This summer, Six Flags was the spot my son wanted to occasionally chill, but each time I picked him up I noticed that almost all of the girls (ages 12 and up) dressed like tramps and tricks. Tight shorts, jeans so low they showed their panties, and most of them were wearing G-strings and thongs and were proud to show them off.
So what are their mothers teaching them? Is it that money is the route to happiness? Is it that a man’s purpose is to buy them expensive shoes and purses and spend excessive amounts of money on them void of love and respect? Is it that we teach them to appreciate their bodies more so than their minds so they can desire to be strippers, gold diggers, groupies or video dames? We need to answer these questions before appreciation of the material supercedes appreciation and adoration of one’s self. On the surface, it appears as if the priority of young women is to become familiar with the ins and outs of the entertainment industry and money in order to capitalize on a man’s potential more so than the task of developing their own potential.
Momma, what is going on? I am a man who was raised to look after women, especially mine. As a man I am compelled by the instilled responsibility. What’s desired more than a gold-digging, misguided woman is a partner, a helpmate and a woman who respects and loves her family. A woman that exemplifies the God-given grace that dwells in her and exudes a love for who people are, instead of what they have. Mothers should aspire to raise some of them.
--torrance stephens
13 comments:
I'm confused as to how the way one chooses to dress automatically labels them as anything, least of all a gold-digger. By the measuring stick, I could say all men with dreadlocks are smoked out, jobless criminals.
Women have for milleniums put their beauty on display, and suddenly the line is drawn between woman and trick because a strap on their panties is showing?
I suppose we'll always have old-timers who wish time would stand still, progress would stop, exactly when they wanted it to. But tight clothing is to today what corsets were to yesterday. Simply another means to make us feel more attractive. And there's nothing wrong with that. The infallible man does it, as well.
Point well taken Jessica.
I agree that every year or every decade there is a change in styles that teenagers wear. In the 50' it was short skirts, 60'and 70'tight bell bottoms and mid- drift showing, 80'where you could wear anything and no one notice, 90'that's when the hip hop culture became the style of dress, and 00'"I call it the don't care decade".
I do agree that teenagers will be teenagers and copy the culture at hand. "They may also grow out of it" as many have said in the past. But when it comes to a public display of underwear, I have to draw the line. Yes, maybe the thong has become the corset of yesterday, but I recall corset was covered up by layers and layers of clothing and not shown for the whole world to see.
Teenage girls today have to be careful of what they display, because this is a much different world then yesterday. Today, there are sexual pedators praying on teenage girls. I'm not saying they are not praying on boys, but from computers to porno videos to rap videos, girls are more vunerable to get into these things. So, we need to teach our girls that they can be sexy with their clothing on!
My fault, im writing from the perspective of a father with a 15 month old daughter
well I see how some of these youn irls dress and yes it is offensive. I do think that women do need to embrace their femininity. I think men always place the blame for their carnel thoughts on women...they would think the same thoughts no matter what a women wears...look at other cultures if you think I am kidding
it's unfortunate that many girls' mothers are teaching them just that. use what ya got to get what ya want. it's what they did, so they pass it along rather than encouraging their daughters to take a different route. of course, it doesn't help that many of their fathers are absent or may as well be.
"But tight clothing is to today what corsets were to yesterday. Simply another means to make us feel more attractive."
This is neither progressive nor an excuse for 12 year old girls to be wearing booty shorts. And I'm definitely not one to excuse the fellas for walking around with their drawers showing, shorts sagging down to their ankles. They look so ridiculous.
I have nothing to add - I think the discussion has been covered.
I am the mother of blackness I have felt the sorrows,
I am the evolution of man, I the ender of grief;
I am the torch of Harriet, soldier sojourners.
The battlefield of freedom
Bud and the blossom, O Mother Race! to thee I bring
I am the seed of justice, and the banner of blackness
The bark of the tree call roots, I sing the songs of my ancestors
God bless the Queen.
I am the priest and the poet, Afraid thee strong armored spirit I let not the tears Upon this blood of tarnish decreed, I have lived before, I shall return again, I the black wings of chamber, know the hidden secrets of the dead, there is no power that lies upon the earth.
I am the rib ascetics black man original Ancestors of Jesus the blood line serf and the king;
I cure the tears of the bending branch, I nurture the grounds of roots. I lead the army to freedom of self,
When I come near they shall sing.
Black as the bronze skin, white as the wooly white hair,
Fire in the eyes of life, savior to the brother like I.
White are my hands as the snowdrop;
my fingers as clay; Yet let thy tears bedew a wretch's grave,
To see my soul breathe, de bleeding of my wombs, their shall be no disappears, I the Solomon and Jesus lives on within the chosen, of the black wings of chambers frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.
Battle and war are my minions,
doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.
Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.
Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shall thou see me and know me--
Death, then, no longer, but life.
Then shall thou sing at my coming,
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me Aught save the foeman of Death.
Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I’ll shall guide thy footsteps and lead thee where the phenomenal Woman dwells;
I WAS born a slave in a conservative time of bureaucracy, Consciousness to the new Black Aesthetic there was a child went forth on a plantation call New York city, I m not quite sure of the exact place where I live, it is more like the slaves that lives within my skin, I confined my self of thought any body of people that is so illiterate to allow them self to become so passive; that they cannot see the hanging rope when it approaches a new day of conservative slavery, when all the obstacles are before them, unfortunate the mind has no will of its on, to bring a people in a true thought of liberations, preparing them for the jail house, and ill rate to the house of able, In this turmoil racial terrorism considered the third world,
refugees has concluded death people, the ten million African Americans who have entered this same country, under harsh conditions, skin as black as mind, who look down on the weak, and stigmatized the Wealth, as to get entangled in the net of slavery.
I have long to understand the trifoliate behavior of some, who lives behind the sores that bare no scab, to breed embolisms of treason, betrayal, hate, to live among the walking dead, lets not forget the scars of our ancestors, who have beard all the scars, and life that humbled into a shell, of agony and pain, that their life lines would be free, The holocausts that man continue to breathe;
Humans scream out to be freed, helpless in wheel chairs, blind and
bewildered, lame and mentally challenge, Elders who fight just to live;
children that live the battlegrounds off the free;
Our back yard is dirty and our people are dying.
Who will save America the land of the free. I shall walk within the blood prints of my saviors, there is know face of my ancestors who stood before the battle ground, for there is only one blue print, women of strength that carried the same torch of thy ancestors, life is death it is written in the script, I follow the blue print of my brother, what is life if you can’t give it as a warrior, My children continue to feel the whip, slavery never died, it reformed a new master, self who walks the grounds, of the curse that lives within, Cold nights my children continue to feel, as they walk the streets, the enemy who lives within the mask of the devil who continues to live, through the cold nights of the living dead, the monsters who subside and pray on the minds of the young, and those who are so far gone, with anecdotes that surrounds their every thought.
So my brother who hold the peace of paper of instructions, the knowledge which he refuse to apply, the master no longer holds the pen, and education which is declined, so who is my sister and brother who sit before the desk, as my children close their eyes to the knowledge which they represent, through the souls of child who cry treason, no leaders to plead their cause, the system who breeds the cloaks of enemies that live within the sheeted surroundings who really gives a dam.
For though' I fly the black wings of chambers,
to escape the flying demons, to enter where no man
Would go, I cry in silence to de lord.
To bare the scars of envy, spite, and scorns,
That sits upon my door, I take the burning bullet,
Only de lord knows the hierologic atonement I explore,
For who should ever understand my horology, who shall ever walk my path, understanding the burning of psalms, that lies within my skin, In this black wings chamber, lord whispered in my ear, lord say sacrifice my son, no one shall know the end, I shall teach you what a warrior should be, cry not upon the land of death, rise to the living upon my gates, trouble shall not last for long, black wings await my chambers of the lord.
This weapon, yet even chains, the brave emancipate the pain
He’d, in triumphant and the brave man stands, awaiting
The mystics powers of the soul, that man is blind to thy role, oh the treaty of my ancestral strolls, my life is to die as my brother, and rise upon the cross. The redemption black wings of chambers, in the conference hall of the de lord
Oh upon this land, has no understanding of the chambers of the lord, I shall feel no pain, as I walk through the fire of my brothers space.
My image has forsaken me, and my children have felt the whip of the slavemaster curse, 400 years the cycle has turn.
Women, Girl, Male, Boy born in abomination, who am I? the one who lives within. Who and What Is Woman.
Noumi Arts Collectives @2005
I believe that at a minimum women should use the 3-Ds
Decency, Discretion Discernment in all that they engage in. My mother taught me to respect myself. If I veered from that, then I knew it was out of order. If I made the choice to be out of order, then I used discretion. If my choices could be swayed by peer pressure (or other pressure) then I needed discernment.
Sistah--take heed--there is a lot of BS that is a set-up. Don't believe the hype that it doesn't matter because in the long run--it does.
I believe that at minimum women should use the 3-Ds
Decency, Discretion Discernment in all that they engage in. My mother taught me to respect myself. If I veered from that, then I knew it was out of order. If I made the choice to be out of order, then I used discretion. If my choices could be swayed by peer pressure (or other pressure) then I needed discernment.
I taught my daughter to be the best that she could be, and that all actions have consequences. I had to set examples that she could reference. I had to expose her to individuals and opportunities that she could use when making choices.
I do not put myself on a pedestal--not by a long shot. However, I have learned that bad choices will interfer with future opportunities.
Sistah--take heed--a lot of BS that is offered is a set-up. Don't believe the hype that it doesn't matter because in the long run--it does. A brother/sister will take what you offer (and more). Ask yourself why you want to show your panties!
Instead of getting a snippy attitude because you got called on indecency, thank a brotha for sharing the real deal with you.
Raw Dawg is a smart, educated, and sho 'nuf man raising a daughter. He ain't playing!
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