America needs a vacation!

I’ve always heard, believed and personally experienced the idea that traveling is educational. My recent trip was no less enlightening.

Indulge me for a few minutes.

When I first traveled to the continent of Africa in 2011 – to Johannesburg, South Africa, to be exact – I realized that less really is more; that the bush is not the sum of Africa as portrayed on TV; that the people are just as fascinating as the Big Five; and that the fruit there is sweeter than what I consume in America. 

When I traveled to Kenya, I learned that Hakuna Matata is more than a “Lion King” song but a preferred way of life, and that cash American dollars can get you out of a sticky situation at a police checkpoint.

And when I ventured to Liberia twice, I lived and breathed the truest sense of hospitality. I actually felt at home there and even found the person I would call son. (I love you, Hakim.)

This past summer, I was approached about going on a six-day cruise with my best friend and her family. It had been five years since I traveled out of the country and for many  good reasons: Covid, post-covid, the current federal administration and political and racial tensions.

If I’m honest, I was overwhelmed with angst. But I agreed to take the trip, though so many questions flooded my mind about my personal safety and my mental and physical health. It didn’t help that the cruise would be during hurricane season and there were storms brewing in the Atlantic Ocean as we were about to depart. Urrgh!

I fasted. I prayed. I put my trust in God and then put the pedal to the medal and burned rubber down to Port Canaveral to set sail on the Carnival Vista.

Shortly after boarding, it was announced that our itinerary would change due to the stormy weather. Cool with me because safety first.

Once that anxiety trigger was allayed, all my troubles left as soon as the deejay pumped up the volume for the bon voyage party on the lido deck.

From that moment on, the sense of camaraderie among everyone on board was palpable. Strangers became friends. Lounging areas became neighborhoods. Politeness and kindness were served with the same quickness as Guy’s burgers and rum punch.

People said excuse me if they accidentally bumped into you. They struck up conversations on elevators. 

My best friend’s son, who is 25, met other young people from Charlotte – different races and genders – and they became his crew during the entire trip. They ate together, partied together and did who knows what else – together. They have continued their friendship beyond the cruise.

I witnessed an older Black man trying to get his electric wheelchair into his stateroom. There was a young White man walking in front of me who stopped and asked if he could assist.

A young Black kid fist bumped me once as I was walking to the elevator – just because.

Meanwhile, a man I knew from Hamlet, NC, was traveling with his wife for an anniversary cruise on another ship and they were re-routed as well. We kept up with each other on Facebook Messenger. I haven’t spoken to them in person in years yet there we were, checking up on each other because of a similar situation. I mention that they are White only to make my point.

And the point is that the humanity and brotherly love I experienced was exactly the reassurance I needed to believe that the virulent behavior we see in the media is the minority, not the majority of Americans.

I could surmise that it’s because we were all on vacation – vacating from all that consumes us on a regular basis and choosing to live in the moment of relaxation, of serenity, of fun. Vacating from the tensions of the real world that segregate us. Vacating from ideologies that no longer serve us well and choosing instead to treat people based on who they are not what they are. Vacating from the poison of political pressures. Vacating from disinformation. Vacating from hate.

For six days, we were just Americans on the same boat – getting along just fine. We weren’t red or blue, for or against, inferior or superior. No one asked and no one cared. 

I wish we could take a lesson from my best friend’s son and extend that same brotherhood beyond the cruise - instead of abandoning ship.

That's my prayer.

That's a horrible idea! What time?

Seize the moments of 2025

Here we are again at the dawn of a new year, given another opportunity to achieve our divine assignments on earth.

As I grow in maturity and in, um, age – I will turn 55 this year - I’ve learned some valuable lessons of life. First and foremost, you can’t change people, you can only control how you respond to them. Number two, procrastination is essentially laziness. And I’m not lazy. And No. 3, carpe diem – seize the moment.

No. 1:

This has been a challenging year for me and my family as we have confronted issues that have tested our resolve as a family unit. I’ve also had to overcome some relationship issues that landed me on the figurative couch of a therapist.

Yes, for the first time in my life, I spent some quality time with a therapist for the first six months of 2024. I was hoping she would tell me what to do. Not so. Instead, she posed the right questions, that led me to dig deeper into my childhood, bringing to surface insecurities that shaped my life and choices today. Whew, child! Talk about starting with the man in the mirror.

I journaled. I cried. I took back control of my emotions. The work continues.

She did advise, however, that I date myself last summer. So, I did. I took myself to the movies. I attended street festivals solo. I was a party of one at restaurants. I went to one favorite spot where they sat me at the same table each time. This must be the designated single table; I thought to myself.

Nonetheless, I enter this year an emotionally healthier version of myself. I recognize that I have to accept people as they are and where they are in their lives – forgoing potential and promise and embracing – or rejecting – what is.

If this concept keeps me single yet happy, I can live with that. But I prefer existing in a mutually loving relationship with someone who accepts me for my corny, witty, sociable, kindhearted, optimistic, adventurous, spiritual self (shameless plug).

No 2:

This year, I also achieved something that I had been putting off for six years: obtaining my master’s degree. Earning a graduate degree was not on my radar until I started working at Livingstone College in 2017. My department lead at that time, Dr. State Alexander, advised that if I were to elevate in higher education, I needed an advanced degree.

At first, I resisted the notion. If I were a professor or faculty member, yes, I see the need. But I’m in communications. As long as I know how to write a press release, conjugate verbs and chummy up with the media, I’m good. Not so.

In July 2023, I discovered an accelerated online program at Full Sail University. I wasn’t one month into the program when I got a job offer from my alma mater, Winston-Salem State University. In the beginning, I was commuting two hours one way to work, coming home and doing my lessons, all while taking care of my elderly mother.

Then I decided to move to Winston-Salem, settling in an apartment that is only a five-minute drive to work. What I saved in gas is now going towards rent – and then some.

My new routine was going to work by day and studying and doing my lessons by night and on the weekends. For an entire year, I experienced FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). I had to say, no, to tempting invitations that dangled in front of me like a carrot.

But it all paid off. I graduated with a perfect 4.0 GPA and was valedictorian of my class. This was a redeeming moment for me. When I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Mass Communication and Spanish from WSSU, I missed being an honor graduate by a few points because of El Espanol.  I allowed my professor to talk me into double majoring because by now, as he prophesied, Spanish would be the official second language of America. This would be the perfect place to insert “Not so,” but truth to told, the United States does not have an official language, let alone an official second language, on the federal level, though English is our primary language. (Go ahead, fact check it.)

My family and close friends joined me to celebrate my graduation during a week's stay in Florida. I am proud and grateful for this accomplishment. Now, let’s just hope Dr. Alexander was right and this degree will pay off for me because repayment of those student loans starts this month. 

No 2 and 3:

Life is fleeting. Not to put a damper on my optimism, but I personally know a couple of people who received cancer diagnoses last year and were gone to heaven within three months. 

So, no matter what you aspire to do this year. No matter what your goals or resolutions are. GET STARTED! Dreams don’t work unless you do. A month from now, we can either have a month of progress or a month of excuses.

My friends and I have decided to be each other’s accountability partners. This means, we had to be vulnerable and share with each other those things that we want to accomplish and those bad habits we want to cast away. With God at the center of our lives and with conviction as our compass, we are committing to not allow age to define us. Just because we are aging gracefully doesn’t mean we have to always act our age – whatever that means.

We will seize the moments because who knows how much longer before the trumpet sounds.

Some people feel like they have to wait on the right time, the right person, the right finances, the right weather, the right right to get started. Not so. 

To remind my circle of friends of our pledge, I purchased them drink coasters with these words: “That’s a horrible idea. What time?”

How about now!