for the college's student government...and so was she. And I spent a whole day hanging up my campaign posters just to find that the next day, she had hung her damn posters right next to mine! And everywhere you saw Vee's face for senator, you saw Akisha's.

So, you know what I was thinking right? Who does she think she is?...and she even had a cute little slogan I'd never forget: "Lock Your Vote with Akisha Lockhart".

Heffer.

But then I finally met her at a student government meeting and loved her since. And more so than the brilliance of her strategic campaigning, she's intelligent, sexy, outspoken, a force to be reckoned with. Classy but a straight up homegirl. On any given day, you can find her in a button down, skirt and stilletos or a Celtics Jersey, blue jeans and gymshoes. She is an angel to all the arts.

Akisha's got a love for what she does and her light shines so bright that even through her perfectly chocolately skin, her cheeks still get rosey when she blushes. So genuine, so humble. And let's be honest, black women, two powerful black women, don't always see eye to eye. But me and Akisha did. We saw eye to eye and vibed heart to heart.We share so many traits: including an imperfectly perfect gap between our two front teeth. We call them our beauty marks.

And damn, the girl is talented. When she's busy at work, regardless of where she is, Akisha says she's "in the lab". And believe me, girlfriend cooks up some good stuff in that lab of hers! She's interned for Harpo Studios, worked with Clear Channel and the Big Ten Network. And her newest baby, an absolute masterpiece: allineedisonemic.com. It is her website that serves as a platform for people with a dream. And a place for Akisha to live hers.

"God put it on my heart to start this new venture with my website," she said. "I've had dreams of becoming a talk show host or an entertainment reporter. And because those dreams did not manifest as quickly as I thought they could have, God put it on my heart to use my passion as my gas and basically go forth with my dreams."

Her website, which she describes as being in its "toddler stage", has featured some of the hottest talents across the world and she's been granted opportunities to meet an array of people in the music, sports and acting industry ranging from Chicago's WGCI radio team to P Diddy. She's unstoppable. The lady's got mad swag, and you can see it before she opens her mouth. Her style is colorful and her demeanor is demanding. She demands your attention...with the check of a mic.

"God is the driving force behind all of this. I want to give people a chance to showcase their dreams."

Ambition. That's what I think of as I write this letter on Akisha Lockhart. Chi town weather has made her resilient, life's lessons have made her wise. And she admits, there is so much more to learn. So much more to share. And a hell of a lot more to do.

"We're in the lab working on some new things. So follow me. It's going to be sort of a surprise."

Check out my exclusive videos with Akisha Lockhart! And follow her on twitter @AkishaLockhart and friend her on Facebook at Akisha Lockhart.

Love you! And  so much Love and Respect for Akisha Lockhart, Respect her hustle...and her mic,
Vee

One MIC, One LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with AKISHA LOCKHART (Part 1)

From Vee to You

One MIC, One LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with AKISHA LOCKHART (Video 2)

From Vee to You

One MIC, One LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with AKISHA LOCKHART (Part 3)

LOVE without a LIMIT

I often times see materialistic things swallow our hoods like bad food. And a lot of us are digesting it all, and emptying our already empty pockets to do so.We shop, with no limit. We pull up to drive thrus and supersize each item, no limit. We purchase the latest smart phones, clothes, shoes, hairstyles...with no limit. And once our budget has met its limit, many of us keep on spending...with no damn limit.

Then we have credit cards that, like us, have reached their limit. We get back on our bills to the point of no catching up and we rely on borrowing a few bucks from others just to get us to the next paycheck. Point blank, we sometimes become careless with our finances and end up in the negative because we don't honor our limit. And sometimes, too often, our love for money and things is a love without a limit.

I believe, and I'm no Suze Orman, but I believe often times we have trouble saving because we have a bigger trouble spending. And that trouble can lead us down a spiraling road; sometimes depression, sometimes even homelessness. And that's when you no longer control the money because the money is busy controlling you.

Let's evaluate the nature of spending beyond our limit: Some of us are truly addicted to retail. And no men, it is not just my ladies that I am referring to with excessive shopping habits. Some of you have spending issues as well, so stop hiding behind the stererotypes. It's a universal issue that has caused a national crisis. And it's so funny to me that everyone blames the government for this recession...when many of us were in a recession long before George Bush annonced it to the public. A lot of us were dealing with a deficit years ago; and now we've gotten used to the life. But let me be the first to tell you, being broke and working every single day is insane. And many of us and our broken budgets are defining insanity

In order to save, know the importance of saving. Understand that it takes discipline and may be difficult, but entirely worth it. Being oblivious to what may come, good or bad, is an even greater reason to save. Learning to invest can better our lives, the lives of our children and their children as well. Too many lessons for our young people are blasting through our airwaves about the wrong ways to handle money and what money represents. This can explain why to most young people, cars and clothes are more important than college.

Money can make us do some crazy things. And the lack of makes us do crazier things than that. Nothing is wrong with spending and having nice things, especially if you work hard to earn those things. However, it is an important lesson to know your limit, save some of what you make, and budget wisely. After all, the money goes fast; your values stay with you.

Love,
Vee

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 7)

I would always wonder that. Wondered if you were sorry. You said it so many times and I can't decipher a sincere apology versus a wasted lie. But that one seemed sincere.

Maybe you're the one that deserves better. Maybe you deserve a fair chance, clearance to be afraid, adolescent and confused. And I never gave you a chance. Maybe you deserve a lady, someone who acts with respect, and not act out Angela Basset scenes, waiting to exhale a hate that's fake. And whether I remain BM or upgrade one day to wifey, I'm the mother of our child. A lady who wouldn't say and do shit to strip you down, deny you of a love from a being that needs you, like you need it.

Maybe our baby deserves better. A more mature set of parents who lives with their shitty consequences, and do what's right. A daddy who would be there, a momma who wouldn't run daddy away. A nursery, not a damp basement that caters to some type of living that we know our child deserves. Maybe our baby doesn't even deserve this life. But regardless, it's a life we're responsible for.

So I was your Brown Sugar huh? Well I guess that made you my Baby Boy. And Jody, my Jody...some days I felt like the strength of your love could make my fly free as bird. Other times, I just wanted to fly the hell away. With the baby. Somewhere far; but my wings never let me.

Whether I'll be yours or someone else's, we share life. So let's make the best of it, with love this time. Because the baby deserves it. We deserve it.

Love,
Baby Momma

Baby Momma:

Agreed! And no matter what happens, from now on I want to open the gates of communication. I will allow you the freedom to express how you feel. I want to show you that this parenting responsibility was not meant to be a single person’s job.

I want to share that burden with you. I am reminded of the portrait that depicts a black man carrying woman and child. I know the road gets rough, but there is nothing that the two of us can’t accomplish. We are burdened by social stigmas of baby mommas and baby daddies. But I believe in you.

I know your strength and worth. I believe that you are the only reason that I could even dare to face the troubles of the day. And because I have faith in you makes me want our child to be proud to call me dad. I need the respect of you because it allows me to get pass the fear, anxiety and uncertainty of being a father. You are the glue that holds it together.

I don’t know what the future holds for us as it concerns a relationship. But I will admit to the goal of wanting to one day call you my wife. I know it is something that has to be earned and we haven’t even gotten this parenting thing down. But as a start, I will vow to always respect and love you for your role as the woman who faced death to bring forth life. You made the ultimate sacrifice. I am reminded each day of the beauty of you and our child.

We are doing better by giving us a chance to explore some of these emotions that rarely get confronting. We are giving our child a chance to see us for who we are.

Many times, baby mommas and baby daddies are not able to eloquently express what we have. But it doesn’t take college to say what your heart knows. The problem is that one or both of the parents are too stubborn to listen.

I’m glad you listened, talked and worked through what you need to. I now have hope that we can enjoy our child before she grows up.

Love,

Baby Daddy

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 6)

BM:

I don’t know exactly what to do, but I will tell you that I am tired. I’m tired of arguing. I’m tired of the back and forth, tired of pretending, tired of pointing fingers.

So, I’ll be honest.


Tonight, I looked into the eyes of our child as I have done many times before and even though you say that he has all of my features, all I could see was you. I saw the reflection of a past romance that once mirrored traces of my future. I could picture the way we were, how we used to be. I reminisced on key events like our first date, our first kiss and the very first time I stuttered, “I love you.”I loved you like “Brown Sugar.” And you gave me my deepest spell of “Love Jones.” We walked summer nights in parks and got high off moon light and conversation. You nurtured my dreams and gave me hope when I had no one else in my corner. I felt like you were next of kin and “Brown Skin” became my favorite song while you called me your “Truth.” I learned the happy side of the blues. And you touched me in a way that transcended whatever I thought relationships to be.

And then the baby came. You had to rearrange your priorities.

So, I panicked, made some mistakes that ultimately cost our demise. I thought you were always angry at me for no reason. I thought you resented me for making you a baby momma and not a wife. I lost the ability to communicate with you, and then I had to share your attention with our child. I was no longer the primary object of your affection. I did not fully comprehend the physical and emotional transition of your body or our relationship.  

I needed something to numb the pain.

I covered up with the comfort of convenience and layered my emotions with anger. Feelings that led me to the company of the many “she’s,” avoiding the reality of us no longer together.  My shame just allowed me to keep going and long before I knew it, I was bitter about us.

Those women were never able to fill the void. They could never replace the feelings that were shared between us. But I could not stand to be alone.  I felt that any form of redemption was a lost cause. How could you forgive me after all I put you through?

And even though I still don’t know what the future holds or what the next step is, I want to apologize for my part in making this really difficult for you. You deserve better.

Love,
Baby daddy

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 5)

BD:

I have hope beyond you. And to be quite frankly honest, your presence in my life is what made me hopeless. So I AM dealing with it.

Every damn day I wake to take care of your child, I deal with it. Every time I fork over money to day care, I deal with it. I'm dealing with it every time I put her to sleep, wishing her sweet dreams with a bitter heart.

And you're damn right I'm bitter. I have a right to be.

And I never talk shit about you around our kid. It is you that's continually proven yourself to be the ass that you swear you're not. So trust, when the baby is old enough to understand, nothing will need to come out of my mouth. Your actions speak volumes to your parental shortcomings. I hear that shit loud and clear.

Why can't you just admit what's really got you pissed? You lost me. And that is ultimately driving you crazy... And it's secretly what's driving me crazy.

I stare at our baby a lot, uncomfortable knowing that I hold pains for her daddy that I can't let go. Anger that I can't control most of the times. It's a love lost and a hate pretended. And I know your act, and I'm sure by now, you know mine.

But instead of crying myself to sleep, I sleep unsettled and wake up tired. Tired of fighting against a pain that has torn me apart. Tired of pretending that I don't wish we were one big happy family. Tired of fronting like you're a deadbeat when I know if really given the opportunity, you could be a good daddy.

And with all the hope I push down to the pit of my stomach, I still can't believe in you. I guess I've been let down too much. Or perhaps I've let you down.

What the hell are we gonna do man?

Love,
Baby Momma

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 4)

Baby Momma:

Pretty much. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

But it was you that would ultimately be affected by having a child. It was you that made a decision in which you would carry most of the burden. It was you that made a bad choice in who you wanted to as the father of the child. Now deal with it.

And what is it too late for? Our child is young. There is a lot of life left. Children should get to decide how they view their fathers, but it’s always the mother spewing her opinion on how she thinks that relationship should go. If our child has any ill feelings, it has more to do with what you decide to or not to tell. But it also has a lot to do whether or not I’m around.

And sometimes my lack of presence has more to do with you whining about everything that has nothing to do with a father -child relationship. You whine, bitch and complain. You show elements of a bitter black woman. Most of the time I don’t want to deal with all of the constant nagging. We created a child, and I am doing my part.

Legally, after paying child support I have no other obligation. But we both can draw swords and battle about who has the moral high ground. You have tradition on your side. Most people tend to fall for the sob story of a single black mother from an impoverished neighborhood who had limited options, blah, blah blah… All that matters is our child; nothing more, nothing less.

Just deal with the fact that this relationship will forever be a part of your identity. And thus you will forever be connected to me. You essentially feed, clothe, love and nurture half of my D.N.A. Every time you look at our child, remnants of me show up—good or bad. This was your choice.

So, you are stuck. Forever a baby momma and even if you do get married—which statistically is damn near improbable at a 72 percent rate of unwed black single mothers—you will still be my baby momma. Which brings me back to my original point; Damned if you do and damned if you don’t?

Love,

Baby Daddy

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 3)

Baby Daddy:

Stuck? I'm most definitely not stuck with someone who can't even take care of his damn business. More importantly,  his own seeds.

What I am stuck with, however, is forever knowing that I could have made better choices for my life...choices that didn't equal you and me conforming to you. I'm stuck with knowing that one day I'll have to explain to our child why you weren't around. And that shit hurts. It hurts not to be a part of your days, not to make love to you, not to raise our kid with you. And it's fucked up to know I can't say these things to your face, so I'll let these words cry for me. Shit, I'm tired of crying

Funny how now you've grown so mature...more understanding... now that its too late. I believed in you, even when reality showed me that there was nothing to believe in. I went back, left, stayed and walked out again. I'm not content with riding this faulty ass roller coaster. So let me off this ride.

And you're right, there are things that you can teach our child that I can't. But there is one thing you forgot to mention: who will teach our child loyalty? Seems to me you know nothing about that. At least you act as if you don't. And who will teach our child the importance of keeping their word...because you damn for sure never keep yours.

But you do keep me coming back. But not this time. I think child support is what's best for now. And I want what's best for the baby. I'm not trying to hurt you, I hope you believe that. I just want to make sure my baby gets what my baby deserves; and it's bad enough that my baby isn't getting you.

I can't help but get mad everytime you come around because it's like you have no idea how stressful you're making this situation. And how stressful it is that you always blame me. I'm tired of being the bad person. And it seems as if I can't escape it. If I keep you around, everyone thinks I'm being stupid. If I decide to just be a single mom, everybody thinks I'm stupid. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Love,
Baby Momma

Thin line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 2)

Baby Momma:

This relationship has been the most defining one of my life. I don’t know how men have multiple baby mommas. And I feel for the baby mommas that have multiple baby daddies with deadbeats, but your—our situation is unique.

I never took life from you. I gave it to you. We decided to bring forth a child into this world. You consented to an act that had consequences. You were the one that decided to have a baby out of wedlock. The circumstances before the baby were not perfect, but there was never an ounce of me that would not have done anything to make you happy. But there were also some truths that life did not reveal to me until later.

The truth of the matter is that our conflicts rarely have anything to do with the child. It has more to do with our residual feelings from our relationship, one that was on-track for marriage.  Maybe one or both of wish “what if.”  What if we had not thrown three years all away for a 30-minute argument? What if your mother was not so willing to accept you back when you wanted to leave our family? What if I was armed with the emotional maturity I have now; A lot of “what ifs;” Questions that we do not have answers to right now.

We have a child that’s all that matters. We have to come to some kind of civil arrangement.
I need you to understand that you do not have any control over my son’s relationship with me. You have to start understanding your limitations as a mother. You are only one part of him and cannot complete his identity. You can try to define it all you want, but you are a mother. And no matter how hard you try you can never be the mother and father. You are just a mother that has to fill the role of a father. But you know nothing about how to equip him with the knowledge of being a man and a black man. You know nothing of the kinship between a father and a son. You are a mother. Know that; accept it; internalize that there are some things that you will never be able to teach him.

And as far as me paying child support, I am doing the best that I can. I’m working and I am in school with the hope that one day I can provide a better life for him. These are tough economic times. Sometimes I have to work overtime or study. I sacrifice a lot of my personal time to see him, but for you that is never enough. But it brings me back to my initial point of you also making that decision to be a single mother.

I feel bad for other women who don’t have a fraction of the devotion that I put towards you. It sucks. I know. Other women don’t get child support. Other men have multiple children by other women and you just have to take a number and wait. I am able to only attend to your concerns.

I just wish I had the emotional maturity to deal with our spats back then. I wish I could have really known what it was that you and I were committing to. To me, this bond will forever be.  Wives and husbands can go, but that title baby momma sets fear in potential partners.

You yield a power so deep. There are emotional ties that I was just made aware of after a conversation with my sister, complicated things that you assume men should know, but don’t.
It is and was always about communication. We never talked about the impact of the baby on both our lives and what role society plays in socializing us into these different characterizations and behaviors.

I think we both know what we want for our child, but have different views or expectations of how we see parenthood. And that is okay.

I hope we can mutually agree to become better friends because, let’s face it; we are stuck with each other.

Love,
Baby Daddy

THIN line Between LOVE and HATE (Part 1)

Baby Daddy:

Who the hell do you think you are? Really? You think you can just take my life from me? Give me a damn baby, make me postpone college and have my whole damn family looking at me like I'm a fool? Shit, I am, because every time I go through your call logs you've talked to her. And I know you two doing more than just talking. And you're spending more time with her than the baby. Damn deadbeat.

And I realize our relationship is undefined, untitled. But I guess to you that means you're single. So do you and I'll do me.

Does it make you feel like a man to have a little bust down somewhere doing you good while I'm here in the basement of my parent's house with your kid? I see you buy more bags of weed than bags of diapers. And the only bottles I see you tipping are beer bottles. But I guess like you cried out when I was pregnant a year ago, you're scared. And you'll do better. That shit still hasn't come to past. And I keep on waiting.

Are those Wal Mart checks that you barely giving to your baby supposed to meet our survival needs? Should I be impressed that you stop by the house to see us twice a week? What the hell is that? Should I be okay with having to tell you to be a man, be a damn daddy?

But I guess you think you just father of the year because you strut in here with a pair of baby sized Nikes and an outfit. Well you're not. Me and my baby don't need your shit, or your inconsistent love. Nor do we need your dive-by visits. Stay the hell away. You don't deserve us.

But I can't seem to stop caring about your sorry ass. Believing in you like a colorful ass fairytale, except i'm dreaming in black and white.

Waiting for change,
Vee

Thin Line Between LOVE and HATE

I watch the movements of our hoods and I observe the things that keep us stagnant. I study the outdated curriculum that our streets learn and live by. And I realize that the misplaced puzzle pieces to our homes are wrongly placed together to make incorrect pictures of our families.

And the broken families begin with the relationships with the broken parents. Yes, the baby mommas and baby daddies. And damn, I hate to call us that, but sometime we deserve a bogus ass title when we exemplify bogus behavior.

This week, starting tomorrow, myself and one of the dopest writers I know, John Fountain III, will write a series of love letters on baby daddy and baby momma love...and hate. It's an element of society, an aspect of our hoods, that is strongly misunderstood and extremely destructive.

So we'll give it to you, the hard, honest, beautiful, fucked up truth. The truth that has our generations falling like Alicia Keys, is that we can't mend these relationships because we're ashamed of them, hurt by them. And so our anger is displaced, causing family commotions and children neglect.

Time for the truth. Or at least ours.

 Love,
Vee

MUSIC for LOVE: EXCLUSIVE with CARESS SAHURA

When I walked into the Red Kiva that night, I had no clue love would become re-defined to me. And before then, I had began to turn my back on the validity of today's music, lyrics and the purpose it was serving in our hoods. Until Caress Sahura. It was REFUGE Sundays presentation of HIGHER. And that was the exact direction of my soul...because Caress's voice took my soul higher.

Starting as early as kindergarten, Caress grew in love with music, one of those love sick feelings like you have for your first crush. She said that after a while "music was all she knew." She began singing for fun, then as her love for music took off, her talent for it began to fly. She now performs consistently throughout Chi City, where she was born and raised, perfecting her craft. She works proudly as an independent artist and says she doesn't plan to go mainstream, but if it happens, it happens. More so than a career, it's a commitment, a life.

"Me and music have an unconditional marriage," said Caress. "We work together. I love music and it's a part of my everyday life."

A sight for sore eyes, a sound for lost hope. Caress Sahura's music shifts the soul right into place. Her beautiful complexion of darkness tells her story of strength and black pride. She carries a special love inside her, an old soul that gives off a sense of hope for this sometimes hopeless world. And she credits her roots for paving the way.

"My ancestors inspire me because they pretty much paved the way for me," she said. "I'm so in tune with soul music."

And she does it all for the love. She gives so much love to Aniba Hotep and the Sol Collective, her band. And a special love to her drummer, Anthony Capers whom she describes as a brother. I must say, they make a hell of a team. Her genre reminds me of a soulful India Arie with a bad girl swag, but sweet as pie. She remembers growing up on Brandy and described her as "classic." Her soul tells a lyrical story. And when you hear her, everything wrong fades away for that moment. I was in a zone. And so was Caress.

"I feel like my music will represent positivity because it's so much negativity in the world. With me representing that, the world needs my voice. Being on stage is one of those unexplainable feelings. It's love...on another level."

Enjoy my exclusive videos of Caress's performance this past month at the Red Kiva. From Vee to You!

P.S. Follow Caress Sahura on Twitter @NILEDISIAC and add her on Facebook at Caress Sahura to follow her performance schedule.

MUSIC for LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with CARESS SAHURA (Part 1)

From Vee to You

MUSIC for LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with CARESS SAHURA (Part 2)

From Vee to You

MUSIC for LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with CARESS SAHURA (Part 3)

From Vee to You

MUSIC for LOVE: EXCLUSIVE video with CARESS SAHURA (Part 4)

From Vee to You

I LOVE girls girls girls girls, GIRLS I do ADORE

I've been battling with myself about publishing this piece. I guess my fear is that I really don't know where I stand in terms of lesbianism in our culture...it's hard to say if it's completely wrong vs not being able to control our own heart. Or maybe a combination of both...

I wonder if the root of lesbianism is the cause of broken hearts from men, experimentation gone too far or just lonely hearts that meet and dare to take it there. And a lot of it stems from shame, shame that just maybe somebody wouldn't love our irregularity. Shame that the world would outcast us, or maybe accept us enough to accept ourselves. The shit is complicated.

I'm not knocking no one, I'm the first to admit that the heart cannot be controlled, shit happens. And with femininity, where emotions are completely high, I can't help but wonder if many lesbians are first falling emotionally, because that's what females do, and allowing the physical to dominate their flesh.

So many young ladies I mentor, family members I love, women I look up to are in this category, many open and many hiding behind transparent rainbows. But I see you, whether you're emulating the life of a man, or grasping the glamour of a girl. I hate the categories, butch, fems...hell, how about people? Lesbianism has gone way beyond the thin walls of college dorm rooms where besties may have had one too
many drinks. Or way beyond HBO after dark.

Lesbians are in our junior highs, our high schools, our churches. Some young girls are giving it a try because their boyfriends like to say my girl got a girlfriend. Some women are giving it a try because, hell, their men are giving other women a try, too.

My concern is this: our women and our young girls are the center of reproduction. So how will lesbianism play out in terms of keeping our place in the circle of life? Has this way of life become normality, so norm that we have all become blinded to how it may play out in our homes, our families?

At the end of the day, we love who we choose. No scripture, no critic, no parental code can change that. But let's be sure how we share our hearts and how our companionship may effect the young impressionable hearts around us. And more importantly, let's reassure that we're loving from our hearts and not for a lifestyle that doesn't even define us.

Love,
Vee

SUCKA for LOVE

What we won't do, do for love...we try everything, but we won't give up. Man I don't know who hit the heart harder with those lyrics, Bobby Caldwell or Tupac Shakur. Both, however, ain't never lied. We all suckas for love...and I believe that could be okay, but sometimes it can be an issue for us.

In previous love letters to you, I've discussed elements of real love and how to decipher whether or not love is tainted. And as I said before and I'll say again, I'm no love guru. Hell, far from it. I've been a sucka for love, and if you haven't, one day you will be. Or maybe you are right now but someone playing you so good you don't even realize it. Everybody plays a fool, my loves. But don't be no fool forever.

Love can be tricky, as I'm sure many of you know. It snatches us up, sweeps us off our feet, dances with us, takes us  home, makes love to our bodies, our minds and our souls. And the next morning, it's either there to continue a life with us, or its gone. Just that easy. And as easy as it is to end, it can be extremely hard to get over.

But to keep it there, some of us take extreme measures, some of us act as suckas, letting love keep us in a choke hold with a tight ass grip. Some of us go back everytime she yells she's pregnant with your baby, turn around everytime he say he's changed for the better and this time, he's going to stay on this job and provide for you. Some of of us just give in and take too much when we know that it's time to give the shit up, hell pass time. But we sit and wait like commuters on a CTA bus stop. And most times, we wait in vain for change because the heart on the other end no we will. And they also know as long as we wait, the longer they can act an ass.

Now believe me, I'm not pinpointing any particular sex here. We can all be suckas for love, men and women. It is an emotion that can strengthen us and weaken us, all at the exact same time. But once love has you wrapped us around its finger so tight that there is no wiggle room, we then become weak for love, weak for a person, weak for an emotion that you have placed above your own being. No heart is worth that. Neither is any emotion.

Love,
Vee

No ORDINARY LOVE

I grew up with a handicapped little sister, only eleven months younger than I am. And I'd always think about just how close we are in age, damn near twins. And how it could have been me born with cerebral palsy, not her. And I hate that I allow myself to think that. But I hate even more that I'm actually glad that it's merely a thought, and I don't have to live that way.

I think we as a society do the disabled a disability when we categorize them as helpless. But I believe an even worse disservice to the disabled is the lie that says they are no different than those that are "normal". Because yes, they are.

I think reality is when we see someone handicap we instantly feel a sense of discomfort, sympathy. Some of us thank our lucky stars that we weren't born like that. And most handicap have that same wish. Except the wishful pennies they toss in that wishing well are pennies with holes in them. Hopeless.

Is it wrong for us to be grateful that we were born "normal"? Or is it unfair to feel bad for the disabled because their body parts aren't parallel to the way we're used to seeing them?

I wonder sometimes if the true discomfort that we have with the handicap is the real challenge that it gives us. The challenge to just accept that we feel bad for them, and as selfish as it sounds, we're glad they're not us. Some of us are glad we don't require walkers to walk, braces on our legs and wheelchairs controlling our movements. Because truth be told, some of us just could not handle that life...or maybe we could, and just would never know that since we don't have to.

Let's define the word handicap; it describes a person who has a disability and is impaired in some way. And I can't help but wonder if we're all living handicapped, some cases mild, some extreme. Other cases visible, some discreet.

Love,
Vee

LOVE in this CLUB

I remember when I was about 17 and I was sooo thirsty to get into a club. And in the hood that I was in at the time, Bellwood, it was all about this teen club called Nitro. Looking back now, that place was wack as hell. Nothing but a sweatbox with minors pretending to be grown by engaging in what we thought were grown things. But then, me and all my girls and homies thought it was the place to be. And it was.

Something about the club, though, makes me ponder about some shit. And it could be just once I get all dolled up,  the liquor hit my system and lyrics to dumb tracks start sounding good, that my mind starts to dissect what's really happening in the club. And it is definitely something about the club and the sensation of it that's got our hoods going crazy...going broke and making money, all at the same time.

Some of us wait all damn week, until Friday or Saturday night, to get to the club. Hell some of us don't even wait because we go every night or every other night of the week. We find the latest hot spot in the hood with a decent DJ, enough space, our type of people and bottles at the bar. And that, to me, is a pretty good time, if I'm in the mood. But let's discuss that shall we, the mood of the club...Let's discuss the actual mood of the club versus the mood we're really in with ourselves and the people around us.

Sometimes I feel, and this may just be Vee, that the club is a platform for our young women and men to hide inside of shells of cool ass oufits and stuff our securities and emotional issues down Ciroc bottles where we won't remember the truth the next morning. Some of us walk into a club swallowing straight lies, no chasers, about who we are, before even making it to the bar. Some of us go the club seeking some kind of validation for who we are, and end up behaving like who we are not.

If you go out to the club and your man or woman is back home, this may not be for you. Or maybe it is...So often times I've witnessed the club and the sensation of being inside the club an issue to our hoods; and an issue that some of us are trying to deal with within; yet, we run to handle it at the club. Hoping that perhaps someone shows attention by throwing a 10 dollar drink our way, or a compliment, or taking us home and keeping the night a secret.

I'm talking about insecurity...that demon that we can't seem to shake and hide because it's written all over our face...and honey if he's worth it, he can see it beyond your eyeshadow and lipgloss. And any real woman can smell right past your discounted cologne. But yet and still, some of us, too many of us, go to the club looking for some type of answers to questions that are rhetorical because we already know the truth and we're just to afraid to admit it: The club is for a good time, a chance to show off and be free. And very rarely will you seek and find your true love there, so stop looking. And more impotantly, stop pretending and running to the club to try to make believers.

T.I.'s openinng track  on his latest album "No Mercy" is called "Welcome to the World". He, with the help of Kanye West and Kid Cudi, speaks on those who may go the club to seek real love. And how they won't find it there. And those brothers are speaking the truth, to men and women. Because the momentum of the club is not for that...and we all know that. Not everyone leaves with someone, but many of us, men and women, do... either someone you know or someone you don't know. And some of us walk into a club with those very intentions. And many of them leave out the clubs with their souls and hearts still at the bar or on the dance floor.

We want to be wanted, we need to be needed and we like to have a good time in the process...that's really the basis of the club. That's really why we all go out of our way to get fly, save our money all week and make sure our whip is clean or we got a ride. We like the club because it makes us feel good about who we are, what we got and what we be on. But once we begin to get lost in those things and that feeling, we start looking to the club to do things that the club just isn't meant to do.


Love,
Vee

In LOVE wit yo BOOTY: EXCLUSIVE with JOHN BLU

As a sucka for Chi City and all that it produces, I knew I had to get John Blu's story on From Vee to You. And even though the lyrics to his first hit single "In Love Wit Yo Booty" are not anything I would listen to with momma and daddy, I gotta say it gets me moving in the club.

But moreso than his lyrics about women backsides, John Blu is doing his thing and representing Chi City to the fullest. And yall know Vee is a sucka for her city, but this time it wasn't just that that got me. Sitting and talking with him was like hollering at a homie from my old block. He was incredibly down-to-earth, cool as hell. And he even granted me an interview in between his rehearsal time...and that's hustlling.

His demeanor is calm and collect, his ambition and hunger for his music is not. He has created his own genre of music that he calls "Hip Pop and R&B". John Blu has been nicknamed the R&B Bully...and with good reason.

"Hard work pays off," he said. "I would sometimes call off of work that made money to have more time in the studio."

And his hardwork has indeed paid off...as he's getting paid! John Blu is currently signed with Jive Records. His second single can now be heard through your airwaves on 107.5 WGCI and Power 92.3. "Cologne" featuring Twista and Gucci, got us all moving and going out to buy cheap smell goods at our local department stores. And he got the clerks from those department stores and everybody else all over the city of Chicago moving to his music, too.

"I feel like if you ain't got your own city, how can you try to get another city. You have to capture your own city first."

Check out my exclusive videos below with John Blu and his crew! From Vee to You...

Love,
Vee

In LOVE wit yo BOOTY: EXCLUSIVE video with JOHN BLU (Part 1)

From Vee to You

In LOVE wit yo BOOTY: EXCLUSIVE video with JOHN BLU (Part 2)

From Vee to You

In LOVE wit yo BOOTY: EXCLUSIVE video with JOHN BLU (Part 3)

From Vee to You

In LOVE wit yo BOOTY: EXCLUSIVE video with JOHN BLU (Part 4)

From Vee to You

DANGEROUSLY in LOVE

I think Beyonce had this particular love sounding real good. And being in love at its ultimate where your love and someone's love for you is unconditional, is a beautiful thing. But losing yourself completely in another person is not. And I consider that dangerous, dangerously in love.

We often times listen to the hype and then start seeking for someone to "complete" us. Or go around looking to complete someone else. However, let me be the one to tell you my loves, you were born complete. All of you, just you, is good enough. Perhaps looking for someone to compliment you is more practical. Because trying to have another human being complete you may be dangerous, so dangerous that you get lost in them and forget all about you.

Never in the laws and attractions of love is there not a risk involved. When we fall for that certain someone, we better find their loving. And our worse fear is that at the end, like Drake felt in his video, we're getting played.

So to avoid that, we work hard, most times too hard, to find their love. And sometimes for their love, we get desperate. Desperate enough to give up who we are, our beliefs and morale are thrown out the window and forgotten. And then we fall. Fall dangerously in love...

Our beings become entangled in someone else's and folks who love and know us become lost too, too lost to help direct us. But only our own hearts can be compasses to our own minds. And sometimes even that compass can lead us in the wrong direction.

Love with caution...and not even so much caution even not to get hurt. Hell, that doesn't protect you anyway. But love cautiously enough to know that in order to give love you have to be capable of loving you. And you can't love you if your heart, body, mind and soul are busy "completing" someone else.

Love,
Vee

A Heart is a HOUSE for LOVE

Being around family makes me think of home. And no matter how many places I'll ever live in my lifetime, I really believe there is no place like home.

Like we always hear, it starts at home. And a lot of us are jacked up due to some messed up homes. Shattered fragments of messed up memories where we wish the camera's flash wasn't working.

Society toss around some bogus ass labels that only GREAT kids come from two parent homes and pastor children are most rebellious and most females that are hoes must have never known their daddy...blah, blah, blah.

I say if somebody somewhere cared for you, then you are lucky. And that, my loves, that's home. Can't no place top the place you consider home.

Unfortunately a lot of our hoods are merely cocoons soon to be butterflies with broken wings. No chance to fly from the homes that are just that broken.

Then there's the merging of lives...making babies and adding on to families, becoming part of other families. And if the merge is right, that too is home. But nowadays too many of those particular homes are exhibits of boys forced to be men, crazy baby mommas and defenseless grandparents only wanting what's best. Homes that have become outlines of generations to come.

See home is not a place. It's not so much a location to Mapquest. Home is in your head, state of mind, a feeling that you can sort of touch. It's a house of love. And it can build us up, break us down, but it's home. No place like it, no person like you.

Love,
Vee

LOVING...just enough for the CITY

Duh, I talk about it like every damn blog piece! I love Chi City and guess what? A day after the birthday of my princess Sara, is the birthday of my city. Yes, today marks the 173rd year of the foundation of Chicago...So happy birthday Chi City!!!

I can't rep nothing I don't know nothing about. In the hoods I've been around, you get beat up for that. And I know this: this city been gangsta long before a lot of people know. So sit down all you dangerous Two Sixes and Moes who false flagging and couldn't even tell me about your 21 bricks. Man I know of stories where liquor and gangstas with the infamous black dob hat ran your streets, my streets and all this damn city. Streets where they took no mercy on fools trying to play them, I can bet this city is home to many dead bodies, souls between the bricks that now make our homes.

Real talk, and maybe it's just Vee, but I be tripping on all the places I could have been born and raised and God decided to drop me off out here in the Chi, out west somewhere off Chicago Avenue. Man, them so rough parts too at the time. Still are.

But I love Chi City for its brutal hustle. Because it's something about us, or at least it should be, that got some resilience out this world. We bounce back, we dodge bullets, we shoot bullets. A lot of us got December hearts from cold summers.

Out East, shout out to all yall. Never venture over there too much, what yall be on? Word is yall saditty, hell me too sometimes. Lets go shopping!!!

Up North, you've turned into  a place of wonder. My worries are constant, and it's not just yall street parking that startles me. The love that's being sought somewhere over rainbows where the colors aren't so bright and aint much gold at the end.

South Side: sucka for anything southern. Lover for the ambition in your streets and I'm west side all day but Harold's chicken with extra mild sauce got my heart. Always somebody that way trying to make it, a lot of yall do. But too many of yall not making your eighteenth birthdays.

West Side: My side. So much love for you, so many stories you've given me, many untold. You raised me. Lot of women out west be on some other but you taught me not to be your average.
And like your weather Chi town, my unpredictability makes me. Sometimes too hot to handle, sometimes cold as ice.

And much love for the burbs. On all sides. Something about Chi city burbs that's just as gangsta as its city parts, but it still give folks hope, at least it used to.

Chi city I carry you with me, the harsh winds that I push up against, and the bitter chills that made me strong.

Love,
Vee

I Knew I LOVED you BEFORE I met YOU

In honor of my daughter's birthday today, it wouldn't be right if I didn't dedicate today's love letter to her and what she means to me. This one, my dear love, is for you Sara Sa'Rah Monday...and I'll be sure to read it to you tonight at bedtime. However, allow me to share what you've meant to my life for the last past three years, to the rest of the world. Because this letter is also for every mommy and daddy out here who shares the same love for their babies as I do for my baby.

Happy Birthday!! We've been talking about this particular birthday since maybe your last birthday. And I'm so excited for you and your special day. You have brought me so much Sara, so much that you wouldn't even understand until later. And it hasn't been easy. But I'm sure any mother could second that.

I've been depressed, unsatisfied, downright scared of my next moves...all for you. Sometimes weak, helpless, broke as hell...all for you. I've challenged the manhood of your daddy, denied his love of you and of me, and sometimes hated the life that I brought you into. I wasn't ready, or at least I thought I wasn't...and again, I'm sure every mother could second that.

I still wake up scared, confused, not knowing what the hell to do when you catch fever or throw an unexpected tantrum in the middle of the grocery store. Many days are hard, mainly because they're unpredictable. But most days, my little princess, are irreplacable and just perfect. ALL days that I live, however, are because of you. The hard work, the tenacity, my strength; it all goes to you, Sara.

I still look in the mirror sometimes in a daze. Skinny jeans, size medium t-shirt, and 5 and a half  high top Nikes...all 145 pounds, 5 feet and 2 inches of me... and think, man, I'm somebody's momma! And the shock factor still hits me, still makes me nervous. But couldn't make me more happier. And then I flashback to the first day I knew you were growing inside of me, and how scared I was then. And memories of carrying you, loving you before I had even met you. Wanting the best for you before I had even seen your face. Our hearts would beat together then, and they beat together now.

For all you have brought to my life, and for all that I know you will bring, me and Daddy couldn't be happier to take this journey with you baby. So very proud of you. From the flip things you say that makes me either want to crack up laughing or scold you. To the sleepless nights where I have to force you to bed and the nights I just stare at you while in your bed. I love you princess Sara. Happy Birthday my love.

P.S. My special song for Sara is in my video bar to the left! Sara Smile...

Love,
Vee, a very proud MOMMY

In LOVE with a STRIPPER

One of the most taboo things in our culture, I believe, is porn and actually enjoying porn. I'm talking movies, websites, strip clubs...yes, all that. I believe that many of us are embarrassed to admit that to some extent, strip clubs, five dollar flicks from our local bootleg man and porn sites on the web that may cause viruses on our computers, are things that we sometimes enjoy.

Allow me to get grown and real here; whether your pornographic journey is alone or with your partner of choice, it can become an embarrassing moment. And in today's love letter, I want to discuss what makes those moments taboo; what is it that makes the idea of masturbation or viewing porn with your significant other on your living room flat screen seem...well, embarrassing? And why are we sometimes so ashamed about these things?

Let's first discuss sex in our culture. It's  possibly so taboo because of the way that it is thrown around, similar to the way that some of us throw ourselves around. And a lot of us do this, disregarding the fact that our bodies and the souls that we offer to others are to be treated with care. So this my loves, this is where the embarrassment and shame comes from. The shame then gives us reason to lie about working late and end up at the titi bar. Or compare our women to those on the porn movies that we watch when she's not around, or hell, maybe even when she is around. The shame is not from what we're doing, but how we're doing it.

I realize this topic may be very heavy for some of you, and to all of my underage readers, keep reading because I'd rather you hear the truth about this rather than the ignorant ramblings of a friend or in the lyrics of a song that your momma's wouldn't approve you listening to. We fall in love with strippers, we become addicted to porn and we hide these things of fear of facing the one truth that we're all afraid to admit...it's not so difficult to face others about this, but many of us have a problem with facing ourselves.

Some are making it rain at strip clubs when they're babies are home hungry and bills are unpaid. And some are falling in love with the woman on the pole, while the woman at home in bed is waiting for you to come home. But it's not the acts that I'm speaking of that we become addicted to. We become addicted to  the feelings that it gives us. And those feelings are supressed, we stick them somewhere deep down in our pockets next to the dollars that we plan to throw at the nude bodies that themselves, have mouths to feed or perhaps tuition to pay.

Don't allow desired feelings of the flesh define or validate what you mean to you. And damn sure don't allow any movie, club, site, whatever, to make you lose you and the people you love.

Enjoy your bodies and the bodies of those worthy of you when the time and purpose is right. This way, the adventures in your bedroom (with or without that special someone) can be comfortably pleasurable, not  shamefully embarrassing.

Love,
Vee

I Used to LOVE Her: EXCLUSIVE Event Coverage with COMMON

Words that come to mind when I think of Common: Sexy, Intelligent, Eloquent, Successful, Hip Hop, Black, Sexy…okay, okay maybe that “Sexy” one comes to mind a little more than the others. However, none of those words are good enough. None of them quite capture the raw talent behind the man. Ain't too much common about him. Quite the extraordinary actually.

I caught Common (formerly known as Common Sense) a few weeks ago  at Chicago’s Field Museum during his tour from city to city for AT&T’s 28 Days Speaker Series in honor of Black History Month. Common spoke with Kevin Powell, writer, public speaker and activist.

Common, product of the Chi, stands for so much in our community and I was very humbled to be in his presence. His love for Chi City and hip hop is as deep as mine. And as he shared that love, I worked hard to share that moment, with you…

Common first hit the scenes with his debut album “Can I Borrow a Dollar?” in ’92. And when we loaned him that dollar, he gave us some common sense in return. He then released his second album, Like Water for Chocolate, his first major album. Then in 2003, he and Erykah Badu made us fall back in love with hip hop in their ode to hip hop with the track “Love of My Life”, featured in the motion picture Brown Sugar. Both the song and movie are in my personal top ten. Then Common showed his Chi city ass again only a few years later when he dropped his Grammy nominated album Be. And just when he taught us to “just be”, he hit us with another album, his latest released in 2007 titled Finding Forever.

Common to me is a face of hip hop. The beats, the lyrics, the struggles, the pride. He is hip hop then, now and later on, too. Straight from the streets of Chi City, I breathe his dream when I walk down the broken boulevards and assed out avenues.

And he made it out...without selling out.

“You all know my quest as an artist, you all know my mission,” said Common. “But I must admit there are a lot of artist out there that may not be saying things that are uplifting. They may not present things that have any positive energy throughout the whole project.”

I couldn’t help but think of the many rap lyrics that I would spit to that, in reality, disrespected my royalty as a black woman. Or recite some of the lines in a hip hop song that hurts the souls and beings of the men I'm supposed to stand strongly behind. And as those thoughts checked me, Common presented a challenge.

“I challenge the listeners to not support what you don’t want to hear."

Tough challenge, however, Common is no stranger to challenges. Once he conquered the mic, he challenged himself on the big screen with films including American Gangster, Smokin’ Aces and his latest with Queen Latifah, Just Wright. 
Common’s outlook on hip hop and our love or hate for it remains positive. His heart beats for hip hop like the lil drummer boy who beats on his white bucket on the side of the 290. And his love for hip hop spreads from heart to heart, and it forever lives in mine.

I love you Common, for what you mean to hip hop and my city and what you’ve taught me about both. Chi City.

Love,
Vee

I Used to LOVE Her: EXCLUSIVE Video with COMMON (Part 1)

From Vee to You

I Used to LOVE Her: EXCLUSIVE Video with COMMON (Part 2)

From Vee to You