Don't Ask... Don't Get!

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Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has been the topic of discussion for much of 2010. Obama was able to end the year with at least one monkey off of his back by getting the policy repealed; making it possible for people to serve our country as they are, no matter their sexual orientation. Typically, I would have been more involved in this movement while leading heated debates laced with politics and lined with Louboutins. But in all honesty, much of the past few months has been a bit of a blur. Life as an indie artist has this new mother investing more time debating cloth vs disposable diapers opposed to my former self, who spent that energy comparing Chanel to YSL. Okay… I still do the latter but my priorities have been made over like Tina Turner. Motherhood has been an intense transition, rewarding, but super duper intense which usually has me pulled in a million different directions. One day, I was so overwhelmed trying to reconcile who I was with who I have to be and I looked around my house and yelled “WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYBODY?” 

Once I was sobered by my son Cassius' expression, who was looking at me as if he was certain I’d lost my mind and replaced his mother with the nutcase he was giving a once over, I remembered something. My friend Keith Harris’ mother Ms. Ruth, said to me a few years ago, “You have not, because you ask not!". She had witnessed me contemplate asking for a keepsake from her in laws wedding a bit too long and needed to slow my roll. When she said that to me, I froze because it was such a simple concept, yet I was making such a big deal out of asking... for a floral arrangement. Once I realized just how sophomoric I was acting, I marched over to one of the staff members and asked for a centerpiece. Needless to say, she was happy to oblige. In fact she offered me two! You would have thought I hit the jackpot and I did, have you seen the cost of Magnolia's lately? So back to my meltdown, with Cassius who was now looking at me as if he was back in the land of his familiar and I realized I still hadn’t fully absorbed that concept. I rarely asked anyone for help. Asking was still very taboo to me and was a sign of weakness. In the dynamic of a relationship, asking was on par with nagging and I would never want to be "that girl".

My epiphany was that I was a product of my environment and asking for help was like scratching a chalkboard. My grandmother, Hazel, owned a dry cleaners and a bar/lounge in upstate NY. She was amazing with money and very very savvy. Keep in mind, this was the 50’s-60's when she acquired these businesses which was a huge feat for a man, but almost unheard of for a black woman. In turn, my mother had a strong work ethic and made her own way to provide for my brother, sister and me. I never ever heard the “I don’t need a man…” mantra used loosely in my home, but seeing my matriarchs operate in the way they did where men were scarce, had its own unwilled impact. Not to imply the men in my family are lazy; in fact, most of them are in very solid marriages and are model fathers. It’s just that the women simply would not ask for the simplest of things. So while the game was on, on any given Sunday and the men were usurped in the play by play, the women were cooking. And since they were in the kitchen, they would just empty the trash; and while they were outside, they would grab the newspaper; and while they were walking back into the house, they would change the outside flood light; and on their way back in the house, they would sweep out the garage; all the while, hotlinks and cabbage with iron skillet corn bread was on the stove. Meanwhile, the men were steady asking, “When we gon’ eat?” That's just how it was. Now this has spawned a breed of young men who will watch a woman do manual labor and not feel any kind of way about it. What’s just as crazy, is that we have been conditioned to be on board with this epidemic. It’s given birth to a generation of resentment between the sexes where men will let a woman pull up to the pump and get her own gas while they are adjusting the radio dial. This surpasses chivalry but speaks of the disconnect from mom's teaching and the choices a man makes in a romantic relationship, where gender roles come into play. Trust, if a woman can't cook, clean or put out... he's ghost. And I do understand the fundamental unspoken ideals that make a relationship less sexist, but instead more functional. Listen, we all have to eat, so someone should be cooking. It's just that same person shouldn't have to clean the storm drain, too. Manual labor means “Man, you all” do that kind of work. I can do it when I don’t have you around, but when you’re there… your help is valued and appreciated. Thus... the hot meal and the hot pants you deserve! What’s the solution? Women simply have to start asking the men around to help. A virtuous man takes pride in doing those "Brawny paper towel role looking man or James from Good Times"things, but it doesn’t make him less than if he needs to be asked from time to time. This includes brothers, nephews, uncles and lovers. And when they say they will, let them do so in the way they see fit. The world won’t stop rotating on its axis because he didn't fold the towels into thirds or if the leaves aren’t piled to the left of the mailbox. I can’t show a man how to be a man, but I can provide an environment that allows him to contribute in his own way by asking, then falling back. It took me years to grasp this concept and I’m still no better at putting it into motion i.e. five days after my c-section on my roof... clearing the gutters, in the rain.

In not asking, you're not having... either. This notion stretches far beyond a household, but it's a great place to start. I've gotten quite a few unfavorable things I didn't ask for as of late, so I will be very clear where my asking thoughts go. So ladies, the next time we are in the kitchen and the men are watching the game, let’s test the technique. Bring them their plate (with a smile), ask them to take out the trash and leave it at the door. Do try this at home. Lastly, if you find a man who fits the bill, HOLLEEEEERRR!

*** R.I.P Geraldine Hoff Doyle who was the inspiration behind the iconic ad "We Can Do It" died on 12/26/10. She took a factory job in support of the war after learning some young men who volunteered to fight, had been killed in the line of duty. Beauty and brazen make for a wonderful combination!