The SistaGurl Blog

By Capt Sista Gurl, Good Morning Friends! Seeing that it's Thursday, I figured I'd post a throwback! I wrote this way back in February 2020, you know, pre-corona, when life was vastly different. However, the fact still remains, social media has bested our confidence many a day, and we can always use a post like this. The allure of social media provides our senses with the notion that fairytales come true. It can show us things like the beautiful girl with the perfect waistline, smiling her perfect smile living her life as your favorite entrepreneur, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the stars of your dreams. It shows us that the once ridiculed guy in your Chemistry class in high school now owns a sports car, has 2.5 children, a perfectly adoring wife, and let’s face it, you never expected that weirdo to look like that, it never dawned on you that he could grow a beard and afford expensive cologne!  Often times if you live outside the confines of what is deemed “Social Me

The spirit woke me up at 4:30a this morning. The morning tune that blared in my mental subconscious sang, “We’re broken down and tired, living life like a merry-go-round.” I have to admit that I chuckled at the creator’s goal with this.   I promised to write back to my SG Peeps and I knew that there would be uncertainty today. Before I went to bed, having intentionally watched nothing regarding the election, I struggled with knowing what to say. Thankfully, as the saying goes, "he’s not here when you want him, he’s right on time."  My former pastor Rev. William Green has this sermon about a biscuit. At first listen, you’re thinking where is he going with this story?? He details how a biscuit is created, a little love and attention with the ingredients, then they’re combined and rolled or kneaded, cut into sections, or dropped. Then of course placed in the oven. He mentions all this for a few reasons, namely because there is a process before rising.  The biscuit having already

By Capt SistaGurl.  It's the Sunday night before the 2020 Election. This year, was nothing short of chaotic. I sometimes laugh at my 2020 opening post. "Give less of a F&ck in 2020. " It's crazy because I think 2020 gave less of a fuck about us! Go figure. I spoke so boldly, that I got the universe's attention. That's a joke, I know I'm not that powerful. But in all seriousness, if you're reading this post right now, you've survived ALL OF IT.  If you've merely witnessed the changes in the privacy of your own home with few casualties, you're still not who you were when this year started. For better or for worse, you're different now. Isn't that what vision is about? Aren't we supposed to receive a new view? Learn new things, unearth parts of ourselves that we didn't know? If that's the symbolism of what the vision means in 2020, I think it's safe to say that we HAVE SEEN SOME THINGS.  With two months to go in thi

By Nikia Webster Listen we is not the same, you say, "Door", I say, "Dough" You say, "Floor", I say, "Flo", you say, "For sure", I say "Fasho" - Tee Grizzley  Code-switching , broadly speaking, involves adjusting one’s linguistic code, behavior, or mannerisms depending on the social or conversational context. For Black people, this involves switching from AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) , to Standard or “ proper ” English when applicable.  Code-switchers do so for a variety of reasons, but for most, it’s an act closely related to our cultures and communities . When code-switching Black people often try to optimize the comfort of others in ways that will, or so we hope, lead to the exchange of fair treatment.  Janet Van Hell, Penn State professor of Psychology and Linguistics, writes , “Code-switching can occur halfway through a sentence, between sentences, or when one is adjusting their speech to a particular cont

By Felicia Clark.  As we all know, Covid-19 put a damper on all of our spring plans, summer plans, and travel endeavors. It changes the most in the spring. I love spring. It reminds me of new beginnings.  We had a new beginning, just not the one everyone hoped for.  I don't know about you, but I tried everything I could to release my Covid anxiety. All through my timeline I saw, push-up challenges shot challenges, and wine.  Everyone was stocking up on wine. This was completely understandable, right? We can't do ANYTHING, we're losing our minds and our jobs, so let's all just get drunk; and exercise.   And somehow, there was a race for tissue. Nevermind racing for beans and rice or non-perishables. Folks were running for toilet paper. It was insane. No judgment. Well, maybe a little bit. But, hey, it happens. After the Charmin Olympics ended, there was a level of acceptance. This was around the time a lot of us picked up new hobbies, and further exercised self-care.  I