"You Don't Know My Story" Campaign!

Greetings, 

You Don't Know My Story is a campaign geared towards recognizing self prosperity through reflection and appreciation that everyone has a life story worth telling. The campaign was originally started by the non-profit organization, Black Positive Image (BPI). 

BPI focuses on reaffirming and restructuring the images and perceptions of African Americans through actively encouraging positive thinking and behavior. 

In partnership with BPI, an 8th grade after school program has the opportunity of serving as a vessel in continuing this campaign. We plan to create a booklet of submissions for the young ladies involved in the character development program and also post them to a blog site created for the campaign. 

Help us bring this campaign to life! All we ask is that you take the time to share your story so that young ladies and people around can learn, reflect, and grow. 

Submission Details:
v    Female Submissions Only
v    Stories should e mailed to: knowmystory@gmail.com
v    Length: 1-2 pages single spaced
v    Submissions can be Anonymous
v  We encourage you to invite your friends, family, and network to help keep this campaign alive.
v    Understand by submitting a story you give us permission to use it for the printed booklet. However, we will still make selections based on the quantity received.  Please specify if you would like to remove your submission from being posted on a blog. Dates:

v    Deadline : 4/12/10
v    Notified of use for Booklet: 4/23/10
v    Booklet made by :5/4/10

 Thank you in advance for helping bring this campaign alive and helping young ladies experience triumph through your lens.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Dim

She ripped down each
Image with her fingertips
Dismembering her memories
In split seconds
No longer held to the past
With band aids and scars
Her imagination allows her to travel
Light years away
Stuck Between possibility and thought.
No longer having photos as reminders to move forward
She has destroyed her motivation
Not yet realizing
It is within her.
One day I pray she awakes
from darkness-Slowly.
Willing to consider
the light she needs
Won't ever dim
Inside.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Untitled

Split to perfection
Soaked
Letting her light glow
Sultry
Infatuation with distance,
I hitch hiked
Searching
For A home between her.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

move forward

when was the last time you looked yourself in the mirror... and really saw the real you. not an image painted on by makeup, scars, or tatooes.the last time you awoke to the feeling of self satisfation. gratitude so deep for self that no one else's love would compare. when was the last time you really made peace with reality...

Untitled...

A cycle of bigotry.
Subconsciously
Stepping into quick sand.
Securing safety.
From self harm.
Craving refuge in your healing,
yet pardon from your worries.

As blind as love is,
She keeps seeing us.
Held Captive by her reign.
Seeking stubborn separations
When strength is to much
for the ill hearted.
Imagining a life before you.
When joy didn't seem so blissful.
And the wind didn't remind me of your flowing spirit.

Yet I am tied to your lies,
Just like I hang from your truths.
Salvaging each word
To be meant for only me.
The savor of your sweet essence,
Only lasted seconds on my pallet
And yet I am hungry for departure.

Wishing I never laid my eyes on your glory.
Experienced unity by definition
Not example.
Love.
You have lied to me.
Told me you were worthy.
And I believed you.
Now I just linger on each possibility
That my lens was blurred
From the start.

What happened to community?

What happened to community. I keep asking myself who is to blame for unruly students, selfish educators, and political agendas within the education system. I keep asking myself is it the level of creativity, intuition, inspiration, or motivation that makes good great. Or simply are we all starting at the same place?

What happened to community? When. Responsibility is a joint factor between accountability and self action. Where is the missing link between what and why? That we miss to ask ourselves and others.

What happened to our community? Our sense of wholeness, unified for a common purpose, pushing for self love, self worth, self exploration, pushing for rights to be ourselves. We have become lost in the ideals floating between images and reality. Drowning in the could be.

Shouldn't a school be a tight unit, comprised of people who care. Shouldn't it be that easy. That when a child misses the buss a teacher takes them home if necessary. Or stays until their ride comes. When does the responsibility meet accountability with self action?

Why are we hanging ourselves by our own nooses? What happened to our communities???

The death of us all

Is death the master of us all? Physical embellishments of intangible traits. Controlling the end of our imagination and existence.

Is death the master of us all?
If the physical is our means of existing, are we not always living a revolving door of images? Are we truly as smart as we think? Not really realizing an end,before our beginnings.

Is death the master of us all? Striking whips of memories into action. refusing to live past them. when relevance seems the prime motive. what is snatched but a glimpse. soul floating,they still living?

Does death keep us moving? Panting,breathing. Looking forward,without cause and reason. When does the drive kick in, since we know we are all leaving. Does existence entitle us instinct and reason? Is death the master of us all?

A template and spark for creation. Fueling impulse and inspiration. Motivate reckless and responsibility. Provoking thought and legacy. Is death our master in disguise? Purpelling our people to actually use life,not live and die....

Is the death of us all,our master? Are they waiting, sitting plotting our demise. For each of us to finish. Slowly wishing hope and faith would be sucked from within. And praying we really don't see past just these physical images. That freedom lies in the power to believe in it.