In my teens it was unpopular to be the smart girl. Boys wanted pretty and flirty. Smart to them was climbing through bedroom windows.

In my twenties smart was okay but still not the "it" thing with the guys. Guys liked catching pretty more than they liked chasing smart. Oh well all was forgiven because at least most guys left the windows alone and started using the front door. Nothing sweeter than hearing the chiming of the door bell ring.

In my thirties, guys were attracted to smart but not the "know it all" types. Smart girls were allowed to be "smart" but not too "smart". No problem, because we could be too sweet, too giving, too forgiving, too loose, too available, too "anything" but never ever too all-knowingly smart.

​In my forties, smart pays bills, opens doors, solves real problems. Smart own their houses with lots of doors, lots of windows and the most beautiful sounding chimes.

By 40, men will invite smart in leaving pretty on the porch. Trouble is by now, the smart girls have all grown up and moved on to marry very smart boys with very nice porches.

In his fifties, he has met and married two, maybe perhaps three really pretty ladies. His latest pretty can be found gazing out their window looking straight past him sitting on their porch.

​Pretty smart of her. What he was missing, not seeing was her pretty in smart all that time.

My mother passed away of a sudden heart attack at age 55 in the year 2000. This is two years older than I am now. My mother did the same few things most of her adult life. She did all of them well. She drank, she swore like crazy, she slept well especially when it rained, she kept a garden and she cooked better than any human I have ever met.

One thing my mother never did do was anything long enough, healthy enough, happy enough... to bring her peace on the inside. It was hard to watch.

I learned how to cook watching my mother cook. Though she had cook books I never once saw her actually use a recipe. She looked at the pictures I guess, then improvised. Everything was "to the taste". Her words not mine. But it was magical. I don't use recipes either, just ingredients, like Momma.

My mother loved to watch you take the first bite of her food. And because she worked nights sometimes that bite would wake you from your sleep with her holding a bite of something too close to your sleepy-eye - encrusted face. "Just take a bite then you can go back to sleep!", she would always say. Her favorite was most anything fried, like catfish.

My mother could make anything taste good even spinach. She made the best spinach ever.

Someone I imagine was much like my mother recently passed away from a heart attack at age 59. I saw something in her eyes, something like I often saw in my own mother's' eyes. That is a crossroads between okay and not so okay. Just a feeling, but I think I am right.

Later today I am going to make spinach and the first bite I will hold up to heaven in honor of them both.

They are probably busy frying catfish for the angels in heaven. Have them angels fighting over the crispy tails.

RIH Momma Nancy
RIH Auntie Fee

Y'all look after one another. And both of you taper down that cursing up there! Dang.

This blog should speak for itself. If you are African-American and grew up before 1980 it will need no preamble.

Don't start none won't be none
You better shut yo face
Move your hands, You better move those hands!
That didn't hurt, but the next one will!
Somebody did it. You have 10 seconds to start talking.
Get out of bed. I told you earlier, your behind was mine.
Are you rolling your eyes?
I am going to give you something to cry for.

Get out of her smelling like you have been outside all day.
Hush up before I really give you something to cry for.
Did you just try to stop me from hitting you?
You laughing? Something funny?

Now before I start. I wanna remind you boys that if you tell a lie, you gotta tell another to cover the first one.
It breaks my heart to have to spank you guys but....

Hold your hands out and don't you move them.
You better not pee on yourself or I will get you again.
Don't go where you ain't wanted
I see you don't believe fat meat is greasy.
Every time you move I am starting over.
Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and I will give you something to cry about.
Do as I say and not as I do.
Don't make me move from this chair
I am going to knock you into next week.

Don't go around telling our business at school.
Oh because your friends did it, you do it? So if your friends jump off a bridge, you goin to do it too?
Please don't make me pull this car over.
You gonna learn you don't eat everybody's cooking.
A hard head makes a soft behind.
You rollin your eyes?
You can give your heart to Jesus but your behind belongs to me!
I brought you in this world and I will take you out!

Go get me that thing from over yonder
Now that you explained what everybody else was doing, help me understand your part in this foolishness.

The same thing that makes you laugh is gonna make you cry.
You can think about it while you rake and bag the backyard leaves and I better not find so much as a twig left on the ground.
Don't be sputing my word girl.

You mad? Scratch your azz and get glad.
You pay a bill you get an opinion.
If I told you once then you already know!
One of y'all better start talking.
You have worked up on this #$$ whippin.
Sit your tail down, before I break it off or wear it out.
What you do in the dark will come to the light.
This is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me.
If you don't be quiet in there, the next sound will be crying.
A hard head makes a soft behind.
Wait til we get home and don't think I am going to forget.
I am going to spank you for today and tomorrow cause I know you going to do something.
Don't look at me with that tone of voice.


NOW STAY IN A CHILD'S PLACE!

If I said it once, I have said it a million times. Winning is a lonely business. What never ceases to amaze me is those who only come on the scene after your ball is in play, you are on the field, with game advantage and with points on the board. They have selective memory in regard to how you got there. Many will cheer loudly because they want something from you. Don't be mad at me. I come in truth.

I recently had to sever a relationship that was beginning to mean a lot to me. I was in a position to help someone who is much less established put a lot of points on their board. Yet they disrupted my field of play mid throw. They tried to take my game away from me and become captain of my team. They tried to go around me and carry my ball across the finish line. I wasn't even that mad, worse, I was disappointed and I was done. Game Over.

It is too bad that when we see others winning we try to interfere for self-gain. Where does that come from? And here is the kicker, I saw it coming. I saw the play being formed on the field long before it was fully executed. I was hoping beyond hope they would see the weakness in the play, but they didn't. Their play had been scripted.

In my case, I did not even call a foul or a time out. I took my ball and I went home, leaving this person frozen on the field. Never a word spoken about what had transpired. I would not allow the insult of any explanation to further spoil the result.

There is room for all of us to succeed. When we come together as a team and respect the rules of engagement we can all score. I promise. This starts with respecting all of the hard work it took to get onto that field in the first place. Things like sacrifice, sweat, tears, preparation, learning, re-tooling, and prayer. And yes it takes a healthy dose of doing what is right and caring more about the team than about one's self. Not everyone on the field is there to play dirty.

Their loss, my win. My ball.

I am called on to speak to various audiences a lot. I try not to say no. I remember years ago, my husband told me, "You speak well, now you just need something to say." Though my feelings were hurt, he was mostly right. I just needed something more to say. Something I believe in wholeheartedly. Once I turned 50, I found that something. Now I can't stop talking. I am talking about how I found my purpose filled life. This involved giving up on a few things I had held onto tightly. It also meant being willing to say no to things I should have let go of long ago.

Today in my post 50 life, I find no so liberating. It gives me much more room for the yes behind my purpose. So what one question do I get asked a lot? I get asked, how does one find their purpose. I don't think you find your purpose, your purpose finds you. At least in my case, this is exactly what happened.

My purpose was birthed out of my passions. Interestingly, it brought together all those elements of my life experience I enjoy most. My interest in helping others, teaching, giving, growing, speaking and travel. My purpose was a perfect collision of each of these, quilted together piece by piece.

I often wondered at first, whether the signs were always there and might I have gotten started living my purpose earlier. That answer is no. Once I stepped into my purpose, I had to give up things I know I would not have given up earlier. Things like sharing my whole self publicly in a transparent way, choosing to freely give to others without any tangible expectations in return, and choosing happiness over money.

Once I became steadfast in my decision to pursue my purpose something amazing transpired. What was amazing is how I stepped heart first into this new me and the joy I receive from being in this new space. I love this new me.

I want to help others realize their purpose and take steps toward realizing their purpose heart first. I know firsthand the joy of taking this very big step.

For more information contact me for consultation ladetrawhite.com

No one can be you better than you. It took me a long time to realize that. I remember growing up as the fly in the buttermilk in Salt Lake City, Utah among a sea of peers who hardly ever looked like me. I hid my intimidation. I often felt like they had access that I would never have. They would be given greater, better, and more. I saw their skin color as privilege. My mind second-guessed my gifts often.

As I matured and went out into the world my psyche began to change. Albeit slowly. I traveled the world to every continent in fact, except Antarctica. What I noticed, it is I who was getting the access and it had nothing to do with skin color. It had everything to do with opportunities afforded through hard works. I earned my way into new horizons. My ability to fit in was more about my attitude, interests, curiosity and tolerance. It was also about my gifts.

Don't get me wrong, there are times I am still excluded and yes overlooked by the majority. I realize though it is not about my skin color, more so about my gender. I used to think a Harvard MBA would be the great equalizer and sometimes it is. Sometimes it gets me into rooms with a lot of ties. Sometimes they just want to see for themselves who she is? It bothers me less and less. I can hold my own. My Momma with her 10th grade education taught me how to hold my head up and look people in the eyes. She taught me the value of holding your tongue until you can't hold it.

Now I know better the importance of being prepared to compete in the world. I know that color will always matter for now. But what really matters is leading with our gifts and staring down challenges chin up and eyes looking straight ahead.

I remember when I started my first business in 2002, I was so afraid. I was insecure about my ability to persuade others to pay for my talents. I was unsure how to charge for what I was bringing to the marketplace. It took time. And over time I was able to gain my footing by listening to others who came before me. One really bright person who I respected told me one important thing that has carried me along the way. He said, make sure they know your value, even if you discount it to get the business. Send an invoice that says, $20,000 TOTAL with a CREDIT of $7,000 NET DUE $13,000.

When I started my business NOBLE INSIGHT, I invested $10,000. I had enough for a lease deposit, a computer, and office furniture. It would take well more than a year to replace the money I had made in the corporate sector. But eventually, I did it. I not only replaced that income, but far surpassed it in just a few years. In my mind, I knew I would never look back. I would never work for someone else again. I was thirty-seven years old at the time. I have been on my own since the year 2000. I have been in the black most of those years.

In 2016, I made up my mind to reach back to other small businesses. I decided too, to invest the same amount of money in them as I invested in my own business back then. I am doing this for several reasons, but mostly because I am able to help. I enjoy helping and I know the importance of the nudge. My nudge was being fired from my last corporate job. Yep, that happening nudged me into position to work for myself. Since then I have hired a lot of young and older people. I have hired great assistants, project managers, and business partners along the way. I have watched them grow.

I have grown to a place that I can afford to reach back, give back and share the knowledge wealth. Helping small business is my oxygen.

I know the money I give away will not be the help that everyone who receives it needs to be completely successful. Along with the coaching I provide, I am praying it nudges them to carry on. That it nudges them by knowing they are not alone. That it nudges them to know that we are stronger together.

For more information on the giveaway visit ladetrawhite.com/contest. Existing small business, non-profit and business ideas welcome to participate.

I used to ask why they did not last. When you are twelve asking your now thirty-two year old mom who married at 16, you learn to ask while covering your ears. Then you start walking out of the room backwards, careful not to be harmed by the darts of "Mind your own business" or the house shoe, whichever comes hurling first. After awhile, when all the house shoes have been thrown and the mostly "mind your own business" words sound the same, you stop asking. At least that is what happened with me. And when you stop asking, you begin making up your own answers to those hollow questions. And before long, you believe what your mind congers up. All of it. Believable or not.

Going out into the world not having a blueprint leaves you to fend for yourself.

I keep my father's wedding band in my top dresser drawer. I happened upon it one day when I saw it in my mom's top dresser drawer. I asked her to whom it belonged and in a rare straight down no chaser moment, she said simply, "It's your dad's, why?" I said well if you don't want it, may I have it? She gave me a jumbled non-answer that I took for a yes. I've had it ever since.

Sometimes, I lay my wedding band on top of my dad's and just let it sit there. I stare down upon it making promises to myself. Promises that I will do everything I know to stay together. I will do everything I know to be together.

And if I should ever find myself not there, which I pray is never, I will tell the truth why and leave a blueprint rather than a house shoe or jumbled words that need quilting back together.

I owe that at least.

​Our children do not choose the family they are born into. They do not choose their parents. The least we can do is honor their curiosity in order that they might learn from our mistakes, leave rooms knowing and go out into the world growing.

I didn't exactly end the friendship. I mean I didn't make some sort of proclamation, create a break-up moment or send an astute 'read between the lines' note. I did none of these. No need to. I didn't try to resuscitate it either as I saw it slipping away. Didn't try to talk it into staying. Not this time. Not any more.

I allowed the friendship to do what it do. And it did. And when it did, I stopped trying to save it as I had tried so many times before. This time I stood by, close enough to hear the friendship if it called and near enough to feel it if it felt. But it did none of these. It pretended to on paper of course and through "likes" and texts, but not really. Not really and not real.

So I had to let it go as it had already let me go. I will miss the friend but not that kind of friendship. You see, when we are no longer able to see the friend in the friendship, we must call it what it really is, lost and not just our loss. Yet the greater loss would be my continuing to try so hard at something that had already spoken so vividly for itself.

Put the friend back in the friendship or be willing to let it do what it do. And it will.

It is completely okay to ask questions out loud. Completely acceptable to wonder out loud. There is value in not knowing.  It is okay to doubt one's circumstance. There is learning that comes from being in limbo.

When I feel doubt I look for places with spaces that may provide answers. Maybe not a complete answer that sooths everything. But places with spaces that provide direction. Usually I end of looking where I left off.
When I am looking for the answer to why things happen that cause confusion and pain and suffering, I am not trying to find someone to blame. I am looking for somewhere to begin change. I am looking for a way to become part of something lasting.
When I am feeling overwhelmed by grief, I look for the place where I last found happiness. Sometimes it comes with a scent, or photograph or memory or song or whatever. What I do not do, is look for spaces that reinforce the pain I feel inside.

I take a deep breath and I study my moment. I ask myself, is this the way you want to feel forever? When my answer comes back no, I begin the work to get better. I don't try to pretend that what I am feeling is not real or justified. I just try to will myself into a better place with better space.

I know the feeling of being one-two punched by life. It is a horrible feeling that leaves lasting bruises. Each time I am knocked down I am forever changed. And no I do not come back stronger. I come back changed. As I pick myself up each time, I am reminded that I was not promised anything beyond life and death. It is that time I spend between those inevitable two that matters most.

So that's it. I can spend time in limbo looking for someone to blame for my unfortunate circumstance or I can say a prayer of thanks to God Almighty that I still have that time between life and death to figure out a better space in a better place for me.

Well somebody's gotta say it. We are too gullible a species. It is no wonder more of us don't fly into glass windows. Ever hear the saying, if it sounds too good to be true it likely is?

​We are so starved for attention, for change, for skipping steps, we walk right into the trap being set. That hole in our heart or our head is so deep we reach out for anything different, shinier, loftier than the moment at hand. If the birds could talk, they would give us an ear full I betcha. At least we learn the first time they would scold.

Most of the truly stupid decisions I have made were during times of extreme impatience or while believing I was smarter than the other guy. I entered into situations like playing a shell game, ever-trusting the odds were in my favor. I talked myself into believing I remained one step ahead of the other guy. And when I was wrong from miscalculation, it cost me dearly, both emotionally and financially.

You would think we would learn. Learn to excercise that common sense muscle we were born with. The one that if not routinely excercised we lose the use of it. God will even send down his angel to tap us on the shoulder ... to stand in the way of the ensuing calamity. And what do we do? We swat that angel away. Mind your own business says our behavior.

And when the common sense muscle goes unused we become greater prey. We become a target of those who do not live their life praying but plotting.

Common sense comes with it radar, if only we stuck our heads above the sand long enough to hear it.

It is becoming more murky to maintain my center. It is in this center that I find my strength and drive and passion. It is where I stand in my wreck less abandon toward things I care about. Mostly a care that extends toward my fellow mankind. A caring spirit to do my part to improve the world I live in.

I have been around the world visiting nearly 40 countries in all. No matter where I found myself, the one thing I could always count on is that longing for home. That feeling of I would rather be home than here. A place familiar and beautiful and tolerant and substantial and diverse and prosperous and intentionally invitational.

Today I read something that STOPPED me in my center. It caused my heart to skip beats. It is where policy dictated actions that stir my spirit into a tailspin.

It made home feel unfamiliar. Detention centers being created at airports to keep others without due process out of our country.

What is happening? What is next? Where is my home?

Mr. President

As the dew passes over the horizon so do the whispers of the dandelion on the open prairie. The landscape will never be as it was found. You have left footprints that history cannot untell, spoken truths that caused jubilation among the ancestors.

You rang bells in the hearts of small men in huts and among Kings who sit upon thrones. You have awakened the unimaginable in ghettos of Soweto and the upper west side.

You have stood tall when confronted, majestic when insulted. You have shown the power of silence where fists were more expedient.

You have projected what tall looks like, feels like, acts like.

You have led a nation of people and a tribe of forgotten.

There will be others like you because you sprinkled an inspired pathway of believing it is possible.

Mr. President, I will look for your mighty footsteps in the valley along my way and on the mountain top on the other side. Barack Hussein Obama - My Forever President.

There were these prisoners being held in a community somewhere familiar. Many had been there all of their natural lives. They lived each day surviving, feeling lost and not yet found.

Each morning one of the captors would come to the gate that encased them. The one that separated them from freedom. He never entered the gate. He never got close enough to touch it. He merely spoke. You are prisoners. There is no escape. And he walked away.

The next day and the day after that. You are prisoners. There is no escape.

Among these prisoners was one they called Mother. Mother was old, and blind, and deaf. No one paid much attention to Mother. She was one of them and completely harmless. Mother in her condition had never once heard the words, "You are prisoners, there is no escape."

One morning just after her captor came and went, Mother did something spectacular and freeing.

Mother made her way to the gate and with no effort opened it. Just like that. She opened a gate that had only been locked in the mind's of the captives.