When I was growing up "white" in Utah I died a slow death looking for role models who looked like me. Despite not having any I could count beyond my one hand I thrived. I broke barriers, wore crowns designed for white girls and took on causes that drew the word 'nigger' as a side dish. Still I thrived, but slowly and surely I left a piece of my spirit on the sidewalk, in the classroom and on the playground. I did not become more black, I became less human, less confident, and yes in many ways wilted because of the pain of isolation along the way.
When I was in my twenties I did two things. I studied to achieve A's and I prayed to become Oprah. I recorded her show and I watched them over and over. In my early thirties I wrote to her so often I think I was put on a stalking list. This is true as legend has it.
A marvelous thing happened on my way to becoming Oprah, I became me. At some tipping point, some pivotal point in my psyche, I put down my "Dear Oprah" pen and I became what Oprah made room for...me to be me.
Rumors are aflutter that Oprah might run for President of the United States. I am 53 and she a decade older. The possibility exist that my lifetime idol might be President of these United States. In truth, I could really care less that she might run and actually win. Though if she were to officially enter the race you would hardly recognize me. Why? I would work as hard for her as I did Obama. And I lost many friends over Obama running.
I don't care about the ultimate win as much as the "win" pursuit. I care most about that young brown girl in Tennessee or Idaho or wherever watching the pursuit of it. Oprah pursuing the Presidency and what that single act might mean to her sidewalk, her classroom, her playground.
Go for it Oprah, I pinky up double dare you. I will be right there with you. I promise not to pen you my thoughts....well at least not every day.
Sister, La Detra
When I was in my twenties I did two things. I studied to achieve A's and I prayed to become Oprah. I recorded her show and I watched them over and over. In my early thirties I wrote to her so often I think I was put on a stalking list. This is true as legend has it.
A marvelous thing happened on my way to becoming Oprah, I became me. At some tipping point, some pivotal point in my psyche, I put down my "Dear Oprah" pen and I became what Oprah made room for...me to be me.
Rumors are aflutter that Oprah might run for President of the United States. I am 53 and she a decade older. The possibility exist that my lifetime idol might be President of these United States. In truth, I could really care less that she might run and actually win. Though if she were to officially enter the race you would hardly recognize me. Why? I would work as hard for her as I did Obama. And I lost many friends over Obama running.
I don't care about the ultimate win as much as the "win" pursuit. I care most about that young brown girl in Tennessee or Idaho or wherever watching the pursuit of it. Oprah pursuing the Presidency and what that single act might mean to her sidewalk, her classroom, her playground.
Go for it Oprah, I pinky up double dare you. I will be right there with you. I promise not to pen you my thoughts....well at least not every day.
Sister, La Detra
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